“From my experience treating many thousands of Khorrans, signals were obvious and not difficult for me to recognize. But there is additional, more compelling evidence as well.”
“What evidence?”
“A dramatic increase in the frequency of sexual encounters is a clear indicator, but also, her sudden and profound desire to protect you. The latter is a direct contradiction to her conduct toward you while we were still her prisoners inside Bera Nima, but it is almost certain that the effect of Jodrall’s Condition has amplified her need to shield you from danger to an extreme degree. We have all seen the immediate turn of her behavior toward you since our escape; the intolerance of anything or anyone she perceives as a threat to your safety is now prominent and not merely her suspicious and combative nature.”
“Maybe she’s just relieved to be free of that place.”
Banen shook his head and said, “There is more, Darrien. The most compelling indication was blood test results from a routine physical examination I administered to her days ago; the data merely confirmed what I already knew.”
“What did you find?”
“Onallin’s body is utterly saturated with Tepseraline.”
Norris struggled with all he had heard.
“I don’t understand what this means.”
“It means the combination of sexual desire and her emotional attachment to you has become powerful enough that a Tepseraline release was inevitable. The effect is powerful and immediate, but also very simple; as it is for all Khorrans, Onallin was presented with a decision—the Life Choice.”
“What’s the decision she’s supposed to make?”
“In the most brief and simple terms, the process has compelled her to reflect and decide if she wants you for her mate. But you must understand, Darrien, once made, the Choice is absolute and it is permanent.”
Norris leaned against the stone wall. His thoughts swirled, yet he felt a sudden and powerful surge of emotion that seemed to lift him as Banen continued.
“It is now clear Onallin has made her Life Choice; she cannot reverse the process now. The remaining question is whether you want her for your mate as well.”
“She’s waiting on me?”
“Yes,” Banen nodded. “If you do not wish to continue with her, Onallin will make the emotional adjustment and the Tepseraline will stop flowing. I cannot predict the extent of her disappointment, but physiologically, there will be an end of it.”
“I have no intention of leaving her. I didn’t realize this was happening, but I could never turn away from Onallin now.”
“She will be greatly relieved to hear that, Darrien, but you must understand; if you intend to stay with her, it will require your reply—a declaration and agreement to join with her permanently. Qural told me the equivalent term in your culture is a ‘matrimonial engagement’, but you are obligated to speak and acknowledge your own part in the Choice.”
Norris looked at the beach far below, considering his words before he answered.
“Why didn’t she say something to me before now? How was I supposed to know?”
“I believe she was simply uncertain about your own position in this question. One day, after our mission is complete, a Hyperthread will return you to Earth space and she knows it. Qural suspects—and I agree—that Onallin may have avoided this discussion merely to shield you from an impossible dilemma of balancing your growing relationship with her against the natural desire to go home.”
Norris looked away.
“I don’t know what our future holds, presuming we even live through this mission for Qural, but there’s no way I could go and leave Onallin behind. I don’t have this stuff running around inside my blood, but if the process is asking me to choose, I guess I already have.”
Banen smiled.
“Is it so strange, Darrien? Have you never known others who met and joined, but may not have come from equivalent origins? I do not know precisely the norms in human culture, but it has been my experience that few of us, if any, are given the luxury of choosing the one we love above all others. It was so for me and for Theriani as well. Perhaps this is not so unlikely after all.”
Norris smiled and looked toward the house where he knew Rantara stood in conversation with Tindas.
“Three months ago, I would’ve killed her with no regret. Now, my life has changed in ways I can’t describe. It’s a strange feeling, but when I think about our time in Bera Nima, it’s hard to remember her the way she was and the things she did…I can’t explain it.”
“We are sometimes given the unexpected and we do our best to adjust,” Banen replied. “As Hesset wisely told you in your first days with us on the tiers, you must rise up and meet what will be, not dwell on what was. But remember, Onallin once regarded you as only an object for interrogation inside that room; now, you are the one who compelled the Tepseraline release. Can you imagine how this event must seem to her?”
