Beyond Varallan

by S. L. Viehl

  “Don’t lie to me! You’ve got so much in your bloodstream it’s starting to penetrate your gastric lining!” I said. “No wonder you’ve been so out of control! That stuff will . . . that will . . .” I halted at the obvious confusion he displayed. “You really didn’t eat any?”

  He shook his head.

  I ran the scanner a third time. Found nothing in his stomach, except for traces of jaspkerry tea and the high levels of the warrior’s herb.

  “What does this stuff taste like? Jaspkerry spice?” He nodded. I ran the scanner over myself, then put it down. “Well, that explains a lot.”

  “What say you?”

  “I’ll tell you later.” After I administered a mild tranquilizer to Xonea to counter the effects of the jaspforran, I signaled Hado. The navigator responded from his duty station.

  “Hado? Weren’t you going to stay with Darea?”

  “I was, Senior Healer, until I was signaled to return at once to Command Level.” He made a slightly frustrated gesture. “In error, as it happens. I will return to her quarters now.”

  “Don’t bother, she’s not there.” The next person I tried was Ktarka. The educator appeared to have just stepped out of her cleansing unit.

  She smiled at the screen. “Yes, Senior Healer?”

  “Is Darea there with you?”

  “No, she is not. After I heard the news about Fasala, I signaled her. She wished to be alone, she said.” The Jorenian woman frowned as she tugged her towel higher. “Has the child been found?”

  “No, and now Darea is missing.” I tried to smile reassuringly. “Sorry, Educator. It’s a long story. I’ll get back to you when I find her.”

  “Signal me if you need my assistance.”

  Squilyp had been listening and now waited for me as I walked from the display. “You’re going to look for Darea?”

  “Yes. Something isn’t right about all this. Why would two members of a ClanFamily disappear, and the third receive serious injuries, all on the same day?”

  “Unfortunate coincidence?” the Omorr said.

  “Or they all have a connection to the killer.”

  I went directly to Salo and Darea’s quarters, to see if Fasala or her ClanMother had returned there. The rooms were silent.

  I went into Fasala’s room, and even checked under the sleeping platform. Nothing but a rather dusty plasball under there. I opened the storage containers, and even the compartment where the child had carefully put her clean garments. Aside from the usual contents, they were empty.

  When I returned to the living area, I smelled a trace of something odd. Cleanser? I stepped past the sofa, and heard a faint squishing sound. Beneath my footgear, the loose, fluffy weave of the area rug was damp. I bent down and sniffed at it. The odor was much stronger. Had Darea spilled some tea? The wet area disappeared beneath the bottom edge of the sofa, so I pushed it back to see what was under it.

  There were several green splotches on the rug beneath the sofa. My fingers gingerly touched one of them.

  Jorenian blood. Wet. Fresh.

  I got to my feet and ran into the larger bedroom, calling Darea’s name. I pulled the room apart, opening everything large enough to contain her body. The cleansing unit was empty. Nothing under the bed. I sagged against it for a moment, resting my cheek on the soft coverlet. When I opened my eyes, I saw what had happened to Darea.

  I contacted Barrea in Engineering first, then sent a coded signal to the ship’s linguist. It took a moment to receive his reply.

  “It will work, but why do you wish to do this, Senior Healer?” Barrea asked over our secured channel.

  “I know who the killer is.”

  An hour later I sent out five more signals. Within minutes, Hado, Adaola, Xonea, Ktarka, and Reever showed up at Darea’s door panel. They looked at each other, then at me. Adaola appeared nervous. Hado and Ktarka seemed bewildered. Reever’s expression never changed. Xonea glared at me.

  “Come in, please.” I gestured to the empty room behind me. “I need to speak to all of you.”

  Xonea folded his arms. “Senior Healer, I have no time—”

  “Shut up and sit down, Captain.” I set out servers of tea and sat down in the chair I’d set a foot back from the rest of the furnishings. “Try the tea. It’s real jaspkerry,” I told Xonea. “I programmed it myself.”

  “Senior Healer, have you word of Darea or Fasala?” Ktarka asked.

