Rebel Ice

by S. L. Viehl

  She didn’t know him. Reever was stunned into silence. She didn’t know him.

  There were a thousand possible reasons as to why, but that didn’t matter. All Reever had to do was link with her, and show her the memories of their life together. That would erase whatever had been done to her mind.

  “Give me your hand,” he said, reaching out.

  “Here.” She placed her hand in his. “Don’t be afraid. Your vision will return, I promise you.”

  As Reever held his wife’s hand, he hesitated. He was not a physician, but he knew that amnesia was not always attributed to physical injury. Sometimes the victim forgot the past to protect the mind. Then there was Cherijo’s unique physiology, which was far different from a normal Terran’s.

  What did this to her? Why doesn’t she know me?

  He couldn’t risk a link until he knew what had happened to her. For that, he needed to see her. He lifted his hands to the bandages.

  “No.” She drew his hands back. “I know your eyes are itching; it is from the medicine that I put into them. You must not rub or scratch at them.”

  “I have to see you.”

  “I am flattered, ensleg, but you can see me tomorrow. Leave the bandage alone until then, and try to sleep while you can.” She moved away to check the patient in the berth beside him.

  Reever tracked her movements through the ward, and listened to her voice. She spoke flawless Iisleg, and used their idioms, yet also used League medical terms. She would not have been able to recall them had she not remembered something of her past.

  Squilyp will know what to do. The Omorr Senior Healer on board the Torin’s ship knew a great deal about Cherijo’s condition. In the past he had operated on her hands and treated her for a mental aberration that had almost got her killed. He was a skilled surgeon and doctor; he would have an answer to this.

  For now, Reever had to get her out of this war and off the world.

  As soon as Reever was sure there was no one in close proximity to him, he checked his wrist. Because he was an ensleg, they had left his wristcom in place and activated to translate his voice. Carefully he deactivated it, removed it, and inverted it, and then concealed it in the furs by his head.

  The message was prerecorded, so he did not have to speak into the unit before transmitting. There had been only one message that he had ever intended sending. All he had to do was press a switch, and the tiny, powerful transponder inside his wristcom was activated.

  It sent a coded signal on a secured channel with an encryption that no one but Xonea Torin could read, so it would make no sense to anyone else who picked it up on relay. The message was very brief.

  I have found her.

  Reever pressed a second switch. It removed the message and cycled the signal tone only, making it into a beacon. The repeated tone was also something Xonea would understand. It meant that Reever needed assistance getting off Akkabarr.

  Now, Xonea, Reever thought as he began working the bandages loose, show me how much you honor my wife.

  As soon as Resa and Teulon were asleep, Jarn slipped out of the shelter and walked through the bitter cold to the field hospital. The ward nurses were busy inventorying supplies and indicated there were no problems with the patients, who were all asleep.

  All but the Terran, Jarn discovered as she went out onto the ward. He was trying to work the bandage from his eyes.

  “You must not remove this,” she told him as she sat down beside him and removed his hands from his face. “I will put you into restraints if I must.”

  “I would not recommend you do.” He turned his head toward her. “You sound tired.”

  “I could not sleep.” Jarn tucked in a loose fold of linen. “My thoughts are the wind tonight.”

  “So are mine.” His mouth curled on one side. “Tell me about yourself, Healer. How did you come to join the rebellion?”

  She could blame Teulon for persuading her, but in truth what she had done was her own fault. “It seemed an intelligent thing to do at the time. Now I have my doubts. What is a Terran doing fighting on Akkabarr?”

  “I came to find my wife.”

  She remembered how he had spoken of her, the first time they had met at the site of the wreck, when she had repaired his facial wound. “Fighting a war is not finding a woman.”

  “I found her.” He took her hand in his. “On a battlefield.”

  Jarn frowned. “You left her there?”

  “In a manner of speaking. She did not recognize me.” His fingers felt very warm on hers. “I think she is safer not knowing yet. You are involved with the Raktar.”

