“I will be fine,” Gellen said. “I will—” She gagged then spat a thin trickle of bile from her mouth. She panted for air but stood up anyway. She turned to Yajain, face pale and illuminated by candlelight. “Don’t worry about me. Forward.”
The two of them followed Boskem’s footsteps to the end of the narrow chamber. There, another door opened and light spilled in. They passed into a brightly lit circular chamber where Redoca Helle DiKandar stood with Kodun DiCalibri at one side and the old Lian chamberlain at the other. DiKandar wore her white robe, making her appear almost formless in the light.
“Now,” she said. “Let us speak of what you saw.”
Yajain bowed her head.
“My Lady, Finder Boskem slew the tyrant aboard Commander Chakal’s banner ship. When it died, Commander Chakal surrendered.”
Helle DiKandar nodded and raised her bare shriveled arm, trailing cords from the control four ports along its sides. A hologram filled the center of the chamber, showing images of one of Ija’s banner ships firing on Castenlock.
“The explorer was damaged heavily before the attack ceased. And this fourth ship escaped.” She indicated the gray and blue banner ship. “There must be a tyrant on board it as well. But first, Commander Chakal, tell me how the creature infiltrated your ship.”
Gellen bowed her head and breathed in deep.
“Redoca DiKandar, forgive me. I do not know how it boarded or where it came from. I had just been assigned to my ship, Harri’s Shield. It was waiting on the bridge when I boarded. It was…under the floor. I didn’t know what had happened at first. I just remember feeling at peace, as if I need only listen to understand. Then it spoke to me. It gave me orders.”
DiKandar nodded.
“It spoke our language?”
“Yes, in a voice familiar to me. The voice of someone I lost.”
Yajain raised her head and looked at Gellen. Gellen’s eyes were wide. Yajain turned to the Redoca, but before she could speak Boskem stepped forward.
“Are tyrants capable of this?”
“They may be. Our ancestors last hunted them millennia ago. And we have changed greatly since then.”
Yajain’s breath caught.
“Divergent lines. Who knows what they could do now?”
“Indeed.” DiKandar waved her withered arm at the hologram and it faded. “Someone knew they were here, however.”
“Mosam.” Yajain breathed.
“The Doctor of Harvest.” Boskem gritted his teeth. “He is a criminal and in Dilinian custody now.”
“Be that as it may.” DiKandar turned to Boskem. “He may be the best hope to protect both our peoples from the tyrants. The human race has not known an existential threat in all the ages of recorded history.”
“The human race is not one,” Boskem said. “But any more decisions exceed my position.”
“You are a toady.” Kodun DiCalibri stepped forward in full armor except for his face mask. “Why are you even here?”
“I am here to act as liaison to the fleet. But I think the real reason is that I killed the beast on that ship.” Boskem folded his arms and met Kodun’s glare with his own.
Kodun’s hand drifted toward the hilt of the long sword at his hip.
“If you are a warrior, be prepared—”
“Finder, Lord DiCalibri, stop this nonsense!” Yajain took a deep breath and turned to DiKandar. “Forgive me, my Lady.”
DiKandar smiled.
“Kodun. Be at ease. Finder Boskem, congratulations.”
“I am merely a servant.” Boskem bowed his head. “Thanks, Dilinia.”
Yajain frowned. Kodun’s hand left his weapon. He folded his arms, expressionless. DiKandar’s smile remained.
“That will be all, Doctor, Commander. Finder, send my message to your superiors. Tell them I would speak to Mosam Coe and discuss his release.”
“Very well, Redoca.” Boskem raised his head stiffly. “Thank you.” He turned and marched from the room.
Gellen followed him.
Yajain hesitated, then bowed once more to DiKandar.
“Thank you, Redoca.”
DiKandar smiled.
“And you.”
Mosam, how can I forgive you even if they set you free?
