off breaking the news of my upcoming re-assignment until you decide. First things first. We have to face our Matara and tell her what’s happened.”
Right. Osopa had to be strong for her now, put his own miseries aside. Her loss was greater than his. He squared his shoulders and followed Tukui down the corridor.
He tried to put his reeling mind on an even keel as they neared their quarters. He chanted in his head, think of Tina, think of Tina, think of Tina. The Nobek fought for his famed control before he had to face her, to pretend his dreams hadn’t shattered around him like broken glass.
Chapter Fourteen
“Destroyed? All of it?” Tina repeated nonsense words as she stood in the middle of the sitting room.
Tukui held her hands. “Not all, but a lot. Many cities, including where your family lived.”
“Why?” They’d told her civilians would be safe. That they planned to occupy Earth, not erase it. She’d trusted them.
“The portal was rigged by Earth with a detonation command. When our attack fleet went through, it triggered massive explosions beneath a number of major cities. Your leaders didn’t want your people taken alive.” Osopa’s dark skin had a gray pallor. His expression said he might throw up at any second.
Their naked anguish told her they were horrified by what had transpired. They hadn’t realized how the attack would end. Whether Kalquor’s leaders had knowingly carried out genocide or it had been out of their control, Tukui and Osopa hadn’t anticipated what was coming.
A dim memory of a transmission she’d seen months before fought through her numbed shock. The Holy Leader had made a speech, fiery with righteous fury at the Kalquorian Empire. He’d declared war on the profane aliens who’d dared to blaspheme God’s greatest creation by mating with humans. He was certain of victory, but if Kalquor should by some chance prevail, all men should save their wives, mothers, and daughters from being forced into breeding by the mercy of killing them.
Most of that was lost in her current shock. She repeated her earlier question, trying to come to grips with the enormity of the situation. “All of Washington? But they lived in the suburbs. You’re sure they were affected?”
“My Matara, I’m sorry.” Tukui tried to say more, but his mouth moved silently. After a couple of attempts, he gave up.
After all, what could he say? What could he possibly say to fix things?
“They’re gone.” The idea began to get traction in her dazed state.
“Unless they weren’t home,” Osopa suggested, but his bleak expression said he recognized the unlikelihood of that.
Tina would never heal the rift with her father. She’d never meet her younger siblings. Reconnecting with her family, that sweet dream of reconciliation, was forever out of reach.
The first sob broke loose. Yorso reached for her. She shoved him away.
Grief announced itself with a scream. “Why did you have to come? Why couldn’t you have stayed away from us? Why?”
They stood around her helplessly, as if they weren’t big and strong enough to crush her. The three men cringed before her agony, lost and scared as little boys. Even Osopa flinched.
She yelled with an anger that boiled from her core. She shrieked in sorrow, mourning her family and what she’d been cheated of. She shouted at the injustice of a father who’d rejected her no matter how hard she’d tried. She bellowed curses at Earth’s and Kalquor’s leaders, who’d murdered the family she’d been denied.
Most of all, she screamed at the universe itself, for simply being the cold, uncaring thing that it was.
“Why? Why? Why?”
Tina had accepted the sedative the medical staff had offered to all the Mataras that night. Osopa was relieved. Devastated by her accusations, unable to do anything to help her, he’d never felt less like a Nobek in his life.
She slept, her cheeks still bearing the tracks of her tears. She’d at least consented to one of them holding her as she found comfort in unconsciousness. Yorso curled against her in the tiny bed, though he didn’t sleep himself. It was doubtful any of them would sleep that night.
Tukui sat on the lounger-like sofa, scrolling through available positions on noncombat vessels. He’d been at it for an hour already, noting potential captains to research in order to find the right fit. Osopa feared he’d soon take a break, giving him an opportunity to discuss what the Nobek’s future held.
Giving up all he’d worked for. Surrendering the future he’d planned. How could he not, when Tina