Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1)

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Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1) Page 18

by Popp, Robin T.


  “Hold his shirt away for me,” Yanur instructed.

  Angel looked at the blood-soaked shirt, matted against Nicoli’s side. Grabbing the front of it, she ripped it open, then gingerly peeled it back, exposing the wound.

  Yanur held the tube centimeters above the raw edges of the wound, moving it slowly back and forth. Angel watched, amazed as the torn tissue started to knit itself together.

  Nicoli’s breathing grew steadier, more peaceful. After a few moments, his eyes slowly opened. It seemed to take him a moment to focus, but then he saw her and gave her a weak smile.

  “How are you feeling?” She asked, leaning over him, unable to keep from brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

  “Like someone slashed me in the gut with a crystal blade.” His voice sounded weak as he looked down at his side, touching it.

  “Are you in pain?” Angel asked.

  “Not now.” He looked over at Yanur. “I guess you were able to get the tyrillium you needed.”

  Yanur smiled. “Yes. I thought at the time the price was a bit steep, but I’ve since changed my mind.”

  Nicoli moved in the chair and Angel put a hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting up.”

  “No. You can sit here for a while and rest. And you,” she turned accusing eyes on Yanur. “You can tell me more about your little gismo there.”

  Yanur offered her the wand to examine. “It’s a Cellular Reparator.”

  “What exactly did it do?”

  “It re-knit the torn tissue and replaced damaged cells with new ones. Any toxins introduced by the knife’s blade were also eliminated.”

  She stared at the instrument in awe. “What else can it do?”

  “It’ll fuse broken bones.” He gestured to his leg, which Angel suddenly noticed was no longer broken.

  “Immortality,” Angel breathed.

  “No. That’s one thing it can’t do. It will heal wounds, even severe wounds. But there’s a limit to what it can do. If the damage is too great, it can’t heal all of it. And once someone is dead, well, it certainly can’t bring them back to life.”

  “Handy tool to have around.” Angel handed it back to him with some reluctance. “How do you get one of those?”

  “You don’t.” Nicoli said. “Yanur invented this one and it’s the only one of its kind.” He gave her a pointed look. “And we keep this one a secret just between the three of us. Understood?”

  Angel scowled at him. “I can see you’re feeling better.”

  “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I am feeling better. I think I’ll go take a shower and wash off this blood.” He stood up, Yanur at his side to offer support if it was needed.

  When he was sure Nicoli wouldn’t fall, Yanur moved back a step or two. Nicoli turned to look at Angel. His face was still an ashen color, but the spark of life was back in his eyes. “Angel, there is one thing.” He gestured for her to lean toward him. When she was close enough to feel his breath warm her ear, he whispered. “Kiera you gave me the right to step in front of that blade earlier today when you gave me--" he paused and gave Yanur a quick glance, "--the other gift.” His lips pressed a kiss to her cheek. As she stared at him stupidly, he winked at her. Then he turned and followed Yanur off the bridge.

  She watched them leave, her mind in a stunned state. When they disappeared from sight, she turned to sit in the pilot’s seat. She adjusted the controls, a happy warm glow blooming within her. Feeling better than she had in a long time, she flipped off the autopilot and felt the ship’s power in her hands. It was impossible to stop the smile from spreading across her face.

  * * * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Nicoli reappeared on the bridge. Angel started to get up, but stopped when he sat next to her in the co-pilot’s seat.

  “You keep the controls for a while.”

  “Oh, okay. How’s your side?”

  “Good as new.”

  She looked over at him, skeptical.

  “Okay, it’s a little tender.” He smiled. “Out of curiosity, what’s our course?”

  “Coronado.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I’m surprised. I figured you had us headed in the opposite direction.”

  “I did,” she admitted. “But I knew you’d turn us around as soon as you could, so I saved you the effort.” She paused a second. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about going?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

  She’d known that would be his answer.

  “Tell me why you don’t want to go. Maybe if I understood, I could help you.”

  It was tempting. She didn't think Nicoli could do anything to help her but it would be nice to finally share the story with someone.

  “You were right,” she said. “Back in the donor room, when you asked if I was from Coronado, I never answered you. Well, I grew up there. It’s not like Earth or any of the other united planets in the system. Technology is tolerated, but only to the extent necessary to permit limited trade with other planets. Towns and colonies are grouped into Regions. Ruling Houses control the Regions and problems between the houses are settled through war. The largest and most powerful is the House of Scyphor.

  “It's a dictatorship where equality between the genders is a foreign concept. Women must rely on men for everything from food and shelter to protection. A woman without protection has no rights; she’s an easy target. Most women whose husbands and fathers are killed in battle seek protection in other households. Virgins usually find husbands to take them. Women who are no longer virgins are lucky to find jobs as servants in another household. Those not so lucky become colony whores, living off handouts from the men who use their bodies. There’s no such thing here as casual or premarital sex. Rape is punishable by death, but only because it represents a desecration of another man’s property, not because a woman was violated. Most marriages are for political alliance, not for love.” She avoided Nicoli’s eyes, uncertain of his opinion on such matters. Would he find the Coronadian way as abhorrent as she? When he said nothing, she continued.

