Kezule glanced at him. “What do you know about Alien Relations?”
“Not a lot, but I’ve been a recruiter for the Brotherhood and worked in the Alliance for over twenty years. I can certainly help screen your colonists.”
The General glowered at him, obviously hesitating.
Banner sighed. “I may not be as committed to this cause of yours as the Captain, but I will carry out his orders.”
Reluctantly Kezule nodded. “What did their Elder want from him last night?” he asked abruptly, turning away from the sick bay.
“Kusac said she only wanted to know if we were a sovereign species or still your vassals.”
“He had no right to go off with her like that.”
“He didn’t exactly have a choice, General,” muttered Banner as they walked down the corridor. “I don’t believe he welcomed her attention either. Do you think these new colonists will be willing to interbreed with your people? There seem to be a lot of families among them.”
Kezule pushed his concerns aside with difficulty. “They’ll integrate. The families all have at least one, if not two youngsters almost at sexual maturity. We’re gaining many more colonists with them than with the single volunteers.”
“There is that,” agreed Banner. “And more youngsters to bring up in your military traditions, of course.”
Kezule stopped dead and turned on Banner. “Are you Sholans born suspicious?” he demanded. “Have you seen any signs of coercion on Kij’ik? Do I force my people to join my small military group? Of course I want everyone to be trained to defend themselves and this Outpost in an emergency, but that’s a far cry from maintaining a military base! Even I’m aware the majority of my colonists are born and bred civilians!”
“You can’t blame us for being suspicious, General,” said Banner, his tone carefully neutral. “No matter what the Captain chooses to believe, we’re here under duress.”
“Ask your Captain if he wants to leave,” hissed Kezule, losing patience with him. “All of you have been free to return to Haven since the day you arrived!”
“We can’t leave Shaidan.”
“In a few weeks, you won’t have to!” he said angrily. “The more efficiently you do the job, the quicker you can all leave!”
“So you intend to keep your word this time?”
Kezule’s hand snaked out and grasped Banner by the shoulder. Seeing the brief flicker of pain in the Sholan Lieutenant’s eyes, with an effort, he flexed his fingers, making sure his claws no longer dug into his flesh.
“I intend to keep my word, Lieutenant,” he said. “You keep yours. M’kou is in the cargo hold getting ready to interview the final twenty possible colonists. Join him there, and have your crew report to M’zynal to help him stow the luggage belonging to those coming with us.”
Thoughtfully, Banner watched the General stalk off before taking his Prime comm unit from his pocket to call M’kou. At least on the N’zishok they weren’t plagued by the intermittent comms blackouts—a very few of which, he admitted to himself with a slight grin, he’d caused.
They’d completed ten of the interviews by the time a group of Ch’almuthians came with a midday meal for everyone.
Tables used for checking off the trade goods were hastily cleared and chairs augmented by suitably sized crates. Banner made a point of sitting with M’kou and M’zynal, signaling Khadui to continue keeping an eye on Dzaou who was being unusually amenable.
The food was a variety of slices of cut meats and cheeses, accompanied by large bowls of salads tossed with a variety of unusual dressings.
“A nice change in food,” Banner said, forking the meat onto his plate.
“Very,” agreed M’kou, helping himself to salad. “We’ve been given twenty flightless fowl to take back to provide fresh eggs and meat.”
“They’ll make an interesting addition to maneuvers in the fields,” said Banner, grinning. “Trying to get quietly past them will be a Challenge in itself!”
“Indeed,” said M’zynal with a pained look. “Messy creatures too—all those feathers and droppings spread all through the corridors of the ship . . .”
Banner laughed. “The joys of farming, M’zynal!” He munched his food for a few minutes, washing it down with a glass of chilled fresh fruit juice.
“So what do you make of this closer working relationship between our commanders?” he asked M’kou, putting the widemouthed glass down.