Yajain stepped into Dara’s hospital room aboard Castenlock. Dara lay sleeping in soft lamplight from a stand attached to one wall beside the bed. Yajain crept into the room as quietly as she could. She sat in the chair by the bedside.
Dara looked pale. Someone had swept her hair back from her forehead and her arms stretched straight at her sides, an intravenous tube connected to one. The hum of climate control fans only barely reached into the room from above. Dara’s breath went in and out, soft but audible in the near silence.
The door creaked open. A shadow eclipsed the brief light from the hall. Yajain met Agan Pansar’s glittering eyes.
His right hand, the one Mosam had shot just hours ago, was swathed in bandages with a drip tank attached to numb the pain and bound to his side. Rather than his usual black coat, Pansar wore only his uniform heatsuit, right arm stripped to the shoulder. He towered in the entryway and stared at Yajain.
“You,” he said. “You bitch.”
Yajain folded her arms.
“Start this some other time. I’m here for my friend.”
“She doesn’t matter,” Pansar said. “A civilian who never should have been mixed up in this mess.”
“Right on the second part.” Yajain gritted her teeth. “But couldn’t be more wrong on the first.”
Pansar glowered.
“You may not be a traitor, Aksari, but that doesn’t mean I have to like you.”
“People have hated me for less.”
Yajain remembered Nira from years ago scream and raising her metal bar.
Yajain took a deep breath and stilled her shaking. She turned to Dara.
“Right now, I don’t care what you think of me.”
Pansar stalked further into the room. His undamaged hand formed a fist.
“Don’t mistake me, doctor. I am angry. But that can wait. If I lose my hand, I will ensure Mosam Coe loses at least that much in return.”
He turned and marched from the room. His receding steps clanked in the passage outside.
He took the memory of the girl’s beating Yajain with him. The threat of violence only appeared greater now. And the alien threat compounded that. Soon, Boskem would report to Pansar. Soon the whole Dilinian Empire and its allies would know about the tyrants.
The number of people who believed the information would be far smaller. For now, Mosam was under guard by the military police. No one knew for sure how many other crew might be disguised collaborators, not even him. Yajain sighed and put her head in her hands. Trickles of tears ran hot down Yajain’s cheeks.
Dara’s eyes fluttered open.
“Don’t cry, Yajain.” She smiled slightly. “They gave me some good stuff for the pain.”
Yajain sat back in surprise. She stared at Dara.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Since Agent stomps-his-feet came in. How long was I out?”
“A little less than a light-dark change.”
“What’s the time?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know.”
“You really ought to wear a chronometer when on ships.” Dara’s gentle smile broadened.
“Mine’s in my quarters. I’d just lose it with all this craziness.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
Yajain hunched forward.
“A lots been happening since that woman broke Mosam out.”
“They got away?”
“She did. He’s back in the brig. Under guard.”
“Can’t be easy for you.”
“I was the one who recaptured him.”
Dara whistled.
“That probably doesn’t help. Look, Yajain.” She raised her head awkwardly, turne
d toward Yajain and settled on the pillow. “He told her not to kill me. He told her.”
“You think she listened? Or did she just miss?”
“I don’t know.” Dara took a deep breath. “But don’t get angry with him on my account.”
Lin’s legs had fused like a bird’s tail from the knees down, and Mosam told them she still had options.
Yajain circled her heart with a finger.
“I won’t.”
Yajain rode a mover alone to the brig aboard Castenlock. She dismounted and thanked the driver. She approached the guard post entrance at the front. Two military police officers manned the desk at the checkpoint. One carried a laser rifle slid over his uniformed shoulder. Yajain approached them.
“Hello, officers,” she said, stopping before the desk. A burn mark slashed across the center of the once polished fiber surface.
The eyes of the officer with the laser rifle flicked to his seated partner.
“Hello doctor,” he said. “We have been instructed that no one is to see the prisoner. Captain Gattri and Agent Pansar both signed the order.”
“So it’s doubly official?”
“Something like that,” said the officer with the rifle.