  “It’s all about who has the power. Of course, growing up as a child, I never knew it could be any other way. I was happy. I loved my parents and they loved me. Despite it being an arranged marriage, my parents grew to love one another. My father was more liberal than most men. He raised me to believe I was as good as the next person, even if the next person was a male. He secretly taught me to use the Coronadian warring blade and how to fight. He wanted me to be able to protect myself, if ever I needed to. He was ahead of his time and while his views were popular with the women, the men despised him.

  “My mother’s father was one of those men. A man with political aspirations, he found my father to be a threat. So he plotted against him.”

  “How?” Nicoli’s furrowed brow and scowling mouth showed his concern.

  “He encouraged another man’s attentions towards my mother. That man decided he wanted to marry my mother. So he Challenged my father.”

  “What is that?”

  “The Challenge is a fight with Warring blades. It’s a time-honored tradition for settling disputes. The victor would get my mother.”

  “Who won?”

  “The other man.” There was a moment of silence before she went on. “My father died in that fight.”

  “I’m sorry, Angel.”

  “On the day of my father's funeral, my grandfather and my mother's new husband were called away to war with another House. My mother and I walked through town following the service. An Aruebian Air Freighter had landed to do some trade. We’d never seen one that close and we were momentarily distracted from our pain. Curious, we approached it to get a better look. I'm not sure when the thought first sprouted, but almost by silent agreement, we went aboard to look around. My mother found a small closet and told me to hide.

  “She said we were leaving, but first she needed to get money. She thought she could get it faster by herself. Her father was a we
althy man and she knew where he kept a stack of USP credits hidden. She would go to his house, take the money and come back before the freighter took off. Then we would start a new life together – free from my grandfather and his plans for us. For me.” Angel paused, her thoughts taking her back to that day.

  “What happened?” The warmth in Nicoli’s voice brought her back to the present.

  “My mother never came back.” Angel spoke softly, as if she still couldn’t believe what happened.

  “She abandoned you?” He sounded incredulous.

  Angel shook her head. “She was killed.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know specifics,” she rushed on to tell him. “My grandfather’s house was attacked. No one survived. I overheard some of the freighter’s crewmen talking about it. They were eager to take off.”

  “How old were you at the time?”

  “I was fifteen years old. I haven’t been home in eight years.”

  “How long did you stay in the closet?” From his tone, she knew he was thinking of her behavior in the airshaft earlier.

  “Until we reached Delphi IV. Then I found another ship and hid again.”

  “And now you’re afraid that if you go back to Coronado-”

  “My grandfather will recognize me and never let me go.”

  Nicoli looked thoughtful. “That was eight years ago. He may not even be alive.”

  “I’d just as soon not take the chance of finding out.”

  Nicoli sat facing forward, staring out into space. After a moment he spoke again, his tone serious. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Startled at the conviction in his voice, she turned to look at him. “Thank you. But we both know there are no guarantees in life.”

  * * * * *

  Three hours later, they reached Coronado. Nicoli established communications with the largest power head on the planet, the High Counsel of the Ruling House of Scyphor. He hoped to convince the man that the Harvesters were a threat, but was concerned that any culture so technologically backwards might not believe that a race of aliens was capable of taking over the bodies of their friends and loved ones.

  It had been agreed that Angel would remain aboard the Icarus with Yanur while Nicoli was away. The two would monitor his whereabouts and conversations through hidden comm-links.

  “Okay, I’m taking her down.” Angel made adjustments to the thrusters and using the guidance stick, angled the ship downward. Soon they were cruising just above the surface of the planet, slightly above tree level.

  Nicoli sat next to Angel as she flew and let his gaze study her face.

  “Stop it,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Stop looking at me. I’m fine.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean it, Nicoli. You’ve got enough to worry about. Don’t trust anyone. No one. Especially not the High Counsel.”

  He smiled at her indulgently, tickled that she cared enough to warn him.

  “Stop smiling.” Angel sounded exasperated. “If you get yourself into trouble, I probably can’t help you here.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  A few minutes later, they landed in a field near the High Counsel’s palace and a contingent of guards was sent to escort Nicoli inside. Angel stayed on the bridge while Yanur walked him to the hatch.

  “Testing, testing.” Nicoli spoke in a regular tone.

  Angel joined them a second later. “I heard you loud and clear. We’ll take turns monitoring you. If something goes wrong, just say the word.”

  “Okay. But if something happens, let Yanur come. You,” he pointed a finger at her, “stay in the ship and out of trouble.” With that, he left.

  * * * * *

  “Colonel Romanof. It is a pleasure to meet you.” The High Counsel of the House of Scyphor rose from his massive desk, walking around it to meet Nicoli halfway across the room. He was an older man, mid-seventies by Nicoli’s estimate. Age had taken its toll on the man’s once muscular physique, but he still stood tall and proud. They shook hands, each testing the pressure of the other man’s grip and Nicoli found his well-matched. Both men smiled.

