Folding her arms, Taymar slowly peeled her attention away from the doctor, to his visible relief, and turned back to Sean. “I’ve heard that before. Are you sure you’re not a Dran behind those green eyes? The answer to your question is no.”
“Well, that’s the deal, then, isn’t it? You let the doctor here examine you, and if he clears you, I’ll get you your tea...out here. It’s all or nothing.”
She shrugged. “Your choice. I can’t release your pet telepath from in here even if I wanted to, so you will have to let me out sometime. The longer you delay, the longer she stays just like she is.”
“Since you can’t release her from in there, I’ll assume you can’t be hurting her, either. You don’t make the rules, here, Taymar. I do.”
When Taymar finally spoke, her tone was low and quiet with an edge that made him shiver. “I have lived my life being told what to do, where to go, how to live. The last few months I have been in a place where I made my own rules, my own choices. I like it that way. I will not stand quietly aside while you or anyone else tries to take that from me.
“You think I can’t hurt anyone from in here? Go ahead and keep thinking that. Enjoy that thought. But know this; I will do whatever it takes to be free again.” She stepped so close to the field he thought for sure it would spark from her contact, but it didn’t. Only the slight distortion assured him it was still active. “Whatever it takes,” she added, and then turned her hostility back to Dar. “One more thing, Captain Sean,” she added, her tone still deadly. “Before you send your keel in here to examine me, you need to ask yourself one question. Who will tend to him?” With that said, she turned and walked slowly back to the bench.
“Your choice,” returned Sean, trying for casual. He signaled for Dar to follow him out, but paused just before the exit. “Taymar,” he said, turning back to her. “I’m not going to pretend to understand your position, because I don’t. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done exactly what you did were I wearing your shoes. But what you should know is this: Right now, my crew is my first concern. What you do to them from this point on will either make your stay here much better, or it’ll make it much worse.” He studied her for any sign that his words had struck a chord, but she stood unmoving with her back to him. “I make a better friend than enemy.”
She still didn’t move, but he was sure she had heard. He swiped open the door. “If you look to your right, you’ll see a number of panels on the wall. Rub your finger across the rough triangle and each will open. One of the panels contains a disposal chamber, or waste room, as you called it.” He then turned to the panel by the door and disabled the audio. After Dar ordered two blankets to be sent to her cell and water after another hour, both men left the room.
The door had barely closed behind them when Dar turned to the captain, eyebrows raised. “Now, Captain, far be it from me to tell you how to run your ship,” he began in the tone he used when he was about to tell Sean how he should run his ship. “But what were you thinking almost agreeing to let her out? I don’t wonder why Targer said to keep that evil little creature locked up. She’s dangerous…maybe even deadly.”
Sean smiled down at his young doctor. The man was destined for command, if someone didn’t kill him first. Like all Karn, Dar was small, but what he lacked in height, he compensated for with a big mouth. That combined with his tendency to let things fly out of it that probably shouldn’t have usually placed him at the center of catastrophe. “No, Dar, something’s a bit sideways about this whole thing.”
“Like what?” Dar thumbed in the direction of the retaining room. “That one there is out of control.”
Sean shook his head. “If she’s as capable as they say, and I believe she is, then why haven’t they used her to help with the war? Can you just imagine what she could do in the right circumstances? Read minds to get into the right circles, and then use her tele-whatever to sabotage the Shreet? With the right information, I’m t’inking she could implode this ship with a thought. Imagine what she could do on that Shreet station, will you? That’s assuming her abilities run that way. So then, why haven’t they used it to their advantage?”
“They don’t have the technology?”
“They have the technology, believe me. What they don’t have is a willing partner.”
“Well, there is your problem.” Dar jabbed his finger toward the locked gray door. “She strikes me as the type who wouldn’t cooperate with dinner.”