The other officer engaged himself with the terminal in front of him, hidden from Yajain’s view. She put a hand on the desktop. “Please, I don’t think they’ll mind if I do it.”
“What won’t I mind?” asked Firio. He stepped out of the brig hallway behind the desk. He turned his scarred face toward her. “No. Don’t even think about it, Yajain.”
She stepped back from the desk, arms folded.
“Sir, I need to talk to him.”
“You’ll have to wait. Right now a formal interrogation has his schedule full.”
Yajain glared at Firio.
“Who is interrogating him?”
“Not your business, Yajain. You’re lucky you aren’t in a cell again, yourself.”
The officers at the gate exchanged deadpan glances. Yajain ignored them.
“He saved us and you know it.”
“He’s a criminal, Yajain.”
Yajain fingers tightened around her elbows. She readied an argument, but Lin’s burnt legs returned in her memory, along with Mosam telling them she had options. Yajain sighed.
“Fine. But I will be back.”
Firio nodded and then turned his back on her.
Cards flashed across the table in Solnakite’s Watchroom. Yajain stood in the doorway and watched silently. Banedd, Ogidar, and Harish took the cards as Sonetta dealt them. Rating Avencia sat back from one side of the table, evidently absorbed in her reading pad and not involved with the game.
Sonetta finished dealing and spoke without looking at Yajain.
“What are you waiting for? I’ll deal you in.”
Yajain smiled in relief as she took a seat. Sonetta did not return the expression, but sent Yajain her cards along the table, still without looking. Is she afraid of me? Does she think I’m a traitor?
They played fast. Cards darted to the center and then flickered back to the corners. Sonetta played quietly, speaking even less than Ogidar. The bandojen pilot, Harish kept glancing at Avencia and her reading pad before playing his cards.
Banedd’s eyes moved between Sonetta and Yajain at the end of one hand. He wore a hawk’s perpetual grin, perhaps manic with nerves. He had been in a shootout less than ten hours ago. But now he played with abandon. And he was winning. He sat back at the end of one hand, his grin wide but brittle looking and far from contagious.
“Is anyone else detecting a little tension around this table?”
Yajain’s eyes narrowed. You think I’m tense, Banedd?
Sonetta shuffled the deck expertly. She set it on the table and Ogidar cut it. Then she looked up at Banedd.
“What’re you talking about?”
The skinny young cabler leaned forward, elbows resting on the table.
“I don’t know, but—”
“Quiet, Loattun,” Ogidar said.
“Come on, Ogi, don’t tell me you’re missing this!” Banedd turned to Sonetta. “You’re worried about Yajain betraying us, right?” he said.
Harish gave an exasperated sigh. “You think its time for her to air her dirty laundry, do ya?”
“It’s better than playing with cold cards,” he said.
Sonetta’s dark eyes glared at Banedd.
“Is this any of your business?”
“If there’s any more fighting one or both of you might be saving my life,” he said.
Yajain turned to Sonetta. “Trust me, I haven’t done anything to betray anyone in this fleet.”
She lowered her head.
“What about Doctor Merrant? She got shot because of you.”
“Dara’s my friend. I—” Yajain clenched her fist beneath the table. “—I never meant for this to happen.”
“But people keep getting hurt, wherever you are.”
“You think I intend any of it?” Yajain pushed her chair back and stood. “I guess you didn’t have far to go to be afraid of me again! I’m just like you, Sonetta. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Seething, Yajain looked down at Sonetta’s reddening face.
“Don’t compare me to you!” she said, standing up so her chair hit the wall behind her. “I’m not—I don’t love some traitor!”
Yajain’s fingers dug into her palms. Blood rushed to her face.
“Don’t accuse me. I don’t feel—”
“You don’t feel what?” Sonetta said. “Don’t tell me you don’t!”
Yajain tore her glare away from Sonetta and turned to the watchroom door. The others were silent. Yajain took a deep breath and marched for the doorway. Striking back only causes further pain.
