Alien, Awakening (Alien, Mine Series Book 2)
Page 25
“Indeed not.”
The tautness eased from Shaharna’s slight frame.
“There, I told you so.”
“Kathryn!”
“And now I must leave you for a moment while I go and greet that wonderful man.”
Shaharna’s nose-fringe rippled like bunting in a cyclone.
“A man? Here?” One of her hands wrapped around Kat’s arm. “You must not go.”
“Kathryn! Where are you?”
She gently unclasped the urgent grip. “It’s alright, Shaharna. He’s a good man, he won’t harm you, any of you. Ask Her.”
She patted the woman on her shoulder, levered up onto tip-toe, stuck a hand through the canopy and wriggled it. “Over here.”
About point three of a nanosecond later, a big, warm hand engulfed hers, another clamped her forearm. A sense of coming home, of being enfolded in a strong haven, flowed from T’Hargen’s touch.
“Brace.” Impatient concern added an edge to his tone.
He tugged. Her arm stretched, her feet left the ground then leaves brushed her face and sides. A moment later, strong palms and fingers framed her face. T’Hargen glared at the scratch on her cheek then his intense, green gaze drilled into hers.
“I don’t know how—” she began.
“Drone, report!”
She peered over T’Hargen’s shoulder. “Hi, TL.”
Thank goodness his technology works here.
“Katelena is well,” her friend oopled. “It is good to see you unharmed.”
T’Hargen’s strong arms wrapped her in a bear hug, his solid chest crushed against hers. A tremor rocked through him.
“When you said there were Bluthen . . .”
He swallowed, his eyes closed. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close.
~ ~ ~
Air chilled by subterranean rock brushed T’Hargen’s skin as he stood at the mouth of a mosaic-tiled chamber not far from where he’d found Kathryn. The shady, tree-lined gully behind him dimmed the bright colours of the grotto to pastel reflections. He flexed his fingers around Kathryn’s hand, the one he couldn’t seem to let go of. She moved a little closer as though sensing his disquiet. The stench of Bluthen, subtly altered, but still fundamentally Bluthen, churned against his nerves, summoning an urgent fight response that he struggled to subdue. How Kathryn tolerated the foul odour with her superior sense of smell, and the horrendous memories that must be associated with it, he could not begin to grasp.
This Masterframe had assured him they were safe from detection by the Bluthen military presence on this planet, and that these females would not betray them. The nearest settlement was some distance away. Still, he did not like Kathryn in such proximity to the possibility of exposure. He’d wanted to hustle her straight back through the teleporter, but she would not have it. Her business here unfinished.
I should have locked her up when I had the chance.
The five diminutive female Bluthen huddled against the far wall. Their soft voices echoed as though multiple, spectral replicas of the words ran across the cavernous, domed ceiling. The precise position of items placed about the area presented a picture of freakishly well-ordered domesticity. He was neat, this was . . . gruesomely obsessive, as though the need for control over at least some small part of life was vital. He eyed the coat this Shaharna wore, and the miscellaneous implements missing from his holding.
Scavengers.
He gripped Kathryn’s hand again, needing to feel her real beneath his palm. Instinct clamoured at him to throw her over his shoulder and run back to G’areen like every pitka of every level of the hells screeched at his heels.
Kathryn would urge that perhaps it is experience, not instinct, that demands such action.
“You do not know these women, T’Hargen.”
He hadn’t given the voice in his ear much thought when he and TL had arrived, just been grateful the Masterframe knew Kathryn’s location, and could assure him they were undetected by the Bluthen occupying this planet. The urge to question pressed on him, but they had matters of a more urgent nature to attend.
“TL,” Kathryn said, “how does Masterframe communicate with us?”
“Molecular transmitters,” Drone fluted. “This area is saturated with them. It is also how she can control any Bluthen device that enters the vicinity.”
“And how come T’Hargen can hear her, but not all the Blufem?”
