Eye of the Tornado

by Kevin Domenic

  As Arus pressed the call button for the lift, his cold metal hand took hers. "I'm sorry, Kit," he said softly. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. There's so little information available about Elemental Morphers that it's hard to know what to expect. If we only had someone else from your society to speak to, maybe we could get some answers. Perhaps it is a symptom of all Morphers? Something that may go away in time? Maybe it'll become easier to control the more you use it?"

  Kitreena waited until they were alone inside the lift before she wiped unshed tears from her eyes. "I'm afraid to use it again. I don't want to. I've gotten by on my fighting abilities just fine over the years without Morphing." Her face was in her hands before she could stop herself. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry! She struggled to restrain her sobs, but they tumbled out like an avalanche, tears flowing like a river. "I'm afraid to do it! I don't want to hurt anyone!"

  Arus put his mechanical arm around her and pulled her closer. "You're going to be just fine," he said softly. His voice soothed her like a summer's breeze. "In the time I've known you, you have not come up against a single test that you have not been able to conquer. No matter how hard this is, I know you'll be able to beat it."

  "But you don't understand," she moaned, wiping her eyes again. "If I fail, I could wind up hurting someone I care about!" Even you.

  You won't fail, his voice echoed in her mind. I know you won't. I believe in you, and so does Damien.

  The stories of "growing pains" varied from race to race. Everyone matured differently, facing their own struggles and personal battles. But none that Kitreena could recall ever dealt with the danger of uncontrollably hurting loved ones. None faced the challenge of wielding a power beyond anything they'd ever imagined. No one could possibly understand the struggle she was going through.

  No one?

  She looked up at the sound of Arus' voice in her head. He was raising his mechanical arm in front of her, and pointing at the implant with his other hand. "I think I know a little about facing a challenge that no one else has ever had to overcome before," he chuckled. "And I'm not nearly as strong as you. If I can learn to deal with this thing, I know for sure that you can deal with your power."

  It was an effort to finally smile back at him, knowing she must look a fright. An embarrassed wipe of her nose later, and the smile came easier. "You're too kind to me, Arus. Why do you put up with me?"

  The warm grin on his face broadened. "Because you're worth it."

  Suddenly his lips were pressed against hers, sending chills of excitement along her spine. She awkwardly returned the kiss while simultaneously beating down the thousands of butterflies darting about in her stomach. No matter how many times she'd imagined it, no matter how much she'd tried to plan it, nothing she'd come up with even came close to the thrill of the real thing. His hands ran through her hair with the gentle touch of a kitten, fingers stroking her dark locks with unexpected tenderness. For a few brief seconds, the universe stood still, and no amount of troubles could reach Kitreena's heart. She was alive. She was happy.

  She was in love.

  They parted slowly, each clearly waiting for the other to speak first. Arus eyed her nervously, his smile taking on a bit of his uneasiness. After an agonizing moment, he broke the silence. "Are you all right?"

  Kitreena couldn't help but giggle as she nodded. "That was wonderful, Arus."

  His thoughts floated through her head. Then why do you look so nervous?

  Because it was my first kiss.

  His eyes bulged at that. "It was?" She only nodded in response, unconsciously nibbling her nails. "It was my first, too!" he said, taking her hands.

  This time it was her eyes that grew. "Really?" The weight of her nervousness lifted from her shoulders. "I kind of figured you had girls all over you back home. I can't imagine why you wouldn't!"

  "Well, there was this one girl that Vultrel kept trying to set me up with, but I never really—"

  Her communicator interrupted him with a loud beep. "Great timing," she muttered, lifting the device to her mouth. "Yes, what is it?" She tried her best to sound pleasant, but a bit of her frustration seeped through.

  Apparently, Damien had been more interested in Muert's allegiance than she'd thought. "Kitreena, have you talked to Muert yet?"

  "Not yet," she responded. "Arus needed to shower first. We're on our way down there now."

  "Make it quick," he said, nearly grumbling the words. "We may have more trouble on our hands. Kindel is headed for a planet that hasn't been integrated into the interstellar community yet. I don't know what he's up to, but after losing his allegedly magical stones, he can't be in a good mood. I fear he may do something irrational."