  “Your reputation is known throughout this galaxy and the next.” The older man waved a hand, dismissing the guards who still stood at the back of the room. They turned and left, closing the door behind them.

  The High Counsel offered Nicoli the chair in front of the desk, then returned to his seat on the opposite side.

  “Now, tell me what brings you all the way across the universe to see me.”

  “High Counsel--”

  “Gil’rhen, please. My friends call me Gil’rhen. I would like to think we could be friends, you and I.”

  The man’s overt friendliness made Nicoli leery, but he acknowledged the man’s request by nodding his head. “Are you familiar with the race of aliens known as the Harvesters?”

  “Vaguely, yes. They kidnap residents from various planets and then sell the bodies on the black market, don’t they?”

  “Yes. My most recent mission was infiltrating their operations.”

  The High Counsel nodded his approval. “I’m glad to see the USP taking action.”

  “Actually, the USP did not sanction my mission, initially. I acted on my own.”

  “By yourself?”

  “With the two members of my crew.”

  “Really? What was the purpose of your mission? Reconnaissance?”

  Nicoli waited a heartbeat before answering. “Annihilation.”

  The High Counsel’s expression changed from one of bored politeness to avid interest, tinged with respect. He leaned forward in his seat. “Three men against a race of Harvesters.” He spoke thoughtfully, as if considering the different strategies. “And what was the outcome of your mission?”

  “I believe we were successful. I’ve since notified the USP and they will send troops to handle any survivors.”

  “Excellent. Wonderful.” He smiled and Nicoli sensed he was witnessing an old warrior’s empathetic thrill of victory against a monumental adversary.

  “Gil’rhen, I didn’t come here to brag about my exploits. I’m here because I’ve discovered the Harvesters’ plan to take over another planet." He paused for emphasis. "Your planet.”

  For a moment, the High Counsel stared at him, open-mouthed. “No. That can’t be right,” he sputtered. “You are mistaken.”

  “I am confident of my information.”

  The High Counsel studied Nicoli’s face, no doubt wondering if he could trust what this stranger told him. “If what you say is true, then I want them stopped.”

  “I agree, but first we must find them.”

  ***

  “Ready for a break?” Angel asked, walking onto the bridge to relieve Yanur. He had been monitoring Nicoli’s conversation with the High Counsel for almost an hour and Angel could fight her curiosity no longer.

  “Absolutely.” He pulled out the earplug and handed it to her as he stood up, letting her take his spot in the pilot’s seat. “I need a nap.”

  “So, how’s it going? Any problems?”

  “Not really.” Yanur yawned and stretched. “At first, the High Counsel didn’t seem to believe him, but when Alex told him about the Harvester leader being someone in his palace, he started to take it seriously.”

  “Okay. I’ll take it for awhile.”

  Yanur waved a hand, too busy yawning to speak. He walked from the bridge, leaving Angel to kick back in the chair and put in the earplug.

  “...anything unusual in the last several months?” Nicoli was asking.

  “No. But then, I don’t get out as much as I used to. I leave most of the travel to my advisors.”

  Angel stopped listening to the words for a moment and concentrated on the sound of the High Counsel’s voice. It had been eight years since she’d heard it, but she would have recognized it had it been a thousand. The polite, knowing responses, spoken in rich, dulcet tones that belied the harsh
nature of the man, transported her back in time. Once again she heard that same rich, calm voice telling her of her father’s death.

  The thrum of his voice was interrupted by a dry, grating cough, breaking the spell. Realizing she’d let herself get caught up in bad memories, she mentally shook herself and focused on the current exchange between the two men.

  “I’m not familiar with your government,” Nicoli said. “Perhaps you could explain it to me.”

  “Certainly. What would you like to know?”

  “Let’s start with the basic framework. You are the primary ruling body, is that correct?”

  “For the Southwest region, that’s correct. Each region has their own Ruling House.”

  “But yours is the largest?”

  “Correct. We are located on the planet’s largest continent.”

  “Which means the Cerian Mountains fall under your domain.”

  “Yes...”

  “So, in essence, you control all of the natural tyrillium deposits on the planet.”

  There was a moment of silence before the High Counsel spoke. “I see that you are a thorough man, Colonel Romanof. You have done your research.”

  “I’m not the threat, Gil’rhen. The Harvesters are. But it’s important for you to realize that if I have this information, so must they. If you were going to take over a planet, wouldn’t you take over one with the greatest potential for future power and influence? As the USP’s other tyrillium resources become depleted, Coronado stands to gain much.”

  After a moment, Angel heard the High Counsel’s mumbled agreement.

  “Who else lives here at the palace? You mentioned advisors earlier.”

  “Yes. I have three advisors who have taken on more of my responsibilities lately,” the High Counsel said thoughtfully. “But if you’re thinking that one of my advisors could be a Harvester, you’re mistaken. It’s simply not possible. I’ve known these men for years. One of them practically grew up here.”

 

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