  Jarn thought of Resa and Teulon, sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms. Seeing how they looked together had made her feel like an intruder. “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Do you and the other healer love him?”

  What an odd question. “Resa and I are loyal to him. He is a great leader.” She inspected his features. “War is not a time for lovers, ensleg.”

  “When the war is over?”

  Jarn sighed. “I cannot say. Now, will you sleep, or must I club you over the head? I cannot spare the sedatives.”

  The Terran sat up and brought her hand to his face. “Take off the bandage and check my eyes.”

  “Or you will rip it off yourself during the night, I suppose?” He nodded. She began unwinding the bandage. “Your eyes have not had time to heal. You will not be able to see anything. Keep them closed until I switch off these lights.”

  Once the bandage was off, she darkened the emitters near him and returned to his side. “Now, look at me.”

  The Terran opened his eyes, which were still milky with the medication drops she had put in them to treat the damage. “I can see a little now.”

  “Good. You heal quickly, Terran.” She bent over to replace the dressing. “If you do not acquire an infection from fiddling with your bandages, your full vision should return in another two or three days.”

  He caught her wrists with his hands. “You are certain of this?”

  “It could take a little less time, or a little more.”

  Jarn wondered if she should use the scarce sedatives on him anyway. “All will be well again, ensleg.”

  “Yes.” He released her. “It will be, soon.”

  Resa met Jarn outside surgery the next morning, and took the bin with the blackened, amputated foot from her. “How is he?”

  “Stable. I was hesitant to use a local, but he was calm enough once we put a curtain in place.” After they returned to the hospital, Jarn stripped off her gloves and plunged her hands into the heated water in the washbasin to warm them. The heatarcs were needed for the comfort of the patients, so surgery was always chilly. “How was the Raktar when he woke?”

  “Rested.” Resa smiled a little. “Grateful.”

  “When the war is over, he will need someone at his side.” Jarn gave her a level look. “It will not be me, Resa. It will be you.”

  “Who can say what will be?” Resa shrugged. “Teulon left to go to the northern territories. He said it was time to lead the reserves against Skjonn and the other skim cities.”

  Jarn shook the water from her hands. “It is too soon for that. The third phase was not to be initiated for several days.”

  “I heard him and Hasal speaking of it earlier,” Resa said. “The Kangal is forming an alliance with the League. That will supply the Kangal with all the ships and soldiers he needs, and the war will be over. Teulon must take the cities today.”

  Men shouting from outside the shelter made Jarn tense. Both women listened as furious protests clashed with one adamant voice.

  “That is Hasal.” Jarn pulled on her robe and threw one to Resa before running out.

  Resa looked down and saw the vral masks sitting where she and Jarn had left them. “Jarn, no.” She grabbed them and ran out after her friend.

  The Raktar’s second was standing in the center of the men, arguing with half a dozen of them.

  “No,
I have my orders. The Raktar always anticipated this.” To another man, Hasal said, “It has been a danger since he came to us. We must continue as he has bidden.”

  Jarn shoved the men out of her way. “Hasal. What has happened?”

  The sight of her made Hasal close his eyes for a moment. “The Raktar’s company was on their way to meet with the reserves. They were ambushed.” Hasal spit on the ice. “The survivors we found say the only man they took onto the ship was the Raktar. They took him to Skjonn.”

  “Someone has betrayed us,” Resa said as she joined Jarn and Hasal. She looked around the circle. “Who?”

  Hasal pulled his knife. “Navn’s son. He came last night with tales of League alliances. He told the Raktar that Orjakis was going to get ships and troops from them. He set the plan into motion too soon. He must have done so in order to ambush the general.” To one of the rebels, he said, “Fetch him.”

  Jarn frowned. “Resa, did the Raktar tell Hasal about Aktwar this morning?” She noticed the men staring at her, and reached up to touch her exposed face.

  “I tried to stop you.” Resa handed her one of the vral masks. “Too late for these, I think.”

  “You are women,” one of the men murmured, his gaze moving from the blob masks to their faces. “Only women.”

