Vendel Rising Omnibus

by L A Warren

  Now she didn't think twice about breathing in the soothing liquid. The women kept one hand clutched to the small cylinder at their mouths, and one held in Master Varlen's hand. Their unease and fear paraded across their features as their gazes darted about, looking far overhead to the surface of the purple sea and across what seemed a nearly endless expanse. The am-net soup, a purple fluid which nourished the nodes of the am-net, was more than expansive. Larger than a pond, or a fair-sized lake, a sea was a more apt description.

  Elise smiled at the girls, trying to reassure them, despite her frustration that they were not what she needed. She told Gregor lower ranked WOR wouldn’t work.

  Her frustration, however, turned to delight as High Tender Marcus swam up. He towed Paula behind him, her expression a mess of barely contained panic. Elise imagined the conversation as the High Tender instructed Paula about the soup.

  Although Paula tended to keep to herself, like Elise, she shared the unenviable position of being High Tender Marcus's select WOR. He trained only five of the women, while all the other Tenders were responsible for ten or twenty. She and Paula had a unique understanding of what it meant to disobey that man.

  Paula took long ragged pulls off the breathing tube. Her wide, dilated eyes broadcasted her fear. She glanced at Elise and took a shuddering breath. When High Tender Marcus released her, he sent Paula into a spin. The poor girl flailed wildly. The High Tender shook his head, disapproval heavy in his gaze. Paula’s eyebrows shot up as her face drained of color.

  The woman holding his other hand brought a smile to Elise’s face. Chandra peeked over his shoulder and waved. When the High Tender released her, she swam to Paula and settled Paula’s thrashing.

  The final two arrivals were also well known to Elise. Aomi and Alice held hands with High Tender Anders vlor’Alturis. He trained Alice and had a reputation nearly as harsh as High Tender Marcus. Green sparkled from the man’s eyes. The color was nearly twin to Carek’s, yet where her friend’s eyes held warmth, this man’s eyes radiated a cold brittleness.

  He stopped and hovered a short distance away. High Tender Anders vlor’Alturis did not release her friends.

  “Good day, s’Lissa,” High Tender Marcus said, approaching with shallow scooping motions of his hands.

  She replied obediently, “Good day.”

  “I just had a very interesting visit from the Emperor and an odd request.” He lifted his brow and continued, “He demanded I bring you four of my Fifth Rank WOR.”

  “Yes, High Tender.”

  “Do you care to explain?”

  She bowed her head. “Have those women completed their Binding Rites?” She pointed to the women of lower rank.

  “They have. Why?”

  “I’m not sure, but it might be important.”

  Irritation flickered behind his eyes.

  “Let me explain.”

  “Yes, please.”

  “If the WOR could listen in, I can bring everyone up to speed.”

  Communication within the am-net was complicated. Sound didn't broadcast through the soup, primarily because humans couldn't vocalize without vibrations of air across vocal chords. A direct connection between the immersion suits had to be established, otherwise there was no way to speak to another. Her suit linked to Carek's and the High Tender's, but no one else.

  “No.”

  His abrupt one word response wasn't unexpected, but he was bound to do as Gregor commanded. That didn't mean she wouldn't have to jump through his hoops.

  "You convinced the Emperor, now you must convince me. They will wait.” He glanced at Carek. “Mr. Tusel, supervise the WOR while the Lady Malita explains all this to me.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Carek headed toward the WOR.

  “Please have Lord vlor’Alturis join me as well as Master Varlen.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Carek repeated.

  After a brief shuffling of bodies, Elise found herself surrounded by the three men. Carek drifted to the side to chaperone the six WOR while Elise began her explanation.

  After an hour, Lord vlor’Alturis surprised her with the first interruption. “Lord vlor’Vardhal, I see a problem.” He pointed to one of the spokes she had leading off the first node into subspace.

  The High Tender moved closer and traced the line of Lord vlor’Alturis’s finger. He rubbed his chin.

  “Yes, I see,” the High Tender murmured.

