Between Darkness and Light (Sholan Alliance)

by Lisanne Norman

Shocked and stunned by her answer, he let her go and turned away. M’kou? Why would M’kou do something like that to him? It was totally out of character. He needed to think. Ignoring her, he walked out of the treatment room as the medic on duty, running to see what was happening, skidded to a stop in the corridor and cowered against the wall as he went past.

  His wrist comm was buzzing but he barely heard it as he wandered blindly down one corridor, then another. When he finally came to his senses he was outside his quarters. Punching in the code, he went in and headed for the dispenser to get coffee—strong coffee.

  He needed to think, he had to think this through. It was inconceivable that M’kou would do something like this. He was almost a classic by-the-book person, following his orders to the letter—or was he? Taking his drink, he perched on one of the high stools at the meal bar and spooned in the whitener and sweetener, stirring it carefully, making almost a ritual of the simple, familiar tasks.

  M’kou appeared to be by-the-book, but he wasn’t. There was that time he’d warned him that Banner intended to ask for Shaidan to go to other members of his crew rather than him—there had been no reason for the warning except to help him. There had been other times, too, now he came to think of it, so what would make M’kou set up something like this? Had the young Lieutenant really believed he was acting in his and Doctor Zayshul’s interests, or had he done it at Kezule’s request?

  This was what Zayshul had been hiding! The anger began to return as he remembered how anxious she’d been to reach Kezule—to warn him, no doubt! Whether or not Kezule had ordered M’kou to do it, all three of them knew about it and had been involved either in setting it up, or preventing him from finding out who the female was!

  He’d been cynically used and manipulated once again by them, including Zayshul! It hurt, Gods, but it hurt more than he wanted to admit that she’d kept the truth from him, that she’d betrayed him again, but it would be for the last time. He drained his mug, slamming it down on the counter with such force that it smashed, and got to his feet.

  Banner was right, he’d been both a fool and manipulated. No Valtegans, be they Primes or Ch’ almuthians, could ever be trusted. They were leaving now, and Shaidan was going with them. Their Gods help anyone who stood in his way this time, whether here or on Shola. The damned treaty with the Primes needed to be exposed for the sham it was.

  He checked his wrist comm: Shaidan would be up on the hydroponics level with the TeLaxaudin now, and so were Kezule and the rest of his crew.

  Cold rage flooded through him as he headed for the bathing room and began unpacking the components of the la’quo gun.

  K’oish’ik, barracks cells, same day

  Shamgar was standing looking out of the reinforced window into the barrack’s exercise yard when they heard distant footsteps marching along the corridor.

  “Sounds like they finally learned how to march in step,” he said.

  “Wonder who they’re coming for,” said Vaygan lazily from where he was reclining on his simple one-piece metal cot. “Us, or them.”

  “Ask them,” said Shamgar.

  Reaching out behind him, Vaygan banged on the wall. “Hey, Khay, they coming for you today?”

  “No, not that we know of,” said Khayikule from the other side of the wall.

  “How’s Cheelar? He had any treatment yet?”

  “Doesn’t need it. He’s gone into laalgo—a deep healing trance.”

  “Handy. It’s a biofeedback thing?”

  “A fair translation,” agreed the Prime. “We go into a deep trance then trigger internal organs that help us to heal very quickly. It requires larger amounts of food, though, as we burn up stored fats to do it. And, of course, we’re extremely vulnerable during that time.”

  Suddenly there were two loud raps on the wall.

  “The guards are coming down here,” said Vaygan quietly to the Ambassador. “Remember what we told you, Fingoh. If they question you, tell them everything they ask, and try not to show fear.”

  The Ambassador nodded, ears flattening out of sight.

  “He’ll do fine,” said Shamgar reassuringly, turning to watch the cell door. “You know, Fingoh, you’ll be able to dine out for years on the strength of the stories of what you’ve experienced here.”

  “At least they gave us our tunics back,” said Shamgar, brushing imagined dust specks off the stains on it.

  “How do you do it?” Fingoh asked, his voice taut with fear. “How can you make jokes at times like this?”

