Alien Redemption [Clans of Kalquor 06]

by Tracy St. John

  It looked nothing like the police station in which Rachel had been booked, processed, and scanned, but she knew this was the alien version of that. The small hairs on the back of her neck rose.

  She remained on edge until they reached Breft’s office. Though she could still see

  ‘booking’ or whatever they called it here, Breft’s private workspace was not quite as intimidating as the rest of the place. The clear surface of his desk was tidy. Only the flat rectangle of a computer lay there. Over it floated a vid covered with the hieroglyphics that served as the Kalquorian written language. Raised seats, six of them, were arranged in a semi-circle on one side of the desk, while a hover chair floated on the other. A padded bench lined one wall. Vids directly behind Breft’s chair showed numerous shield-like icons with inscriptions floating over them. Rachel guessed they might be awards and commendations.

  She glanced at a painting – a real painting and not a vid – hanging on the wall to her right as she settled in one of the chairs between Conyod and Erybet. It showed a forest with rainbow-hued leaves. A tree on one side had a rope or cord or something of the sort tied to it. The painting was gorgeous, almost lifelike enough that Rachel felt she could step into it. It also seemed fraught with hidden meaning. Rachel’s eyes kept going to that rope, one end trailing across the soft soiled forest floor and knotted into a loop. She wondered what, or who, had been tied to the tree.

  Even more interesting to her was the vid still photo on the wall to her left. A gorgeous redhead smiled from the portrait, and she held two children on her lap. A boy and girl, looking to be the same age of perhaps two or three years, laughed at whoever had taken the picture.

  Their glossy curls were dark with auburn highlights, and their eyes were pure Kalquorian purple in their bronze faces.

  Rachel wondered how the children she might have with her clan would look. She wondered if Sletran would have the chance to be the father of those children, or if he’d be locked away from her forever.

  She asked Breft, who had settled into his hover chair, “Your family?”

  He looked at the vid, and his tight expression softened. “Yes. I am very fortunate with my Matara and children. They are wonderful.”

  The hint of a smile that played around his lips made Rachel feel a little better about him. He didn’t seem like someone who would torture a person just to hear them scream.

  He turned back to them and his demeanor was that of polite business. “Let's talk about what's going to happen at this point. Maybe it will set your minds at ease.”

  Erybet drew a shuddering breath. “Thank you. I appreciate the kindness.”

  “Not at all.” Breft eyed him carefully. “You and Sletran have been my prime suspects for a few days now. Much of the evidence we've found points to your clan.” He looked over at Conyod. “Imdiko, when was the last time Sletran was around your family's home or your stables?”

  Conyod started at the question. “Four days ago. Why?”

  “The last Matara we found, the one on the beach, had kestarsh hairs on her. That was three days ago.”

  Conyod’s face went pale as death, and for an instant, Rachel thought he might faint. She jumped to her feet. “No!” English failed her at that point, leaving her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She was forced to speak in halting Kalquorian. “Sletran no do it!”

  Erybet and Conyod both stood and put their arms around her. They gently forced her to sit back down.

  While Conyod petted her and murmured soft reassurances, Erybet flicked his gaze towards Breft. “My apologies, Officer.” He sounded anything but apologetic.

  Breft sighed unhappily. “None are required. This is upsetting news, and I expect for you all to have emotional reactions.”

  He bowed his head and considered. “We’re going to run DNA tests on Sletran. We have the killer’s profile, but nothing to match it to. Doing all this will take a few hours. Meanwhile, we are going to keep his arrest as quiet as possible for as long as we can. Suspicion Sletran could be the killer would incite some to make an attempt on his life. If his involvement in the New Bethlehem matter comes to light, we could have a full-scale riot on our hands.”

  Erybet said, “He wants it made public. He wants Kalquor to know he gave the command.”

  Breft shook his head. “You know he will likely be killed, no matter how well we guard him.

  Even if DNA results exonerate him of the murders here, there are still too many who want justice for those women and children on New Bethlehem.”