  “He’s not going to like this.” High Tender vlor’Alturis crossed his arms.

  “No, he will not.” High Tender Marcus turned to her. “S’Lissa, you asked about Binding. Why is that?”

  “I assume it's a form of linking.” She nodded to the area which had caught High Tender vlor’Alturis’s eye. “That’s the key structure to linking WOR together, or at least the keystone. I need to know how the Binding Rite might affect that piece to the linking sequence.”

  “Your thoughts?” High Tender vlor’Alturis pinched his brow. His gaze darted back and forth between the dimensional construct and Elise.

  She took in a deep drag of purple fluid and let it billow back out. “I’m not certain, but if that portion of a WOR’s mind, the subspace projection of it, is already linked, I don't believe it's possible to form another connection.”

  Both men turned to gaze darkly at each other. Their brows twitched furiously, leading her to believe they spoke on a communications channel separate from hers.

  High Tender Marcus grunted. “Well, then it’s good we brought Second Rank WOR who are bound. Answer this question first and foremost, s'Lissa. Is this clear?”

  “Yes, High Tender, but it would be better to try an initial linking circle first with the other Fifth Rank WOR. Then, I can try to pull them in.”

  “What’s a linking circle?” High Tender vlor’Alturis asked.

  “Let me show you.” Elise brought them back to the main body of the linking project.

  After another hour, she had satisfied the questions of both High Tenders.

  “This is not complete,” she added, clarifying. “I see several potential errors, and a few holes where I’m just at a loss as to what to do next, but I feel there’s a solution which will allow you to link together the abilities of individual WOR.”

  High Tender Marcus nodded. “This is far better than what we came up with. Good work, s'Lissa."

  Her heart about stopped. High Tender Marcus had never praised any of her work before. "Go ahead and keep working on this. Sometimes the best way to discover what you don’t know is to try what you do. Find where it falls apart, and patch the holes.”

  “Yes, High Tender Marcus.”

  He drifted off and spoke to Carek.

  Sometime over the past two hours, Alice and Chandra had removed their breathing tubes. Paula had too, but from the pinched corners of her eyes and her pale complexion, her terror remained. Aomi still had hers in place. She swam peacefully, taking in the purple soup with open fascination. With a shrug, Aomi pulled the tube from her mouth, hesitated for a second, and then breathed in deeply. Her body arched for a second, but then she relaxed. A large smile filled her face.

  Carek adjusted the communications channels and Elise could finally hear the other girls. She had yet to figure out how the immersion suit linking worked.

  “Hi!”

  Aomi turned and waved. “This is so cool.”

  Alice’s blue eyes burned brightly. Her gaze took in the entire linking project. “Amazing.”

  Paula looked like she was going to be sick.

  Chandra towed Paula forward. “This is where you’ve been spending all your time? I’m so jealous. This is awesome.”

  Her friends seemed much more impressed by the purple soup than Elise had been. It was awe inspiring, but Elise had been brought here and shown things her friends had not. Carek brought her first, showing her his people, and revealed their beauty and humanity through his eyes. He'd then shown the destruction wrought by the S'Lorek, an enemy which had already taken two worlds and several colony fleets
. Gregor had brought her to the soup as well. His was the vision of an emperor and of his solemn oath to do whatever it took to safeguard humanity. Carek showed her the lives of individuals, whereas Gregor’s view was that of a leader set an impossible task.

  Two men. Two completely different views.

  She was here to accomplish the impossible—find a way to link the power of the WOR and turn them into a weapon strong enough to defeat the aggression of the S'Lorek.

  This was a rare outing for her friends. Perhaps their very first time free of confinement. They hadn't been allowed the luxury offered Elise, trips off the Confinement Deck, and now the Fifth Rank Deck. Nor had any of them forayed off on their own, a mini-escape like Elise. She'd escaped the Confinement Deck, although escape might be too grand of a term. Her excursions brought her to the flight deck, allowed her to make friends with some of the Vendel, and had set her head in a tailspin over what her priorities should be, and where to focus her efforts.

