fortuneswheel

by Lisanne Norman

  “In here,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her through the doorway beside them.

  The Mentor sat at a desk facing a window-sized viewing screen. Beside her was a high ranking official from the Medical Guild, and behind them stood Draz. The adjacent room was being swabbed down by a couple of maintenance personnel wearing environmental suits.

  Mnya turned to them as they entered. “Kusac, Carrie, it’s good to see you again,” she said, getting up and holding out her palm in greeting.

  Briefly Carrie touched her hand to the Mentor’s.

  “This is Consultant Chiort from Medical,” Mnya said, indicating her companion. “Sub-Lieutenant Draz you already know. We thought it time for you to try using your Talent professionally, as it were,” she said, resuming her seat. “I take it Kusac has told you the gist of our problem?”

  Carrie nodded. “You could be right,” she said. “The Valtegans that came to the inn on Keiss were terrified of Kusac. They kept as far away from him as possible.”

  “That’s interesting. Perhaps Draz’s observations are nearer the mark than we thought.”

  You’ll be able to cope, sent Kusac, his hand tightening around hers. Jack will be there, too.

  I’ll manage, she replied, aware of his concern.

  “Kusac and you have both told me how you’ve read Valtegan minds before,” Mnya said. “We need you to question the Valtegan about why he’s on Keiss, where his home world is, and who they’re fighting. When you ask the questions, listen not so much to his words as to his surface thoughts. We’re recording the interview so that we can make sense of the actual language he speaks afterward. Here’s a list of the questions we need you to ask,” she said, handing her a piece of paper. “They’ve been written phonetically in Valtegan by your friend Jo. All you have to do is read them out.”

  Carrie felt Kusac about to speak. I’ll get the answers, but I’ll do it my way.

  Remember, he warned, only listen to the surface thoughts, don’t take from him.

  “We’ll be watching from here,” Mnya continued. “If there’s the slightest sign of trouble, Draz will be in immediately.” She looked wryly at Kusac. “If he wasn’t, then Kusac would be. Do you have any questions? They should be arriving in a few minutes.”

  Carrie shook her head. “None. A captive Valtegan won’t bother me.” She moved away from the Mentor to look through the screen. The room was empty now save for a table and two chairs opposite each other, one being obviously a padded restraint chair.

  You know what to do, don’t you? Kusac sent. Match your mind to his, then ask the questions. You should be able to feel his answers as he speaks them. If you need to, use our Link as I showed you to draw on me for extra energy. He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. You’ll do fine.

  She put her hand up to cover one of his. I’m not worried, she sent, aware of his continuing concern. It’s good to feel useful for a change. She felt his immediate objections and laughed. “You know what I mean,” she said.

  Her attention was drawn back to the other room as the door opened to admit Skai. Perry and Anders followed, holding the struggling Valtegan between them.

  Carrie watched as the prisoner was unceremoniously placed in the chair and the automatic restraints activated to hold him by the forearms and calves. The three then stood back against the wall, waiting.

  The Valtegan sat there looking ahead, toward her. With tiny jerky movements he turned his head, eyes flicking in every direction, assessing the room, weighing the odds against an escape attempt.

  She watched him almost dispassionately. He was scared, she could feel it even from here. His skin was more than usually pallid, the scales looking dull and lackluster. The whites of his slightly bulbous eyes were red and rimmed with matter; he blinked at the brightness of the lights. His wrists moved, pulling against the restraints, testing them.

  “Turn the lights down,” she said abruptly. “It’s too bright for him.”

  As the lights dimmed, a little of the tension seemed to leave his body and he sat still now except for the slow blinking of his eyes.

  His clothing was mud-streaked and torn. That was to be expected, but there was something unusual about it, and him. Frowning, she stepped closer to the view screen. Under the stains the uniform was slightly different in color from those she was used to seeing around Valleytown. Perhaps he was on active service rather than one of the garrison troops.

  It was hard to see in this one trapped soldier the aliens who had terrified her people for years on Keiss. Those nightmare days seemed removed from reality now, belonging to another time.

