fortuneswheel

by Lisanne Norman

They were hauled before Sub-Commander Kolem, who didn’t take kindly to the incident. After a blistering dressing-down to Sholans and Terrans alike— relayed to the latter group by the senior telepath translator on duty— they were dismissed. The Terrans, in the custody of two security guards, were escorted to their quarters to remain there until the following day. Garras and Kusac remained behind.

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” demanded Sub-Commander Kolem. “You were the ones who contacted these people first, the ones who gave them an impression— Vartra help us!— of all Sholans! You lived with them, fought for them, made a trade agreement with them,” his eyes pinned Garras at this, “started peace negotiations with them, and now you engage them in a barroom brawl!”

  Garras flinched from the glare, ears lowering.

  Kolem got to his feet and began pacing, tail flicking from side to side in barely suppressed fury. “Never in all my years in the Forces have I had to discipline a ship’s Captain or a telepath for brawling. What in hell am I supposed to do with you?” he demanded of Kusac.

  Silence.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  Kusac nodded, eyes beginning to glaze noticeably.

  Kolem grunted and began pacing again. “We’ve barely begun negotiations with Hamilton, and your Link to his daughter has weakened our position. He isn’t yet aware of the implications of that bond, but he’s damned suspicious and displeased about it. Your actions today could have jeopardized the treaty before it’s even been drafted!” He stopped in front of Kusac again. “With your background, there is no excuse for this kind of behavior. Of all people, I should have been able to rely on you to keep the peace!”

  Angrily, he returned to his desk. “Garras, brawling like a junior officer is not what I expect from a Captain of your seniority, even if you have been drafted in from the Merchants. Your leave is canceled. You’ll return to duty on your next scheduled shift. Till then you’re confined to your quarters,” he snapped.

  “Sub-Commander,” interrupted Adjutant Myak, moving forward to catch Kusac as he began to sway. “His Leska is in severe distress. She’s broadcasting on a wide band, every telepath will be picking her up. Look at him,” he said as Kusac gratefully leaned against him. “He’s taking little of this in because of her mental state.”

  Kolem made an exasperated noise. “Get him out of here! See he joins her. And fetch the medic, the one who was with them on Keiss. I want that Terran female calmed down now before the Telepath Guild starts its complaints! Kusac’s confined to quarters until further notice.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Myak, assisting Kusac through to the outer office. “I’ll see to it personally.”

  When Garras left, Kolem turned to Draz, head of Security. “What was the fracas about?”

  “Species prejudice from two of the Terrans, sir. Specifically comments relating to the nature of the relationship between our crewman and the human female.”

  “Who was responsible for the Terrans’ orientation program? They should have picked up those sort of attitudes then and dealt with them so that this sort of situation couldn’t occur!”

  “Apparently it hasn’t taken place yet, sir. It’s scheduled for the sixth hour tomorrow. Unfortunately, I was not informed of this, or I would have ordered that the Terrans be confined to their quarters till then.”

  “Find out who’s responsible. I’ll nail their hides to the wall,” growled Kolem, flinging himself into his seat. “Right now the fate of this sector of space hangs in the balance. We must secure this treaty, or the Alliance remains vulnerable to further Valtegan attacks. If anything happens to Kusac or his Leska, we could have more trouble than you or I could imagine, both from Shola and from Keiss, and we’re stuck right in the middle of it.”

  He shook his head. “A telepath with an alien Leska, a telepath who now initiates fights! The Commander is just going to love this.” He sighed. “You’d better prepare a report for Commander Raguul as soon as possible. See that someone from your department escorts Kusac and his Leska to meals until we’ve transferred them to Leska quarters. At least he has her company.”

  “Apparently not, sir. My people tell me that she’s staying with the Leska pair, Rhian and Askad.”

  Kolem lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “I presume the guild is aware of this?”

  “Yes, sir. They have their own people watching them.”