Norris nodded and turned to Banen.
“What’s my next move? You said there’s something I have to do?”
“A formal joining ceremony in accordance with their custom and law will have to wait; it is impossible because you are both separated from your family and home worlds. Khorrans do not place immediate emphasis on ritual, so long as you indicate your acceptance of her choice and your declaration for Onallin as your own. The process can be very brief, and there are suitable, prescribed words, but you must answer soon.”
“Just tell me what to do.”
ADMIRAL OZEL DEGREM watched in silence as the shuttle’s pilot pivoted his machine through the darkness, settling neatly in a cloud of snow and ice onto the planet’s surface. From above, pallid moonlight struggled through the overcast where an eerie, frozen haze hung ghostlike and motionless across the surface. Degrem ignored the nagging sense of uneasiness; he and the Commodore had agreed on a distant, uninhabited world for their meeting, comfortable they would not be discovered or disturbed. Moving quickly, Lieutenant Gandras stepped into the command station as the shuttle’s engines fell silent at last.
“Are you certain this is the correct time, Admiral?” he said, averting his eyes to avoid seeming insubordinate.
“He’ll be here,” Degrem replied blandly from a view port where he inspected the wintry desolation, but Gandras made no secret of his suspicions.
“If they lied, we won’t stand a chance, sir; this shuttle has no weapons capabilities.”
“I’m aware of that, Lieutenant, but I’ve crossed paths with him before—he may be a ruthless commander in battle, but it’s not in his nature to break an honest agreement.”
“If you say so, sir.”
Degrem’s annoyance was growing.
“The truce is weak as it is and I agree with his caution; let’s give it a chance before we cut and run, Lieutenant.”
Gandras nodded grimly, but his eyes remained fixed on the threat receiver’s display just the same. He didn’t have long to wait and a monitor above the command console finally blinked out the signature of a small shuttle inbound from the southern pole, speeding through a pass between two halves of a towering, ice-covered mountain range. They watched the machine close on the landing site, tracing a gentle arc as it descended through the thick clouds.
“The code confirmation is there, Admiral; a standard Anashi alert signal.”
“Open the outer hatch to the starboard air lock, Lieutenant.”
At last, the sleek craft slowed, easing onto the surface only twenty meters distant. The severe, efficient form of enemy landers always reminded Degrem of a ceremonial dagger and he smiled with admiration in spite of himself. As the icy fog became still again, two thin figures emerged in full environment suits and made their way carefully across the hard-packed snow. Gandras watched the beams of their helmet lamps waggle left and right in the glittering, frozen mist, waiting until the air lock’s camera showed them safely inside before thumbing the control to seal the hatch and equalize its pressure. A moment later, they removed their helmets and walk
ed slowly to where Degrem and Gandras stood.
“This way, sir,” the Lieutenant said, motioning them toward Degrem.
“The Commodore and I are acquainted, Lieutenant. Welcome aboard, Barso; it’s been some time.”
“It is good to see you are still alive and relatively unharmed,” Taraxis said with a slight grin. “This is Vils, my aide.”
Degrem tilted his head toward the Lieutenant.
“Gandras is my adjutant.”
The Admiral gestured toward the galley where his pilot had prepared cups of steaming, root tea and they settled as Taraxis came quickly to the point.
“We both know what would happen if our respective commands got wind of this, Ozel, so I will dispense with tedious cautions. Have you been briefed on Embree’s plan?”
Degrem nodded.
“Your Ambassador is somewhat of a legend in our diplomatic quarters, it would seem, but you know as well as I do how much she’s asking of us when so little is known.”
Taraxis nodded but he knew, as Degrem did, the condition cut both ways.
“I have enough doubts of my own, but she has obviously gained an ally within your ranks or the truce would not have happened in the first place. So who is it, Ozel? What Khorran official has she joined who is so powerful the Prime Assembly agreed to a sudden, unexplained cease-fire in the middle of a war?”