  Erybet rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. To Rachel, he looked like he’d suddenly aged ten years. “I know his involvement going public will get him attacked. The secrecy is destroying him though. Me too, though not quite as fast or as spectacularly.” He sighed. “After all, I gave him the go ahead to destroy that building. I'm as much to blame as he is. We must tell our story.”

  “You'll be courtmartialed you know. You are under orders.”

  The Dramok snorted. “That is the least of my worries.” Dismissing Breft, he turned to Rachel and Conyod. “You were right, my Imdiko. About everything. I'm sorry, Ray-Ray. I shouldn't have clanned you. You didn’t deserve to be dragged into this.”

  Conyod’s arm lay across Rachel’s shoulders. It lifted slightly as he reached to squeeze Erybet’s arm. Rachel took the Dramok’s hand and she squeezed too. English was still getting stuck in her throat, so she told him in Kalquorian, “You are good man. You do what is right. I am proud to be your Matara.”

  He smiled at that, and lifted her hand to press his lips to it. Rachel returned the smile, fierce intent beating in her heart. No matter what, no matter how bad it got, she wouldn't leave their sides. After all, she was used to fighting lost causes.

  * * * *

  Erybet warmed his chilled soul in the regard of his Imdiko and Matara. For whatever reason, they remained loyal to him. After all the mistakes he’d made; first not telling Conyod what had happened to him and Sletran, then blindly following orders that kept him from getting help for his Nobek, and finally clanning Rachel before getting their lives in order; after all that, they still supported him. Believed in him as their Dramok. By the ancestors, he didn’t deserve these people.

  A deep voice calling his name interrupted his thoughts. “Commander Erybet?”

  Everyone in Breft’s office looked out the door to the admitting area. A big, scarred Nobek was being floated in by three officers, his powerful body held helpless by hovercuffs. His eyes were bright purple, the pupils thin slits that could barely be seen. He didn’t look angry or sexually aroused, but his fangs had descended. Erybet knew the drug use that produced such effects were the least of this man’s problems. Global Security didn’t concern themselves with addicts.

  Erybet rose and went to the door. “Hello, Ubnal. It looks like you've found yourself some trouble.” He stared at the Nobek in horror. Ubnal bore very little resemblance to the strong, proud soldier he’d known.

  The Nobek who’d been one of Sletran’s best foot soldiers grinned around his fangs. His tongue lolled out, dripping saliva on the floor. He pulled his tongue back into his mouth with effort and worked hard to form words. “Nothing but trouble since New Bethlehem, Commander.”

  One of the arresting officers snorted. “Big trouble now that you’ve moved from dealing drugs into the big leagues. Stealing explosives from the armory is going to put you away for a very long time.”

  Ubnal grinned at the officer. One eye leaked a tear. “That’s nothing compared to what I did before I came home.”

  Breft was at Erybet’s shoulder. “You were at New Bethlehem? With Commander Erybet?”

  Ubnal’s head rolled back so he stared at the ceiling. “That's right. Hell and glory … minus the glory part, right Commander?”

  “He served directly under Sletran. One of our best.” Erybet was forced to wonder if someone like Ubnal was in such bad shape, how were the rest of his men? His orders had forbade him to talk to any of them
, except his own Nobek.

  Ubnal continued to talk to the ceiling. “Proud of being one of Commander Erybet's soldiers.

  He's a Dramok, but he knows how to fight a war. Don’t you dare fuck with him, because I’ll kick your ass if he doesn’t do it first.” He laughed, a high, screamy sound that made everyone in hearing distance pause. “I’ll kick your asses, like the shit after the war kicked ours.”

  Erybet was shaking. His mind repeated over and over, How many others? How many others?

  Ubnal laughed again. “Not your fault, Commander. Nor Commander Sletran's. Is he here?”

  Erybet wasn’t sure how it was his lips moved, as he couldn’t think how to use them. “He's around.”