“Exactly. If this arrangement on Drani is symbiotic like they claim, then the two species should be dependent on each other, now shouldn’t they? They should have similar goals and cooperate to achieve those goals. Is there anyt’ing about that lass that strikes you as being dependent or cooperative?”
As Dar worked through all of the implications behind Sean’s question, he nodded, shifted his equipment into his other hand, and reached out to swipe the deck-shuttle panel. “Still,” he added as he waited. “I wouldn’t be so quick to trust her.”
“Oh, I’m not. The entire brig is enveloped in a dinisolate field. The risk was negligible.”
“Not to you. What’s stopping her from ripping your throat out?”
Sean shrugged. The light on the panel blinked. “Call it intuition. I’m not t’inking she runs that way.” The door slid open and the doctor followed him into the small cubicle. “Deck four. Exactly what is it that you’d be needing to do to her?”
“Deck two. If her core temp doesn’t come up in a hurry, I will have to contact Drani.”
“We can’t do that.” Sean turned to stare at the light panel. He shouldn’t have contacted Drani either, but what had been his other option? Keep her sedated? “Not unless we absolutely have to. We don’t want any chatter going on about Arleles that might lead someone to us. Medical information will be far too specific.”
The shuttle shifted almost imperceptibly, and the ever polite male voice of the ship computer announced their arrival on deck two. Once the door slid open, Dar stood in the opening to prevent its closure. “Well, first we see if her temp comes up. If it doesn’t, I have a few things I can try without drugs.”
“All right. If you need to get in there, let me know. We’ll figure something out.”
Dar tipped his head to the side. “It’s not the getting in that worries me, it’s the getting out. Didn’t you say someone was coming to help?”
“Yes, but I don’t know how long before he gets here. Until then, we’re on our own.”
With a sarcastic snort, Dar stepped back out of the opening. “How unusual,” he said, just before the door slid closed.
Sean had to smile. He knew just how the man felt.
Chapter 8 – Holding
Taymar watched the door slide closed on the green-eyed man and his little doctor. This Captain Sean of the starship Whatever wasn’t the mindless larna she expected. Neither was the doctor, but for different reasons. She had seen her share of odd-looking people on Daryus, but the pointy doctor had to be one of the strangest. What she needed was her telepathy to figure out this captain’s game, but the dinisolate field took care of that.
She surveyed the tiny room. It was set up exactly like every other cell she had ever been in. Stark. White. Glaring lights. A bench sticking out from the wall opposite the opening, making sure she had no place to hide. The front wall of the cell was wide open and mocking. Only the energy field blocked her path. Unfortunately, it was enough. She wasn’t going anywhere. To her right were the panels Captain Sean had spoken of, and she wasted no time in finding the right one. Lack of privacy wasn’t even a consideration.
When she finished with the waste disposer, Taymar grabbed one of the blankets from the tiny shelf and pulled it tight around her shoulders. Her jaw cramped from trying to silence her chattering teeth. When she eased herself onto the floor next to the hateful bench, every muscle complained. The combination of ache and cold took her back to another dark time on Drani when she got the first taste of her possible future—a time she had tried so of
ten to forget.
It happened nearly five years ago, before Nevvis. Before all of it. She made the mistake that was still trying to destroy her. Arleles rarely needed a reason to revolt. When so many of them were crammed into the communal living space where she lived, they didn’t even need a reason, just an excuse. The day had been too hot and too long, and too many people had pushed her too far. When the thick-skulled miner refused to step aside in the hallway, she’d had enough.
He’d thought she was one of the weakling telepaths, and to be fair, that’s what everyone thought. So, he stood his ground and taunted her until, with the help of her teke, she moved him herself. That was the excuse they needed. The unit erupted in a sea of violence. Kars and keepers tremmed in from all over the city, but not before blood splattered the walls and bodies littered the floor.
None of the deaths had been at her hand, but the fact was, she had hit the trigger. And she had used her teke to do it. To her thinking, they were going to term her. She had no other choice. Taymar ran. She made it as far as the boundary fence with the combined help of her telepathy and her telekinesis. That’s where the kars caught her. But worse than that, they knew about her dual abilities.
