‘We don’t get many tourists here.’
Zeven and his company turned about to see the exiled Qusay of Phemoria seated close by, and several other Phemorian women stood around her — one who was the very image of Jalila Lamus.
‘Especially of your gender.’
‘Forgive the intrusion, Highness,’ Zeven bowed his head to her, and Aurora and Telmo followed his lead. ‘But we bring news of your daughter, and the coup on Phemoria.’
‘My daughter is aware of my exile?’ Clarona appeared very relieved to learn this.
‘Yes, Majesty,’ Zeven concurred, not looking up. ‘And she seeks a means to free you from your exile, without causing a war or a revolution.’
‘Please rise,’ Clarona granted, keen to look them all in the eye. ‘Who are you, and how did you get here?’ The Qusay did not sound annoyed, but rather relieved to see them.
‘My name is Zaman Vidor, son of Spyridon Vidor of the royal house of Sermetica, and your sister, the Princess Satomi.’
‘Impossible; that babe was killed.’ Clarona was stunned to meet a nephew she never knew she had.
‘Not on Maiara Vidor’s watch,’ Zeven outlined. ‘It was also the late Dowager Duchess of Vidor who preserved my mother’s body and ultimately saved her life. Although I wonder now, with all her great foresight, if she saw all that has now come to pass because of it?’ He couldn’t help but sound ashamed.
‘You do not support your mother’s claim?’ Clarona assumed from his tone.
‘I do not,’ Zeven stated in no uncertain terms. ‘She claims a right to your throne as the eldest daughter, yet she ran from that responsibility, and having been dead for thirty years she is the eldest daughter no more.’
Clarona could not suppress her amused smile. ‘You make a valid argument,’ she acknowledged. ‘And your companions?’
‘This is my wife, Aurora, and my advisor, Telmo Decree.’
The Qusay served them a rather strained smile of greeting. ‘Your wife,’ she repeated, curious. ‘And do you have children?’
‘A daughter, six years old,’ Zeven replied, knowing exactly why the question had been asked.
‘An heir to Satomi’s claim,’ Clarona concluded, very concerned to learn this.
‘Over my dead body,’ Zeven assured the exiled Qusay, who appeared unsure if she should be reassured or insulted.
‘And where is this child now?’ Clarona probed.
‘She is with the Old Ones, and it is they, the Dropa, who aided us to seek you, Highness.’ Zeven hoped his means would not prove even more offensive.
The statement was shocking to her. ‘It is my understanding that the Old Ones still resent the citizens of this city, even though it was they who betrayed us.’
‘Forgive my saying so, Highness, but I believe that everyone involved in the incident in question was deceived, the Dropa most of all.’
The Qusay’s tolerance departed. ‘They sent a monster to impregnate my mother, who was found guilty by his own admission!’
‘From my own investigations into this matter, I believe that monster was summoned into Phemoria by someone inside the royal palace,’ Zeven ventured. ‘The same someone who aided both your sister, and the boy child of that horrid union, to escape Phemoria.’
‘What?’ Clarona stood. ‘Who would dare betray their Qusay? The Phemoray would have known.’
‘Not if the perpetrator had some sort of psychic protection,’ Telmo proffered.
‘And perhaps the intention was not to betray the Qusay,’ Zeven said. ‘Maybe they sought to aid the Qusay by ridding her of the Phemoray on the one night that the crown was removed from her head?’
The suggestion stumped Clarona, for it was true, the only time the Phemoray would permit the crown to be removed from the head of the Qusay was during mating, as the Phemoray could not tolerate men. ‘Who?’ she probed.
‘I have no answer to that as I have not been at liberty to accustom myself with many of the occupants of your court,’ Zeven was sorry to advise. ‘But surely there are very few people with the power and guts to arrange such instances.’
‘If I might speak,’ Aurora held up a finger in question, and the Qusay granted her request with a nod. ‘I met with Taren shortly after Satomi’s coup and she mentioned that she had met the general of the Valoureans and felt that she fit the profile of the person Zeven has been seeking.’