  Aware of the footsteps nearing, Shamgar came over to the Ambassador and crouched down on his haunches in front of him. “It’s how we cope,” he said quietly. “If you laugh, it doesn’t let the fear take hold. It’s there, Fingoh, but we control it, it doesn’t control us.”

  He stood up as they heard their door being unlocked. “Vartra preserve us,” he muttered as they caught their first sight of their captors.

  A head taller than them, and bulking about half as much again, these were the largest Primes they’d ever seen. Unfastened black jackets, probably at least a couple of sizes too small, trimmed with enough gold braid to decorate a room for the winter festival, were worn over ordinary faded trousers. The attempt at a uniform would have been amusing except for the head perched above it on a neck as thick as Shamgar’s thigh.

  The forehead and scalp had been tattooed with the lurid image of a decapitated head, blood running from the severed neck and empty eye sockets, the lips pulled back from the needle sharp teeth in an obvious scream of agony.

  “Face the wall,” the Prime ordered in a deep and gravelly voice, his rifle aimed at them as he and a companion came into the room.

  Shamgar helped Fingoh to his feet and led him over to join Vaygan.

  “Hands behind your back,” snapped the other.

  Metal restraints were put on their wrists, then they were herded out into the corridor where two other guards waited.

  In silence, they left the prison block and entered a narrow, dimly lit corridor. This part of the City belonged to the Palace staff as it served the barracks, kitchens, and other utility areas never seen by the Royal Court, but as soon as they entered the public area and the pillared portico, that changed. Exquisitely painted bas-relief carvings of a procession of people bearing elaborate gifts covered the walls on both sides, though they had little chance to take them in as they were hurried through the room to the staircase opposite.

  At the top of the stairs, another corridor with similar scenes led them to the wider main one. This they knew led to the Great Hall and throne room.

  “Smells better than it did last time,” Shamgar muttered to Vaygan only to receive a blow from the butt of a rifle in the small of his back.

  “Silence!”

  He staggered and had to be caught by the guard as he fell.

  The Great Hall, and the throne room beyond it, were brightly illuminated giving the impression of one huge room. Clustered beyond the pillars they could see the Courtiers. Beyond them, the Throne of Light itself glittered and shone in the glow from the reflected lights.

  When they reached the pillars, Shamgar’s arm was again grasped by the guard beside him. Aware of their presence, the Courtiers fell back, gradually opening a path for them that led to the throne. Fear was palpable on their faces and in the air.

  His attention focused on the identity of the male sitting in the throne, Shamgar was taken by surprise when he heard a sharp intake of breath from Vaygan, and a cry of horror from Fingoh. Then he saw what lay at the feet of the new Emperor.

  Before he could react, his legs were kicked and he was thrust to the ground as a voice called out, “Kneel at the feet of the living God-King, Emperor K’hedduk!”

  As his gorge rose, he swallowed convulsively and stared at the red carpet beneath his knees, desperately not wanting to see the remains of Tokidi and Shi’Kui, not wanting to even think about what had been done to them. He risked a glance to his right, seeing Fingoh between him and Vaygan.


  “Say nothing,” he hissed as quietly as he could, only to receive another sharp kick from his guard.

  “I see you’ve noticed my new floor coverings, Ambassador Fingoh,” said the Emperor smoothly. “Handsome, aren’t they? An improvement on the originals, in my opinion.”

  Shamgar heard a sigh, then a thump as Fingoh collapsed beside him.

  “I don’t think the Sholan Ambassador approves,” said the Emperor.

  A ripple of nervous laughter ran through the crowd.

  Shamgar tried to concentrate on the name K’hedduk. He knew he’d heard it somewhere before.

  “Wake him,” the Emperor ordered sharply.

  He heard footsteps running away, then back, and the sudden spray of cold water as it splashed from Fingoh onto him. The Ambassador was hauled spluttering up to his knees.

  “Try to stay awake, Ambassador,” said Emperor K’hedduk. “I had you brought here to tell you that the presence of Sholans on our world will no longer be tolerated, and to return this to you.”

  Shamgar had to look up now, but he kept his eyes averted from the horrific sight of the pelts, complete with heads, of his two comrades.

