“Did it escape?”
“Afraid so. It went into jump, taking one of our fighters with it. By the way, next time you come, I’ll be in my new room,” she said, ripping the pack open. “They’re working on it now.”
Placing the pad over the wound, she quickly and efficiently rebound the injury. “It’s in keeping with my new status as a Physician. Now, lie back, I want to run some scans on your brain chemistry.”
He lay down and stared at the ceiling, blinking as he tried to avoid looking at the bright overhead lights. He was on edge and he knew it. Thankfully Vanna was in a chatty mood which meant he didn’t have to make an effort with conversation.
“Headache?” she asked, swinging the scanner out and over his head, effectively blocking out the brightness.
He could see his face mirrored in the interior of the device. His inner eyelids were showing again.
“A bit,” he admitted. “A dull ache behind my eyes.”
“Photosensitive?”
He nodded, instantly regretting it.
“Keep your head still, please,” she said, her voice becoming a little distant as she moved away from the scanner.
He heard her working at her keyboard.
“How long?”
“Since yesterday evening.”
“What I expected. Same with Carrie. I’ll give you something for it before you leave.”
“Anything on the scan?” he asked.
“You’ve got a basic knowledge of medicine as it applies to telepaths, haven’t you?” she asked.
“Fair,” he admitted. “I studied with the medics in the guild. It’s not my calling, though.”
“Well, there’s increased activity in the thalamus region,” she said. “Which is what I expected as that’s the area concerned with memory. Again, I found the same with Carrie. I presume it’s due to the mental exchange you experienced when you bonded to each other. The chemical levels are out of synch— in fact, yours are worse than Carrie’s, but that may well be due to the species difference rather than anything else. You actually exchanged memories, didn’t you?”
He made a sound of assent as he heard her moving around again.
“You’re also showing a small weight loss since your last physical, but considering what we’ve all been through in the last couple of months, I’m not surprised,” she said, a hint of humor in her voice. “Everything else is normal. I’d like to do regular checks on you both, so I can monitor your vital signs. If there are any changes at all, I want to be able to identify them as soon as possible.”
“Are you expecting any problems?” he asked, picking up her concern despite the lightness of her voice.
“Not expecting, I just want to be prepared. I need to have established baseline readings I can trust.”
He heard her footsteps come toward him, then the scanner was swung back. “Kusac,” she said, looking down at him. “Do you know anything about the Leska Links that wouldn’t be in the medical files? Any Telepath Guild information we might not have?”
“I presume our guilds have always shared relevant information,” he said, swaying slightly as he sat up. The dizzy spells were coming more often now. This was the third time it had happened today.
Vanna steadied him, helping him swing his legs over the side of the couch. “That’s some headache you’ve got!” she said sympathetically. “The Telepath Guild Medics occasionally treat Leskas themselves, presumably because there are certain conditions they don’t want us in Medical to know about.” She went over to a cupboard and, selecting a medicine container, began dispensing some pills into a small bottle.
“If you are aware of anything, I’d appreciate it if you told me because, the Gods help you, I’m literally the only expert we have on Terran telepath physiology, and what affects Carrie affects you. I need cross-guild knowledge which your guild won’t even admit it has! This is too new and too important to be bound up by the restrictions of our separate guilds.”
“You probably know more about it than I do, Vanna,” he said, trying not to sound evasive as held out his hand for the bottle.
Her eyes flicked across his face, assessing his answer. “Fair enough. Don’t take these on an empty stomach. I’ve put my personal contact number on the label. If you need me, page me anytime. I’ll see you again in four days. I’d like it to be sooner, but your guild hearing is tomorrow and we all have the courtmartial the following day. I don’t envisage any substantial differences will show up sooner than that.”
“I’ll get in touch if there’s a problem,” he said, pocketing the bottle and pushing himself off the couch.
Vanna watched him leave. As he reached the door, she called out to him.
“Kusac!”
He stopped and turned round.
“You and Carrie take it easy, hear me? This Link is a tremendous upheaval for both of you. It’ll take a lot of adjustment. Remember, I’m here as your friend, not just as a medic.”
“Thank you, Vanna,” he said, touched by her concern even though it posed a problem for him. “We’ll take it easy, don’t worry.”
*
The walk back from the medical section tired him out, and it was with relief that he sealed his door behind him. He’d slept badly the night before, partly because of working late on his reports for Sub-Commander Kolem and the guild and partly because of the unfamiliar silence in his mind.
He’d woken uncharacteristically late for him and had spent what had been left of the morning making rough notes on what he’d read of the physical and psychological effects of a normal Leska Link and correlating it against his personal experiences.
The pattern of the Link’s development was similar, but the degree of dependence and depth of their continual shared experiences, both mental and physical, was already far in excess of the Sholan Links.
His mental world was still silent, but he knew it was not due to the effects of drugs. Carrie had managed somehow to block their link in a way that he couldn’t figure. That in itself was an achievement that marked her Talents as substantially different from those of Sholans. He needed to do some more work on this, but his headache had reached the state where all he really wanted to do was lie down.