  “Not exactly. I came here looking for Darea, and found some blood on the floor.” I pointed. “Right there where Adaola is sitting.”

  The Jorenian nurse lifted her footgear at once.

  “Don’t worry. It’s under the sofa. When I found the blood, I scanned it. The DNA matches Darea’s perfectly. Is she dead?” I looked at each intent face. Not a flicker of reaction. “Well, I suppose if I was a cold-blooded killer, I’d hardly volunteer the information.”

  That icy formality the Jorenians were capable of settled over my little group. They became big blue statues. Reever stood to one side, silently watching me.

  Hado’s gentle eyes narrowed. “You believe one of us diverted Darea’s path?”

  “Cherijo, this is not amusing,” Xonea said. “If you have information about the murders, tell me now.”

  “I’m getting to that part. Hado, let me ask you a question: What’s the first thing you do after you invent a weapon?” The navigator appeared confused. “You test it. In a remote place, like the storage compartment on level fourteen. On a live subject, like Fasala Torin.”

  “No one could want to deliberately hurt an innocent child,” Ktarka said in protest.

  “The killer had a reason for using Fasala as a test subject.” I smiled at her. “But I’ll get to that later, too.”

  “What weapon do you speak of, Healer?” Hado asked me.

  “The killer created a resonant harmonicutter here on board the Sunlace.”

  “No level on this ship is large enough to contain a harmonicutter!”

  I smiled. “You’re right, Hado, you can’t fit a harmonicutter on the ship. But you can use the ship’s buffer to store energy, and act like a harmonicutter.”

  “That kind of technology doesn’t exist!”

  “It does now. I’m no engineer, so I checked with someone who is. A smaller device would have to be placed on the buffer to release the power in a focused sonic beam. Once the victim was located and targeted, a remote unit could be used to trigger the beam.”

  “Then why wasn’t Fasala killed?” Adaola asked.

  “What the killer couldn’t predict was that Fasala’s educators would come looking for her. My theory is that the killer tried to protect the two adult women and reversed the power flow. The sudden stress from the backlash made the buffer shatter.”

  I sipped my tea as I let that sink in, then continued.

  “Before the killer could try again, Roelm Torin noticed the engine surge. Did you know Roelm was one of the Sunlace’s original designers? He knew those engines better than anyone. He must have figured out what the killer was doing. He was on his way to Engineering when he was murdered.”

  “How did you discover these facts, Senior Healer?” Hado asked.

  “I have proof, but for now I’ll save that, too. Let’s talk about motive.” I turned to the Captain. “Xonea, you aren’t going to win any awards for self-control. And when Reever accessed my subconscious, I saw you as the killer.”

  “I have wronged you in the past,” he said, the words forced and stiff. “Yet the only injuries I have inflicted have been upon you.”

  “I know,” I acknowledged. “But that wasn’t your fault. Someone removed the jaspkerry stores from the prep units in both our quarters and the galley, and replaced it with pure jaspforran.”

  “What?” He clenched his fists and struggled for control.

  “By the Mother, that explains the ungovernable rage I have been enduring.”

  “From the way that stuff affects the Jorenian central nervous system, I’m surprised you h
aven’t punched a hole through the hull,” I said. “I also found micro-encapsulated artificial enzymes had been added to my Terran tea and all the Terran stores in the galley. They stimulated my sympathoadrenal response and made me, shall we say, slightly more aggressive than usual? The few times I had Xonea’s tea only made it worse.”

  “Who has done this?” Xonea wanted to know.

  “I’m getting to that.” I turned to the senior nurse. “Adaola, you were on duty when Roelm and Yetlo died in Medical. Off duty when Ndo was murdered. Plus you were in the launch bay when the mercenary was killed. You had access to all the victims.”

  Adaola paled, but said nothing.

  “I could see you killing Ndo because he might threaten Xonea’s succession in some way. Or Yetlo, because you disagreed with my decision to stop him from committing suicide. But why Roelm? Why the mercenary? They presented no threat or connection to Xonea. And why would you poison your own ClanBrother if you were trying to protect him?”

  Adaola shuddered. “I could never do such things.”