Before the sun could set on that day, she stood in a courtroom awaiting sentencing. The cavernous room seemed to swallow her. She was a dot inside its gaping belly. But the pressure the Dran kars forced on her mind was suffocating.
Taymar expected a pronouncement of death. Someone had died, therefore so must she. That’s how it worked. She even looked for the chalki who would induce the killing pain. But there was an established protocol for a terming, and as she knelt before the thirteen Council members, she realized with sudden dread that they weren’t following it.
Her heart stopped. The faces of the Dran before her swirled as she struggled to suck in a breath. If they weren’t going to sentence her to death, it could only mean sakuritu. She would never survive that. A death sentence was her only hope. She searched the room for a way to push them into killing her. Anything. The weight of the kars’ minds held her in place, though. Her telekinesis was useless. Something else, then. But what? Anything!
Then, like a whisper in her screaming mind, the Dran Councilwoman pronounced her sentence. Three days in Holding. Relief rushed in like a cold wind. She laughed. A wild, hysterical laugh that sounded crazy even to her. The fact that laughing at any Council member was stupid wasn’t even a question. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop. Whatever Holding was, it couldn’t be as bad as sakuritu, and she was ecstatic. Her elation was short-lived.
Directly from the courtroom, she was transported to a windowless building with rows of doors and a somber-faced kar around every corner. The lighting was dim, as if the lifeless gray walls were driving it away. But the room they led her to was devoid of even that.
In the center of that ice-cold room, Taymar’s arms were pulled behind her and secured to a vertical pole. She couldn’t pull her arms forward at all, but she did have a tiny bit of slack. Enough give to kneel, but not sit. To rise, but not stand. Through the entire process, she refused to speak or acknowledge that the Dran even existed. Hate pulsed through her veins. Murder radiated from her mind.
Without a single word, the kars searched her once more and left, pulling the door closed behind them. Taymar stared out into total darkness.
Time meandered along, looping and turning until it had no meaning. She counted breaths and played games to distract herself from the cold and ache, but soon even that was lost. Sometime later, a kar entered the room. He brought with him the dim light from the hall and a container of water. She guessed her first day in Holding had passed.
Taymar could barely see past the red of her rage. The kar had not even stepped fully into the cell when she focused on the water bottle he carried and sent it exploding into the air, freezing the falling water into shards of ice meant for his throat had he not activated his protection field. She would live to regret that outburst for the rest of her life. Not only had it added a day to her sentence, but more importantly, she had revealed the level of her previously hidden telekinetic ability.
When the second day finally arrived, her desperation almost got the better of her. The door slid open and the light blazed in from the hall, blinding her. As she squeezed her eyes shut against the assault, a voice from just inside the door asked, “I have your water, Taymar. What do you plan to do with it today?”
She would have spit on him if she could have gathered up any saliva. Instead, letting her fear and rage make her decisions as she always did, she croaked back in a rough, cracked voice, “Come over here and find out, skall!” Her reference to the putrid insect was the worst insult her foggy brain could manage.
The kar didn’t approach. He only said, “Think, Taymar. Think,” before leaving her alone once again in the freezing darkness to do nothing but think about the pain in her legs and back. To do nothing but wait for a Dran kar.
It seemed like a full week had passed before the door finally opened again. Her entire body was cramping from the constant shivering. Her legs and back screamed out with the slightest movement. Getting even a little comfortable had become impossible. If she leaned against the pole, her back spasmed in protest. If she leaned away from the pole, putting her weight on her arms, they would burn and shake. And no matter what she did, her legs begged to stretch.
When the blinding light flooded into the room for the third time, there was no fight left in her. Desperation had long since won that war. She was ready.
“Do you want water?” the same voice asked.