Absentmindedly, he scratched a vague itch on his thigh, then another on his neck. Moments later, he stopped in the middle of vigorously clawing himself behind the ears and cursed. The last thing he wanted to do was start grooming, but if he didn’t, the itching would drive him mad.
Discarding his jacket and belt as he went, he made for the drawers where he kept his brush. Using the minimum effort, he was shocked to find that after only a few strokes he had to clean the bristles. He was shedding, and quite heavily. Something was very wrong with him. As he drew the brush through the fur between his ears, a wave of dizziness made him reel, and he reached out to the unit beside him to stop himself from falling.
My hair’s growing, he/she thought, drawing the brush through its length, watching the sunlight bring out the copper glints in the blonde before stopping to untangle a snarl. The memory faded.
Shaken, he put the brush down. What the hell was happening to him? Nothing like this had been on even the sealed files that he’d read. Was this a product of the increased activity Vanna’s scans had shown? On unsteady legs he went over to his bed and sat down. Carrie had mentioned flashes of his memories intruding into her consciousness. No wonder she’d been frightened. It was unnerving enough to constantly share your every thought with another, let alone being unable to tell where you began and she ended. Even though the light level in his room was set low, it was too bright for him now. The headache had spread and every movement sent stabbing pain straight through his skull.
I need to record this, he thought. Father needs to know.
A wave of nausea swept through him. He lay down, the desire to do anything other than sleep leaving him abruptly. Gods, are the next three days going to be like this? he thought.
*
Vanna and Garras were sitting in the main bar on the co
ncourse enjoying a quiet drink.
“May I join you?” said a voice.
Vanna looked up to see Mito slide into the seat opposite them.
“Surely,” she said, concealing her surprise. Mito struck her as one who wouldn’t normally seek out their more staid company.
“Will you join us in a drink?” asked Garras. “I was just about to order another for us.”
Mito hesitated. “No, I won’t,” she said. “I can see you’ve just come off duty, Captain. I don’t want to take up your leisure time.”
“Then what can we do for you?” he asked, raising an eye ridge quizzically.
“I’ve been talking to Anders,” she said, ears twitching faintly with embarrassment.
“And?” prompted Vanna as she hesitated.
“Well, it may be something or nothing,” she said. “Apparently, yesterday Skai was asked by one of our people about the incident involving Kusac and Guynor.”
Vanna’s ears swiveled round toward Mito. She felt Garras’ tail flick once, warningly, against her leg.
“Go on,” said Garras.
“He wanted to know about the Challenge,” Mito said. “Details like what Guynor’s grounds were, the allegations he made against Kusac, and did Skai think they were true.”
“It’s not unreasonable to assume that Guynor had some friends on the Khalossa and that they should want to know what happened on Keiss. After all, he is being held in solitary except for seeing his legal representative. They can’t ask him directly.”
Mito nodded. “I thought that myself, but why ask the Terran? Why not ask one of us?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Mito, but I’ll look into it if you like,” he said, finishing off his drink and getting to his feet. “Are you sure I can’t get you something?”
“No, thank you,” she said, getting up also. “I have to go. I’ve arranged to meet friends shortly.”
“Oh, before you leave,” said Garras. “Skai didn’t get the name of this person, did he?”
“I’m afraid not. He said he hasn’t yet learned to identify anyone but us. He did remember the male was brown in color,” she said, an amused tone creeping into her voice, “but he was out of uniform, so Skai couldn’t even tell me which guild he belonged to.”
Vanna sat there in a state of extreme agitation until Garras returned bearing two large spirit glasses. He placed one in front of her.
“It’s a Chemerian M’ikkoe. Drink it slowly,” he said, sitting back down. “We need it,” he said grimly, seeing her surprise. “I have a feeling we’ve got a large problem on our hands.”
*
The incoming call light on his comm was blinking when he returned from his visit to the nearby village. Settling himself at his desk, he tapped the accept key and waited.
The image resolved to show the face of his one-time Leader from the Brotherhood.
“Ghezu. To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your call?” he asked, his voice a soft purr.
“Your status has been reactivated. We’ve a contract for you.”
He could sense the terseness in the other’s voice. “I don’t think so,” he murmured. “The Brotherhood and I parted company a long time ago.”
“I want to renew our relationship about as much as you do,” said Ghezu. “I have no choice. This contract comes from the highest level.”
Dispassionately, he watched the Sub-Guild Master’s ears move fractionally. Another would have missed it, but not him.
“You no longer have any jurisdiction over me, Ghezu.”
“Your association with the Brotherhood never ends, Tallinu, you know that. You owe me a debt, and I’m calling it in now.”
“It was in our mutual interests that our… association… was terminated,” he reminded him.
“You’re the only person capable of handling a job of this complexity. It’s also one that will appeal to you.”
He raised an eye ridge. “Tell me about it,” he said abruptly. “I guarantee nothing, but tell me about it.”
“You know the Others have been located, and with them another species that may be friendly toward us.” Ghezu stopped.
“Go on.” None of this was news so far.
“There’s a telepath among them, and one of our males has formed a Link with her. A Leska Link.”