‘General Prochazka,’ Clarona named the woman in question and looked to the woman alongside her, who was clearly Jalila’s twin. She nodded to second the reasoning.
‘As head of the Valoureans, Prochazka would have been on guard the night that our last Qusay lost her sanity. She was the one charged with killing the boy child who resulted from that union,’ the Qusay’s advisor reasoned.
‘And now she is aiding Satomi, who trusts her completely.’ Clarona was deeply concerned. ‘She could be intending to seize power.’
‘Or merely seeking to right past mistakes before they come to light?’ Zeven suggested. ‘If the curses and Khalid Mansur are destroyed, there shall be nothing to inform the Qusay Satomi that her main ally was the one who gave Khalid his freedom. Again, this is postulation, but who else could possibly have managed it?’
Clarona shook her head, unable to come up with an alternative and sank to a seat once more.
‘Destroying the curse of the Phemoray and the crew from Dead Man Downs on Sermetica is one of AMIE’s primary objectives,’ Zeven went on. ‘But Khalid is innocent of any crime committed whilst under the influence of Chironjivi’s curse, and I will not allow either him or his father to carry the blame any longer — the truth must be known.’
‘Chironjivi?’ Clarona queried. ‘Do you refer to the last prince of Phemoria?’
‘The very one,’ Zeven enlightened.
‘But he perished —’ The exiled queen abandoned her protest as Zeven and his comrades all shook their heads. ‘Does no one simply die any more?’ Clarona emphasised her frustration.
‘It would seem Chironjivi learned a few of his mother’s tricks and summoned up a curse, very similar to that of the Phemoray, by sacrificing the lives of the damned men on board his vessel before it crashed. Both the last prince and his curse survived. And as soon as Khalid was old enough to serve them, this unnatural apparition sought him out and masqueraded as his father, implanting an amulet in him as a child that compelled him do the curse’s bidding.’
‘I was never told of this.’ Clarona was shocked and frustrated. ‘The Phemoray kept me ignorant about a great many things.’
‘As I said,’ Zeven concluded, ‘we have all been deceived.’
For a moment Clarona pondered the situation, but was none the happier for it. ‘I wish I could help with these struggles, but there is no release for any of us here without first putting the curse of the Phemoray to rest. Satomi must not be allowed to destroy the crown, or every soul in this etheric city will perish,’ Clarona informed him.
‘I am aware of this,’ Zeven assured her, as he remembered how the curse had been lifted last time around. ‘Taren also knows this, and will not allow any harm to befall the item before it can be dealt with accordingly. As soon as our talks are complete, and with aid from the Dropa, I intend to return to the physical world and aid the AMIE crew.’
‘The Old Ones are aiding you … us, why?’ Clarona was suspicious.
‘Because they know what you now know,’ Zeven replied. ‘That the fault in this situation rests squarely on the shoulders of no one person living.’
‘Except Prochazka,’ the Qusay’s advisor was quick to say.
‘If our speculation proves correct.’ Zeven couldn’t concur with any certainty.
‘Prochazka is ruthless,’ Clarona said, knowing the subject better than her company. ‘She will die before she admits to crimes that she is prepared to go to such lengths to keep hidden.’
Telmo held up a finger, having had a revelation. ‘While it is true that there was no way to release the occupants of this city while
the Phemoray held sway here and a rift existed between you and the Dropa … that is not necessarily the case now.’ Telmo chuckled as he observed the occupants of this city going about their everyday life, performing habitually psychic feats that those among the Zagriata were still striving to master. ‘Provided, that is, that the occupants of this city desire to be released?’
It wasn’t only Zeven who was perplexed by his advisor’s epiphany.
‘None of us came here by choice,’ Clarona spoke for the women around her, who all stood tall to support her response. ‘If you can unlock this prison, there is not a soul here that shall not gladly return to the life they were meant to live.’