  A red-robed Prime, his chest decorated with some insignia on a gold chain, was walking toward Fingoh carrying a small round tray. He groaned inwardly, wondering what new horror was on it, but when the Prime reached them and tipped the contents onto the floor, only scraps of paper fluttered down.

  “That is the treaty that the traitor known as Q’emgo’h signed with your people.” The tone was hard now. “I have revoked it. You will be released only when Prince Zsurtul is returned to us. A message to this effect has already been sent to Shola. Until then, you will remain in the prison as our guests.”

  He heard the sound of running from behind him, and a voice growing closer as it cried out, “They’re gone! The TeLaxaudin have vanished!”

  “What?” The Emperor’s tone was one of shocked disbelief. “They can’t have gone! Search the city for them! And get rid of these stinking Sholans!”

  They were hauled to their feet and hustled out of the throne room.

  Shamgar waited till they’d been released and the door locked behind them before he gave vent to his feelings.

  “May L’Shoh damn him to His darkest, fieriest pit of hell! Vartra’s bones, he had them skinned and turned into floor coverings ! Including their heads! What kind of barbaric animal is he? I pray they weren’t still alive when he did it!”

  “I doubt they were alive at the time, Shamgar,” said Vaygan soothingly, reaching out to take him by the shoulder. “Leave it alone. They’re past caring now, thank Vartra.”

  “I recognized his name,” said Fingoh quietly, sitting down on his bed.

  “They had no right to desecrate their bodies,” raged Shamgar, oblivious, as he thumped his hand against the cell wall. “It’s barbaric, uncivilized!”

  “I know who he is!” repeated Fingoh, raising his voice.

  “Shamgar, stop it!” said Vaygan, shaking him. “Listen to Fingoh. He knows who this new Emperor is.”

  “Who?” demanded Shamgar, brushing his forearm across his eyes.

  “K’hedduk from the Directorate. They never found his body after Kezule foiled the last coup. Now we know why.”

  “It can’t be!”

  “Ask Khay,” said Fingoh. “They know all about it.”

  “We heard,” came Khay’s slightly muffled voice from the next cell. “We weren’t involved in that. I remained in the Palace guarding the Emperor. What did he look like?”

  Shamgar looked at Fingoh. “I can’t tell them apart well enough,” he whispered.

  “More like your coloring, not quite the usual sandier Prime color,” said Fingoh. “The ridges on his head were fairly pronounced.”

  “That’s K’hedduk,” confirmed Khay. “My brother M’kou did send a description of him to me before they left here. You have our sympathy for the fate of your friends,” he added somberly.

  “The Directorate strikes again,” said Vaygan softly.

  “K’hedduk tore up the treaty between us,” said Shamgar, moving closer to the door so he didn’t have to raise his voice too high. “He wants Prince Zsurtul in exchange for us.”

  “Will Shola hand him over?” asked Khay after a short silence.

  “No,” said Vaygan. “They won’t. He’s as much our best hope as yours.”

  “What will happen to us?” asked Fingoh quietly.

  “Shola will delay and prevaricate, hoping to keep us alive for long enough to mount a reprisal action,” said Shamgar.

  “Not all of us were killed or captured, Shamgar,” said Khay quietly. “Our brother Zhookah had a unit on maneuvers in space and I managed to get a message off to them. They’ll go for the General.”

  “May our Gods smile on us,” said Shamgar fervently. “Let’s pray we can all stay alive till then!”

  “Why are they keeping you, Khay?” asked Vaygan.

  Khay laughed bitterly. “For the same reason the Primes wanted our father—breeding stock. It’s our sister Shiya I’m concerned for.”

  “It’ll cost them dear if they come near me,” said Shiya with a hiss of anger.

  “The Gods help you, djana,” said Vaygan with feeling.

  “Did you notice there were no females there, none at all? And the Empress’ throne was missing?” said Fingoh.

  “K’hedduk wants to restore the old Empire,” said Khay. “That includes retaking all the slave worlds, and returning females to harems. He’ll be looking for a treaty with M’zull now.”

