The Triad Read online

  Lesley was silent for a moment before asking, “Is that why you wanted me to go with you, rather than Mo? Because I’m an Interior officer?”

  “No!” Jayne’s mortification deepened when she saw Lesley’s tight jaw. Had she hurt her? Argamon, why did she always say the worst possible thing? “No, that’s not why at all.” I love you and feel safe with you! But the words wouldn’t come out. What if Lesley was horrified? Jayne wanted to tell her, but she’d wait until they landed near her apartment, so they wouldn’t have to endure an awkward aviacraft ride. “I asked you because I trust you. I trust both of you, but I go with Mo to 72 and see her other times...and we don’t see each other much.” Wondering how Lesley would respond, Jayne held her breath.

  “And I guess it helps that I’m not on an irregular schedule, or at least I won’t be after the Military Academy.”

  “That helps, but it’s not the reason I asked you.” Her frustration that Lesley hadn’t replied to her last point shifted into disgust with herself. If she wasn’t such a coward, she wouldn’t have to hope that Lesley, of all people, would somehow give away her feelings. “I asked you because I wanted it to be you. But taking private art lessons, being in Joanna’s studio...I can’t help but think of the Incident and what I know about my papa’s involvement—or what I think I know.”

  “If anyone were to accuse you, my presence wouldn’t lead to an automatic dismissal of the accusation. I am biased, after all.”

  “According to Joanna, everyone else brings their Chosens. Why—” Jayne groaned. “I was about to ask why we wouldn’t be treated the same as them.”

  “Actually, we would be, in this case. Their Chosens are biased too. The fact that someone’s Chosen was present wouldn’t stop me from investigating a tip.” Lesley paused. “Having the Chosen or someone else there means that people’s suspicions are less likely to be raised, so nobody feels compelled to alert Interior in the first place. If someone does report a suspected violation, a third party presence wouldn’t be enough to protect the accused, but the burden of proof would be on us.”

  “I think your reputation would be a great help in our case. I doubt anyone would believe you’d cover up a violation, especially since it’s me. I’m sure everyone thinks you’re keeping an eye on me.”

  “I am,” Lesley said. “But not because I’m worried that you’re weak in the Way,” she added quietly.

  Jayne’s heart leaped. Because she cared? Of course she cared; they were Chosens. But did she only care out of a sense of obligation, or did she care? If Jayne wasn’t so afraid to ask, and to share her own feelings, she wouldn’t have to wonder. As soon as they landed in the holding area, she’d force herself to say the words aloud.

  But by the time the aviacraft touched down, her courage had abandoned her. What was she thinking? Lesley had enough to deal with already. The last thing she needed was a lovesick Chosen pouring her heart out to her. No, it would be selfish to tell her, to burden Lesley with yet another problem while she was still struggling to accept the relationship between her two Chosens. Yes, that would be the epitome of selfish. Lesley would probably ask what else Jayne wanted from her; hadn’t she already taken enough? If Jayne truly loved her, the best thing she could do right now was not tell her.

  After hastily unbuckling her seatbelt, she mumbled, “Good night,” slid the aviacraft door open, and hopped out. But she cursed herself as the aviacraft lifted off. She should have asked Lesley if she wanted a tziva, or at least thanked her again for spending her entire evening babysitting. Then Jayne remembered her sketchbook and wanted to scream. It was on one of the backseats; she hadn’t been brave enough to take it into the studio with her. She’d wanted to meet Joanna first, be reassured that it wasn’t a joke and her work wouldn’t be ripped apart.

  In case Lesley remembered it and turned around, Jayne pulled out her comm unit, intending to quickly write a dispatch. She beeped her instead.

  “Are you okay?” Lesley said as soon as she answered.

  “I’m fine. Sorry, I left my sketchbook on the craft. Maybe Mo can bring it with her tomorrow.”

  “I’ll let her know.” Lesley paused. “You sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah. I just didn’t want you to waste your time bringing it back.” And now she felt stupid. Why would Lesley turn around? “Sorry to bother you. Good night.”

  “Wait!”

  Jayne stopped herself from hitting the disconnect button just in time.

  “Can I look at it?” Lesley asked.

