by Ann Durand
In a flash Askinadon was gone. The former ruler and god of Parallon…gone.
Nik erpen pan yana. Not for wasting farewells.
Satisfied, Katera slipped out the gate, leaned back against the stone wall, and drew in a long breath. She wanted to think alone while she had the chance.
Everything was different now. Her people were no longer subject to Askinadon's rule. For the first time in ten years, they would be free to create a new government, elect new leaders. The prospect of peace, the opportunity for everyone in Parallon to thrive, had arrived.
Katera pictured the happy hubbub of busy roads filled with merchants in hoshdel-pulled wagons on their way to the market, young children skipping off to school, the older ones to work. It would be like it used to be-the way she remembered it as a child. Shops would open as free enterprise blossomed in their village. Teenagers would soak up new skills working as apprentices under master tradesmen. Schools would spring up to teach young people math, agriculture, and religion…the old religion. And the language-they would learn the language of Lupana once again. Men and women would fall in love freely-and marry. What bliss-no one coerced to take a mate. Those days were gone forever.
Katera sighed to think of it. Families growing, the village expanding, maybe even into neighboring meadows. Her parents would not want to leave Parallon now. The Parallon of old was back, the one they cherished. They would want her to stay, too, with Rorken of course, and pick up their lives in a world they remembered and loved. For them, Mikolen's offer to escape to the future was no longer attractive or necessary.
She would have to stay. It was her duty. That much was clear. Her family needed her, especially after losing Adrella-they would need her desperately. And she needed them, but what did that mean for her and Mikolen? Would he leave Parallon…and her? She didn't think she could endure his absence from her life. With a certainty that tugged at her heartstrings, she knew she belonged with him. She could no longer deny it-she needed him, too.
The choice seemed too impossible to consider. It made her head throb and she squeezed her eyes, trying to shut out the pain. How could she have it both ways? Maybe she could convince Mikolen to quit his dream and stay-to live with her and Rorken and Mama and Papa here in Parallon…but would he be willing to give up the home he had worked so hard to get back to? Would he abandon the Silver Gate after working on it for ten long years? Even if he did, how long could he ignore his home when he had the capability to propel himself back to it? Home…a place where everything would be familiar and comfortable for him-a place where he belonged. Did she even dare ask him to consider such a sacrifice?
Oh, Mikolen. Ne mana ya, ne mana ya. There was no mistaking how she felt anymore. She was in love, and her heart ached to think that she might lose him.
Chapter Twenty
Mike turned away after Askins dropped to the ground, a jagged hole yawning in the place where his arm had been. Tim Tonnelly and Jim Morchison, the former Kastaks, laughed coarsely and pointed as they worked the winches, throwing their weight into the cranks to feed the rocsadon more chain, giving it plenty of room to attack. Mike walked behind the Kastaks to wait until it was over. He didn't care to watch. His turned his thoughts to Katera.
She had a lot to think about. So did he. Though he'd been pleased to announce the liberation of Parallon from Askins' tyranny, a sinking feeling told him that Katera and her family would want to stay and build a new Parallon. There was much to do, and they'd want to help, of course. Phenomenal growth would grip the village in a happy frenzy for years to come-there'd be remodeling and the construction of new schools, markets, government buildings for the elders, libraries for their primitive books, healing houses for the sick. And they'd build new homes everywhere as their numbers grew.
A variety of jobs to sustain the infrastructure would arise, as well, with work flourishing for architects and masons, leaders and politicians, judges and men of law, herbal doctors and medicine men, teachers, artisans and tradesmen. The idea of immersing themselves in all that activity would be irresistible for Katera and her family, as it would be for all Parallonians. Hell, even Mike wanted to stay and help. To be truthful, however, he had another reason, a far more powerful reason, for wanting to stay.
The reason had green eyes and long hair that tumbled, soft and dark in voluptuous curls down a pair of delicate arms. The reason moved with the grace of a meadow doe. The reason had breath that smelled like the sweet sap of the ripened lidala vine. And every time the reason smiled, Mike felt his heart thump, as if this were the reason he'd been born.