  “Poor devils. They can’t make a move without someone seeing it. Well, I suppose it’s the price they have to pay for their Link.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Draz dubiously.

  “Contact the guild anyway, Draz. I want them to find out why I suddenly have a territorial male telepath on my crew. Commander Raguul will shortly be asking me the same question, and I want to have an answer for him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  *

  Vanna was leaving as Kusac arrived with Myak. “I was coming to look for you,” she said to him. “I’ll take care of him, Lieutenant, if you have no objections?”

  “Certainly, Physician Kijishi,” said Myak, disentangling himself from Kusac’s arm and letting her take his weight.

  Vanna raised an eye ridge at the Lieutenant, ears swiveling toward him as she wrapped an arm round Kusac’s waist.

  “Commander Raguul would like to see you as soon as is convenient,” Myak said quietly to her before he left.

  When he’d gone, Kusac pulled himself upright, leaning against the door frame. “Promotion?” he asked tiredly.

  “And how,” said Vanna. “I wonder what the cost is. That sort of promotion doesn’t come cheap. Never mind that. I’ve given Carrie a suppressant. It should take full effect in about fifteen or so minutes. Can you cope for now, or do you need one, too?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll manage,” he said. “It’s only making me lightheaded now. The nausea’s stopped.” He started to move slowly toward the doors at the far end of the room. “Which room is she in?”

  “On the right. I’ll wait for you,” she said, her professional eye picking up the tinge of white that meant his nictitating lids were showing at the edges of his eyes.

  So great was the turmoil in her mind that Carrie remained unaware of his presence until he sat down on the bed beside her.

  As she turned round, he took her hands in his.

  It’s all right. I’m here and safe, and so are you, he sent.

  “I’ve had enough, Kusac,” she said. “I can’t take any more of this reaction to us. When we’re alone like this, it’s fine, we’re all that matters. With others around…” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Your people are all right. It’s mine that are the problem.” A tear ran down her cheek.

  “Don’t cry, cub,” he said, tilting her chin to wipe the tear away. “The Terrans won’t be on board for long. I’ll make sure we stay away from them if you prefer.” His hand moved to the back of her neck, gently soothing the tight muscles, thinking relaxation into her body. He could feel the drug beginning to work as her thoughts became gradually weaker.

  “Can’t you see that it shouldn’t have to be like this?” she said. “Why can’t they accept that we have a loving friendship and just leave us alone?”

  There was an edge of hysteria to her voice that troubled him.

  “A little more than a friendship,” he murmured, as his eyes were unconsciously drawn to her throat. Long and slender, it was a neck that many a Sholan female would kill for. He caught himself and looked back to her face.

  Another tear, quickly followed by a third, was falling.

  “They won’t let us have anything, Kusac,” she said. “All we really have is this damned link. I wish it had never happened!”

  “This isn’t like you, cub,” he said, encircling her in his arms and drawing her close. “I know you don’t really mean that. We have the Link, yes, but we also have each other.” He nuzzled her chin upward, this time licking her tears away.

  He felt her stiffen slightly; then, as he continued to lick her cheek, she relaxed.
Her hands came up to rest on his arms and her fingertips began to push through the thick pile of his fur seeking the skin beneath.

  He kissed her, letting his feelings for her come to the surface of his mind, slowly at first, waiting till she accepted them. This time, for a wonder, she did and he felt her mind begin to quiet and respond to him.

  He let his hand stray across her arm, then down her back to her thigh, enjoying the clean muscular feel of her limbs. Differences between their species there were, but she possessed many of the qualities Sholan males looked for in their women.

  The compulsion born of their Link had built so gradually in him this time that only now did he realize it was there. He felt it echoed in her as hesitantly her fingers searched for the seal on his jacket. His hand guided her as she opened it, then as she laid her head against his chest, he began to untie the sash around her tunic.

  Cautiously, he slid his hand across the bare skin of her back. Perhaps finally they could resolve the physical side of their Link.