  “What?”

  “Your sketchbook.”

  Jayne swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Great, thanks. Good night.”

  “Bye.” Jayne stared at her comm unit. Her rapport with Joanna had fed the hungry artist within, thrilling and satisfying her. Lesley’s desire to look at her drawings gratified her on a completely different level. She wanted to leap into the air, shout at the top of her lungs, and do cartwheels.

  *****

  Lesley closed Jayne’s sketchbook with a sigh and set it on the night table. She should lie down and turn out the light, but she doubted she’d sleep.

  The weight against her right arm lifted. Mo straightened and yawned. “Why the big sigh? You didn’t like them?”

  Jayne’s drawings had evoked not dislike, but a surprising emotion: anger. “I’m glad Joanna Reed has come into the picture, but Jayne should have gone to art school long ago. Her work will never hang in galleries. She’ll never be in the art books.”

  “She can thank her parents for that.”

  “It’s not supposed to be that way!” When she felt Mo’s hand on her arm, Lesley took a couple of deep breaths. “Sorry. But it’s not. Children aren’t supposed to pay for the crimes of their parents. The Adamses were executed. That should have been the end of it.”

  “Come on, Les, both her parents committed Chosen Violations.” Clearly expecting to be blasted, Mo held up her hands. “I agree that she shouldn’t have to pay for her parents’ crimes. I just think it’s naïve to expect that it wouldn’t touch her at all.”

  “Of course people would be a little wary of her, but barring her from art school? All the harassment? She was almost killed outside her apartment!”

  Mo lifted a skeptical brow. “And before you got to know her, you believed she was an upstanding Rymellan.”

  Lesley patted her chest with both hands. “I didn’t know she existed until a few days before I met her.”

  Mo rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, you’re right,” Lesley admitted. “Yes, I wouldn’t have wanted to be her friend. Yes, I would have wondered what people would think if they saw me talking to her. But I wouldn’t have harassed her, or stopped her from doing what she wanted to do with her life.” She narrowed her eyes at Mo. “I suppose you would have been her best friend.”

  “Hey, I’m not the one getting all indignant about it! I don’t like it. In fact, I hate the way she’s been treated. But I can’t change what happened.” Mo’s mouth tightened. “I guess going to see Reed with her was a bigger deal than I thought.”

  It was a huge deal. Lesley hadn’t appreciated that until she’d sat quietly on a stool and listened to Jayne and Joanna, heard both the praise and the criticism, noticed the way Jayne’s voice had shaken—with outrage, shock, and fear—when she’d first responded to Joanna’s less positive comments. She’d seen Jayne’s confidence grow through the course of the conversation, along with her determination to learn and her willingness to listen and accept Joanna’s suggestions as gentle guidance meant to help, not hurt. At times Lesley had felt like an interloper, eavesdropping on the most personal and intimate of conversations, seeing Jayne at her most vulnerable—and at her strongest.

  Sharing tonight with Jayne had alleviated some of the hurt over Mo and Jayne’s relationship. Lesley didn’t feel as left out. She’d have her special moments, too. And Mo was here, right next to her. Lesley’s world hadn’t come to an end. She’d hurt; she’d cry; she’d have her days when she�
��d rail against what the Chosen Council had done to her and wish that Jayne had never come into their lives. But she would survive this, and so would her relationship with Mo, and so would the triad. She’d told herself that over and over. Tonight she believed it. “I am glad that she trusted me enough to take me with her. I don’t mean to imply that she doesn’t trust you. She does.” Lesley shrugged. “I think she wants me to feel included.” It had worked.

  “Well, she chose you to go. I have to respect that,” Mo said grudgingly.

  “I seem to recall someone wise saying that we’re not competing against each other, or something like that.”

  “Whoever said that is an idiot.” Mo collapsed back onto her pillow with a snort. “You already know I’m not going to be half as mature as you about everything, so think about that when I’m spouting nuggets of wisdom, okay? I don’t want your expectations to be too high.”