Mike sighed. How had it come to this? It used to be so simple. He'd had a mission with nothing to distract him, but after meeting Katera, he'd lost something…what was it? His momentum-he'd lost his momentum. His motivation had screeched to a grinding halt. Good thing the project was nearly complete, except for the EM Sphere. He fingered the slippery orb in his pocket. He doubted he would have built Silver Gate if he'd met Katera first. Damn. Without any effort his heart had taken over and made the stargate less important than…her. When did that happen? At what point, exactly, did he start wanting to be wherever she was? He wasn't sure. He only knew that he felt willing to give it up-all the years of waiting and building and pilfering materials and supplies-the whole stargate dream…willing to quit it just to be with her.
So, how much better did that make him than Askins? Askins had made his involvement with the people more important than the mission. He'd done the unthinkable-he'd interfered in a negative fashion. He'd used his knowledge to enslave an entire people. Mike was on a mission, too. In his mind, he heard the oath that every scientist at Tescali Lab had chanted dutifully before the board and its members. They'd been sworn in one at a time after agreeing to work on Project Stargate. The words to the pledge drifted through his head like an old recording:
I swear upon my life that I shall uphold all values of integrity and esteem held dear by the members of Tescali Laboratory and the Board of Directors. If I travel to other places in time, in reverence of all people, I hereby swear not to interfere. I will collect data and evidence and bring it back to the Tescali Laboratory in 2275 AD, or the equivalent present time as soon as possible for the purpose of study and scholarly reflection. I swear to leave all people and their civilizations intact, exactly as I find them, except to advert calamity or disaster instigated by myself or another member of Tescali Laboratory, either willfully or accidentally. I will keep my purpose and mission in mind at all times: to 1) bring back evidence that substantiates a successful traverse through time, 2) practice peaceful non-interference with any cultures, past or future, and 3) return promptly to Tescali Laboratory when the mission is complete.
True, he hadn't traveled through time by choice; he'd been abducted by a madman. Ten years had passed since he'd been home, but did that diminish his purpose? He had built Silver Gate to keep good his oath and return to the lab with the data. His allegiance to the men and women of Tescali was sealed, and he would not break his word. He had no choice. He had to go home, back to his time. He could not abandon the plan that others had entrusted to him. Especially after Askins' betrayal.
Nor could he forget that he had a duty to perform in the name of the seven murdered scientists-his friends-a duty to return and report everything. Their widows and widowers deserved to know the truth. As it dawned on him what he must do, he understood this would end the budding romance between him and Katera. He must forget all hope of a life with her. The thought of it snagged him like a spear to his gut, and he clutched his chest. He had to get through this. He must somehow get through this. He had a duty to perform. He would force himself through it, step by numbing step.
The sudden absence of screams told Mike that the rocsadon had finished its dirty business. He turned to see Morchison and Tonnelly tethering the animal as it swayed back and forth on the chains, looking extremely agitated. Probably too much suderik. Reluctantly, Mike allowed the former Kastaks to follow him outside the pen to join Kater
a. As Morchison and Tonnelly recanted the gorging of the rocsadon play by play, Mike realized that eventually he was going to have to deal with these two. There was no place for them in a free society, neither here nor back home. When he brought them back to Earth 2275, he'd have to notify the authorities and have them arrested. Their crimes against humanity were relevant in both Parallon and his world.
As he rounded the corner, his eyes met Katera's, and he knew from the slight redness that she'd been crying. He felt the pain in her heart with a jolt in his own. She looked lost, as if she didn't know what to do. Was she worried about her family? Her future? Was she grieving for Adrella? Whatever was causing her anguish, he wanted to make it stop.
"Katera, I…" He pulled her to him and tucked his chin over her head. A strangled noise fell out of her throat, as if it was all too much. "Don't worry. There are wonderful things ahead for you and your family. You will heal in time. You will thrive and live a long, long life."
Katera looked up at him, her eyes spilling over. "Mikolen, my family will want me to stay in Parallon with them and Rorken."
"I know." He forced himself to speak softly, though he wanted to shout from the pit of his stomach: Don't leave me!