He turned to her and lowered an enquiring eye ridge. “Blufem?”
“I can’t equate them as Bluthen.” Her soft voice held a note of gentle compassion. “Not with my experience. They’re too nice, too caring. They’re not my enemy.”
Masterframe whispered confirmation, and T’Hargen eyed the petite females.
He centred his gaze on the bruises and scrapes of the smallest female. Kathryn had told him how they’d been acquired. Affronted disgust turned his stomach. How could anyone abuse another in such a manner? Had, as Kathryn had inferred, his own bigotry labelled these women as the undeserving? He struggled to look past the prejudiced preconceptions clouding his mind, to isolate and evaluate these women as themselves. He pushed aside their skin-tone and form, focused on their almost-familiar yet unique scent, evaluated every move and nuance, what they had done and achieved to escape to this place, what they’d endured at the hands of their own society. Were these women capable of any cruelty, let alone the monstrous cruelty perpetrated by the military?
He . . . doubted.
If Kathryn’s hypothesis and her assessment of these women accurate, and they could not be charged with the heinous deeds he’d laid upon all Bluthen, surely that would translate to most of if not the entire female population. If so, of what horrendous act of negligent ignorance was he, was the Alliance, culpable?
Dear, g’Nel, what egregious deed of narrow-mindedness have I committed? Is my indifferent abandonment of them any better than the intentional abuse of the Bluthen?
He faced the unpalatable possibility he had failed half an entire race. He’d sworn to protect innocents, yet if Kathryn was correct—her intelligence was not to be ignored—and Masterframe to be believed, he’d abandoned these very innocents and many more, based solely on their race, to a society that used and subjugated them.
All manner of defensive arguments for his actions sprang to mind. He did not know. How could he have known? It was well accepted that all Bluthen were ruthless, he’d witnessed it time and time again, but he knew the arguments for what they were. Excuses. Excuses to avoid facing his failure. He should not have assumed, he should have investigated, verified. It was, after all, what he did.
Guilt coiled through his gut as though it would eviscerate him. He rolled his lips together and owned his mistake. In all probability these women had never committed a violent act against any being in the Alliance. He did not know precisely what they had endured, but it seemed unlikely their lives had been pleasant. They would not have sought refuge here otherwise.
Shame burned his soul.
Thank g’Nel I was never presented with the circumstance where a female Bluthen would have died by my hand.
He gripped Kathryn’s hand tighter and grimaced. He’d wondered how she could stand the smell of Bluthen? How could she stand contact with a monster like him? Someone who forsook those in need and condemned them with prejudice. Scavengers? Yes, but they’d been scavenging to stay alive, fighting for the most basic of freedoms and rights, while he’d helped sentence them to that fate with blind bigotry and hate. It seemed fitting they had acquired at least some succour from him.
The vital necessity to make amends forged through him. His honour demanded he remit these women so much more for his failure to recognise their plight. At the very least he owed them an apology.
Reluctantly, he released Kathr
yn’s hand and stepped towards the females. Tension tightened their stances, their conversation ceased, faces studiously averted, but eyes turned furtively in his direction. He slowed his pace, tried to look less intimidating than his hulking bulk could ever possibly achieve. With gradual care he eased his open-palmed hands towards them.
“Ssileelas—”
Sharp, suppressed shrieks of fear ricocheted around the cavern. The women shrank into a compressed bunch. He froze. A moment passed. The rapid quiver of their nostrils lessened. He took a slow breath and edged a foot forwards. Terrified squeals speared down his ear canals and stabbed his eardrums. The women sprang apart. In a flurry of limbs and rustling cloth they scuttled around the walls of the cavern, far out of his reach, towards the opening.
Disappointment and regret dropped through him, slumping his shoulders. Kathryn’s soft voice and Shaharna’s whispered reply behind him straightened his spine.
“It’s not your fault, T’Hargen,” Kathryn said.
He turned. The female Bluthen huddled behind her.
“They are afraid of me.”