  Lesley’s smile hid her concern. Tonight she’d also learned, or perhaps confirmed, that her feelings for Jayne had grown beyond friendship. On the way home, she’d thought about whether to tell her. She wouldn’t keep it to herself forever, but did they need to further complicate the situation right now? No. At the same time, shouldn’t Jayne know before they Joined? Then again, if Lesley told Jayne, she’d have to tell Mo, right before their Joining Ceremony—not that there would ever be a good time. Lesley quietly sighed. She had to make a decision, and quickly. Her world hadn’t come to an end, but it had certainly changed.

  *****

  From the single chair remaining in the living room, Jayne gazed at the empty spot where the sofa had sat. She’d spent the afternoon watching with mixed feelings as her personal movers, as Mo called them, transferred the rest of her furniture from her apartment to a cargo craft. Usually Rymellans engaged a pilot and moving crew along with the craft, but the Middleton brothers had volunteered their muscle, so Jayne wouldn’t have to endure sneers and dirty looks. Ronald had joined the group, and they’d emptied the rooms in no time, leaving behind the chair so Jayne would have somewhere to sit while she waited for Lesley—Mo was piloting the cargo craft. She’d drop several of Jayne’s items at Carol’s, a couple at Karen’s, and the rest at a recycling depot—except for a few boxes containing Jayne’s books and clothes. Mo knew not to drop those off, or she’d be in trouble! The two bags at Jayne’s feet contained her work.

  Lesley was flying over right after her class and should be here soon. Then Jayne would leave this apartment for the last time. She’d miss the solitude, at least initially. The coming week was packed with social and family engagements, leaving her little time to herself, or many opportunities to talk to Lesley alone. So today was it. Jayne wouldn’t lose her nerve, as she’d done last week. If she didn’t tell Lesley about her feelings today, she might not have the chance before their Joining Ceremony. The last thing she wanted was for Lesley to feel like a third wheel at her own Joining! Revealing her feelings right before they were going to spend a lot of time in each other’s company wasn’t ideal, but she’d left herself no choice, unless she wanted to feel horrible during their ceremony.

  And how long could she hide her feelings? She’d grinned all day over Lesley’s dispatch about her sketches—she was smiling now! Privileged to view your drawings. Humbled to have such a talented Chosen. Argamon! But, as usual, a whisper of apprehension marred her pleasure. Mo. Regardless of whether Lesley reciprocated Jayne’s feelings, Mo would feel threatened, and so Jayne had quickly decided against talking to Mo first. She had to tell Lesley, and let her decide when and how to break it to Mo. Even if Lesley felt the same way...well, she didn’t. Or maybe she did. No, she didn’t. But even if she did, they might decide to keep it to themselves until after the Joining Ceremony, so Mo wouldn’t have to deal with it during one of the most social weeks of her life—and during the Ceremony.

  On the other hand, hiding her feelings for Lesley from Mo would be just as bad as hiding them from Lesley, wouldn’t it? How would Mo feel when she found out that her two Chosens had shared a secret while they’d stood in the Joining Chamber? Maybe Jayne should just keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to hurt Mo and see her pain. She’d desperately want to comfort her and feel hypocritical when doing so.

  No, she had to tell Lesley. Here she was, elated over what Lesley had written about her sketches. Now it was her turn to praise. How many times had Lesley encouraged her and told her that her name didn’t matter? How often had Jayne appreciated Lesley for her thoughtfulness, her steadfast commitment to the spirit of the Way, and her determination to do what was best for the triad, no matter what the personal cost? Jayne had silently admired her many times, but she’d never told her, maybe because she knew that, the moment she opened her mouth, she’d gush and betray her feelings.

  Too bad. She’d taken so much; it was time to give back. Confessing her love to Lesley was the right thing to do; she only doubted her timing. Will Lesley be grateful that I told her before the Joining Ceremony, or will she wish I’d waited?

  A rap at the door interrupted Jayne’s musing. Suddenly nervous, she rose. She was about to find out.

  JOINED

  Lesley squared her shoulders and waited patiently outside Jayne’s apartment door. When it swung open, she forced a smile. “They all gone?”

  Jayne nodded and beckoned her inside. “They left about twenty minutes ago,” she said, her voice echoing around the empty apartment.