He had to force his mind into stillness lest he give himself away. “Her people have been fighting the Others.” It was a statement. “She can fight.”
Ghezu nodded.
Realization hit him like a cold shower. “So can he!”
“Retirement hasn’t dulled your senses,” Ghezu said dryly. “Yes, they can both fight. I don’t need to tell you the political implications of this, do I?”
He shook his head.
“We need you to assess the situation and then take appropriate action within the scope of your contract. The agreement will be delivered to you in person at the temple in Valsgarth. Your employer wishes to talk to you in person and will meet you there at the twenty-second hour. You leave from the shuttleport at dawn.”
“If I accept, it will be as a freelance operative.” He watched Ghezu’s eyes narrow. A flick of his left ear affirmed his grudging consent.
“Agreed, but I expect to be kept informed of all developments.”
“Then I’ll take the contract,” he said. “It comes from the highest source, you said.”
“That information will be on the contract.” Ghezu’s voice was cold. “No comm is completely secure.”
Tallinu refused the bait. As the Sub-Guild Master reached to cut the connection, he forestalled him.
“Ghezu, this pays my debt. Understood? I owe you nothing after this.”
Ghezu’s face darkened. “Agreed,” he snarled before blanking the screen.
“The years haven’t taught you subtlety,” said the priest, continuing to survey the distant snow-topped mountains on the other side of the Kysubi Plains. “You still don’t know how to handle him, do you?”
“I’d like to see you do better,” Ghezu growled as he pushed his chair back impatiently. “You know I didn’t want to use him at all. That was your idea. He’s too dangerous, too much of a loner.”
“I agree,” said Lijou, turning away from the window. “Unfortunately, he’s also the only one capable of thinking on his feet. What a pity you had to alienate him all those years ago.”
“It was him or me, Lijou. There’s only room for one leader in the Brotherhood,” Ghezu replied angrily. “I won fair and square.”
“You won,” agreed the priest, walking over to the desk and picking up his mug of c’shar. “What you did was, shall we say, unethical?”
“Ethics be damned! The Brotherhood stands outside the normal bounds of ethics, always has. It’s the result that counts.”
“Not quite, Ghezu,” said Lijou quietly, taking a sip of his drink. “You want to be thankful that he wasn’t as ambitious as you were, and that he still follows the code of the Brotherhood.”
“I had no choice, Lijou! He kept disobeying my orders and carrying out contracts his own way. He had to go.”
“Or die.”
Ghezu regarded him stonily. “We were friends, once.”
“Yes,” said Lijou, looking him calmly in the eyes. “He would have made a good Guild Master, combining as he does the best of both disciplines. Still, it wasn’t to be. He’s as inflexible as you are in his own way, and who’s to say you aren’t the better leader?”
“I don’t think I like your inference, Lijou,” he said, turning his back on him and walking toward the door. He hesitated, hand on the doorknob. “He was the popular choice among the students, but he didn’t have what it took to be a Master, and as his friend, I knew that. So did he.” He turned round to face Lijou again.
“The Brotherhood has never been stronger than it is now. My intelligence network is spread wider than it was under Loedd. Because of that, we’ve heard about what’s happened to one of the telepaths on the Khalossa and his Link to a new s
pecies. When there’s been news of new artifacts found at one of the ruined cities, we’ve been there to— liberate— some of them without suspicion before the senior members of the Telepath Guild have arrived to destroy them. Don’t forget what has been achieved in your desire to criticize my ethics, Lijou. I’m sure Vartra would not be so damning of me.”
“I’m not trying to destroy your achievements, Ghezu. As your priest, I’m merely reminding you that you’re mortal and can make mistakes. Tallinu is right for the job, trust me. He still serves our God.”
“Oh, I know that,” he said dryly, “and I believe he’ll do the job, but on his terms, not ours.”
“Times are changing, Ghezu. These two people on the Khalossa represent a new force that will upset the order we’ve lived under since the Cataclysm. They could be the sign we’ve been waiting for.”
“They could be our destruction, have you thought of that? Tallinu couldn’t be controlled. If they can’t be, what then?”
“You answer your own question,” he said, pointing to the crystal cube lying on the desk. “His orders are explicit. He’ll do what needs to be done.”
*
An insistent tone dragged Kusac from the depths of sleep. Bleary-eyed, he tried to focus on the timepiece set into the wall opposite the bed. He’d slept the clock round. The door sounded again, more insistent this time, and with an effort he rose and dragged himself to his feet. His head was still pounding, yet he felt curiously lightheaded. He made his way to the door and pressed the communication button.
“Who’s it?” he growled.
“It’s Rhian, Kusac,” came the answer.
The door slid open, admitting Rhian.
“Are you all right?” she asked, moving over to him as he made his way slowly to the nearest chair. Her face creased with concern. “You don’t look well.”
“Fine. Jus’ woke up, tha’s all,” he slurred, trying to wave her away. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool and all he wanted to do was to go back to sleep.
“When did you last eat?” she asked sharply, going over to the small drink dispenser in the far corner of the room.
“Uh, when we all went to the mess,” he mumbled, trying to keep his eyes open.
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