Just as he was about to give up, one more memory surfaced. His abilities then had been rogue, uncontrollable most of the time, with disastrous results. The image of a wrecked laboratory began to form in his mind’s eye, containers exploding spontaneously, sending shards of glass everywhere as equipment fell off tables or was hurled into the air.
“Naacha! Stop him you must!” he’d heard Annuur’s translator say. “Control his powers he cannot yet!”
He’d felt the sharp sting of another trank dart, and remembered how afraid he’d been. Involuntarily, his hand went up to his torc, holding it away from his neck as he remembered how it had vibrated then. There had been a second trank dart, then the room had finally begun to blur before everything went dark.
“What’s wrong?” he heard Banner ask sharply.
“Nothing,” he said, returning to the present with a jolt. “Just a memory.”
“I thought those were done.”
He looked at his friend, seeing the worried expression on the other’s face. “They are. This was something else.”
“You’ve been distant ever since we met Kezule the first time, Kusac,” said Banner quietly. “Before then, I shared your room and bed, helped you relive the memories so you could heal. Now I don’t know you. You tell me nothing that you don’t tell the rest of our crew. You’ve got your own agenda and I need to know what it is.”
“I tell you what you need to know.” He couldn’t afford to let Banner get close again.
“It’s not enough!”
“Dzaou’s complaining again,” he said caustically, trying to shake off the mood of unreality that now seemed to possess him most of the time.
“No, it’s me this time. Every evening one of Kezule’s lackeys comes for you to take you to see Shaidan for two hours and when you return, you shut yourself in your room for another hour. You’ll tell me nothing about what goes on during that time. You’re losing touch with our people, Kusac. You know I’m on this mission to see you don’t become unstable and act in a way that endangers our species, yet you purposely isolate yourself from me and the others while apparently turning to Kezule. I want to know what’s going on now!”
“And you’re forgetting this isn’t a mission sanctioned by the Brotherhood,” said Kusac, watching the trainees. “I intended to come here on my own. You broke into my ship and were waiting for me when I boarded her.”
“Dammit, Kusac!” Banner’s voice was low and intense. “What the hell am I—or the others—supposed to think when you behave like this?”
Kusac turned his head to look at Banner. “Do you think I’m unstable?”
Banner hesitated. “No, you’re too controlled—that’s the problem.”
He laughed. “You should hear yourself. I told you at the time, I’ll do this my way. I don’t intend to discuss my plans with anyone, and if I did, this is neither the time nor place. You know we have to show a strong, united front to the M’zullians.”
“Kusac . . .”
He grasped Banner by the shoulder, the gesture seeming more innocent than the actual force of his grip. “Do I have to tell you what I told Dzaou? You chose to come with me. I still outrank you, and I’m in charge, whether you’re a Special Operative or not. If you don’t like it, you have two options. One, you leave and take the others with you. Kezule has said he’ll take any of you who want to leave back to Haven. Two, you take me down as Lijou ordered you to do if you had doubts over my sanity or loyalty.” He grinned a Human smile, watching Banner wince as he displayed his teeth to full advantage. “If you do that, see how long any of you will last without me, considering Kezule only wants me here.”
“Neither of those is an option,” said Banner calmly, obviously controlling his ears and tail.
Kusac released him. “Then get off my back. You wouldn’t do this to any other superior officer. Your mission is over, Banner,” he said with finality. “You know it is. This one is mine, and your presence here just complicates matters for me. I have no intention of betraying Shola, you can be assured of that.”
A siren sounded, signaling the end of the exercise period, forcing them to turn their attention back to the M’zullians.
Kusac stepped forward and called them over. “There’s a muster in the assembly hall at 19:00 hours tonight,” he said, speaking to them in Valtegan. “Apparently the General feels there’s a need for livestock to be kept here so he’s arranging a three-day hunting trip to a nearby uninhabited planet. It’ll mean more work for everyone. Livestock need feeding and their quarters need to be cleaned out every day. However, I’m sure the General has good reasons to want to bring the beasts here. To hunt them, you’ll need to put into practice the skills you’ve been learning from us. Remember, the planet’s surface will be a hostile environment. The animals there are unused to a higher life-form so will be more likely to attack you. You’ll get the rest of your instructions at the briefing. Dismissed.”
“A hunting expedition,” said Khadui, coming over as the damp and muddy M’zullians saluted before heading off back to the elevator down to the showers on the Officers level. “I don’t suppose we’re included, are we? I could do with seeing a sky above my head and feeling the wind in my face.”
“We’re included. In fact, we’re to hunt as a unit. Kezule’s Challenged us to make more kills and round up more live specimens than his best group,” he replied.
“Shouldn’t be a problem if our numbers are equal,” said Khadui. “Only Kezule has ever spent any time in a wilderness. The rest have never even been outside their City of Light unless it was on a starship.”
“We’ve another advantage,” Kusac reminded them. “We’re mammals. Our scent is less likely to scare the wildlife than a reptile’s. When Kezule was taken from Chezy to be handed over to Raiban, his scent threw the riding beasts into a panic.”
“Anything in it for us?” asked Dzaou, wiping his muddy hands off on his thighs.