  “I’m going in,” she said, turning away from the screen.

  She hesitated in front of the door, then resolutely pressed the access panel. It slid open and as she stepped inside, the familiar dry musty smell hit her nostrils, this time overlaid with the sharpness of fear. Memories started to crowd her mind, and she pushed them aside firmly. She didn’t want to remember now, she had a job to do.

  She walked past their captive on slightly unsteady legs, grateful for the long Sholan robes that she now wore. At least no one could see she was nervous. Stopping between the table and the prisoner, she raised her eyes and looked up at him. He stared back, eyes locking onto her face briefly before he looked away.

  The hairless face and head was humanoid, with a forehead that fell smoothly down toward the nose. His bulbous eyes were set in a skin that was scaled an unhealthy shade of pale green. He sniffed, tongue-tip flicking out to taste the air. The mouth opened slightly revealing rows of sharp pointed incisors.

  “You insult me,” he hissed in badly spoken Terran, pulling again at his restraints. “Not talk to female.” He arched his hands, the nonretractable claws puncturing and ripping the fabric beneath.

  “You’ll talk to me,” said Carrie, resting her hands behind her against the table top. “You’re not one of the garrison troops.”

  Hissing, he turned his head, trying to see the Terran males behind him.

  “I asked you a question,” she said, her voice taking on a hard edge.

  He ignored her, continuing to hiss and turn his head. The smell of fear was getting stronger.

  Leaning forward, Carrie reached for his jaw, grasping it firmly and forcing his face round to hers.

  “You will talk to me!” she said, her fingers pressing into his flesh.

  His mouth opened and the tongue flicked out to touch her wrist. He recoiled, trying to pull away from her, his teeth snapping in the hope of catching her arm. His mouth opened wide as he tried to hiss, but his attempt ended in a choking cough.

  Carrie, take care! Your hand is too close! sent Kusac.

  The Valtegan’s eyes were beginning to glaze, and his movements became more frantic as he jerked his head free of her hand. A flap of skin on his scalp raised, forming a small crest that fluttered briefly before collapsing again. He began to gabble in his own language, his eyes rolling up till only the whites showed.

  She felt fear welling up inside him, pushing coherent thoughts aside and filling his mind till there was no room for anything else. He was still conscious but not for much longer. There was no time to think, only to act. Reaching into his mind she took control. His body jerked, then his limbs went slack. Where there had been fear before there was now stark terror at her presence, a terror so strong it broke her hold over him.

  Surprised she followed, sinking through the levels of his consciousness as he fled her mental touch. Aware of Kusac’s thoughts as he tried to stop her, she thrust them aside, intent on the hunt as any Sholan would have been.

  The falling sensation stopped abruptly to be replaced by the feeling of floating in a vast cavern, an alien landscape full of shadows briefly illuminated by flashes of brightness that for a split second revealed an image. She knew that if she could but reach the flashes she would have the information she needed.

  The myriad of tiny flares were dimming now, fewer each second as his terror extinguished th
em one by one. Reaching for those few that were left, she memorized them, storing them at the back of her mind for later. No time now to examine them. One by one the lights faded, turning in on themselves till all that remained was his terror and the dark within dark.

  She knew reality was nearby, just the other side of the darkness, but sudden tiredness weakened her. She tried to go back the way she had come but now she felt a resistance to her as everything around her started to slow down. It was like moving through a thick, dark syrup. Then slowly she realized something was wrong. Panicking, she reached out for Kusac. His thoughts swamped her, full of anger and fear as he pulled her back out of the Valtegan’s mind.

  The return to her own mind was so abrupt that it made her reel and she clutched at the table to steady herself, blinking as she realized she was watching Jack monitoring the effects of the drug on their captive.

  Kusac’s thoughts were blistering. Just what the hell do you think you were doing? I said read the surface thoughts! I didn’t expect you to follow him! You were nearly trapped there!

  I had to go in. He tasted your scent on me and started to withdraw. If I hadn’t, we’d have gotten nothing!