M’kou glanced at his brother, but he was concentrating on his food. “I think it’s good,” he said, folding several slices of meat with his fork and knife. “I like the life we have at Kij’ik, compared to what we had on K’oish’ik—though now I’ve seen Ch’almuth, perhaps I’d prefer to live on a planet one day. But I like the more relaxed way of life—unlike the ceremony the City of Light has. I enjoy dealing with people, sorting ordinary everyday matters for them.” He glanced up at Banner. “Soldiers don’t have to fight, Lieutenant. I prefer to protect our community by peaceful means.”
“Peace has to be guarded vigilantly,” murmured M’kou. “Fought for, if necessary, when negotiations fail.”
“Agreed,” said Banner, “but . . .”
“Lieutenant, our people now are not that dissimilar,” interrupted M’kou. “We,” he indicated M’zynal with his fork. “We are not the same as our father, Kezule. We were also programmed with a Prime background as we developed. We weren’t given his descendants’ racial hatred of your species. The only way for us to survive in this time is to follow his lead and breed ourselves back to what we once were, breed out the hate and paranoia of the M’zullians and the J’kirtikkians. Then we will not be the threat to the Alliance that you fear us to be. So yes, I approve of the understanding that’s flourishing now between our commanders.”
“What about M’zull and J’kirtikk?” he countered. “They’re a threat to everyone. This world, and the Prime one, are ripe for their picking!”
“Emperor Cheu’koh is going to contact them on the Alliance’s behalf. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”
“And if they don’t agree to a nonaggression treaty, what then?”
“Then it is even more important that our colony succeeds, Lieutenant,” said M’kou softly, picking up his juice and taking a sip.
Banner leaned toward the young aide. “Why? What do you know that we don’t?”
“Nothing, but the General was one of the top field tacticians of his time. You need him, and us, as your allies,” said M’kou. “He could exert dominance over those two worlds by virtue of his birthright alone.”
“This conversation is unsettling the Ch’almuthians,” said M’zynal. “Continue it later, if you must, in private.”
“We’ve ten people left to interview,” said M’kou, his loaded fork held in midair just short of his mouth. “So far, it seems our volunteers have been screened pretty effectively by their own people. We should be finished in another three or four hours, don’t you think, Banner?”
“Yes, at tops. When does the General plan to leave?”
“As soon as the last people and their belongings are on board. M’zynal told me the cargo is almost fully loaded,” he said, glancing at his brother for a confirmatory nod. “The General is finalizing trade agreements with the Elders now.”
“What about the other settlements?”
“Representatives from several of them arrived this morning. Apparently on our next visit, we’ll see those who were unable to attend this time.”
He nodded, continuing to eat his meal. There was something happening here that he was missing, but what, he didn’t know. Glancing down the table, he briefly caught Nishon’s eyes on him before the other looked hurriedly away. His feelings of unease were now centered on him: whatever it was, Nishon was involved, of that he was certain.
“M’kou, get M’zynal to do a thorough security check on all goods the Ch’almuthians have brought on board,” he said very quietly, leaning toward the other again.
Startled, M’kou l
ooked up at him. “For what?”
“I don’t know. Something about this doesn’t feel quite right. They are just too friendly, too obliging.”
M’kou’s pupils shrank to vertical slits. “You’re an empath, aren’t you?” he said softly. “Are you picking up a threat to the ship?”
“Nothing that obvious. They could have hidden some kind of long-range communications device, or bugs.”
“Bugs?”
“Yes, bugs. Small, easily hidden transmitters that relay private conversations and such.”
“They’re technologically backward compared to us.”
Banner caught and held his gaze. “Are they?” he asked very softly. “How do we know that for sure?”
“You’re quite right, Lieutenant,” M’kou said, raising his voice after a moment’s hesitation. “We should run our decontamination procedure. We can’t afford to allow any parasites or vermin onto Kij’ik’s controlled ecology. M’zynal, you’ll see to implementing that, won’t you?”
Somewhat reassured, Banner continued eating.
“The Sholan Lieutenant is suspicious of us,” Nishon said without preamble into the communicator.
