Zero Recall

by Sara King

  Joe didn’t realize the Huouyt had come up behind him until he felt the sharp prick and the Huouyt’s firm grasp on his neck. His body stiffened.

  Jer’ait twisted Joe around to face him. The room was empty except for the two of them, the door locked. The Huouyt looked him up and down with a flat look, and Joe couldn’t tell if he were amused or bored. “If your goal was to show your groundmates you have the temper and mental capacities of a Dhasha turnling, Commander, I think you succeeded.”

  Joe closed his eyes, ignoring the Huouyt’s multi-colored stare. “There’s something you should know, Huouyt.”

  Jer’ait cocked his head. “What?”

  “It was a pain in the ass, but I immunized myself to jasanbic-4.”

  As Jer’ait’s odd violet eye flashed with surprise, Joe slammed his fist into the sensitive slit in the Huouyt’s face. As Jer’ait made a startled cry and crumpled, Joe pressed his boot over the sheath that housed the Huouyt’s zora and gave it a few warning lobes of pressure.

  The Huouyt reached toward his leg. “Put your arms down,” Joe said, leaning on his leg a bit more. “I’m feeling a little off-balance.”

  The Huouyt dropped his arms and stared up at him, malice burning in his violet eye.

  “That’s twice you’ve poisoned me since we met,” Joe replied. “I might be an uneducated grounder, but I know Huouyt like to poison creatures they don’t respect.” Joe leaned down so he could peer into Jer’ait’s eyes. “Are you saying you don’t respect me, Jer’ait?”

  “It was to calm you down,” Jer’ait muttered. “You were throwing a tantrum like a Dhasha turnling.”

  “I’m Prime,” Joe replied. “I’m allowed to do that. But, since you’re a low-life assassin and you’ve never had to be a boot who’s had to work up through the ranks, you wouldn’t know that. Therefore, this time I’ll only give you a warning. Next time it happens, I’ll educate you on what a Human does to reciprocate disrespect.”

  The Huouyt’s face twisted. “Very well.”

  Joe lifted his boot from the Huouyt’s face and stood back while he sat up. “Further, I think we have a problem.”

  Jer’ait gave him a dark look as he got back to his feet. “You realized you just threatened a Va’gan assassin with your heel?”

  Joe grinned and ignored the statement. “You haven’t told the rest of the team your real name.”

  Jer’ait paused in brushing himself off. “That’s a problem?”

  “I’m not calling you Be’shaar in the tunnels, and I’m sure as hell not explaining who ‘Jer’ait’ is. You’re lucky I’ve played along this long. Go fix it.”

  With a malevolent glare, the Va’gan started toward the door.

  “Daviin,” Joe said once the Huouyt had left, “You can come out now.”

  #

  Daviin waited through the meeting in the corner, listening to every word. He had moved to step in the moment the Huouyt paralyzed his ward, but had been pleasantly surprised when Joe had socked the conniving bastard in the face.

  I like him, Daviin thought, proud of his ward. He’s stupid as a melaa, but he’s got a tek.

  “Daviin, you can come out now.”

  Daviin lowered his energy level.

  “And what did you think about the way I handled the Huouyt?” Joe asked, clearly proud of himself.

  Daviin hesitated.

  “Tell me.”

  An order. Damn the Human! “I thought it was wise of you to immunize yourself, and impossibly stupid for you to tell him about it. You could’ve used it later.”

  Joe’s face clouded. “So I should’ve just let him keep poisoning me whenever he felt like it? No, I needed to make my point.”

  “But you gave up the advantage you earned by immunizing yourself.”

  Joe snorted. “He’s not going to try to kill me, Daviin.”

  “I think he is.”

  “Well, he’s not,” Joe retorted. “Besides, I can take care of myself. You saw how he couldn’t move after I pinned him.”

  Daviin winced, wondering how much to tell the Human. “The only reason he didn’t move was because he knew I was hovering over him ready to shove my tek through his face if he didn’t obey you.”

  The Human deflated. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Frowning, he said, “Were you?”

  “You can count on it.”

  “Damn it, Jreet! That was my fight!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Human,” Daviin laughed. “You’re not a match for him.”