16
THE WAITING GAME
Lucian was slumbering peacefully in the medical chambers, his vitals being monitored closely by Dr Madri. Taren returned to Oceane with Vadik who, with his command over the elements, encapsulated the Soul Keep in the same metal compound used for the case currently containing the Phemorian crown, the canister that held Chironjivi’s trinket, and in the walls of every psychic containment prison in the USS. Until Zeven and his company returned with the final component of the curse, two members of the crew would stay stationed in the hut on Oceane in shifts to keep an eye on the Soul Keep and the area where their crew mates had vanished from this world. Vadik being the only crew member who was not completely exhausted in the wake of the day’s events, volunteered to take the first watch alone.
The news of Ringbalin being taken hostage by Phemoria of his own volition was not received well by any of the crew.
Ayliscia did not openly display an attachment to the outcome. ‘I will attend to Module C in his absence.’ The look on the Phemorian’s face was one of resentment and was aimed more at Jalila than Taren, yet there was a tinge of relief there as well.
The decision to postpone the rest of the debrief was unanimous.
Taren hit her sleeping pod and didn’t wake for two days.
When Leal was summoned to report to the medical quarters for a check-up in the aftermath of the crew’s incarceration, he was a little nervous. What really ailed him was not going to show up on any of the doctor’s equipment — but as a fellow telepath, Kassa was bound to pick up on it anyway. Honestly, he’d gone beyond the point of caring about embarrassment or rejection — his recent experiences had taught him that in their line of work, they could be dead tomorrow. If he didn’t go after what he wanted today then the opportunity might never come again, and he would rather live with rejection than regret.
He entered the waiting room and buzzed Kassa’s surgery intercom to let her know he was here.
‘Be right with you. Take a seat,’ came her reply.
As Leal was rested, showered and way too agitated to sit down, he wandered about the small room, observing the pictures on the wall. None of these images were quite how he’d remembered them, but they were lovely nonetheless.
It blew his mind that Taren had reconstructed this entire ship from memory. Even the clothes in his wardrobe were the same, although brand new and not quite as comfortable. But he wasn’t complaining — at least Taren remembered his favourite jacket in the finest detail, so her powers of observation were pretty damn impressive.
The door to the surgery opened and the captain was dismissed from therein.
‘Not too shabby for a dead man,’ Kassa was saying, as she saw Lucian out.
‘I still rather smell like one though.’ Lucian had a whiff of himself and cringed, but smelled something more pleasant as he entered the waiting room and spotted Leal. ‘At least your next patient smells much better than I do.’
Maybe I went a little overboard with the aftershave? Leal considered, feeling a blush rising in his face, which was always far too noticeable with his fair complexion.
Fortunately his company were focused on each other. ‘If a bad odour is all you have to complain about in the wake of your resurrection, you’re doing well.’ Kassa grinned at Lucian and looked to Leal briefly. ‘Just give me two ticks to clean up in here.’
‘That’s a polite way of saying get rid of the horrid smell,’ Lucian clarified, chagrined. Kassa did not dispute this, but merely grinned as she closed the door.
‘Good to see you, Captain.’ Leal shook Lucian’s hand. ‘The last time I was in your company, I felt sure it was the last time I would be in your company.’
Lucian smiled broadly, obviously pleased to see him also. ‘Prochazka did quite a dance on your face,’ the captain said, referring to Leal’s numerous cuts, bumps and bruises.
‘Where’s Ringbalin when you need him?’ Leal’s jest quashed the mood somewhat, and the captain appeared a little vexed as their handshake ended. ‘So I look that bad, huh?’ Leal changed the subject.
‘Not at all,’ Lucian was diplomatic. ‘Very macho.’ The captain cocked an eye, and glanced back to the surgery from where he’d just come, ahead of rousing a smile once again. ‘Well, good luck in there,’ he said. ‘I’m off to find a shower and smell a little less macho.’
‘It’s for the best.’ Leal held his nose to cover the awkward moment, and watched the captain leave. Leal never gave a damn what he looked or smelled like normally and he felt sure the captain had picked up on his ulterior agenda this morning, but like the true gentlemen that he was, Lucian said nothing of it.
The door to the surgery opened once again and Kassa smiled warmly in greeting. ‘I’m ready when you are, kiddo.’ She disappeared back inside, and failed to notice him cringe.