  To save Earth, she would have to save the Vendel. She would have to save those responsible for killing billions, and she still hadn't reconciled what that meant.

  All of her efforts, whether with the linking project or her bid for escape from the Vendel were nothing more than a race against time; a battle she was losing.

  High Tender Marcus brought the Second Rank WOR over and made introductions. He explained to the WOR what was expected, then turned over the details to Elise.

  The men hung in the background and watched as she explained. Only Carek came forward to join the group. He hovered on the opposite side of the diagrams and interjected only when they had disagreements over the set of force vectors and lines.

  Aomi traced out the lines with her fingers and hummed quietly to herself.

  Chandra shook her head and raised a hand for Elise to stop. “Start from here again.” She pointed to the first sub-space divergence. “Something’s not right.”

  Paula remained silent, but Elise watched Paula scan the diagrams. She kept coming back to the area which had caught the High Tenders' attention. Her mouth gaped, as if she saw something, but then the breathing tube fell out of her mouth. She thrashed and clutched at her throat. Her head snapped back, all her attention focused on the surface far above and the air which she didn't need.

  Carek dove through the purple soup and clamped his legs around Paula before she could bolt to the surface. She kicked and hit him, struggling to find the surface and air above. As he had done for Elise, he held Paula in an iron grip. Just before Paula seemed to pass out, she gasped and the purple liquid streamed down her throat. She gagged and coughed. A minute later, her eyes widened when she realized she was not dead.

  Elise laughed.

  Paula glared at her.

  “Sorry.”

  "You can release me." Paula pushed against Carek’s chest. “I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure?” Carek gave her a long appraising look.

  “Yes."

  “If you surface too fast, it can be dangerous.”

  “Then, thank you . . . I suppose.” She glanced down. “You can release me. I’m fine now.”

  “Everything ok?” High Tender Marcus approached as Carek disentangled himself from Paula.

  Paula bowed her head. “Yes, High Tender Marcus, I am fine.”

  “Good.” He jerked his chin toward the soup. “Now stop fooling around and get started. Your time here is limited.”

  In the next hour, they made little progress. The High Tenders escorted them back to the Fifth Deck without a word, but when they entered the Fifth Deck Lounge, High Tender Marcus pulled her to the side while her friends headed to the dining facility.

  “S’Lissa,” High Tender Marcus said.

  “Yes?”

  “You may choose to eat first or accept your Tender Training. You may prefer an empty stomach.”

  She had forgotten about Gregor's punishment. He'd caught her speaking in a familiar manner with Carek when he'd collected her for lunch. As her stomach lurched, she accepted her fate.

  “Yes, High Tender. If it pleases you, I would choose now.”

  “Very well.” He gestured down the hall leading to her suite of rooms. “I believe the bar and shackles remain?”

  Elise cast her gaze to the floor and walked to her rooms. By the time the door swished open, she was protectively encased in darkness. Her sisters had arrived.

  Shriek was in control now.

  Whimper waited in the wings.

  Oddly, Malice crawled out to investigate.

  While the High Tender inflicted horror after horror, Elise separated her consciousness from what was happening to her body.

  The next hour passed in a blur as WOR-skill diagrams bombarded her in the dark.

  The answer was right there, waiting to be discovered. Her screams of frustration blended in nicely with Shriek’s howls.

  Elise woke the next day sore and tired, drained from another round of Tender Training. At least it had only been for an hour and only for one day.

  The High Tender had spent every last second of the Tender Training session working over her body with the braklav. Shriek howled and screamed until their throat burned. Raw and sore, the pain still lingered.

  Quite out of character, Malice sat through the entire session. She remained silent and observed while the High Tender set their skin on fire, amongst other—more horrible—things.

  Elise was just thankful she no longer had to endure those sessions.

  When it was done, Shriek crawled into the darkness and Elise returned to the light.

  Malice snickered and disappeared.

  Whimper cried.

  What she hadn't expected upon awakening was to see Gregor sitting in the corner of her room. He had pulled in a chair and sat, arms crossed, watching her sleep. What bothered her wasn't that he watched her sleep, but that she couldn't feel his presence.