  "Understood." She shot a concerned look at Arus. "Have we been able to either prove or disprove his claims about those rocks?"

  "Not yet. I've put in requests to several different research facilities, but it may come down to simply testing the thing to find out if it works."

  Testing the lephadorite was not an option any of them wanted to exercise. Magic was no toy, and fooling around with the mechanics of such an awesome force could lead to disastrous results. Still, if Thorus' claims about the amulet and stones turned out to be true, then they would have to be destroyed, if possible. Then again, even destroying rocks imbued with magical properties could have disastrous results. What tangled webs we weave, Thorus. "All right," Kitreena said, "we'll meet you in the infirmary after we talk with Muert."

  "I'm on the bridge now, Kit. I can't afford to be bedridden at a time like this."

  If her eyes were wide before, now they nearly popped out of her skull. How dare he? After all these years of forcing her to fully recuperate from injuries before even picking up her whip, how dare he push himself back to work after his body had suffered so much damage? The words spewed from her mouth like a mother's frustrated temper. "You get back to the infirmary this instant, Damien! You are not healthy enough to be—"

  "We shall discuss it later, Kitreena," he cut her off. "There are more important things to attend to at the moment. Please, you can scold me all you want later."

  Arus put a comforting hand on her knee. "It's all right, Kit. He knows what he's doing. Trust him."

  Grinding her teeth, she growled into the communicator. "Fine. We're heading to the prison level now. But don't think I'm going to let you off the hook that easily."

  "Acknowledged. Damien out."

  Arus pressed the button for the prison level without saying a word, and the lift started to descend. It was a quiet ride for the most part, probably because Kitreena was too busy seething over Damien's hypocritical behavior, and Arus was clearly not looking to further the issue. It wasn't until the lift was well on its way to the prison level that he spoke again. "Have you considered returning to your homeworld to learn more about Morphers?"

  She nearly winced at the question. Couldn't he have chosen a more lighthearted topic for conversation? "I . . . can't return home. It's just not the right place for me." That answer would have to suffice.

  He looked at her sideways for a moment before shrugging. "Oh. Well, are there any other Morphers elsewhere in the universe that might be able to help you out?"

  The lift doors slid open as she shook her head. The corridors of the prison level were peppered with a good many more soldiers than would normally be assigned to guard the deck; the invasion of Vezulian troops had left the level in near shambles. "Not likely. My people don't really like to stray too far from Lavinia."

  "So you're all alone out here," he murmured. "I know how that feels."

  She furrowed her brow at that. "What do you mean? There are billions of humans throughout the universe. Your race ranks among the top percentages of the military and scientific fields. You're not alone."

  "True," he conceded, "but most of them grew up as a part of the interstellar community. Every human I've met so far has been acclimated to this technologically driven lifestyle for almost their entire lives. For them, this environment is the
only reality they've ever known. But for me, I still sometimes feel like I've stepped into a scene from a dream or something. Everyone else takes everything they have for granted without a second thought, whereas I'm still adjusting to the concepts of laser pistols and washrooms!"

  Kitreena giggled again. "I suppose I can see how you'd feel isolated in that regard. But I hope we've made the transition as easy as possible for you."

  "You have. I only wish Vultrel had opened himself up to the Alliance's hospitality." His head sank as he spoke, a distant look coming to his human eye. If not for Kitreena's excellent ears, she wouldn't have heard his whisper of "I just don't know what happened to him."

  She opened her mouth to console him just as they reached Muert's cell, and she thought better of it. Instead, she tried to work her telepathy. We'll talk about it later, all right? When we can be alone. He glanced at her momentarily before nodding.

  Muert was sitting on the floor in the back of his cell, head hung between his knees. His chest had been heavily bandaged, but otherwise he looked the same as always. He glanced up as the sound of their feet announced them, and Kitreena thought she saw a brief look of regret flash across his otherwise solid face. "I've done a bad thing, haven't I?" he finally asked. "I knew I shouldn't have listened to Nevin, but it was the only way I thought I'd ever see my darling Keilan and beautiful Sienna again. I thought Thorus a fool for underestimating me, but I was the fool. I have disgraced myself in many ways, and I submit to whatever punishment you have for me."