  I gave her a smile. “I know it wasn’t you, Adaola. A killer doesn’t spend double shifts watching a sick kid if she wanted her dead, or smash a desk because she believes she may have accidentally killed a patient. Nor does she try to destroy the mind of a much-loved sibling.”

  “I can imagine why I am here,” Hado said. “I was a patient in Medical when Roelm’s path was diverted, and like Adaola, present when the mercenary was killed.”

  “Whoever did this had an unusual mark over their heart—something you certainly have, Hado.” I watched him press one hand to the location of the surgical scars on his chest. “Plus you discovered Ndo’s body. You could have taken his data pad and planted it in my quarters.” I shook my head. “The problem is you were still recovering from cardiac surgery when Fasala and the educators were attacked.”

  Xonea turned toward Reever. “And the ship’s linguist?”

  “I don’t know where he was during the other murders, but he was there when the mercenary died,” I said. “It’s also true Reever’s never been happy about you Choosing me, Xonea, or me going along with it. I might have suspected him, had I not been linked with him when the killer tried to alter my brain wave patterns.” I decided not to bring up the time when I’d offered myself to Reever, and he’d turned me down. “It wasn’t him.”

  Reever’s and Xonea’s eyes met mine, then Adaola’s, then Hado’s. We all turned to the only person in the room who had not touched her tea.

  “That leaves me,” Ktarka said. She was very calm.

  “Yes.” So was I. “It does.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Game Over

  “I have heard no evidence that would indicate my involvement.”

  It was interesting, the way Ktarka said that. If someone accused me of murder, I’d be screaming my head off. Protesting my innocence. Telling everyone to stop wasting time and go after the real killer. I might even throw things. I didn’t see myself being really concerned with the evidence.

  “After Fasala was injured, you came up to me in the galley and introduced yourself. Why?”

  “I merely wished to acknowledge your work with our children,” Ktarka said.

  “Or was it that you’d just tested your weapon and nearly killed two of your colleagues? Did you decide then you needed someone to take the blame? Who would be ideal? A Terran outsider who had already killed one Torin, maybe?”

  She took a sip of tea. “Your theory proves nothing.”

  “Later, while you were in Medical gloating over Fasala’s injuries—or trying to make another attempt on her life, I don’t know which—you must have overheard Roelm making a fuss about the engines. After he questioned the little girl, you followed him. Did you kill him to protect your secret?”

  “Another groundless speculation.”

  She sure was hung up on validation. I guess that was the usual mind-set of a murderer. How can I kill and get away with it? Make sure there’s no damn proof.

  “After Roelm died, I had a dream. A dream that began as part of a very calculated campaign to set me up for the murders. But you got a little sidetracked, didn’t you?”

  Hado made an ugly sound. Xonea’s fists bulged. I motioned for both of them to stay calm.

  “The next victim was Leo, the League mercenary. You killed him for obvious reasons—he nearly beat you to death.” I looked at my Jorenian nurse. “Adaola, did you see Leo abduct Ktarka from Medical that day?”

  “No,” the nurse said. “I noticed his berth was empty and went out into the corridor. From there I followed the marks of blood on the deck.”

  “Didn’t you find any blood in the isolation room?”

  “No,” Adaola said.

  I turned to the educator. “You offered to help him, didn’t you? That’s why you released him and smuggled him out of Medical. But Leo waited until you got out in the corridor before he turned on you. Why did you let him go? Did you want to watch him rape me, or help him do it?”

  The Educator made a curt gesture.

  “Reever? Would you mind getting the two items I left on Darea’s sleeping platform for me?” Reever disappeared, then re-emerged carrying two wrapped objects: one large and bulky, one small and flat. “Put them on the table for me, will you?” I picked up the small one first and unfolded it. “Do you remember this, Educator?”

  She gazed at the pendant, then at the place on my vocollar where it used to be attached. “Yes.”

  “What a gift it was, too. I found out ten minutes before you five got here that this isn’t a mere bauble. A scanner picked up some very tiny, very interesting tech imbedded in the stone.” I held it up for everyone to see. “The stone itself is a genuine Jorenian antique. Centuries ago, it was used to signify a Choice had been made.”