  The living room contained only a single chair with a couple of bags at its feet. Lesley glanced at the spot where the comm station had sat on a desk, and was surprised to see that it wasn’t there. Had Communications worried that nobody would want to use a station touched by an Adams? Would they sterilize the apartment, too?

  “They came for it this morning,” Jayne said calmly.

  Certain that the same thoughts running through her mind had also run through Jayne’s, Lesley grunted. After their notification meetings, she’d only seen an Adams whenever she looked at Jayne, but Jayne’s family history was no longer the first thing that sprang to mind. Now Lesley saw an artist; a reader; a thoughtful, considerate woman; a Rymellan strong in the Way. A woman Mo loved, who loved Mo in return. A Chosen. A promise of better days to come.

  Before Lesley had found out that Mo was her Chosen, she’d always expected to have mixed feelings as her Joining Day approached. She’d been right about her emotions, but wrong about why she’d experience them. She wasn’t pining for the woman she loved and wondering if she’d ever be capable of loving the woman the Chosen Council had selected for her. She wasn’t worried that she’d have to play-act for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t flinch at every mention of the Middletons, wouldn’t lie awake at night yearning for Mo. Mo was her Chosen; they would spend their lives together.

  She wouldn’t miss Mo; she’d miss the exclusivity of their relationship. She wouldn’t worry about not loving Jayne; she’d worry about how loving Jayne would affect her relationship with Mo. On the other hand, she would Join in honesty, and would truly honour her Chosens.

  As for today, she’d forced a smile because she could appreciate that moving Jayne to the estate was the first step toward her becoming a full-fledged member of the Thompson family. If Lesley wasn’t hurting over Mo and Jayne’s relationship and still trying to decide whether she should tell Jayne about her own feelings, her smile would have been genuine. That applied to the entire upcoming week. She didn’t want to look back on this important time in her life with regret, so she’d put on a smile for all the gatherings by borrowing on the happiness she hoped for in the future. Part of her believed—no, knew!—that this was a positive step in her life. Before their notifications, she’d worried about Mo’s conviction that they were Chosens, had seen it as a reckless fantasy that would only lead to despair. Now she understood it, and believed that her hope for the future stood on firmer ground than Mo’s ever had.

  “Are they coming back for the chair today?” she asked.

  Jayne nodded. “Mo said something ab
out Neil and Barbara wanting it.”

  “I’m sure we could have fit a couple of pieces of furniture into our house,” Lesley said, aware that Jayne had let go of everything except her books, clothes, and work.

  “It’s all old. And I guess I want to move forward. Most of the furniture came from my aunt and uncle.”

  Lesley nodded. If she were in Jayne’s shoes, she wouldn’t want reminders of an estranged family around her, either. She lifted one of the bags and slung it over her shoulder. She expected Jayne to pick up the other bag, but Jayne stood silently staring at her. Perhaps she wanted to linger a minute; she was leaving her home of many years for the last time. “Do you want some time alone? I can wait for you in the craft,” Lesley said.

  Jayne’s eyes grew distant, then she heaved her shoulders and reached for the other bag. “No, let’s go.”

  “We have to stop at the Trading Centre,” Lesley said as she stepped into the corridor. She waited while Jayne shut the door, and noticed that Jayne didn’t stop for one last look over her shoulder. “I have to pick up an order for Mama.”

  “Okay,” Jayne mumbled.

  Lesley glanced at her. Jayne appeared pensive, but she gave Lesley a small smile when their eyes met. Perhaps she was fretting over the upcoming events—the fussing, the Joining Ceremony! The constant socializing could wear her down. Lesley made a mental note to keep an eye on her.

  *****

  Jayne wanted to bang her forehead against the panel in front of her. Why couldn’t she open her mouth and tell Lesley how she felt? What was the worst that could happen? Oh, just that Lesley would be horrified or angry, wish that Jayne had remained silent until after the Joining Ceremony, and refuse to speak to her. No, Lesley would be too polite to shun her during all the gatherings, but Jayne would know that every word out of Lesley’s mouth, every introduction with Lesley at her side, was fuelled by obligation. Jayne didn’t want that, but the alternative—keeping her mouth shut to the point that she was starting to feel dishonest—would mar her Joining Day. She had to speak up—and would, if her brain would let her.