Degrem motioned first for Vils and Gandras to withdraw, leaving the Admiral and Commodore to speak alone. When the compartment hatch slid closed with a thud, Degrem turned again to Taraxis.
“Embree’s ally is a former school teacher called Ommit Tindas.”
“What do you know of him?”
“Not much. He was an adviser to the Science and Technology Minister in the last days of the old Premier’s administration, but his word still carries weight within the highest levels of my government.”
Taraxis pulled his fingernails across a persistent itch on the side of his face as he considered his next words. Some at Anashi Fleet Command had spoken loudly of Degrem’s reputation as an uncompromising zealot, but Taraxis wasn’t so easily swayed. He had long suspected the stories about his counterpart were grossly overstated, but it was more likely they were fabrications made by propagandists among the Council who profited from peddling culture hatred against the Khorra Nu. On the few occasions when they had met, Taraxis found the Admiral to be something else; Degrem was certainly a formidable military opponent, but he was hardly a mindless racist. Taraxis sipped his tea thoughtfully for a moment before he continued.
“Which brings us to the reason we are both here, Ozel; this mission Qural and your man Tindas have designed cannot succeed without bipartisan support, and not just at the political level.”
Degrem nodded his agreement.
“Exactly, so they’ve tasked us with building a joint Khorran and Anashi tactical assault team manned by your naval commandos and ours. Not an easy trick, Barso; remember, only days ago, one half of this proposed team could have been shooting at the other in a frontline engagement.”
“Yes,” Taraxis replied, “and those same soldiers will also have to accept the security imperatives to not ask questions and keep quiet, even as we are obliging them to risk their lives together in the process. Your Assembly—and my Council—may have agreed to a temporary truce, but it cannot hold forever, particularly when they have no more idea what this is about than we do.”
Degrem waited a moment, eyeing Taraxis closely.
“Have you any real understanding of what they hope to find? I met Ambassador Embree at a conference long ago, but she was…tactfully elusive.”
“I do not know what they are looking for, let alone why, and it is difficult for me to commit resources without understanding the mission’s objectives. With the inclusion of both our best and most capable commando units, it is obvious they expect trouble. This has never been done before and I am uncertain we will be able to make it happen now.”
“We have to, Barso, but I don’t like flying blind on this any more than you. What has them so spooked they would dream of such a thing in a time of war?”
Taraxis sat back, shaking his head.
“I do not know. All I was told is this; a collaborative effort is needed to face and neutralize an enemy from outside Anashi and Khorran space—a threat so grave, the war has become irrelevant. They want us to somehow act in unison against an unnamed adversary they cannot even discuss!”
Degrem smiled.
“Can’t discuss, or won’t?”
“You take my point,” Taraxis replied, “but one thing is plain and obvious; they are terrified, Ozel—your people and mine—otherwise we would never have been asked to do something so unnatural. Beyond that, I am as much in the dark on this as you.”
Degrem shook his head in frustration.
“And to make matters worse, these shrouded, backroom powers expect us to keep what few details we do know from our own command structure. I am not in the habit of willfully deceiving my superiors, Barso.
“Nor am I, but it is equally clear your school teacher and Embree are operating with a significant degree of authority; a fact I was reminded of, even as we departed for this meeting.”
Degrem had been warned not to complicate matters, but the intrigues weighed heavily.
“A failure of this mysterious plan and we’re both finished, Barso. If your government is anything like mine, they’ll want to blame somebody and we’re going to become the obvious choice.”
Taraxis returned a sad smile and said, “Yes, my leaders are also fond of seeking out scapegoats. Regardless of borders, the self-serving treachery of politicians is all too common, it would seem. However, you are correct; we both have an assignment and it is time to work it through.”
“You have something for me?” Degrem asked.