  Breft’s eyes were narrowed as he went up to the prisoner, pulling him down and grabbing his chin so Ubnal was forced to look at him. “I want to know something, Nobek Ubnal. I have a very important question to ask you, so I need you to concentrate hard. Based on what you saw, how did Sletran feel about the massacre?”

  Ubnal drooled on Breft’s hand. “How we all felt, you stupid shit. Like we'd murdered our own mothers and children. High Commander Akrij should never have countermanded his order to abort the mission.”

  Erybet’s world slammed to a halt. He didn’t remember moving; he was suddenly shoving Breft away and grabbing Ubnal’s face in both hands, making the man look at him.

  “It’s all right, let him do this,” Breft said from right behind him. Erybet barely noticed that the officers who had been reaching for him immediately stepped back. All his attention was on the drugged Nobek in front of him.

  “What do you mean, Akrij countermanded Sletran's order?”

  Ubnal struggled to focus on him. He blinked slowly and Erybet had the urge to slap him until he answered. Fortunately, some of the dazedness left the man’s eyes. “You didn't know?

  When Commander Sletran commed the order to abort, that there were women and children in the building, the high commander told Wen the target was confirmed and to set off the explosives.”

  Erybet felt the earth beneath him shift. “And then?”

  Ubnal shrugged. “Wen couldn't disobey a direct order from the high commander, could he?

  The poor bastard killed himself a month after we got back, you know. I found out because he commed me a message just before he did it. Disobeyed the no-contact orders, but no one can bring him up on charges now.”

  “I didn't know he died.” Erybet wanted the room to stop rocking around him. It was making him nauseous.

  Ubnal smiled tiredly. “Damned shame. He was a good fighter. You know, we should have all died on New Bethlehem.”

  The Nobek lost consciousness, as whatever he’d ingested overwhelmed his system. Erybet was only dimly aware of Breft taking his arm and leading him back into his office, where wide-eyed Conyod and Rachel waited to wrap their arms around him.

  Erybet stared at Rachel. She’d warned him someone had deliberately set Sletran up. She’d been right.

  But why?

  Breft’s voice brought him back a moment later. Erybet was still standing, though now he was in front of the officer’s desk. His clanmates were holding onto him, their faces worried as they looked at him. Breft sat across from them behind his desk once more.

  Erybet forced his stunned mind to kick back into gear. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Patiently, Breft repeated, “It sounds like you and your Nobek weren't directly to blame for the slaughter after all.”

  Erybet simply looked at him. He couldn’t find a response to that.

  Breft waited a moment, then spoke again. “I’ve met Akrij. In fact, I questioned him and his Dramok about you after Matara Maria disappeared. What was a high commander doing on the ground as part of an attack group?”

  “He likes to be in the thick of things. He fights at his men’s sides when possible. That day, Sletran led one team, and he led the other. But Sletran was left in command of the group.”

  Erybet’s responses were on automatic pilot. His mind churned, turning over everything he knew about the attack.

  It had been Akrij who the informants and the spies in charge of confirming all information reported to. Erybet had never spoken to those people. No one but Akrij did. Their names were not known to anyone else.

  It had been Akrij who had given Erybet the green light to plan the attack on the building.

  He had told him and Sletran that it was the headquarters of the last remnants of the Earther resistance. That they had to utterly destroy the enemy, make an example of them. The insurgents had killed too many, including their own people. No shockwaves to immobilize them for capture. No prisoners, because their sentence of execution had been passed. The murderers would die in their lair.

  And afterward, when all those innocent people had died, it was Akrij who had told him he and Sletran were not to speak of what had happened to anyone under any circumstances. That they would not even have contact with their own men, lest something slip out in the wrong company. They were told to go home and recover.

  It was all there right in front of Erybet, and yet he still couldn’t fathom it. Akrij was the best high commander in the military, second only to the Imperial Commander. Everyone knew his bravery and loyalty were unmatched. His men loved him with the fierceness of those who would lay down their lives for such a leader.

  Raxstad poked his head in the door. He told Breft, “You've got visitors. Emperors Bevau and Clajak.”