  His lips crooked up into his characteristic smirk when he realized she was awake. "Good morning, opés."

  Elise smoothed down her hair and sat in bed. The shoulder of her sleeping gown slipped down her arm and she tugged it back into place. "Good morning, Gregor," she said hesitantly.

  "How do you feel?" Gregor leaned back and gazed at her expectantly.

  How the do you think I feel after a session with the High Tender?

  "Sore, but otherwise fine. Thank you for asking." She chose her words carefully and then made sure to add his given name. It was required. "Gregor."

  He gave a dismissive wave. Oh yes, he understood.

  She regarded him in silence. Her mind furiously worked to figure out what he wanted. What he was doing in her sleeping quarters, and how long had he been watching.

  Elise pushed back the covers. "Is there something you wanted, Gregor?"

  "No," he said, remaining mysterious. "High Tender Marcus notified me of the progress you made with the other WOR."

  He shifted to her bed, leaning over her to press his lips lightly against her temple. That contact awakened the bond between them.

  "Yes, Gregor."

  She placed trembling hands on his chest, hating how he drew yet repulsed her simultaneously. Desire bloomed in her mind and she fantasized about drowning under an onslaught of his kisses. Then her revulsion kicked in. Her stomach clenched and she was left lightheaded and off-balanced by the competing emotions.

  "Thank you for trusting my opinion. It meant a lot that you spoke to High Tender Marcus."

  "I didn't do it for you, opés. You and Carek . . ." He slurred the name. "The two of you have been making steady, although slow, progress. I need results, opés. Spending so much time with that man hasn't been such a good idea. You made a mistake with him."

  "I forgot myself."

  The imperial tattoo danced on his brow. The swirling lines moved under his skin with a life of their own.

  Vendel men had three names. A given name used only by a select few: their mothers, wives, and lovers. A family name used by everyone else. And a last name. She should h
ave used Carek's last name, but had slipped and used his family name where Gregor had overheard. That mistake had been paid with the agony of Tender Training.

  "Remember who you belong to, opés."

  "Gregor, I'm sorry. I allowed myself to get too familiar with Mr. Tusel. It won't happen again."

  "No. It won't."

  Elise leaned against Gregor and closed her eyes.

  "You feel comfortable with Mr. Tusel, don't you?"

  There was no point in lying. He would drag the truth out of her one way or another. "When I'm with you, Gregor, I’m forever on edge. I never know what's coming next. Will it be a soft caress? An encouraging nod? Or something worse? I don't know if it's the stick or the carrot with you. We're constantly at odds."

  "That is your choice, Elise. How many times must I tell you that you chose your path?"

  That might be true, but the path he wanted her to choose was one of complete capitulation. She would never be able to give him that. "You know that's not true," she said.

  "And you're so certain it's not?" He spun her around, forcing her to look at him. "Fighting me and my goals will always put us at odds. You can be happy here. I wish you would embrace this new life. Work with me, instead of against me."

  "Well, that's just the thing, Gregor. You don't make that easy."

  His brows shot up and the tattoo danced.

  "Let me explain," she began. "With Mr. Tusel, I could focus on work. He left me alone to think, never demanded, never punished. I felt safe around him because I knew he would never hurt me."

  Gregor winced.

  She continued, rushing to finish what she wanted to say before he made her stop. “I let my guard down with Mr. Tusel because he reminded me of Professor McCabe. All I had to do was focus on the problem and find a solution. I didn't have to fear what would happen if I didn't. I forgot myself and I am sorry.”

  "You don’t feel safe around me, do you?" Gregor looked up and closed his eyes.

  “Never, and why should I? Look what you've done to me."

  "I only did what was necessary."

  "To you, perhaps, but to me you've been nothing but brutal. I'm tense around you. Scared about what will happen next. I'm wary of your praise, confused with how this bond between us makes me feel, and so much more. I let down my guard with Mr. Tusel because he's everything you're not. If you ask, I won't work with him anymore."