“I received an update only hours ago; our officers and crew are on-site and waiting for yours to arrive. Together, they will man this strange ship no one is willing to talk about. I understand you’ve already dispatched a similar compliment?”
“We have, and they are on the way to Fells Moll as we speak, but I wanted to wait until you and I had a chance to discuss this before sending the final authorization code. It will take some time to work out the administrative details in such a way their unit commanders won’t take any undue notice, but I can smooth that on my end.”
Taraxis sat forward and spoke in a hushed tone.
“My people will accept the command structure as it was outlined in your communiqué because they are disciplined, elite soldiers and they follow orders. Also, they know Renn by reputation; they respect his experience and authority. However, there is another—an outsider—who will accompany them. Embree was adamant on this, Ozel, and she reacted very badly when I questioned it. She wouldn’t say, but perhaps your school teacher knows this mysterious person and what he has to do with the mission?”
Degrem shook his head and looked at the table before him.
“We heard rumors about a traveler, but I put it down to speculation. Tindas refused to elaborate, but the classified message traffic we intercepted mentioned our laboratory on Voralem, and a classified project to study him. That fact tells me there may be more to this than fanciful gossip.”
“An alien?”
“It appears so, and one from far beyond the Sector, if the whispers are to be believed.”
“There are others, too,” Taraxis continued. “I was not given any names except for one called Onallin Rantara—a former army platoon leader who seems to have been suddenly reactivated?”
“I know the family, but not this individual. Rantara gained notoriety for heroism during her tour with Twelve Brigade, but she’s been separated from our army for years. They haven’t told us why she’s being brought back to active duty for this mission and I was ordered not to ask.
Degrem leaned close to Taraxis as he continued at a near whisper.
“One of my staff officers knew her, and he recalled she worked for the warden insid
e Bera Nima for a time.”
Taraxis scowled and recoiled at just the words; there was no need of an explanation.
“The crazy one with Jodrall’s?” he asked? “If it is, her reputation certainly precedes her.”
“That’s her.”
“We’ve heard stories about this soldier, but I never knew her name; I’m glad I don’t have to deal with her.”
“The mysteries are piling up, Barso,” Degrem said at last.
“Then we are left with little else but an obvious duty to proceed,” replied Taraxis. “I believe your people already have the ally-or-enemy identification codes to ensure their ship’s safe passage, plus access to this staging area inside Revallan territory?”
“Yes,” Degrem answered; “the codes came in from Fleet Command this morning, security labeled for my eyes only. Apparently, they’ve selected a drift facility just inside the Waterfall Nebula, although we were not told why.”
“Yes,” Taraxis continued, “but we now hear the station wasn’t built by the Revallans?”
“Apparently not,” Degrem said, “which makes me wonder why it’s there at all, and worse still, if the Revallans didn’t build it, then who did?”
Taraxis placed the cup carefully on the table and stood.
“We are not overly patient with secrets and mysteries, are we?”
“No,” Degrem smiled sadly, “that is not a strength either of us command, Barso.”
The Admiral called for Gandras and Vils.
“I can’t imagine what has happened that is so threatening we are now asked to pretend the war between our people is somehow an afterthought. They expect us to send our troops headlong into an unknown future nobody can describe.”
“It is madness,” Taraxis answered, “but as you said, we are soldiers and we carry out our orders.”
Taraxis held out his palms.
“Be well, Ozel; I will see you again.”
“Fly safely, Barso.”
ON THE SIXTY-FIFTH day of freedom from Kalarive, they waited in the great room as attendants and servers hurried with last minute preparations, moving platters of food and drink dispensers into position outside on three long tables beneath a gleaming white canopy. Norris watched Qural calling out instructions like an orchestra conductor, effortless and precise so that nothing was missed. She looked splendid in a sheer, flowing gown and it occurred to him he’d never seen her in formal attire. A pale blue headband and delicate veil—symbols of her family’s house—shone brightly with gold threads woven amid tiny gemstones glittering in the sunlight from above.
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