  “We’re never gonna know unless you keep your pointy snout out of it!”

  “Oh, I know,” Daviin said, sobering. “He could have slapped a needle through the leg of your pants and you would’ve been down for the count.”

  “Not before I creamed his brain.”

  Daviin blinked at Joe. “His brain is located in his chest. You were simply straddling his zora. An inconvenience, if that.”

  His commander’s mood had become increasingly foul. “I’m not gonna get his respect if you keep babysitting me, Jreet.”

  “You’re not gonna get his respect anyway. He’s a Huouyt. Let me kill him, Human.”

  Joe frowned. “No.”

  “Please. He’s obviously—”

  “No.”

  Daviin wanted to argue, but the wall com unit began to beep.

  “No,” the Human repeated as he went to the intercom. Then, once he read the inscription across the bottom of the call, he sighed and said, “Yeah?”

  “Is that how you address a superior?” a Human voice demanded.

  “Must have slipped my mind, Mag. What do you want?”

  “I heard you kicked the Jreet off your team.”

  Joe sighed and dropped back onto the bed. “What about it?”

  “The Jreet goes down the tunnels with you, Zero,” the Human—female, if Daviin wasn’t mistaken—on the other end stated. “That’s an order.”

  “Sorry,” Joe replied, shrugging his bony shoulders, “Seems he took off. Wish I knew where he was. You know how I’d love to see you get that Corps Directorship you’ve always wanted. You’ve definitely earned it.”

  “Cut the crap, Joe. Scanner says he’s in your chamber right now.”

  “Really? Funny, I don’t see him.”

  “His energy level isn’t elevated.”

  Joe glanced at Daviin. “Oh yeah. There he is.” He shook his head. “Man. How could I miss that?”

  “You’ll let him back on the team or I’ll have your ass on a plate,” the female bit out.

  “Well, since you’ve tried to have my ass on a plate for the last fifty turns, Mag, this must be very exciting for you.” Joe cut the feed. “That’s just what I need. Maggie to get a Corps Directorship.”

  “The gods are not always just,” Daviin agreed.

  Joe glanced up at him. “No shit.” He sighed and went to his pile of gear and began to strip. “So. Your chip is working?”

  Daviin flinched at the question, but managed to avoid lying. “I hadn’t tested it.”

  “Well do so.” The Human took off his shirt and threw it aside, revealing a criss-crossed array of raised white lines. Daviin forgot himself and stared.

  The Human continued, oblivious. “We’ve got three hours ‘till takeoff and I want everyone synched up so tight their balls—” Joe paused at the look Daviin was giving him. “What?”

  “Those scars,” Daviin said when he found his breath. “Only a Takki—”

  Joe sat down on the lower half of his biosuit and activated it. Immediately, the two halves of the suit slid into place, hiding his butchered skin from sight with a smooth wave of glossy, rock-hard black that swallowed him from toe to head before sliding apart at the mouth and eyes to allow him to breathe.

  When Joe did not respond, merely continued preparing, Daviin could not help himself. “You didn’t get those in battle, did you?”

  “No,” Joe said.

  “An interrogation?”

  Joe laughed. “You think I’d be h
ere, were that the case?”

  “Dhasha, then?”

  “No,” Joe said. He eyed Daviin for a long moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

  But it did, to Daviin. His innards were screaming at him that no warrior could endure those kinds of scars. They were too perfect. Too...calculated. “What was it?”

  The Human sighed and threw his pack over a suit-encased shoulder. “Takki.”

  Daviin hesitated, his mind in turmoil. “You were captured by a Dhasha’s Takki?”

  “I became a Takki,” Joe muttered. “For a while, anyway.”

  Daviin reeled away from his ward, horrified. “You allowed yourself to be enslaved?”

  “I wasn’t really given a choice,” Joe growled, bristling.

  “There’s always a choice! There’s—” Daviin checked himself, though he couldn’t stop staring at his ward. He felt unclean, like he’d suddenly been doused in sewage. “You served a Dhasha?” He found it hard to think. The act was so completely dishonorable it left him struggling with disgust.

  Joe’s flat stare told Daviin he was on dangerous ground. “I did.”