  She froze, her mind losing its softness and becoming brittle again as she pulled back from him, a look of panic on her face.

  Kusac released her instantly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “This isn’t us, Kusac, it’s the damned link,” she said, a catch in her voice as she continued to back away from him. “I won’t be driven by this compulsion!”

  “You’ve got it confused, cub,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm. “The compulsion only enhances what we feel for each other. If our emotions weren’t involved, there would be no worrying over whether what we feel is us or the Link. Pairing is only the mechanism that brings Leskas close enough so they can work as a bonded team. It’s part of their working relationship. You’re worrying over something that is too small to matter.”

  “It’s important to me,” she said, fetching up against the wall at the head of the bed. “I’ve lived too long with other people’s illusions of what I am and what I should be. I want to know what’s real for me.”

  She pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms protectively round them. “My head is full of memories that aren’t mine, Kusac. They’re yours, yet they feel as real to me as if I’d lived them. Maybe it’s easier for you with your training, but that coupled with being always aware of what you’re thinking and doing means I’m losing myself and becoming only ‘us,’ and it frightens me!”

  “That’s because the Link is still incomplete, Carrie,” he said. “We need to pair to make it complete, and then it will be easier, I promise.”

  “How can you know?” she demanded. “You’ve never had a Leska before.”

  “I checked it out in the guild’s files,” he said.

  “Theory! What do they know about us or our link? I’m an alien, or hadn’t you noticed?” she said caustically.

  “I’d noticed,” he said, suppressing his anger. “Were you Sholan, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. There are no guarantees, Carrie, you know that. I can only tell you what is known about Leska Links.”

  He sighed and got to his feet. “This is getting us nowhere. We can’t go on like this, Leska. I can’t cope with any more of this, it’s too painful for both of us. You know what I feel for you and you know what I have to offer. If you want me, you come. You’ve got four days in which to decide; I can’t give you any longer. If your answer is no, then somehow I’ll find a way to break the Link. It should be possible since, as you reminded me, you’re an alien, not a Sholan.”

  Stopping at the door to fasten his jacket, he turned back to her. “You aren’t a youngling, Carrie. You’re a grown female among your own kind. Find out what your heart wants, what is really important to you, not what your intellect says should be. Just see you don’t leave it too long, or I may not be there for you when you finally make your decision.”

  As he closed the door behind him, Vanna looked up.

  “Where’re Rhian and Askad?” he asked.

  “In the other room, keeping out of the way of Carrie’s broadcast. How is she? Even with the slight differences in her system the drug should have taken effect by now.”

  “The drug’s working. I can feel her presence in my mind, but that’s all. She’s emotionally overwrought at the moment, Vanna. I think it best she remains here tonight. Rhian has agreed,” he said, making his way across the room toward her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked sharply, getting to her feet as she saw the set of his ears.

  “Nothing. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  “I don’t believe that for a moment,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You’ve got a nasty bruise coming there. Let me see to it.”

  He pulled away from her, going to the door. “I’m fine. Look, I’ve got to go. I’m confined to quarters because of the fight.” He touched the door sensor, waiting for it to open. “I’ll see you later.”

  “I’m finished here,” she said, following him. “Don’t forget that appointment at the medical section tomorrow afternoon.”

  *

  Carrie sat looking bleakly at the door. Well, she’d gotten what she’d asked for. Her mind was quiet, just an awareness of a faint pressure that was Kusac, none of his thoughts. He’d given her the time and space that she’d asked for.

  She sat there, going over in her mind what he’d said about the link. Unbidden, memories of time spent studying and practicing linking in to medics, to Chemerians and Touibans all came flooding in, demanding to be sorted and relearned by her. Whatever she chose, there would always be Kusac’s memories. Her headache began to return as, panicking, she fought to control them, to push them down to a level where they wouldn’t intrude on her consciousness.