She couldn’t see him through the burning light, but she knew him like an old friend by the soft sound of his voice. Had she wanted to say something snide, she couldn’t have. Speech was no longer an option. Instead, she just nodded.
The kar came closer, stepping out of the lighted hallway. He wore a mask over his nose and mouth. Since she had been immersed in it, she hadn’t noticed or even considered the stench of her own waste. She had been careful at first to relieve herself on one side of the pole and kneel on the other, but in the darkness she couldn’t stay oriented for long. Her knees were wet; that she knew. With what, though? For the first time in her life, Taymar was embarrassed before a kar.
“Rakki,” he ordered in that quiet, calm voice.
Taymar obeyed, and as her knees hit the floor, she couldn’t swallow the grunt that scratched out in response to the pain. The kar placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head. Holding the bottle against her lips, he squeezed the water into her mouth.
More than anything, Taymar wanted to drain the container. She couldn’t. Her throat was too dry, too swollen. In fact, to her dismay, she barely managed to swallow. But the kar was patient. He gave her a little at a time and waited. All too soon, he announced that she had been given all she was allowed, and he left. The door closed again, taking the light with it. And her hope.
When the door finally opened for the fourth time, Taymar couldn’t move. After several tries, she managed to crack one eyelid, but the burning light stabbed into her brain, and she closed it again. The kar’s voice droned in the background, but his words muffled into short periods of silence and then started up again without warning. He wanted something, but she had no idea what it was.
Long ago, all feeling in her legs and arms had vanished. They were someone else’s appendages attached to her body. She wondered if she would ever feel them again, but that thought disappeared when a hissing sound filled the room.
Once again, she focused on her surroundings and forced her eyes open just as warm water splashed up her leg. It felt…it felt like something, and that was more than she had expected. With practiced methodology, the kar sprayed the soiled floor, washing the excrement into a drain in the corner.
Little by little, her eye adjusted to the light. The kar returned with a blanket, dropped it on the floor, and unclipped his laser key from his belt. He was young for a kar. Her age. But as he crossed the room, he held himself with
a little too much confidence, so maybe closer to thirty. His hair was the color of dried grass, but not half as tidy. It defied his obvious attempt at neatness and grew every direction but flat. But his eyes were what caught her attention when he stepped up to her, laser key in hand. They were the soft gold of a sunrise.
When he stepped around behind her, she had less than a heartbeat to panic. Her heart thumped against her chest as she tried to imagine what could possibly come next, but before any horrifying thoughts could fully form, he fired at her armband and released her from the pole. What came next was not an improvement.
As the restraint dissolved, so did the tension. But it was replaced by severe cramps. She wanted to sink to the floor and throw her arms out in front of her, as she had thought about doing for four days, but they wouldn’t move. And when she tried to sit down on her feet, her knees screamed out a similar protest. She wobbled for a moment and then proceeded to fall face-first toward the hard floor. The kar caught her.
Without comment, he held her upright and eased her down to a sitting position. While she sat trembling on the wet floor of the freezing room trying to coax her arms forward, the kar squatted down in front of her and began unbuttoning her shirt.
“What are you doing?” Taymar whispered. She had been going for a shout, but her throat didn’t cooperate. As she said it, though, she wondered what she could possibly do about it if she didn’t like the answer.
The kar smiled. “I’m taking off your clothes. Believe me. You won’t be wanting them. Can you remove your own pants?” he asked as he unhooked the last button and peeled off her soiled shirt.
After considering for a moment how much dignity she would have left after watching someone pull off her putrid pants, she decided she was to the task. Before she could answer, the kar laughed and left the room. In painstaking micro-movements she managed to coax her unwilling arms forward and, with the help of her telekinesis, remove the rest of her offending clothes. She scooted back along the wet floor until her back hit the pole, and pulled her knees up to her chest. If there had ever been a time in her life when she had felt more vulnerable, she couldn’t remember it.
Shield of Drani (World of Drani Book 1) Page 12