She made her way down the hall to her tiny cabin. There she stripped down to her heatsuit. Finally, that too fell about her feet. She pressed a palm against the wall. I won’t do it. I won’t fight back.
But what do I really feel? Mosam. I need to talk to Mosam. She sank onto the padded hammock. Her head nearly hit the wall as she lay down to sleep.
She woke cold with sweat, and neck aching. Crawling down from the hammock, Yajain got a fresh set of clothes, pulled on a new undersuit, and headed next door for a shower.
As hot water set the stall steaming, the memories of the past few days returned to her groggy mind. Sonetta. Pansar. Mosam. One fist hit the side of the stall and rattled it. Yajain withdrew her wet, aching hand and lowered her face.
What can I do? She needed to talk to Mosam. He had too much he could tell her to miss the chance. Even Firio wouldn’t let her through, and his sternness might be breakable.
She finished showering and dressed. Her mind remained jumbled enough that she barely noticed that they were moving. The systems of Solnakite remained inactive. They were still docked. Castenlock was moving.
Yajain stepped out into the hall, fully dressed. She activated her arc lifts and kicked through the air to the next level up. From there she exited the ship by the passenger doors. She’d boarded through them when she and Dara had first come aboard. They didn’t get used as much when the ship wasn’t fully docked in something the size of an explorer or larger.
The docking hangar buzzed with arc movers, mechanics, and other crews up early like Yajain or on break. She walked to the corridor where the hangar joined the rest of Castenlock. Yajain’s stomach growled as she took an arc mover heading toward the bridge.
About halfway there, she dismounted the mover and crossed to the small dome of a restaurant that took her ration card. She found a table and drank cold water and ordered warm food. Finally, her head started to clear, and the pain in her neck began to subside. She ate a wrap of byga meat and mixed vegetables. When she looked up from the food, Gellen Chakal stood beside her table.
The little woman’s approach had been so silent, Yajain hadn’t noticed her. She smiled with at much energy she could muster.<
br />
“Commander, have a seat.”
Gellen pulled out the chair across from Yajain and sat.
“I’m afraid it isn’t commander. Not anymore.” She sighed and looked even smaller.
Yajain leaned against the padded booth.
“Tyrants can control anyone. That’s what I heard.”
“Perhaps that’s true. You saved me again yesterday, doctor. But I don’t know what I should do now that Ija does not trust me.”
“You called off the fighting as soon as you could. What else could she ask for?”
Gellen looked down at her hands folded on the table.
“Self-control.”
“As opposed to mind control?” Yajain shook her head. “You did what you could.”
“She is not wrong, Doctor.”
“Maybe.” Yajain looked across the table at Gellen. The former commander’s eyes remained downcast. “But it doesn’t seem fair.”
“Ija isn’t heartless, doctor. Except in the physical sense.” Gellen sniffed, fighting tears. “She showed mercy.”
“How so?” Yajain asked.
“She convinced Captain Gattri to keep me on as a liaison between her forces and Dilinia.”
Yajain raised her eyebrows.
“So you weren’t just being zealous.”
Gellen wiped her eyes.
“These tears are of relief, Doctor.”
“I guess we’ll be working together, then.”
“Perhaps we will. But I’m afraid I must go.”
“Where to?”
“Captain Gattri has requested my presence at the interrogation.”
Yajain leaned forward, forearms landing on the table. “Mosam Coe?”
“How did you know?”
“Who else is there?” Yajain grimaced. “I just wish I could be there.”
“Come with me then.”
“You just got this position. Do you want to jeopardize it so soon?”
“Doctor Aksari, you’ve saved my life twice. I can start repaying you now.” Gellen motioned for Yajain to follow her. “Don’t argue further.”
Yajain slid out from the booth. She smiled at Gellen.
“If you insist.”
They left the restaurant and took a mover aft toward the brig.
Flame Wind Page 3