  “… the Link is still incomplete.” She heard the echo of his voice as finally she succeeded, knowing it was only a temporary victory. Instinctively, she reached for him but met only solitude and the pain flaring behind her eyes.

  Chapter 2

  Brother Dzaka had taken the seat reserved for him in the front row. Rhuso, one of the Telepath Guild tutors, had requested that he attend this unofficial gathering of those who’d lost clansfolk on the colony worlds of Khyaal and Szurtha. Already the meeting had given him cause for disquiet. Despite the counseling that had been given to all the relatives of those who had died, this small group of about twenty people had still not come to terms with their loss. The nuances of feelings he was experiencing from some of those gathered in the room were causing him concern.

  Traditionally, only telepaths could become priests, but few telepaths entered the priesthood and those who did, didn’t want to serve in the Forces. Consequently, the religious needs of the ships were often met by lay brothers like himself. A member of the Brotherhood of Vartra, Sub-Guild of the Warrior’s, his position on the ship not to mention in society, was as ambiguous as the God Vartra Himself. Patron of both the Warrior and the Telepath Guilds, Vartra represented the ability of the warrior to fight for peace, then, like the telepaths, lay aside his weapons as one unable to fight. Theologians had argued for centuries as to whether the God was depicted laying his weapons down, or had halted in the act of picking them up. Dzaka had never been able to decide.

  Unbidden, the God’s image came to his mind’s eye as powerfully as if he stood before the massive carved statue in the Brotherhood’s temple.

  Gentle laughter echoed in his mind. He knew it well, and the voice that spoke to him.

  Well, Dzakayini— little-one-brought-in-from-the-cold! Here you are again. You’ll find no answer in staring at my image: look within yourself, that is where your harmony lies!

  The laughter and the image faded, leaving him sitting there shaking because of the rebuke. It was no God-Vision and he knew it, but just the same… Lieutenant Nuada was trying to field questions from several angry individuals.

  “I want to know why we haven’t been given any real details concerning what happened,” a young trooper was saying. “It’s the inalienable right of surviving Clan members to be allowed to bury their relatives. We�
�ve been denied that right and given no concrete reasons for it! There might even be survivors!”

  “There were no survivors, and you’ve been told that it would be impossible to identify the dead,” said Nuada. “The devastation was global. There was no warning. People died where they were— in the streets, in their homes, at work.”

  “If they died in their homes, then all I need to do is go to my Clan’s land. I’m not asking a lot, only that I be allowed to at least visit my home and bury my dead.”

  Dzaka looked at the trooper. Still a youngling, barely into adulthood. Tears of frustration and loss were trickling down the sides of his nose.

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible,” began the Lieutenant. Dzaka stood up and turned round to face the room of angry and grieving Sholans.

  “You feel angry and cheated because you haven’t been given enough information, do you? You can’t believe that your Clans are gone, your loved ones dead? ‘But they were there yesterday,’ I hear you say. ‘How can they be gone?’ ” He stopped, aware that his own voice was rising in anger, an anger that should not be directed at his own people.

  “You need to see for yourself that there is no chance of survivors,” he said quietly, looking round the stunned faces of the young trainees and the few older career people. “I can understand, but thank the Gods that you haven’t seen it for yourselves. You want facts? Then I’ll give them to you, and when you wake in the night sweating and crying out for your loved ones, don’t curse me for telling you!” He stopped to catch his breath.

  “Brother Dzaka, I don’t think…” began Nuada.

  “No, you don’t think,” said Dzaka. “They need to know. We of the Brotherhood were called in from the first when the scale of the… destruction… was realized. It was as Nuada said, bodies everywhere. They lay where they’d fallen— on the streets, in the stores, in the still smoldering wrecks of vehicles gone out of control. There was no dignity in their deaths. They lay as if an angry giant had finished his game and had tossed his toy people away.” He stopped, noticing that the younger ones had their ears laid back in distress. Well, they were getting what they’d demanded.