  You should have told me! We’d have sent Jack in to administer the drug first.

  It was the drug that nearly trapped me there. Her tone was sharp and angry. At least now we have some information from him.

  You took unnecessary risks, you violated our code of ethics!

  I don’t subscribe to your damned code! I’m at war with them and I’ll do what’s necessary to get the information we need. I’ve succeeded, that’s what counts at the end of the day.

  “Carrie, are you all right?” asked Jack, glancing round at her.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” she said, rubbing her hand across her eyes as she stood up. “He’s gone catatonic. You’ll get nothing from him now,” she said as she began to walk slowly toward the door. Dammit, Kusac had no right to be angry with her.

  As she passed Skai, he flinched and averted his eyes. Puzzled she glanced at him, feeling his shock at the sight of her eyes.

  She’s not human! His thought echoed round inside her head as she hurried out into the corridor away from him.

  Kusac was waiting. He came over and grasped her by the arm. “The Mentor’s furious,” he growled as he escorted her through the door. “We’ll talk later.”

  Carrie pulled away from him and strode over to Mnya. “Before you start complaining, too, I’m going to tell you just why I did it that way. He was fine until his tongue touched my arm, then he picked up Kusac’s scent. That triggered off a terror reaction that’s programmed into him and he began to withdraw. I tried to stop it, but he preferred to die rather than be exposed to Sholans.”

  She turned to look at Chiort. “Your drugs won’t stop it, nothing will, the fear of your people is too strong. If I hadn’t gone in there and then to take what I could, we’d have had nothing. I did what I had to do.”

  Her tone became angrier as she looked back at Mnya. “His kind aren’t polite in war, I don’t intend to be either. They tortured my sister to death. I’ll follow your code in most circumstances, but not these. Politeness won’t win wars, information will.”

  Mnya’s hard look didn’t change, and Carrie could feel the female’s hostility washing over her. There was a dislike of the unknown quantity that she and Kusac represented, and a fear of the unpredictable element that Carrie’s Link to Kusac had now brought into the Sholan telepath culture.

  “Your actions lost us the chance to interrogate this prisoner,” the Mentor said. “More than that, because you exceeded your instructions, you are responsible for terrifying him to death. Your undisciplined Terran mind…”

  “No,” interrupted Carrie. “You’re wrong. It wasn’t my Terran mind that caused this. He went catatonic because something deep in his subconscious recognized the Sholan in me! He believed I was one of you. My mind isn’t human any more, Mentor. Even he recognized that.”

  A stunned silence greeted her remark, then she felt a sharp invasive probe reach for her mind. Without thinking, she fended it off, hearing Kusac begin to laugh quietly as he moved to stand beside her.

  “We both forgot something vital, Mentor,” he said. “The nature of our Link. What I know, Carrie knows and is learning how to use. She has had the equivalent of an identical upbringing and education to me, including the full knowledge of our code of ethics. Do you know that I’m beginning to think she’s got the right of it after all? In a war, only the victors can afford to have a rigid ethical code.”

  He frowned briefly, putting a hand on her shoulder. Carrie felt the probe at the same time he did.

  “No. I won’t let you read me either,” he said. “My Leska only did what I would have done, given the same circumstances.”

  “Do you want to know what I discovered?” Carrie asked, aware that Kusac’s anger with her had evaporated in the face of the Mentor’s attitude.

  “Yes,” snapped Mnya.

  Carrie sat down on the edge of the table. “The Valtegans seem to have a communal inherited memory. If something has affected them on a racial scale, then somehow, I don’t know the mechanism, it’s imprinted on them and retained to warn future generations. A fear of feline species is what triggers their catatonia— the sight, smell, or worst of all, the touch of a Sholan mind creates a terror so deep they prefer to die rather than face it.”

  “Since we first went into space there has been no record of a species like the Valtegans,” said Mnya, obviously swallowing her anger in her need to know more. “Where have they gotten this fear from? Is there another species like us? Why didn’t the Valtegans you and Kusac were in contact with before we arrived react in the same way?”