M’zayash made a sound of annoyance. “He has empathic abilities; he would be, with you broadcasting your nervousness so loudly. We’re almost finished here, I’ll join you shortly. Meanwhile, remain in the warehouse out of his sight.”
“They’re checking everything, claiming to be decontaminating it . . .”
“Let them, they’ll find nothing, because there is nothing to find,” she said, hanging up on him.
N’zishok, Zhal-L’Shoh 22nd day (January)
He woke much later to find his forearm secured and a drip attached to it. Ghidd’ah was at his side instantly.
“How do you feel?” she asked, checking his pulse.
“Better,” he admitted. “Hungry and thirsty,” he added, trying to lick his dry lips.
She poured him a cup of water and lifted his head to help him drink it. When he tried to raise his hand to the cup, his body still felt leaden and wouldn’t respond properly, and his mind was decidedly fuzzy.
“Your fever seems to have broken. I’ll get a light meal sent down to you then I want you to rest again,” she said. “We’ve got real eggs now, and birds to lay them.”
“I should get up,” he said as she called a medic over to help her raise the bed for him. “A day in bed is long enough.”
“A day?” she smiled. “We’re on our way home, Kusac. You’ve been here for two days. I’ve had to keep you sedated to stop the symptoms from returning. And the General and Banner out of here,” she added.
He knew he should feel more shocked than he did, but right now, it didn’t seem that important.
Kij’ik, Zhal-L’Shoh 24th day (January)
Next time he woke, Zayshul was there, lying on top of his bed, her head resting against his shoulder. Underneath her scent, he could smell the familiar surroundings of his quarters on Kij’ik.
“You’re awake,” Zayshul said with a faint smile, sitting up. “We’re nursing you in your own rooms.”
He caught sight of Ghidd’ ah behind her at the doorway.
“She kept me unconscious,” he said accusingly, struggling to sit up. He still felt a little light-headed and not quite coordinated.
“I know. I told her to,” said Zayshul. “If she hadn’t, we’d have had a lot more explaining to do to everyone. As it is, you’re back with as little fuss as possible, and I have an excuse to be in your rooms.”
As he watched Ghidd’ah leave the room, shutting the door behind her, it took a moment or two for what she’d said to sink in.
“You’re becoming too devious for my good,” he murmured, automatically checking that his mental shields—those he’d learned from the Cabbaran mystic—were fully up as he turned his attention to matters of a more pressing sensual nature.
The first touch of his lips to her skin brought the craving for her back with a vengeance. “Your scent’s a poison,” he murmured, his tongue flicking out to gently graze her cheek. “You are a drug I can’t do without. I shouldn’t be doing this.” His voice, almost inaudible, tailed off as he kissed her.
When she’d gone, taking Ghidd’ah with her, he showered, un-plaiting his hair and thoroughly washing away the sweat and grime caused by his fever and the stay on Ch’almuth. He’d much to think about now he was alone and rational, not least of which was that his separation from Zayshul hadn’t diminished the effect her scent had on him. The prospect of him being able to leave Kij’ik and Zayshul without severe physical repercussions was looking bleak to say the least. He had an uneasy feeling about some unfinished business he had on Ch’almuth, but the thought was elusive, maybe no more than a real fever dream.
It was early evening when he finished, and the food he’d shared from the processor with Zayshul and Ghidd’ah had been nothing more than a snack. Given no one but the two females had seen him for the last five days, he decided it was time he made a public appearance.
With a last attempt to tame his hair, which refused to lie flat and insisted on framing his face like a U’Churian’s full mane, he pulled on a tunic and belted it, realizing he’d no idea where his knife was. His robe had gone to the laundry, he knew that. Somewhat concerned, he called Banner on his wrist comm.
“Kusac! How are you?” his Second demanded.
“I’m fine, but hungry,” he said. “Where are you, and is the mess still open?”