  Kitreena looked at Arus briefly before she spoke. When she did, she tried to keep her voice as calm and understanding as possible. "Who let you out of your cell, Muert?"

  His eyes widened ever so slightly—he likely expected her to start doling out his punishment—but he answered without question. "When the Vezulian soldiers boarded, they murdered the sentries you'd placed to keep both myself and Nevin from using magic. I don't think Thorus' men realized what your soldiers had been assigned to do, because they looked surprised when Nevin blasted the door of his cell opened. He killed the Vezulian squad, then grabbed the key from one of your fallen men and opened the door for me."

  Arus looked uncomfortable. Nervousness tainted his voice. "What happened to him?"

  "He is dead," Muert said levelly. "He planned to take control of your ship and ram it into Kindel's Black Eagle. I followed him foolishly, hoping that Kindel's downfall would open the way for me to reunite with my family. But when we came across a storage safe full of explosives, Nevin changed his mind, deciding he instead wanted destroy your ship and take a transport to the Falcon Mist. He said there were more than enough explosives there to do the trick, compete with detonation remotes. Rather than help him, I killed him, the reasons for which I do not wish to explain, for it will bring far greater shame upon me than I've already incurred."

  Arus crooked an eyebrow, but Kitreena understood. Muert respected Arus, that much was clear, and he didn't want to blow up the ship with him onboard. However, in doing what he thought would protect Arus, he sacrificed his opportunity to reunite with his wife and daughter. Muert, a Kyrosen, turned his back on his people to protect a friend. He gave up his family to do what he knew was right. "I understand," she said with a nod. "What you did was admirable and noble, Muert."

  But Arus still hadn't figured it out. "I don't get it," he said, looking at her. "Why did—"

  She gave him a look that told him to say no more. He did it to protect you.

  Sudden comprehension hit him like club to the face, and his expression brightened. Oh! I get it. He's ashamed because he turned his back on his people . . . and his family.

  Fumbling with the little silver keys Damien had given her, she twisted the lock open and pushed on the door. "Muert, there still may be a chance to rescue your loved ones, and we'd like to enlist your help, if you're willing."

  That certainly got a reaction out of him. The bulky man gaped as he rose to his feet, his mouth moving wordlessly as he tried to comprehend her request. "You will not . . . punish me?"

  "So long as you do not betray," she warned him. Arus immediately put a hand on her arm.

  "He won't," he said with a confident smile. "Muert knows the difference between right and wrong, a trait I'm willing to bet a lot of the Kyrosen share."

  "Perhaps," Muert said as he followed them from the cell, "but most lack the courage to stand up to Truce and Olock."

  "Do you?"

  "I will face down anyone for my beloved," he replied stiffly. "Even Sartan Truce, if necessary."

  Arus' smile nearly reached his ears. "Good. Come on, then. Damien wants to meet you."

  For Muert, the ride on the lift was nearly silent. But Kitreena was intent on learning how to properly manage her telepathic abilities. She took his hand and squeezed it, flashing him a smile. I wish I knew how to help you with Vultrel. I can't believe he's aligned himself with Thorus.

  Arus squeezed her hand in response. I know. I can't understand how he wound up siding with the enemy. I knew he was angry at me for what happened with Master Eaisan, but I never would've expected such a drastic change from him. I suppose different people react to adversity in different ways, though.

  Do you think there will be any reasoning with him? I mean, what if he raises his sword to you? What will you do?

  Arus snorted softly, bowing his head. Fight him. Best friend or not, if he tries to help Kindel capture me or the amulet, I'll have to defend myself.

  I thought you said you'd never defeated him before.

  I haven't.

  She didn't want to push the issue too far, as it had to be a sensitive subject for him. Surprisingly, it was Muert who unknowingly kept the discussion going.

  "Who was that boy who defended Thorus when I attacked the other day? He was a very talented fighter."

