Star Wars_ X-Wing 07_ Solo Command - Aaron Allston [68]
Runt nodded. “We agree. Do all kings have to suffer this?”
“Well, any king with Face Loran as his majordomo.”
“And now,” Face said, “the two kings fight one another to the death, and we space the loser.”
“Whoa, there.” Janson stood and shook confetti from his hair. “Try again.”
“We space the winner?”
“One more.”
“We buy you a drink.”
“That’s more like it.”
As the pilots drifted back to their seats, Shalla dropped gracefully in a chair beside Piggy’s. “Tell me something,” she said.
“Yes?”
“The other day, you said that you were relieved when Doctor Gast died. Why relieved?”
Piggy took a few moments to answer. Shalla wondered whether he was considering his response, or debating whether to tell her to go to hell. Finally he said, “It takes pressure off me. Pressure of decisions.”
“I don’t understand.”
“As far as I know, I am the only one of my kind. I am not fit to be among normal Gamorreans; I make them nervous and I am dismayed by their presence. Their violence, their simplicity. So I will never find a mate, a Gamorrean female, to my liking. I had sometimes wondered if Gast had created one … or if she might do so, if I compelled her. Even so, such a relationship would endure in frustration and sadness. If I understand it correctly, the changes made to me are not genetic; I could not pass them on to offspring. So I could not have children with my mental and emotional characteristics.” He raised his hand, studying the Churban brandy in the glass he held. “In that sense, I am alone … and should be alone. Doctor Gast’s continued existence led me to hopes I should not have entertained. Now that she is dead, I can be more responsible.”
“I’m sorry.” On impulse, she reached out and took his other hand. “But in one sense, you’re wrong.”
He sipped at the brandy before replying. “How so?”
“You’re not just flesh and bone. You don’t just pass along your genes. If you had children, you’d be giving them your ideas, the example of your courage and commitment, all the things that come from the way you relate to the culture you’ve chosen. And those things you can pass along to others who aren’t your children. Intellectually, emotionally, your parents and children aren’t related to you by blood at all. I know that may be small consolation.”
He downed the rest of the brandy, and after a moment his lips curled up in a near-human smile. “Well, it is some consolation.”
“Would you like to dance?”
“Would you like to have your toes smashed flat?”
“I have fast feet.”
“True. Well, the risk is all yours.” He heaved himself up, then helped her to her feet.
Other dancers were already in motion on the portion of the lounge the pilots had cleared of furniture. Face and Dia had center stage, moving to a classical theme of ancient Coruscant, and Donos and Lara were now moving to join them.
“They’re not really together,” Dia said.
Face glanced over at Donos and Lara. “How do you figure?”
“She’s tense. Keeping a little separation between them. Her expression keeps softening, she keeps smiling, as if she’s really enjoying herself. Then she tenses and withdraws. It’s a little cycle she keeps running through.”
“Oh, you’re good at this game. But you missed when she gave him the opportunity for a kiss. A deliberate invitation.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“She did.” He gave her a superior little smile.
“When?”
“A moment ago. Did you see her lower her eyes, then raise them and make that little twirling motion with her finger?”
“Yes. I assumed she was describing something. She was talking.”
“She was describing something. That’s what makes it so subtle, the way she blended the cue in, the way you’re supposed to. It’s—” Then Face stiffened, nearly losing the rhythm of the dance, and looked back at the other couple.
“It’s what?”
“Coruscant charm signing.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s something like the language of flowers. You know how on some worlds the precise flower you give someone, the number, the arrangement, all has specific meaning.”
Dia nodded. “It’s a human custom.