  “He has got to be stopped,” said Shamgar.

  “I know,” agreed Khay.

  “The TeLaxaudin have vanished,” said Vaygan, suddenly remembering.

  “What?”

  “They’ve gone. Could they have escaped?”

  “Who knows? They’re a strange species, very secretive. In my time here in charge of Palace Security, I hardly ever saw them.”

  “Someone’s coming!” they heard Kho’ikk hiss urgently.

  CHAPTER 19

  Kij’ik, hydroponics level, same day

  “HOW’D the chat go?” asked Khadui, glancing at Banner as he came to stand beside him and Jayza at the railing overlooking the first field area.

  “We move tonight,” he said, his voice low but angry as he leaned on the rail, apparently as relaxed as they were. “In the mess, when we have Shaidan and Dzaou there as well.”

  Jayza leaned forward to look from Banner to Khadui. “Move? What am I missing here?” he asked quietly.

  “Brief him when you get the chance, Khadui,” said Banner.

  “Aye, Lieutenant,” said Khadui with a sigh.

  “What is it?” demanded Jayza, his whole body tensing.

  “Relax, dammit, Jayza,” said Banner, turning his face away from the group of Primes under Q’almo and M’kou who were briefing the new Ch’almuthian trainees. “They can read our body language. The Captain’s lost it, I’m taking over as of tonight.”

  As he spoke, the lights flickered briefly, then dimmed before returning to normal, making everyone automatically look up at the ceiling high above.

  “Might as well brief him yourself,” said Khadui. “Looks like we’ve got a few minutes now. Kezule’s just arrived. Maybe we’ll find out where he went in such a hurry.”

  Banner glanced round to see the General open the fence gate and go over to M’kou.

  “Khadui’s been helping me set this up,” he said quietly, turning back. “I’ll start some power failures, apparently random ones, just before third meal. First will be the internal address system, so they’ll not be able to reach the departments they want, followed by blackouts. One will eventually take out the mess, at which point Dzaou will join us and I’ll knock Kusac out with a trank. You’ll take Shaidan and we’ll make our way under cover of the blackout to the elevator. From there we head for the landing bay and the shuttle and take off.”

  “We’ve made one-shot stunners,” s
aid Khadui. “If we meet resistance, we use them and take their guns. I’ve also got a couple of homemade smoke canisters.”

  Jayza stared at them for a moment. “We know these people,” he said. “We’ve become friends with them. And I don’t believe the Captain’s lost it. Why do we have to do this? Surely we can wait three weeks.”

  “If we don’t do it tonight, Kusac intends to have Kezule send us home without him and Shaidan,” said Banner quietly, turning away from them to look back at the small knot of Primes about thirty feet away. “Vartra knows, I don’t want to hurt anyone, Jayza, but I can’t let Kusac do that.”

  “I understand, Lieutenant,” said Jayza.

  “Meet in my room half an hour before third meal,” said Banner. “Bring any weapon you’ve made that’s small enough to conceal on your person. We’ll finalize it then.”

  Banner heard Zayshul, followed by Shaidan, come out of the Security post in front of the TeLaxaudin’s office and watched as they hurried through the gate and across to Kezule.

  “I also want us away from here before Kezule finds out our Captain and his wife are having an affair.” He sensed Jayza’s reaction and looked at him. “You knew. When did you intend to tell me?”

  Jayza tried to outstare him and failed. “He’s as entitled to his privacy as any of us,” he said, looking away.

  “Not when it threatens all of us,” said Khadui before Banner could. He shook his head sadly. “There were others interested in him, choosing her was foolish.”

  “Kezule wants us,” interrupted Banner, moving back, ready to leap the fence. “Remember, act normal.”

  “I hear Q’almo is conducting this session himself,” said Kezule, clasping his hands behind his back.

  “It’s time your commandos took on the responsibility for training, General,” replied Banner. “We’ll still be monitoring the situation and giving advice where needed, of course.”

  Kezule nodded. “What’s happening today?”

  Banner looked across at Q’almo, standing a few feet away with his group of five, made up of four Ch’almuthians and another of his brothers.