Through that brief link, Rod’h saw a glimpse of fire, blessed light—the faeros! He and Osira’h had desperately tried to call the faeros … and now the fiery elementals had come to Mijistra.
The Shana Rei were angered, but Rod’h shut them out, walled them off to show they could do nothing further to him. Eventually, the creatures of darkness withdrew, but he didn’t believe he had won. He would keep being defiant, because that was the only thing he could do, the only strength he could show.
As if petulant, the Shana Rei sent in the black robots to torment him again.
Exxos appeared in the entropy bubble, like a giant beetle with sharp claws clacking, threatening. Another ominous robot appeared, then ten more.
“You cannot frighten me,” Rod’h said. “And you won’t learn anything more from me.”
“We know,” said Exxos, as they closed in. “But we will continue, nevertheless.” Their crimson optical sensors blazed, and they took pleasure in telling him, “There are many of us now—a million. And our large-scale attacks will begin soon.”
CHAPTER
12
SHAWN FENNIS
Although they had escaped from Kuivahr before the black shroud sealed off the planet, Shawn Fennis still faced a crisis on the other side of the Klikiss transportal. During the frantic evacuation, medical technicians had loaded group after group of the misbreeds through the dimensional doorway … but now the patchwork Ildirans could barely survive.
This backwater place was not adequate for their requirements. Gorhum was just a small, isolated outpost that did not have the medical facilities or sophisticated support equipment for misbreeds and their special needs. Fennis had realized that right away.
Fewer than fifty human workers resided at the transportal station, support personnel waiting for infrequent travelers who wanted to use the Klikiss transportal network. The outpost’s medical facility was little more than a glorified first-aid station.
The sleepy personnel were understandably astonished to receive the sudden flood of refugees—and even more astonished by their physical appearance. Fennis had grown up on Dobro, accustomed to the unusual “mistakes” of the breeding program. He was a member of the first free generation after the breeding camp was shut down, and he had stayed behind to work with the program’s leftovers. The former human prisoners and their former Ildiran masters had vowed to work together to heal the scars of their history. Fennis had even taken an Ildiran mate, whom he considered more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen. Together, he and Chiar’h had volunteered to work in Tamo’l’s sanctuary domes on Kuivahr, tending the worst genetic flukes and helping them lead a somewhat comfortable life.
But the misbreeds wanted more than just existence—they wanted to be useful. These were the greatest outliers of the breeding program, and they needed their tangled lives to have some meaning, some benefit to result from all their suffering. They might have been bred as capricious experiments, but the misbreeds had their own worth. As Fennis got to know them, he wanted to help them find their worth, their purpose.
When the shadows attacked Kuivahr, they had tried to seize Tamo’l and Osira’h, to study the unlikely powers of those halfbreed sisters. But had the Shana Rei wanted only those two? Fennis suspected that the creatures of darkness might also have wanted to eradicate the misbreeds, in case they held some latent, undiscovered power.
Fennis, Chiar’h, and others had taken the misbreeds by boatload after boatload through the transportal wall to Gorhum. It should have been the safest way to escape. Tamo’l and Tom Rom should have been right behind them.
The stress of the fear and the evacuation, as well as the loss of their medical support equipment, had placed several misbreeds in crisis. After the groups passed through the transportal with a backwash of salt water from the stormy Kuivahr sea, some of the misbreeds struggled to survive. One in particular went into respiratory arrest, fighting to breathe: Mungl’eh was one of the most severely deformed misbreeds, with a sluglike body and atrophied flippers, but a sweet, beautiful face. When she began to sing, Mungl’eh could seize the heartstrings of a listener and weave them into any pattern she chose.
Just after the transportal was sealed and the crisis calmed down to held-breath tension, the Gorhum station chief stared at the sluglike misbreed writhing in the saltwater puddles on the floor, struggling to inhale. Chiar’h rushed forward with her medical pack and applied a respiratory enhancer across Mungl’eh’s toothless mouth.
“We are safe now,” she said in soothing voice, stroking the soft sloping shoulders. “Breathe slowly. We are far from the shadows.”