“Apart from the satisfaction of showing off our superiority as hunters?” asked Kusac, turning away from them. “No. But I’m sure we’ll be able to cook and eat some of that fresh meat while we’re down there.”
As the other three went for showers in the nearby hydroponics workers’ block, Banner accompanied Kusac to the elevator.
“I know my Valtegan’s nowhere near as good as yours, but I didn’t recognize some of your inflections,” his Second said quietly in the Highland language they used among themselves when they didn’t want to be overheard. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were planting Voice subliminals.”
“Linguistic variations between their different worlds,” he said blandly. “Subliminals are used by the Telepath Guild, not Voice commands, that’s a high level AlRel skill.”
“But you have access to Kaid’s memories because of your three-way Link, and I’m sure you’ve used it on Dzaou before.”
He stopped dead and rounded on Banner. “Why do you keep pushing me? Would you be happier if I was unstable? You’re supposed to support me, not make me account for every breath I take!”
“And you’re supposed to keep me informed! After lecturing me on the importance of showing the M’zullians a united front, you suddenly seem to be planting subliminals to destabilize Kezule’s control over them! What the hell are you up to? I no longer know what to think about you!”
“Obviously, if you think I want the M’zullians rebelling against Kezule!” he snarled. “I know what I’m doing, Banner, just keep your nose out of it!” With that, he headed angrily for the emergency staircase down to the level below. What he was doing with the M’zullians was subtle, might not even work; he didn’t need Banner scrutinizing it.
Still annoyed by his interchange with Banner, he took second meal in his own quarters in an effort to calm himself down before his visit to the Primes’ temple in the afternoon.
It was identical to the one allocated to them on the starboard side of the Outpost. As he opened the door, he saw that as in theirs, the larger than life-size sta
tue of the long dead Emperor which had dominated the far end had been replaced by a table to act as an altar. More tables were laid out nearby, covered in brightly colored decorations.
Gathered round one, he saw a group of six female Primes. He recognized several scents from the night before, one of them Zhalmo’s, Kezule’s daughter. Aware of his pulse beginning to quicken, he checked for Zayshul’s scent, knowing she had to be there. As the group turned to greet him, he saw her in their midst.
“I said he would come,” said Lorish, speaking in Sholan.
Closing the door behind him and clasping his hands inside the long sleeves of his robe, he began walking toward them. He felt conspicuous in this large echoing room.
“Djanas,” he said, inclining his head as he approached, consciously attempting to slow his heartbeat. He could see the altar table clearly now. On it was a small statue of their fertility Goddess, La’shol. The altar decorations were homemade, but the cloth on which they sat was of almost transparent pale blue material, intricately embroidered with various animalistic glyphs and symbols in a deep green thread. Symbols mirrored on the beaded bracelet Shaidan had made for him.
“Doctor Zayshul,” he said formally, stopping in front of her. “Nice to see you.” He could see she was nervous, her eyes darting from him to the door and back again.
“Captain,” she said. “Thank you for coming. The General hoped you’d agree to take a minor part in our celebrations since you’re the only ordained priest we have here.”
“The absence of a priest of your own faith doesn’t invalidate your service,” he said, forcing his attention away from her to the homemade altar. “It’s what’s in our hearts and minds that matters to our Gods.” As he spoke, he felt he was hearing his voice as if from a great distance, as if what he said held a deeper meaning, one of which he wasn’t yet aware. He could smell her scent now, laced with anxiety—and perfume. That was why he’d failed to recognize it. “I can’t promise to be involved, but if you tell me what it entails, maybe I can help you,” he murmured, trying not to inhale too obviously. He found the perfume pleasant, even though it almost masked her own natural scent.
“Our ceremony is held to persuade the Goddess La’shol to return to us after the winter by offering her compliments and gifts,” she said, turning round to indicate the table. “The gifts are placed here for the duration of the ceremony, then each of us takes one away with them and places it in their home as an offering to Her. Normally a gift would be offered by the Emperor and then his chief priest as the male principles. We’d like you to bring a gift as the priest, especially as your deity is male.”
“I don’t know that . . .” he began.
“You would do it as a Sholan, representing only your own God,” interrupted Kiosh, taking hold of his arm. “It wouldn’t involve any worship.”
“And we’d like you to help with the decorations,” said Lorish, moving between him and Zayshul. “They’re easy to make. We only use paper. We’ll tell you about our Goddess while we make them.”
“I’ll help with the decorations, of course,” he said as the two drew him inexorably toward a table strewn with colored paper, scissors, and rulers. Inwardly, though he began to breathe more easily, he was angry that he was obviously not going to get to speak to her alone. At least the scents of these two were overlaying hers, removing the tension he felt when he was in her company.
“That’s good,” said Zhalmo examining the folded paper flower he’d made. “You have a knack for doing this. Do you do something similar for your own festivals?”
“We weave garlands from branches of certain trees and leaves,” he said as Zhalmo collected the pile of paper flowers then got up to take them over to the altar.
Picking up another piece of colored paper, he was concentrating on folding it when he sensed her sit down beside him.