  “It was not me!” Aktwar Navn, struggling between two hunters, was dragged into the circle. “It was them!” He twisted loose and rushed at Jarn, who pulled her blade. He came to a comical halt and spit at the feet of the two women. “Filth, to accuse me of betrayal.”

  “Actually,” Hasal said from behind Aktwar, “it was I who accused you. I heard what you said to the Raktar last night. You lied to send him out into a trap.”

  “Jarn,” Resa murmured, drawing her back. “Teulon’s decision to go was based on what this boy told him.”

  Hasal gave them a quick, hard look, but Navn’s son was too busy shouting at the other men to hear what Resa had said. “You see? This ensleg was cast out of my father’s iiskar to become skela, like this one. They are filth, and filth always betrays the worthy.”

  Resa walked up to him. “I saved your life, boy, when you were too afraid to defend it.”

  He lunged at her and wrapped his hands around her throat. “You will die a proper death this time, ensleg.” He stiffened a moment later and collapsed against her.

  Behind him, Hasal lowered his crossbow.

  Resa lowered the boy to the ground and checked him, but the bolt had penetrated the back of his neck. “He is dead.”

  “Aktwar!” A woman dressed in a fine robe fought her way to the dead boy’s body, and threw herself on top of it. “My son, my son.” She sobbed uncontrollably.

  One of the hunters said, “You are women. Skela women.”

  Resa stood and looked at the faces around them. “Yes, we are women. We were skela before we joined the rebellion. So were all the other vral.”

  “There is not a man here who can say that the vral have not fought as long or as hard or as fiercely as you,” Jarn told them. She pulled her hood back so that her long dark hair was exposed, as well.

  “No,” Hasal said, his voice oddly gentle. “No one can say that.”

  “It is forbidden …,” one of the older men began to say, but glares from the others silenced him.

  Resa touched her face. “You could fight with us when you could not see this. I am asking only that you fight with us again, and save our general.”

  “No,” Hasal said. “The Raktar left orders. If the assault on the skim city failed, the remaining troops were to remain on-planet.”

  Resa felt like wrenching the bolt out of Aktwar and driving it through Hasal’s heart. “The assault hasn’t failed yet. Edin.” The Raktar’s commander stepped forward. “Your crossbow.” She held out her hand. He placed it in her hands, and she checked it to make sure a bolt was loaded before she leveled it at the woman crouched over Aktwar’s body. “Get up, Sogayi.”

  The Raktar’s second stiffened. “What are you doing?”

  Sogayi lifted her tearstained face. “You kill my son, and now you would kill me?”

  “I will if I am right. How long have you been feeding information to the Tos’, Sogayi?” Resa demanded. “Since Navn joined the rebellion? Before?”

  Jarn put a hand on Resa’s forearm. “Resa, wait.”

  “No.” Resa sighted the bolt. “How did you get word to the Toskald?”

  “There have been enough killings this day,” Hasal said, his voice harsh. He turned to the men. “Remove the boy’s body. I will alert the troops.”

  Jarn shot a bolt into the ice in front of Hasal’s boots, preventing him from taking another step. The circle around them widened. “No, you will not.”

  “Stop interfering, you idiot female,” Hasal shouted. “While you play with that weapon, our general is dying.”

  “Dying?” Sogayi gave Resa a look of loathing. “No. He is already dead.”

  She leaped to her feet and tried to run, but Jarn and Resa had her on the ground before she went a hundred yards. Ice chips flew as the three tumbled over and over.

  Resa landed on top and put her blade to Sogayi’s throat. “How could you do this? You are Iisleg. These are your people.”

  “My people.” Sogayi spit in her face. “My people made me a whore.”

  Resa jerked the woman to her feet and turned her to face Aktwar’s body. “You killed your own son, Sogayi. For the Tos’.”

  “My son.” Sogayi wrenched free and staggered forward, reaching for the body. “I was sent as tithe to Skjonn. It was better than being camp filth forever, wasn’t it? The old rasakt told me that the windlords would be kind. That they would pamper me like a pet.”