Fennis, one of the last evacuees to come through the transportal, stood shuddering, looking around the complex as the well-trained Kuivahr medical kithmen found places for the misbreeds to rest in the transportal reception area.
Fennis grabbed the attention of the Gorhum reception staff. “Do you have cots?” When they didn’t move quickly enough, he raised his voice. “We need assistance! Don’t just stare.”
The facility chief blinked in disbelief at the freakish forms that had just stumbled through the stone trapezoidal wall. “Uh, we’ve got a station doctor. I’ll get her.”
“We need equipment more than we need another doctor,” said Chiar’h. “Most of us are already medical technicians, and we are familiar with the infirmities of these misbreeds. Bring what you have.”
Gor’ka and Har’lc, two severely deformed but otherwise healthy misbreeds, offered to help. The Dobro breeding program had mated kiths that were unlikely to interbreed under normal circumstances, just to see what might result. Har’lc was a combination of an otterlike swimmer and a lizardlike scaly kith. He possessed the correct number of limbs and eyes, but his skin was a constant nightmare of rashes, blotches, and peeling patches.
Gor’ka had three eyes, one located halfway down his cheek on a face that appeared to be made of melted wax. He reached out with a flexible, tentacle-like arm, wrapped it around a handle, and helped Har’lc pick up a levitating pallet that held a bedridden Pol’ux, whose body was a landscape of oozing boils. He seemed to be allergic to life itself, yet Pol’ux endured, as they all did.
As Har’lc and Gor’ka hauled the misbreed away from the saltwater puddles on the transportal room floor, the Gorhum facility doctor rushed in bearing first-aid kits. Chiar’h seized one and rummaged through the items. She didn’t recognize the unfamiliar supplies, but she found a respirator and brought it to Mungl’eh. The misbreed singer cooed and relaxed, and soon her respiratory crisis was over.
In the arrival area, the misbreeds kept up a loud background drone of distraught conversation and noises. Fennis wiped perspiration from his freckled brow and turned to the station chief. “Thank you for your assistance. My name is Shawn Fennis. We just evacuated from Kuivahr—the Shana Rei destroyed our world. Everything there is gone, and we’re the last refugees.”
“Wait!” gasped Alaa’kh from a gaping open mouth, looking back at the blank transportal. “Where is Tamo’l?”
Fennis turned to look in distress at the now opaque stone trapezoid. He was surprised to see no sign of her. “I … was expecting one more group to come through.”
Tamo’l and Tom Rom had organized the rushed evacuation, while numerous Ildiran swimmers had helped move the deformed patients across the water to the transportal wall. Many of the sleek swimmers now stood dripping in the Gorhum reception area, but there was no sign of Tamo’l or Tom Rom.
“What are we going to do with you all?” said the station chief in clear dismay.
“You’re going to help us,” Fennis said, and he stared back at the stone wall, willing it to open so that Tamo’l could join them, dreading that she and Tom Rom had been caught by the shadows on the other side.
“Where is Tamo’l?” Alaa’kh demanded, again.
On his levitating pallet, Pol’ux thrashed about so that two of his hand-sized boils burst, and he cried out in pain. “We need Tamo’l.”
Chiar’
h tried to reassure him. “We will take care of you. I’m sure Tamo’l is safe.”
Stabilized, Mungl’eh breathed easier. She lifted her head on an uncooperative body and began to hum a beautiful melody that served as a lullaby for the others. Even Shawn Fennis felt his heart grow warm and calm. All the refugees also settled down.
“We’ll care for these people and let them rest,” Fennis told the station chief, “but we need to arrange passage to Ildira. We must go home to our Mage-Imperator.”
Somehow, the chief managed to look relieved and alarmed at the same time. “We don’t get a lot of traffic going into the Ildiran Empire, but we’ll certainly help arrange the ships to get you out of here. Maybe we can divert the next trader who arrives.” The man looked skeptically at the misbreeds. “I hope they have the facilities to transport your patients with all those … special needs.” He seemed uncomfortable just looking at the strange patchwork people.