"But I don't want to stay without…you, Mikolen."
Mike lurched in surprise. What was she saying? Did she mean it? Was she suggesting that she leave her family to go with him? On wings of soaring hope, he grabbed both her hands.
"Then come with me," he whispered, turning his back on Morchison and Tonnelly. "Come with me to my world, and I will take care of you for the rest of our lives together." Mike cupped her hands inside his and pulled them to his chest. "Katera..."
He wanted to ask her…what? Oh, God, that was it. He searched her eyes. Ah, those eyes. The color of sea waves backlit by the sun. What he would give to bring this promise of happiness with him! He would do it now…yes. He would ask her to marry him, right now. He would tell her that he loved her, that he would love her always. Even with Morchison and Tonnelly standing two feet behind him, he was ready to say it. There was no time to search for the right place, the perfect moment. If he didn't say it, she might be lost to him forever. He was ready…but she was pulling away. What?
"Mikolen…" He saw the look in her eyes and with a flash of understanding, let go of her hands. His hopes plummeted. "Please, I must stay here. I cannot leave Parallon." She reached out a hand and placed it over his heart. " You stay here with me ."
Mike thought his heart couldn't plunge any lower, but it dropped through the bottoms of his feet.
"I cannot," he said, "I…"
His mouth froze open. He knew he should explain-he should say more, but he could not find the proper words. No words existed to describe the desolation he was feeling.
"Stay with me," Katera repeated. "Stay with me and help us rebuild Parallon. Stay."
That was impossible, but Mike could not bring himself to tell her. He swallowed hard and drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her slender frame. He held her tightly, afraid to let go. Behind him, Morchison and Tonnelly were whispering and shifting. He had no desire to surrender this moment. Katera must have felt the same way, because she was tightening her grip around his neck. He heard a muffled sob, her head buried in his chest, and he pressed his lips into the top of her head, feeding on her desperation and offering his own.
Too soon, he felt a rough hand on his shoulder, and Morchison's gravelly voice, thick with suspicion.
"Hey! C'mon. We gotta go. You promised us a trip back home. Remember?"
Reluctantly, Mike loosened his grip on Katera and turned to face Morchison. "Do we have some kind of emergency? You've already been here for ten years. Do you think you can handle another five minutes?"
Morchison glowered, his eyes hardening. Mike turned back to Katera. Her eyes were glued on his.
"Stay," she repeated.
Mike cupped her chin with his hand. How was he going break the news? How did one present such a final farewell? Well, Katera, not only must I leave, but this'll be it for us, so please don't wait for me. You'll grow old and gray without me.
He wanted to turn away, avoid the pleading look in her eyes. She looked so…hopeful. He searched his brain for any vestige of an idea that would keep them together, but he could see no way out of this one. The oath was clear. Since calamity and disaster were no longer driving the lives of her family, he could not justify staying in Parallon-the policy of non-interference was etched in granite. He had to go.
"Katera," he began.
The pain exploded on the side on his head as something hard and cold connected with his skull.
He heard Katera scream as he stumbled sideways into the dirt. He landed in a pile on the ground and looked up, stunned. Morchison was holding a short length of chain, which he must have plucked from the rocsadon's den and hidden in the satchel he carried with him. Mike's hand went to the searing heat in his head and pulled away blood-smeared fingers.
What? Why would he? He needs me; I'm his ticket home. In the next instant, he understood. He thinks I'm going to stay in Parallon with Katera; he thinks I won't take him back to our time.
In the same moment, he realized Katera was in danger. If Morchison wanted to force him to do something, Katera would be the natural pawn. He sprang to his feet with a howl, ready to lunge, his back hunched and knees bent cat-like, but it was too late. Tonnelly had snatched Katera around the neck and was brandishing a long, thin knife under her chin, forcing her head up. A look of disbelief spread over her features.
"Throw your knife down," Morchison commanded. "Now!"
"Let her go," Mike said, lifting his knife from its sheath and tossing it on the ground in front of Morchison. "Let her go, and I'll give you whatever you want. But I swear, if you hurt her-if you damage one single hair, you'll never see 2275 AD or anything like it again…ever."