  Erybet’s blood ran cold at his words. Imperial Commander Bevau would learn he’d committed treason by admitting the whole horrible affair at New Bethlehem. While Erybet could have cared less about being arrested by the military police and brought up on charges, he didn’t want that to happen now. Not when Sletran needed him. Because when the Nobek found out Akrij might have betrayed them, might have actually knowingly had them kill those innocents…

  Through the roar in his ears, he heard Breft say, “Go ahead and show the emperors in.

  Erybet, your clan can stay. I want the emperors to hear what has been going on from your end of things.”

  Raxstad had more to report. “Sletran's asking to go ahead with hypnosis so we can find out what he's been up to during his blank periods.”

  Breft eyed Erybet. “Dramok?”

  The mention of his Nobek’s name had cut through some of the chaos in Erybet’s head. He nodded. “That's fine. If he’s willing to do it, I give leave.”

  Raxstad said, “I'll have someone come in from the hospital.”

  Breft said, “Get Lidon's Imdiko, if you can. He's certified, plus he's used to military protocols and mindsets.”

  “He’s kind of – funny, don’t you think?”

  Breft arched a brow. “He’s professional when it’s called for. I’m sure Degorsk will appreciate the gravity of the situation, but you can have Lidon remind him of it.”

  Raxstad jerked a nod and looked at Rachel. “Your Nobek is doing fine, Matara. He's being very cooperative.”

  Rachel gave him a surprised look. Erybet knew she didn’t trust enforcement officers, and every time one was nice to her, she seemed unsettled. However she did manage a graceful,

  “Thank you.”

  The big Nobek left. Erybet stood there, looking at nothing.

  Akrij…

  Conyod tugged on his arm. “Erybet, sit down. You're in shock.”

  He stared at his Imdiko. “Akrij went on with the attack even though Sletran was screaming there were women and children in the building. He let us think—”

  He couldn’t finish the sentence. Akrij had let them think that there had been a com breakdown on his end that kept him from aborting the attack. He’d shut up everyone to keep them from discussing it. Sletran had been blaming himself all this time. Erybet had kept silent, not just because of the order to do so, but because if the public knew Sletran had been in direct, physical command of the men who’d killed so many women and children, he’d be lynched.

  Akrij.

 
Conyod pushed Erybet into a chair. “Sit. Everything is going to be all right.”

  Erybet was awash in sudden, impotent rage. His Nobek had suffered horribly and for no good reason. His mental health had disintegrated, perhaps to the point of lashing out at others.

  Maybe Sletran was the Beast of New Bethlehem after all, madness taking away all the goodness he’d once possessed. All because they’d trusted a man who had fought at their sides, who’d promised time and again he’d take care of them and keep them safe.

  At this moment, Erybet couldn't imagine how anything would ever be all right again.

  Chapter 17

  Imdiko Degorsk was used to not being taken seriously by those who were little more than acquaintances. When stressed, he reacted one of two ways: by cursing profusely and hurling insults, or more often by joking. His conduct usually left others confused or irritated, especially the fierce Nobek breed. That he’d been specifically requested by Breft to hypnotize and question a suspected mass murderer was gratifying. Not to mention unsettling. He’d had no idea his Nobek’s superior officer was so impressed with him.

  He’d even been granted immediate entry into Global Security simply by showing up. The guard at the entrance had barely looked at his identification, overriding the computer system to speed him through. Someone was in a hurry to close the case that had kept Lidon working long hours for the last few months.

  Degorsk could well understand the haste. Mataras were dying.

  He found the interrogation wing and was directed down a utilitarian hall. Lidon stood by one open doorway, and out of habit, Degorsk looked over his stance to see if he favored his scarred leg. Of course the Nobek missed nothing. He raised an eyebrow at Degorsk, eliciting a grin. A dozen teasing remarks leapt to the Imdiko’s tongue, but for once he kept them to himself. He’d never embarrass his clanmate at work unless Lidon deserved it.