“Where is Tamo’l?” Alaa’kh said for a third time.
Fennis didn’t have an answer.
* * *
The rescued misbreeds and swimmer kith gathered their strength for a day, but tension increased in the small, crowded station. Tamo’l should have come through long before now, and Fennis would not let anyone activate the Kuivahr coordinate tile, for fear of what might lie on the other side.
His hope was that Tom Rom had used a different coordinate tile to take Tamo’l to another planet, and that they were safe. But they had no way of knowing.
The shadows had swallowed the planet entirely, and it was far too dangerous to go back there. He didn’t dare let anyone else return to the shrouded ocean world because of the risk. With a heavy heart, knowing he was cutting Tamo’l off, if she was indeed still trying to get through, Fennis took a heavy metal bar and destroyed the Kuivahr coordinate tile.
Now no one could get through from there … especially the creatures of darkness.
CHAPTER
13
TOM ROM
The Pergamus medical library contained thousands of deadly pathogens and virulent diseases. The planet’s atmosphere was poisonous, and all research domes were rigged with instant self-destruct systems.
Tom Rom considered it the safest place in the Spiral Arm.
After escaping from Kuivahr with Tamo’l, and destroying the Klikiss transportal on Auridia when the shadows tried to flood through, Tom Rom headed for Pergamus.
The half-Ildiran medical researcher seemed withdrawn. He was no expert on Ildiran psychology, but he thought Tamo’l’s behavior indicated acute mental shock—for good reason. To help her recover, he offered the privacy of his personal cabin, and she slept for a good part of the journey. He could sleep later if necessary.
Tom Rom liked quiet time to think and plan anyway, to review mistakes made, and to frame his report for Zoe Alakis. He knew she would be waiting for him.
Per Zoe’s request, he had gone to Kuivahr to assess the genetics of the Ildiran misbreeds. He had taken great risks to bring Tamo’l back with him, but he would downplay the danger so Zoe wouldn’t worry. She always worried.
As soon as the Shana Rei began their attack at Kuivahr, Tamo’l should have listened to him and escaped. Prince Reynald of Theroc and the Mage-Imperator’s daughter Osira’h had both fled with most of the Roamer distillery workers, but Tamo’l refused to leave before all of her misbreeds were safe. Logically, she should have cut her losses and gotten away, since the freakish anomalies could barely survive under the best of conditions and with constant care, but she had insisted.
And so Tom Rom helped evacuate the misbreeds through the transportal to Gorhum first. Once they were gone, it was a simple matter to change the coordinate tile so that he and Tamo’l arrived at the planet Auridia instead, beneath the Roamer complex of Newstation. During their escape, she had been stunned, resistant, practically catatonic, but Tom Rom whisked her away to his ship, along with all of her data about Ildiran genetics. His priority was to carry out Zoe’s wishes. Always Zoe …
Now he flew into the Pergamus system along a precise flight path, broadcasting his authorization ID code so the mercenary security force wouldn’t blow him out of space. Tamo’l rode beside him in detached silence.
After verifying his identity, the mercenary ships met the vessel and escorted it toward the planet. “Welcome back, sir,” said the security team leader. “Any report on the situation in the Spiral Arm? We’re cut off here.”
“All hell is breaking loose,” he said. “The Shana Rei and their black robots are attacking planets. The Confederation is in an uproar, the Ildiran Empire reeling.” He stared hard at the captain’s face on his comm screen. “You’re better off here where it’s calm and sensible.”
He left the security team behind as he dove through the atmosphere toward the sterile main dome. Tamo’l became aware of her surroundings, as if awakening. She looked at the unfamiliar planet below, the misty atmosphere, the escort ships following them. “Where are we?”
“Your new research facility. My employer will be glad to have you as part of the team.”
She showed no sign of alarm at the answer; in fact, she showed no reaction at all.
Although Zoe’s interests focused primarily on human diseases, the intensive genetic knowledge Tamo’l had compiled over years of analyzing the misbreeds made her a profoundly talented researcher—one that Zoe could certainly use.