“Let me show you how to do a different one,” Zayshul said, reaching out and twitching the half-finished piece from his hands. She leaned closer and began to refold it.
“I’ve been trying to speak to you for weeks,” he said quietly.
She glanced up at him. “I’m usually in the lab or sick bay.” Her voice was equally quiet.
“They told me you weren’t.” A low level growl underscored his words.
“I assumed you were avoiding me because of . . .” She fell silent as Zhalmo returned.
“I know you have a daughter,” he said in a normal voice. “Congratulations. When will we see her?” He tried not to think of the hatchling as a possible hostage for his son’s return. That was Kezule’s way, not his. He couldn’t inflict that fear and pain on Zayshul.
“At the ceremony,” said Zayshul. “Before we bring the other children out.”
“Other children?” His voice betrayed his shock.
“Giyarishis has breeding tanks here,” said Zhalmo, pulling up another chair beside them. “We brought nine children to the age of five years old. We’ve too much work ahead of us to raise very young hatchlings, but at that age, their parents can enjoy their youth and still work—as can the children shortly. Have you decided to take part in our ceremony then, Captain?”
He felt Zayshul’s leg press against him briefly before moving away again. Was she trying to let him know he should come? If he did, maybe there was the chance they’d get a few moments together alone.
“Yes,” he heard himself say as Zayshul handed him the finished paper sculpture. “I’ll come and take part.” It was difficult to focus on anything else but her when she was so close.
“Good!” said Zhalmo, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. “It’ll do a lot to lighten your image among our people. They see you as too stern and distant.”
Zayshul stood up abruptly. “We have enough flowers now, ” she said. “I think we can let the Captain go.”
He stood, confused by her sudden change of mood. “What do I do tomorrow?”
“You all come here after the midday meal,” she said. “We’ll have a suitable gift ready for you to place before our Goddess. M’kou will sit with you and tell you when to come up to the altar to place it there. When you’ve done that, you stand beside Kezule and wait till the end of the ceremony. Tables will already be set up for the meal in here afterward.”
Jealousy? Had he really sensed jealousy from Zayshul? He remembered to nod his head.
“Come dressed as you are, in your priest’s robe,” said Zhalmo, getting up and moving her chair back so that he could leave. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.”
As he started to leave, Zayshul reached out and caught hold of his arm.
“Wait,” she said, letting him go as he turned round. Reaching up to her ear, she took out a tiny jeweled stud. “You should wear this,” she said, holding it out to him on her hand. “It’s the color of our Goddess.”
He looked at the transparent green stone. “I can’t,” he said. “I’ve never worn any ear ornaments.”
“That’s easily remedied,” she said, smiling too brightly as she reached out to take hold of his neck and leaned toward him.
Surprised, he remained still as her cheek touched his. Her breath in his ear almost made him flick it away, but before he could guess what she meant to do, she’d taken hold of its lower edge in her teeth and bitten down sharply.
Caught unaware, he let out an exclamation of shock and pain and grasped her by the shoulders, trying to push her away.
“Every Tuesday at 16:00, I’m alone in the lab,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said in a more normal voice. “Now you can wear the stud.” She reached up to thread the earring through the tiny hole she’d made in his lower ear.
Forcing himself to remain still, he clenched his teeth against the pain while she threaded it through the tiny wound then fitted the back stop on the other side. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered angrily.
“It was the only way I could think of to speak to you privately,” she replied almost inaudibly. Stepping back
, she eyed him critically. “It looks nice against your pelt, but if you take it out after tomorrow, your ear will heal as if the hole had never been there.”
Still annoyed, he reached up to touch the earring. Bringing his fingers away, he looked at them but there was only the slightest trace of blood.
“Do Sholans wear ear ornaments?” asked Zhalmo. “It does look nice against your black fur.”
“One of the females I saw at Haven wore them,” said Zayshul.
“Males seldom do,” muttered Kusac as he turned again to leave. Her automatic assumption that he wouldn’t object to the mutilation of his ear, plus the wasted afternoon, had left him feeling disgruntled and angry.
Back in his quarters, he stood in front of the mirror in his bathing room and examined the ornament. A quarter of an inch across, the green gemstone glittered brightly against the short pelt of his inner ear. It was impossible to miss, and alien. Reaching up for it, he fiddled with the backstop, wincing as his fingers touched the slightly swollen flesh surrounding the peg. He wanted to remove it, but it would be a public insult, not only to Zayshul, but to all the Primes there, and he couldn’t afford that. Releasing it, he flicked what fur he could over the stone in an attempt to hide it and turned away from the mirror, heading back to his living room for a coffee. If Dzaou and Khadui were complaining about the bracelet Shaidan had made him, this would cause even more trouble. What the hell was Zayshul thinking of, putting him in this position? But it had allowed her to tell him when she was alone in the sick bay.
As he slumped into an easy chair and sipped his drink, his resentment moved from her to Dzaou and the others. If not for their attitude, he’d have none of these problems. They shouldn’t even be here. Neither should he and Shaidan. After the ceremony, he’d go to Kezule and demand their release. No, not after the ceremony, after he’d seen Zayshul, be it by winning the bet at the hunt or afterward.
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