‘Kiddo’ was a general term of endearment that Kassa used on everyone on board AMIE, a subtle reminder that she was one of the most senior members of the crew. And with Zelimir Ronan gone, she was the most senior crew member! Still, Leal really hated when she referred to him thus; it only emphasised the difference in their ages, and made his purpose here this morning just that much more awkward.
Maybe today is not the day? He felt his confidence fraying before he’d even stepped in the room.
‘On the bed, let’s take a look at you,’ Kassa instructed as he entered, laying out clean implements on a table in preparation for the examination. ‘I want to examine those lacerations on your head.’
Leal stripped off his jacket and tossed it on a chair, then jumped up to a seat on the bed as instructed.
Kassa dragged her table around nearer to him, and took up her ophthalmoscope to check his eyes and ears. ‘Where are you feeling the most pain?’
That was a loaded question, as if he chose to tell the truth she had to know he wasn’t joking. The memory of being trapped in a cell on Phemoria with no idea what had become of Kassa was enough motivation.
‘Here.’ He held a hand to his heart, choking on the emotion the confession triggered in him.
Kassa’s jovial mood sobered. ‘What did they do?’ The doctor was immediately more choked up than he was. ‘I’m sorry.’ She stepped away, held a hand over her mouth and gasped back her emotion. ‘You don’t have to answer that.’
He gripped the wrist of the hand she was using to cover her face, feeling a little guilty for upsetting her unduly. ‘They locked me up away from you,’ he confessed the worst of it.
Kassa looked to him, hopeful. ‘That’s all?’ She gasped as he allowed her to perceive and feel the memory that had inspired his candour in this moment.
‘That’s all it took,’ he assured.
‘I was so worried —’ they both confessed at once, smiling through their tears, when, much to Leal’s delight Kassa placed her implement aside and overwhelmed him with a deep heartfelt embrace.
‘I’ve been such an idiot! I could have lost you.’ She disclosed her true feelings for once, and pulled away to divulge a few secrets of her own.
‘Before we’d even met I knew you were the one for me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to believe I could possibly be that fortunate.’
Leal was in complete shock — elating though this news was, he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘It was something I picked up on the first time I met Zeven — I didn’t know what the vision was … a premonition, or a fanciful thought or —’ She shrugged. ‘And then when I met you that same day, and you were so young, I just …’ She threw her hands up in conclusion.
‘I’m not that young.’ He smiled, rather delighted by her discomfort.
‘But that was before I found out that Zeven had been jumping timelines and what have you.’ Kassa’s frustration ebbed, and her amazed expression returned. ‘And now I see that maybe that vision was a memory, lost in those timelines somewhere.’
‘What memory?’ Leal grinned, seeing how uncomfortable the query made her. ‘What did you see?’
Kassa smiled, overwhelmed by the question, and shook her head. ‘You don’t need to know the details. Besides, circumstances alter when the timekeepers do their thing, we all know that.’
Leal took hold of both her hands, and hooked his feet around her legs to pull her towards him. ‘You’re right, I don’t need to know.’ He let her off the hook. ‘Let’s get married?’
Kassa was stunned, and not just by the question. ‘You knew what I saw. You saw it too?’ She slapped his chest, onto his game.
‘Have I not been beaten enough?’ he appealed, to quell her protest.
‘I’m sorry.’ She stroked his chest in comfort instead, and sniffled back her tears. ‘You were saying?’
‘The point is … all I could think about in that prison was you.’ He knew he’d made that painfully clear. ‘So answer the question.’
Kassa breathed deep to process his proposal more seriously. ‘But children —’
‘I don’t want children,’ Leal insisted. ‘Just you.’
‘Don’t you think we should at least go on a date first?’ Kassa proposed, and Leal tried not to appear put off by her reserve. ‘With half the crew still missing, right now is probably not the best time for a wedding.’ She clearly didn’t want to disappoint him, she was just being practical, as was her way. ‘However … some time alone together could be just what the doctor ordered.’ She grinned suggestively, which he found encouraging.
AWOL Page 36