"Calm down, Leno," Morchison said, as Tonnelly scooped up the knife. "You get us back to the future, and she'll be just fine. Nothing's changed-nothing at all-we've just secured a
little insurance for the plan. You can bring your little wench to the future with you, if you want."
"Trust me, you'll have no plan if you hurt her." Mike glanced at Katera, who seemed to have recovered from her surprise and was narrowing her eyes at Morchison.
"I'm not going with you to your world," she told him.
Morchison cast a fleeting look in her direction and turned away wearing a wan smile, as if to dismiss her. His gaze settled back on Mike.
"The wench wants to stay, Leno. She doesn't want to go with you." Morchison paused to let this sink in. Mike's jaw tensed. "Why in the world would we want to take her back with us anyway? She'll only make a stink about our involvement here, probably tell them we hurt people or some other ridiculous story."
"You did hurt people," Katera hissed.
"Shut up, whore!" Morchison bellowed in her direction. Blood rushed to his face, turning his cheeks a deep, blotchy rose. "You were not given permission to speak." Mike watched Katera fall silent, but she did not shrink from Morchison's gaze. "When I want you to say something, you'll know it."
"Hey!" Mike yelled, drawing Morchison's attention away from Katera. "You want my help? Then leave her alone."
Morchison grinned, showing a cracked front tooth.
"Sure thing, Leno." Morchison held up his empty hand. "I won't hurt her if you deliver. Promise."
Mike had no doubt that Morchison and Tonnelly would hurt them and dispose of their bodies as easily as they'd chuck the shell of a nut…if they didn't need him. That, and that alone would keep them alive. The man had the compassion of a rocsadon with a toothache, he thought bitterly as Morchison motioned for him to start down the trail. As he moved onto the path that led down the mountain, he heard Tonnelly command Katera to stand still. Mike spun around to see Tonnelly tugging on a secured knot in a length of rope that bound her wrists behind her back.
"Keep moving and keep your eyes forward," Morchison ordered
, nudging Mike from behind with a long stick. "One wrong move, and Tonnelly's going to cut something off that little beauty of yours. Maybe just a finger or a toe, but who knows? If you want to play it safe, I think you'd better keep walking."
Ignoring him, Mike waited, watching Katera as she winced from the tightened bindings. Morchison slapped the stick against the side of Mike's face. Mike grabbed the end of it and yanked. Morchison, his balance upset, let go of the stick and stumbled forward. Mike tossed the stick and leaped into Morchison at the level of his solar plexus, propelling them both onto the ground. Sucking up a mouthful of dust, Mike rolled with Morchison in a violent tangle of limbs and fists.
Then he heard her scream.
Mike shot a stunned look in Katera's direction and froze in ice-edged horror. She'd been turned around so that her bound hands were exposed to him. And, oh, God, they were a bloody mess. He couldn't see the problem at first, and then Tonnelly flung something small at him. It landed with a plop in the dirt a few feet away…something pink, bloody, now caked with dust.
Damn. It was her finger. Her pinky, he thought, though it was too bloody to be sure. His mind reeling, he rolled over and scooped it up as Morchison scrambled to his feet. As soon as Morchison was erect, he kicked Mike sharply in his stomach. Mike slammed his knees into his chest, cringing from the pain, the finger pressed inside his fist like a precious jewel. He held himself as tight as a ball while the kicks and blows rained upon him.
When Morchison had spent his anger, Mike opened back up and heard Katera's sobs. He wanted to tell her he was all right, but Morchison was forcing him to his feet, and Mike's mouth was full of something…blood. He spat it out and heard Katera sob again.
"Keep walking or she loses another digit," Morchison said. This time, Mike obeyed.
They moved down the trail a few hundred yards to the hoshdels' barn and corral. Tonnelly saddled up a hoshdel for Katera while Morchison grabbed a spear leaning against the fence. Tonnelly bandaged Katera's wound with some cloth to stop the bleeding, then tossed her like a sack of potatoes over the hoshdel's withers onto her stomach, her tied hands stretched behind her. It had to hurt.