  “Is there anyone else here from Iiskar Navn?” Resa asked.

  A hunter stepped forward. “I was born to Navn.”

  “Does she speak the truth?”

  The man nodded. “She was one of the camp whores. She was sent to Skjonn as tithe. The Kangal sent her back as unacceptable.”

  “How long was she in the skim city?” Hasal asked the hunter.

  “A year.”

  Silence settled over the circle.

  “This is the day when all the pretense ends.” Sogayi looked past them at the ice. “I was sent by my mother to old Navn, who made me a whore. It was he who sent me to the Kangal. My mother persuaded him to do it. She said it would be better than being made skela for what I had done.”

  “What was your crime?” Resa asked.

  “I fought back when a man beat me for not pleasing him.” Sogayi’s smile turned ironic. “I did not like it as much as my mother.”

  “And for this, you betrayed us?” Jarn demanded.

  “I didn’t,” Sogayi said. “I only betrayed Navn. I helped kill the old one. And the young one. And now our son.”

  Resa’s eyes narrowed. “That is the same thing—”

  “They have my first child, my daughter. Her name is Poma.” Sogayi looked up at the dark blur of Skjonn floating high overhead. “The Kangal told me I would do this or he would kill her. So I said I would. I let him put me in one of his machines. It put things in my flesh. Things that told him everything my ears heard, and told my ears what he wanted. I asked Navn about the general. I gave Aktwar the story. I did everything he asked.”

  Jarn ran a scanner over the woman. “Transponder implants.”

  Resa wanted nothing more than to kill Sogayi, but that would not save Teulon. “What will happen now?”

  “The Kangal will do something terrible to him. He is very creative. It will take a long time. Perhaps he will do it in front of his new League allies.” Sogayi gave Resa a strange look. “He wants you, too. I was to have you captured the next time you went on the ice.”

  Resa frowned. “Why me?”

  “The League has come for you. You belong to them. That is all I know.” The Iisleg woman’s voice grew dull. “I don’t care what you do to me. You have killed my son, but I have saved the life of my daughter.
At least one will live.”

  “No.” Jarn grabbed Sogayi by the front of the robe. “There is another life you will save.”

  The Sunlace was on full battle alert as it transitioned into normal space, and turned on a direct heading for planet Akkabarr. On board the Jorenian vessel, every member of HouseClan Torin was preparing for a largescale assault on the ice world.

  “Captain Torin.”

  Xonea Torin stopped in the corridor and turned to see his Senior Healer hopping out of the medical bay. “Healer Squilyp, there is—”

  “—no time left to debate the matter, I know.” The Omorr caught up with him. “Our sojourn teams are ready to report to the launch bay on your orders. Medical has prepared to receive mass casualties, as have the Senior Healers on the other ships in the fleet. We have replenished all depleted supplies and tripled our replacement organ stocks.”

  Xonea relaxed a degree. “I am grateful for your attention to detail.”

  “It is nothing.” Squilyp nodded toward the corridor ahead of them. “May I walk with you to Command?”

  The Jorenian captain and the Omorr healer had never considered each other friends, but since Squilyp had taken over as Senior Healer they had come to rely on each other’s opinion. Xonea found the Omorr’s mind meticulous and efficient, while Squilyp appreciated the Jorenian’s uncompromising integrity. They also respected each other’s responsibilities, diverse as they were.

  “Reever has found her, but he cannot leave the planet,” Squilyp said. “The League has most of the Seventh Fleet surrounding Akkabarr. They will not let us take them without a fight.”

  Xonea stopped to approve a requisition from one of the engineers. When the man strode off, he said, “I know it will not be an easy retrieval.”

  “Not when the Faction is probably at this moment sending every raider they have within range to attack this world,” Squilyp said.

  “We will reach Akkabarr before the beasts do.” Xonea stopped and faced the Omorr. “I know what you mean to say, Senior Healer. But Cherijo is more than this House. She is a member of the Ruling Council of Joren.”

  “Captain, if she verifies that the League were at fault for the Jado Massacre—”