This Gulf of Time and Stars Read Free Page A

can’t touch her. I don’t know why. Not yet.”
    â€œThat could be of use.” Fry’s eyes narrowed. “On our side, then? Is it possible?”
    He’d thought so. Hoped so, until— “She’s on theirs,” flat and sure. “Lydis Bowman made the arrangements to formally invite the Clan into the Trade Pact.”
    The ensuing silence was more stunned than predatory.
    â€œI was there for the signing.” Hadn’t that been the greatestchallenge of his long career, to smile and seem proud? “They came. The Clan. Every single one.”
    Gayle spoke first. “You’re saying you knew them for what they were.”
    â€œThere was no doubt.” Cartnell repressed a shudder, remembering. Humans didn’t appear out of thin air, to stand voiceless and stare . . .
    . . . stare at him. They still did, when he could sleep. Nightmares shaped like people, staring . . .
    Cartnell collected himself. Why shouldn’t Clan pass a visual inspection? They lived on Human-dominant planets for a reason. He’d been overjoyed to finally obtain internal data on them, until he’d seen for himself what they could do.
    Of what use was a physiological scan on beings who never passed through shipcities or customs ports?
    Who simply
wished
themselves where they wanted to be, like something out of a story.
    Cartnell tapped a finger on the table, feeling their attention. Now, he thought. “Nine hundred and thirty-three.”
    â€œWhich is?”
    â€œThe number of Clan in Trade Pact space, including children. The sum of their species. Nine hundred and thirty-three.”
    The three exchanged incredulous looks. “Less than—” Fry stopped and swallowed, hard. “My son’s last music recital had more in the audience.”
    Gayle shook her head. “This treaty you say they signed—we would have heard.”
    He’d anticipated disbelief. “Board exec-level only, immediate staff excluded.” Sensible, there being more species in the Trade Pact—each with its Board member—than there were Clan. Pragmatic, most of those species disinterested in Human-centric problems.
    He’d known he was alone from the start.
    â€œAs it stands, few know the Clan exist, even less their—situation. The Board wants it kept that way. They think signing the treaty means the last of Clan meddling. Like that—” Cartnell snapped his fingers “—they’ve become model citizens.”
    â€œâ€˜Meddling’?” Fry echoed, eyes narrowed. “Ripping minds apart for their secrets? Rewriting memories so anyone you trust becomes your worst enemy? You can’t be—”
    Gayle silenced her colleague with a lift of her hand. “We’re here for the same reason,” she said almost gently. With a sharp look at Cartnell. “What ‘situation,’ Board Member? Why would the Clan reveal themselves?”
    The right question. “They’ve run out of time.” Cartnell clenched his hand within the stars, the fist spotted with red. “The Clan are desperate. There’s some reproductive issue. If it can’t be resolved?” The fist opened and withdrew. “They go extinct.”
    The Board’s reaction? Powerful, secret telepaths asking for help, each able to move between worlds without technology or trace? Like spilling syrup near a sippek nest.
    The greater fools among his colleagues expected gratitude: Clan to serve in their offices, perhaps, or assist in negotiations.
    Run errands. Fetch.
    Steal. Assassinate.
    Destroy the precarious balance between species who scarcely tolerated one another enough to trade, let alone sit in debate.
    This was about more than his lost love. This was chaos. Intersystem war. He saw it so clearly.
    While Cartnell had been frozen with horror, the rest of the executives had almost wet themselves, or whatever their species did, in their