“Yes, and we’re in the mess now,” was the reply. “I have your knife, by the way. Ghidd’ah gave it to me to look after for you.”
“I wondered where it was. I’ll see you in five minutes,” he said and signed off.
He left his room and headed for the mess where he found Banner and Jayza sitting over mugs of hot kheffa.
As he slid into a seat opposite them, Banner passed his knife over to him. “I hadn’t realized that coming here had been your first command,” he said, indicating the single inset brass slash mark on the black hilt. “I thought you were in charge of the Jalna mission.”
He took it gratefully and slipped it into the sheath which sat over his left hip, the mark now hidden against his side. “No, that was a joint command, with Kaid.”
“Are you feeling better, Captain?” asked Jayza. “Getting a fever like that was bad luck.”
“It was no fun, believe me,” he assured the youth, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork. “This is my first real food since I took ill.”
“You certainly look well,” said Banner, eyeing him carefully. “More relaxed than I’ve seen you in a long time.”
“Don’t say a word about my hair,” he said, shooting him a look. “I seem to be carrying a static charge at the moment. I’m going to get Shishu to braid it again.”
“Mine, too,” said Jayza with a grin.
“You could cut it,” suggested Banner.
“What for?” asked Jayza at the same moment he did, making them both grin.
“Just a suggestion,” Banner said with a shrug. “I like mine shorter.”
“Mine was always long, until I joined the Khalossa,” Kusac replied.
“Captain,” said M’kou, coming over to them. “Good to see you up and about again. The General will be pleased to hear you’re recovered.”
“Thank you,” he said, pushing some greens onto his fork. “How are the new arrivals settling in?”
“Very well. I know the General wants to talk to you in detail about arrangements for them. Perhaps tomorrow morning?”
“No problem. In the meantime, tell him to let them find their feet until early afternoon tomorrow, then give them a pep talk about the differences in living on a space station. You know, the usual things I’m sure he told all of you when you arrived here, like safety drills and so on. And he has to remember these are civilians who’ve never been in space before.”
“I’ll pass your message on. The General asked me to let you know Shaidan is concerned about you and
that since this is your first evening up, perhaps you’d like to come down and see him briefly tonight. Your usual meetings will resume tomorrow night, of course.”
“Thank you,” he said, looking up at the young male. “I appreciate that.” Then Jayza’s surreptitious motions to attract his attention caught his eye and he looked questioningly at him.
“Shishu,” said Jayza succinctly.
“Ah, yes. Do you know where Shishu will be this evening? If she doesn’t mind, she has two customers wanting their hair braided tonight.”
M’kou grinned, eyeing his hair. “I can see why. She’ll likely be in her quarters right now. I’ll call in and speak to her when I drop you off at the General’s suite. I’m sure she’ll be happy to do it for you.”
He shoveled the last of the food into his mouth, washing it down with a mouthful of kheffa as he got to his feet. “I’ll see you in about half an hour in the rec?” he asked, looking at Banner and Jayza.
Banner nodded.
Kezule was waiting for him in the lounge when he left Shaidan’s bedroom. “I’d like a quick word now, if you don’t mind, Kusac, just to bring you up to date on what I’ve done with our Ch’almuthians.”
“Certainly,” he said, making for the nearest armchair.
“For the time being, I’ve put them into the M’zullians’ dorm quarters on your level, opening up more of them as needed. The ten families have been given Officer suites. They have all the facilities they need there, including the rec room and lounge.”
“I thought you were reopening that for general use.”
“I am, but M’kou thought it made sense to settle all the newcomers together and let them get used to Kij’ik and our people on a more relaxed basis than being suddenly thrust into the middle of them. We’ve more than enough rooms to relocate them to as they form their own friendships and relationships.”
He nodded. “It’s what we did when we had a sudden rise in gene-altered Sholans and Humans on my estate. Because integration wasn’t forced, they gained the confidence to move outside their own, small community and make new friends. Also, your new colonists are from several different communities, just as ours were. They need to get to know each other, too.”
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