  “You should have killed yourself,” Daviin roared, appalled. “Any true warrior wouldn’t—”

  “We can’t all be Jreet,” the Human snapped at him, looking irritated.

  “But no warrior would allow—”

  “That’s right,” Joe retorted, “I stopped being a warrior the moment they stripped off my biosuit and left me naked and bleeding amidst creatures that would happily eat me alive. My choice was to serve or die.”

  The stark horror of the Human’s statement made Daviin’s coils twist in shock. Softly, a horrified whisper, he said, “And you chose to serve.”

  The Human looked him directly in the eyes, utterly cold. “Are you regretting your oath already, Daviin?”

  My ward was a slave. The cold reality of that hit like a spear through Daviin’s chest. He had bound himself to a slave. There was no greater disgrace. The humiliation was enough to drag the beginnings of a war-cry from his chest.

  Hearing the rumbling, the Human softly said, “What is it, Jreet? Your Voran pride can’t stand the fact that you, pride and glory of the Voran princes, just bound yourself to someone who used to pick a Dhasha’s scales to survive?”

  Daviin looked away, ashamed that the Human saw his thoughts so clearly. “I...” His pride was screaming at him to kill himself, to kill Joe, to end the dishonor before Vora discovered his shame. Even a whisper of it would ruin his family name. The Welus would lunge at the chance to disgrace the Voran line by spreading the tale of his shame. What had he done?

  Daviin forced himself to unclench his fists and return his tek to its sheath. “I’m sure you had no alternative.”

  Joe gave a bitter laugh. “Sure I did. But I wanted to live.” Then, after giving him a long look, the Human made for the door. Though it was his duty to follow him, Daviin let him go, horror and self-loathing closing on his soul.

  His ward—his Commander—had been a slave.

  #

  Daviin was the first to the shuttle. Instead of following Joe to make last-tic arrangements with Supply, Daviin had gone directly to the transport. Daviin knew he should have stayed with him. His duty as his Sentinel required it.

  But he was unwilling to look at the Human, as half of him was still screaming for Joe to dance on his tek for misleading him. He had made his oath to a slave. That made him a slave’s servant. Most Jreet would have killed themselves as soon as they had found out. That Daviin hadn’t, yet, was an act of cowardice in the highest degree.

  An uncomfortable sticky feeling traveled down Daviin’s flesh as he considered that. He was a coward as well as Sentinel to a slave. The Welus would thrive upon it, using it as a war-cry in every battle for the next thousand turns.

  A Voran prince. Sentinel to a slave.

  Daviin fisted his hands and tried to put it out of his mind. No one knew, yet. The Human had told no one. Perhaps he could still get the Human to transfer his loyalties to some Representative in Koliinaat. Even the most honorless politician would be better than a slave.

  ...Wouldn’t it?

  His mind reeling, Daviin raised his scales’ energy level and wove his way through the maze of the shuttle staging area. He found the one his team was to take and slipped inside. Daviin slid into an inconspicuous corner and coiled himself as tightly as he could go. He felt his internal organs grind against each other, but endured the discomfort. All he could think about was the Human’s scars.

  Sentinel to a slave.

  He’d been brooding for over an hour before the door opened again. The Ooreiki stepped inside first, oblivious to Daviin’s presence. He could tell it was the Ooreiki just by the plodding sounds it made as it moved, but it was to Daviin’s benefit that none of the creatures on his groundteam could hear his echolocating pings.

  Galek sat down and began making last-tic adjustments to his equipment.

  The Baga came next, alighting on the seat across from the Ooreiki. The Grekkon followed, settling in a corner across from Daviin, facing him directly. Daviin had a brief fear that the Grekkon could smell him, but the creature’s blank stare never shifted. In time, Daviin relaxed.

  The Huouyt and the Human did not follow them.

  “Anyone care for dice?” the Baga asked. “Brought a set with me.” He shook the miniature dicing cup, rattling the ten-sided pieces inside. Daviin’s interest piqued and his heart rate increased despite himself—he loved a good game of dice. Then he remembered his predicament and his mood deteriorated again. He needed to kill something.

  The Ooreiki lifted his head. Tentatively, he said, “I’ll play.”

