The Lotus Eaters Read Free Page A

though the woman lay abed. Hand tucked between pillow and cheek, Lourdes stared at the strobe-lit French doors which led to the covered balcony connecting her husband's office and library with their bedroom.
    I'd wish he'd come to bed , the woman thought, feeling frustration well mixed with anger and despair, but, then, what would be the point? All he'd do is lie as far to his side of the bed as possible, and then turn away. And if he actually did sleep? Then the screaming would begin.
    He thinks I can't guess at Hajar. Why do men think—how can they think—that there are any secrets from wives? I hear the name of the city; I hear him mutter his plea for forgiveness. I see the tears on his cheeks.
    But he never talks about it, when he talks at all. Does he think I wouldn't understand? It was war . My people were in danger. All people were endangered. Worst of all, my children were targets. Does he think I would prefer any number of strangers over my own son, Hamilcar?
    Silly man. Come to me and, for a while, at least, I will make you forget. Come to me and give me another son.
    * * *
    In his own room, on the same floor, Hamilcar Carrera, eight years of age, stirred. His eyes opened and focused on the ceiling, onto which a home planetarium, the best model made on Terra Nova, painted stars. The planetarium was a gift of the boy's father. Instantly, sensing that their charge was stirring, the turbaned Pashtun who slept on the floor to either side of the boy, guarding him as if he were a god, were on their feet. They had weapons in hand as their eyes searched for the threat.
    "It's nothing, Karim, nothing, Mardanzai," the boy assured his followers, as he sat up. The Pashtun did not relax for an instant. "The thunder awakened me," Hamilcar explained further. Not that the guards needed explanations, oh, no. If it was their lord's will to awaken and walk, then it was their merest duty to follow and protect.
    "Where is my father?" Hamilcar asked.
    "I saw him on the balcony, Lord," Karim answered.
    "I will go to him, then," the boy said, sitting up and placing his feet to the throw run beside his bed. "He shouldn't be left alone too long."
    "I sent two men to watch over him after I saw he was awake," Karim said. "Alena, the witch, insists we watch over those you love, Lord, as we watch over you." The boy nodded his thanks. He'd long since given up trying to break the guards of their form of address.
    He was about to leave when a series of cautionary coughs from the Pashtun reminded him. Nodding again, the boy turned and walked to a corner of his room, taking in hand his rifle, a hand-made gift of the Balboa Arms Corporation, over in Arraijan, in honor of the boy's eighth birthday. The rifle was a full caliber F-26, but specially lightened and shortened and with a muzzle brake to reduce recoil. Likewise were the pistol grip and foregrip carved to fit an eight year old's hand. Under the black paint the Pashtun had laid on to reduce shine, the thing was ornately inscribed.
    Hamilcar checked the rifle to ensure it was loaded, then padded out the door and down the corridor to his father's office from which a glass-paned doorway led to the balcony. The two guards, joined immediately by two others who had stood alert at the boy's door, followed.

Ciudad Balboa , Republic of Balboa, Terra Nova
    Caridad Cruz followed her own husband from the bedroom to the living room. She found him there, seated in his chair, admiring his sole badge of rank, his centurion's baton.
    "And they say we women are vain," Cara said to Ricardo, smiling and shaking her head.
    Cruz looked up, his heart suddenly warming at the sight of his short, brown and still very pretty wife. "Men are just as vain, no doubt about it, queridisima esposa ," he admitted, lowering his baton to his lap and smiling at her. "We're just as vain, only in different ways."
    The centurion was as brown as his wife, and, at about five-seven not all that much taller. She found him handsome and