Though she asked no questions, he continued, “My employer has gathered cures and treatments for countless human diseases, and by adding your Ildiran work, Pergamus will contain the greatest collection of medical information anywhere in the Spiral Arm.”
Tamo’l nodded distantly, not understanding the magnitude of what he was saying. “What about my misbreeds? Are they on Pergamus too?”
“You don’t need to worry about them. I helped to get them away as I promised, and now you’re with me. You have work to do here.”
Alarm finally penetrated her expression. “But where are the misbreeds?”
“Safe,” he said. “Not your concern at the moment.”
“I need to let them know where I am. Shawn Fennis and Chiar’h are quite skilled, but if I am not there, the misbreeds will worry.”
Tom Rom needed to stop the conversation. “If you like, I can check on them and bring you reports, but you’ll be much more interested in the work my employer has for you.”
Tamo’l didn’t look convinced, and she retreated into herself again.
He guided the ship through the buffeting chemical mists. The fog lifted and the bright daylight revealed only a barren brown landscape blotched with black and gray lichens. The main hemispherical outpost was armored and reinforced, consisting of multiple nested domes leading into the protected central chamber where Zoe lived in sterile isolation. Clusters of satellite domes were separated widely enough that if any emergency fail-safe detonations occurred, the collateral damage would be minimal. Orbital Research Spheres conducted the most dangerous work in the perfect quarantine of space.
After docking, he and Tamo’l passed through the security interlocks into one of the outer-hemisphere rooms. He sat the halfbreed researcher in front of the large comm screen and activated it.
Zoe was waiting for them, her dark eyes eager. He could see her relief that he had come home again safely. He reassured her, “I was successful, Zoe. I’ve got all the genetic research, and I also brought the lead researcher from the sanctuary complex.”
Zoe regarded her on the screen, and Tamo’l responded with a formal nod. “I have much more data, but I need to care for my misbreeds,” Tamo’l said. “I have to be sure they are tended, that they are kept safe.”
“Not my concern,” Zoe said. “We intend to continue your research. I will provide an entire dome for you to analyze the data you brought us.”
Tom Rom cut in, “You can do more to help the misbreeds if you stay here, Tamo’l—develop treatments, maybe even a genetic cure. You won’t need to worry about the Shana Rei or contaminatio
n or distractions here on Pergamus. You can do pure research, use equipment and facilities far more extensive than anything you had in the sanctuary domes.”
“The Mage-Imperator always provided what I needed,” Tamo’l said.
“But now you’ll need more,” Zoe responded. “Use our equipment to create a full genetic profile of all the misbreed specimens. We have modeling programs and biological-analysis capabilities that will help you obtain insights. Unravel the secrets, find every possible disconnect in their genes, and then use our methods to develop repairs that will help them survive.”
Tom Rom was pleased to see how well Zoe understood the incentive that would drive Tamo’l. He expected the Ildiran researcher to resist what she might view as imprisonment, but instead Tamo’l wore her strange disoriented look. She averted her eyes, and her attitude changed. “Yes, I need to analyze the misbreeds. They all have interesting, undocumented strengths. The combination of kiths led to many unexpected results. I wish to understand them. I will use your facility and find the necessary answers.”
“Then this will be a beneficial partnership for all of us,” Zoe said.
CHAPTER
14
GENERAL NALANI KEAH
Wiping out the horrific biological black market on Rakkem had been a satisfying mission for General Keah, but not satisfying enough. There were worse enemies abroad in the Spiral Arm—and she had a lot more ass-kicking to do.
“We accomplished a good thing there, General,” said Admiral Haroun on the bridge of the Okrun as the CDF battle group returned to Earth.
None of the CDF ships had taken any damage in the Rakkem engagement. Not a scratch. The despicable biological black marketers and illicit medical researchers had offered no resistance when the Confederation Defense Forces had cracked down on the place.
“It’s always good to clean up the neighborhood,” Keah said. “But we shouldn’t have had to bother with nonsense like that in the first place. The Shana Rei and the bugbots are raising hell across the Spiral Arm.” She made a disgusted sound. “We’ve got more important things to worry about.”
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