  Arus and Kitreena exchanged glances, and she nodded to him. It was his place to introduce Vultrel however he saw fit, whether it be as a misguided friend or just another enemy. Left to her, she likely would've described him with all the anger and bitterness she felt over his actions.

  But Arus was much more diplomatic. "His name is Vultrel, and apparently he has sided with the Vezulian Armada. We grew up together; in fact, we shared the same teacher. He is every bit the swordsman I am and more, determined and talented in the ways of the blade."

  "How did he end up turning his back on you?" Muert asked, drumming his fingers against his chin.

  Arus' stare once again grew distant. "I honestly don't know."

  The lift doors slid open, revealing the bridge of the Refuge. The crew was back in their positions—thankfully Damien's order for them to evacuate during the battle hadn't been compromised by Kindel Thorus—and the captain himself sat in the chair beside the diagnostic terminal. He moved to stand as they entered, though the flash of pain on his face did not go unnoticed. Dressed in the usual majestic garb of the Zo'rhan, one who hadn't seen his injuries first hand wouldn't have known how close to death he had been. But Kitreena had been there when they wrapped his torso in medicated bandages in the infirmary. And she knew full well that he still wore those bandages under his shirt.

  "Muert," he addressed, bowing his head. "Welcome to the bridge. I have a few questions, if you don't mind."

  Kitreena and Arus shifted to either side so that Muert could come forward. He dropped to one knee and lowered his head before he spoke. "You may ask whatever you wish. I do not deny the crimes I am charged with, and I am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions." Apparently, Kitreena's promise that he would not be punished hadn't been absorbed. Or maybe he simply wanted to reiterate for the captain of the Refuge that he was ready and willing to atone for what he'd done.

  While the Kyrosen's head was down, Damien shot a questioning look at her. She spread her hands and nodded, indicating that he was trustworthy. Damien acknowledged with an inclination of the head. "Please stand. I appreciate your intentions behind the gesture, but I do not like to place anyone above anyone else around her
e. The idea of superiors inherently classifies those below them as inferior, and that's an attitude I do not embrace." Muert stood with murmured apologies which Damien waved away. "What was your mission at Cathymel?"

  Muert answered promptly, though he kept his voice calm and courteous. "Our mission at Cathymel was to overthrow King Sarathon and claim the throne of Asteria for Sartan Truce."

  Damien returned to his chair, acting as though the questions were more a matter of procedure than necessity. "What role did you play?"

  "I was assigned to a large group of men who were to guard the path to Castle Asteria in the case that the tower bell was sounded to summon Royal Guard troops. It was our duty to keep reinforcements from reaching the castle."

  "During our run-in with the Vezulian Armada, you made your presence felt on the bridge here in an impressive display of power. Why?"

  "I had overheard crew conversations stating that Kindel Thorus was on the bridge. I had hoped that I'd somehow be able to convince him to return my family to me."

  Damien leaned forward, his eyes focusing intently on the big man. "Do you agree with Sartan Truce's vision for the Kyrosen?"

  Muert sighed heavily, his chest heaving. "You must understand, such an admission is equivalent to treason amongst my people. Regardless of how I feel, the whole of the Kyrosen must be preserved."

  "Around here," Damien replied in a low voice, "we value everyone's input. Every being in the universe has the right to his or her own opinions, and you must never fear to speak yours when you are with us."

  The Kyrosen's jaw was set as stone, but he eventually nodded. "I do not agree with Sartan Truce."

  A slight upward curving of the corners of his lips momentarily gave away Damien's satisfaction. "Why not?"

  "Because he, like Kindel Thorus, treats the lives of his people as nothing more than tools. A means to an end. If he had not caught poor Arus here, I don't doubt that he would've eventually resorted to using one of our own children to test the implant. The thought of my precious Sienna being used as a scientific lab rat boils my blood. The trouble is that living in that kind of fear is exactly what keeps our people in line. They assume that if they perform well enough, they will be spared. But Truce will use anyone for any purpose if it furthers his goals. It is not a very peaceful life we lead."