  “They were afraid of Kusac, and of the forest cats, but their fear was controllable. Perhaps their paranoia wasn’t triggered until there were large numbers of you on the planet. When we read their minds on Keiss perhaps the presence of a Terran mind— mine— masked Kusac. As for there being another telepathic felinoid species,” said Carrie, “I doubt it. That’s too much of a coincidence. It was definitely the touch of my mind that was the final straw for him. That’s when I took control, hoping to prevent him withdrawing, but his conditioning was so strong that it broke my hold. I followed, hoping either to hold him again, or at the least to gather some of the information we need.”

  “What did you discover?”

  Carrie felt some of the Mentor’s hostility begin to dissipate. “Nothing new, I’m afraid,” she said. “Their war has been going on for a very long time in his reckoning. The enemy is faceless and unseen, they just attack them when told to do so.” She stopped, hesitating before going on. “I don’t know if it’s relevant, but there was something about a holy object or a relic that he was appealing to. It was on the starship they had orbiting Keiss.”

  “What’s this relic like?”

  Carrie shook her head. “I didn’t see it clearly, only that it was dark and large.”

  “Bulky,” interrupted Kusac. “It felt as if it had considerable mass.”

  “You’re right,” she nodded. “It was over the height of a male and about three or four times as wide. There was no real shape to it, it just was.”

  “What’s this about a Valtegan starship?” asked Kusac.

  “It escaped,” said Mnya, getting up. “You’ll have to ask Draz if you wish to know more. Thank you for what you’ve done. In the circumstances you’ve achieved more than we could have looked for,” she said grudgingly.

  The door opened and Jack came in. “I’m afraid you were right, Carrie,” he said. “He’s gone. The drug was no help at all. Sorry, Chiort. I did everything I could to keep him alive.”

  “If the Liegena is correct, then interrogating them is next to impossible,” sighed Chiort, pushing himself up from the table. “Even the Terrans can get nothing from them. Still, we’re learning much about their physiology.”

  Carrie glanced at the view screen while the others talk
ed. Already the three Terrans had left and Draz was organizing the removal of the body to the ship’s morgue. She turned to the Mentor.

  “I’ll have the report for you tomorrow,” she said, answering the as yet unasked question before reaching for Kusac.

  Let’s go. I’m tired of being shut in the suite, I want to go for a walk.

  We haven’t eaten yet. How about going to the concourse for breakfast?

  Sounds good. Do we need to take Meral and Sevrin with us?

  Yes, he sent firmly. You were the one who felt happier having Kaid around. Do you now want to be without them while Kaid is bedridden?

  All right, let’s just go! she sent, getting off the table and heading for the door.

  “Oh, Mentor,” she said, stopping for a moment. “This one was an officer, not one of the fighting men. His mind is more complex, and he was actually less susceptible to the fear of Sholans. You should try looking for other Terran telepaths. Perhaps one without a Leska Link to your people will be able to succeed where we’ve failed.”

  *

  Miosh tapped on Rhyasha’s bedroom door before opening it. “The Clan Lord is on the comm for you,” she said.

  “Tell him I’ll be right there,” said Rhyasha. Taking a deep breath, she got to her feet. This would probably be one of the most difficult calls of her life, and one of the most important for her son.

  Resolutely she went through to the lounge, sitting down at the desk in front of the comm.

  “Konis,” she said, thinking how like his father Kusac was. Same clear gaze, though Konis’ eyes were more green; same determined set to the ears and jawline. “How nice of you to call. How are you and the children?”

  “We’re surviving. I’ll be glad when you get back, though. That damned cook of yours won’t do what I ask her. Pretends she doesn’t understand me. We’re all getting sick of fish!”

  “Oh, no, not again!” said Rhyasha, trying not to laugh. “I thought I’d broken her of that habit after the last time.”

  “Obviously not. Anyway, it wasn’t to discuss our starvation that I called you. I want to talk about Kusac. He called me up at some ungodly hour the night before last.”