  My nurse frowned, bewildered. “Jorenians do not Choose members of the same gender. They cannot produce offspring together.”

  “Someone who could never bond because she’d botched her first Choice wouldn’t be worried about having kids.” I leaned forward and wrapped the pendant again. “In my second dream, the killer told me we shared our aloneness. When I resisted the sexual overtures, I was beaten.” I placed the pendant back on the table. “Then Xonea Chose me. How did it feel, Ktarka, finding out you’d screwed up again?”

  “I did not Choose you,” she said. Her voice was low and furious. “I am Chosen; you are female. I cannot Choose you.”

  “No, you couldn’t. Xonea already had. You decided to play more games. You’d already poisoned everything I ate or drank with enough artificial enzymes to keep me hostile. So you switched the jaspkerry tea stores and assured Xonea would be in a near-constant state of rage, too. You killed Yetlo after I’d given him a reason to live. I didn’t understand why Ndo had to die, at first. Until I found out where on Joren the resonant harmonicutters are used to fit buffers to space-going vessels.”

  “The Talot province shipyards,” Xonea murmured.

  “I checked the com logs. Just before he died, Ndo signaled you. He’d discovered you once worked in your HouseClan’s main business. Outfitting ships for deep-space exploration. You and your immediate family are expert engineers. Highly skilled in the use of harmonicutters.”

  Ktarka’s hand knotted in her lap. “That has nothing to do with these path diversions!”

  “When you were burned, you clutched your tunic over your breasts. When I signaled you today, you covered your upper torso. Why?”

  “I have no—”

  “I checked your medical records, Ktarka. Stabbing yourself in the chest leaves a big, ugly scar. But you don’t think of your botched suicide attempt as a failure, do you? It was the day you were reborn. That’s why it looked like a birthmark to me when you pretended to be Xonea in my dream.”

  “Stop this!” Ktarka’s beautiful face contorted with rage.

  “You planted Ndo’s data pad to frame me, and used a beacon to signal the mercenaries. If Pnor was still alive, he would tell
me it was you who suggested I was the killer to him—several times. You also reported to him when Xonea had stormed the Medical Bay while Reever and I were linking.” I glanced at Reever. “Roelm tried to tell us the killer was ‘one who is not one of us.’ The only thing that sets Ktarka apart from everyone else is the fact she was born to HouseClan Zamlon.”

  Xonea rose to his feet. “Why harm Fasala? Why attack Salo?”

  “It’s simple.” I stared at the seething Educator. “Salo is Konal’s ClanBrother. His only ClanSibling.”

  Ktarka’s entire body tensed. Time for the big finale.

  “That’s why you joined the crew,” I said to her. “You needed the Sunlace. Time to design and build the weapon. Long before your little infatuation with me, you knew exactly who you were going to kill. Salo and his family. Your revenge against Konal.”

  “No!” she shouted, tearing at her tunic, baring her breast and the twisted scar bisecting it. “Not revenge! Justice! Konal shamed me! Took my family from me!” Ktarka flung her hand out toward Xonea, Hado, and Adaola. “Cursed be HouseClan Torin!”

  Someone had to say something. Might as well be me. “Game over,” I said. “You lost. Where’s Darea and Fasala?”

  She drew back. “You dare question me?”

  “I’m going to dare to do a lot more,” I said, and got to my feet, “unless you tell me what you did with Salo’s family. Right now.”

  “You will never find them.” Ktarka reached up and took her pendant in her hand. “Nor will you escape my revenge!”

  Behind my back, I gave Reever a thumb’s up. He turned and nodded slightly toward Fasala’s bedroom.

  “End this, Ktarka,” Adaola said.

  “No.” The educator’s fist tightened around her pendant. I felt the air beginning to change within the living area. At the same time, Dhreen silently appeared behind the Educator. “I will show you the true inner path.”

  “Everybody down!” I yelled, jumped across the table, and slammed into Ktarka. The combination of the Jorenian woman’s weight and my momentum knocked us to the deck. I rolled, snatching the pendant from her loosened grasp and snapping it from her vocollar. It glowed red-hot against my skin.