  “Good,” the Baga said. “What do you want to bet?”

  “I don’t want to bet anything,” Galek said.

  “You have to bet something, Ooreiki,” the Baga snapped. “That’s the fun of it.”

  “Let’s just do a practice-run first,” Galek said, sounding cowed. “I’m kind of rusty.”

  The Baga gave a huge, condescending sigh, and they began their contest, the sounds of their game growing more intense with each rattle of the dice. The Ooreiki was lucky. He won much more often than not. Still, Daviin only half-listened to their game. He grew more and more agitated as the Huouyt and the Human failed to appear.

  “You’re good at this,” the Baga finally said. “I thought I was good, but you’re whipping me like a lazy Takki.”

  A lazy Takki. Daviin coiled tighter, humiliation grinding at his soul. Sentinel to a slave. How could I do this?

  “I’m cheating,” the Ooreiki admitted.

  “Cheating?” There was a curious note to the Baga’s voice. “How? I had these dice rigged myself. I’m the only one who knows the probabilities at which they should fall.”

  “I can tell what fell in your cup before you see it.” If the Ooreiki was irritated with the Baga for trying to cheat him, his voice didn’t show it.

  “Oh?” The Baga sounded interested.

  “Spatial awareness,” Galek said. Daviin heard him pick up the cup. “Each side of the dice has a different feel when it’s in your cup because of the amount of the surface has been carved out with a symbol. I’m just reading it like I’d read a Dhasha’s den.”

  For a long moment, the Baga said nothing. Then, finally, “I’ll have to find some painted dice. Could you read those?”

  “No,” the Ooreiki said.

  “Good.” Then, after another moment of silence, the Baga said in sudden excitement, “You think you could do this in a professional setting? Say, a Jahul gambling den?”

  “I was blacklisted from all professional casinos as soon as Congress diagnosed me,” Galek said woefully. “They won’t even let me step inside the door.”

  “Damn,” Flea said. “You could’ve made a lot of money at that.”

  “Still could. Soldier’s halls can’t ban me. Wouldn’t feel right about it, though. I always pick cards so I have a fair chance of losing.”

&
nbsp; “Cards, huh? Only guys I know who like cards are Jreet. Now there’s somebody I’m looking forward to relieving his accounts of a few credits. I heard Jreet royals got more cash than Aliphei himself, and are dumber than dirt to boot.”

  “I don’t know,” Galek said, sounding nervous. Daviin pinged, and frowned when he realized the Ooreiki was turned in his direction. “There’s a reason they’re rich.”

  “Sure there is,” Flea went on. “They kill off all their brothers and sisters so they only get one inheritance. Jreet are built for strangling and stabbing things, not for using their heads. I could take twenty thousand credits from him in less than a night, easy.”

  “I heard they kill cheaters on Vora.” Galek definitely sounded nervous. Daviin heard him begin twisting his wriggling brown fingers together again.

  “Who said anything about cheating?” the Baga said, his tone growing dangerous. “I’m not stupid. Do you think I’m stupid, Ooreiki?”

  “No,” Galek said quickly. “I’m just saying maybe it’d be dangerous to play with a Jreet.”

  Flea scoffed. “He’d just hand over the money and never say a word to anybody. As long as you beat them fairly, you can take the scales right off their back and they’ll play you again next time you ask. Their honor won’t let them turn down a game. Makes for some pretty easy marks. I love playing with Jreet. Stupid oafs.”

  Daviin tightened his hands into fists and considered following the Human’s example. The Baga could use another attitude adjustment.

  The Ooreiki continued fidgeting nervously with his tentacles, the sound registering in Daviin’s mind like leather ropes twisting together. After a moment, the Ooreiki said, “Think we should go see what’s keeping them?”

  It took Daviin a moment to realize the Ooreiki was talking to him.

  Galek gently tried again. “What do you think? They’re gonna miss the shuttle.”

  “Who are you talking to?” the Baga asked.

  Daviin lowered his energy level, allowing the world of light and color to once more flood into being around him. The Ooreiki was looking right at him, and as soon as their eyes met, the Ooreiki lowered his gaze. “You’re in charge, after Joe and Jer’ait.”