An odd, sadly humorous twitch lifted one corner of her mouth.
“Yes, but that’s not what I mean. It’s not your fault the plight of these women has gone unnoticed. Such an abhorrent attitude to women is so far beyond your society’s comprehension it would never have occurred to anyone to consider it.” Kathryn lifted a hand and gently pressed the tips of her fingers against his cheek. The urgent compassion in her beautiful amber eyes bored into his. Her loving empathy stole his breath. “You cannot shoulder the responsibility for failing to see a problem you could not possibly envision. You can only take responsibility for what you do now.”
Sombrely, he regarded the well-loved features of her face. Her words made sense. They did not lessen his burden of shame, but he did feel more able to accept it, to not let it mire him in guilt. He lifted his gaze over her shoulder to Shaharna. The sparkle in the pretty, silver stars lining her pupils seemed to imply awe and wonder as she regarded the intimate tableau of he and Kathryn. Perhaps she had never seen a male and female demonstrate care towards each other.
The other females ignored him with a diligence he would have found offensive had he not known the cause. He returned his gaze to Kathryn.
“I wish to apologise, assure them of aid and refuge should they favour it.”
She drew a long breath and rolled her lips together.
“Ah, yes, well, about that . . .” The corners of her mouth trembled as though mirth would not be suppressed. “I’m afraid they thought you were approaching them for sex.”
Astonishment punched him in the gut.
What?
He sent Kathryn a dazed, querying look. “I don’t understand.”
“Cultural misunderstanding.” She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve explained.”
“But—”
Shaharna took a step towards him. “What did you call us?”
He gentled his expression as much as he knew how and gave the Bluth—Blufem his placid focus.
“Ssileela.”
“What does that mean?”
He shifted his chin to one side.
“Has not Masterframe translated?”
“I leave that to you.”
“Who is Masterframe?”
“Masterframe is she,” Kathryn replied.
Shaharna turned wide ombrayo eyes to him.
“You can hear her, too?” A thread of surprised awe heightened her tone.
“I can.”
“Are you a descendant . . . like Kat and me?”
Shock hijacked his tongue.
Like Kathryn and her?
He slid an alarmed, questioning gaze to Kathryn. “I thought descendants were human.”
Kathryn’s shoulders lifted in accepting bewilderment. “Apparently not. At least not limited to.”
“How? How is this possible?”
“A descendant is a being who has inherited a valuable gene seeded long ago into the Universe by our—the Masterframes’—creators, the Progenitors.”
“What gene?”
“Compassion.”
Nonsense. “There is no such attribute.”
“A compassion gene?” The thoughtful purse of Kat’s lips implied she afforded the idea some credit. If she considered it a possibility, he would do well to be open to such thinking.
“You have heard of such a trait, Kathryn?”
The glitter of rapid thought lit her amber eyes as she stared at him. “A compassion gene? No, but we do have something on Earth called a selfish gene.” She drew a sharp, deep breath. “Could be along the same lines.”
“A selfish gene?”
That does not sound promising.
Kathryn gifted him an amused, yet reassuring, smile.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. The selfishness refers to favouring the perpetuation of a species above any particular individual’s line of that species. For example, in a group of animals there may be one dominant female who breeds. Nature has decreed she has the most favourable genetics among the group for continuing the species. The selfish gene dictates that the other females, apparently quite happily, accept the role of ‘aunt’. They help provide for and protect the young of the matriarch instead of being driven to reproduce their own lesser pedigree, thus ensuring the survival of the species rather than any particular lineage.” She lifted a wry eyebrow. “That’s the short version anyway.” A frown rippled the smooth texture of her forehead. “It could affect the males, too . . . I think it does, but I can’t remember.”
“That assessment could be paralleled to the Progenitors’ gene. The gene writes a strong sense of compassion into the very fibre of the being of whom it becomes a part.”
“So any species could have this gene?”
“Any being belonging to an organic species, no matter their intelligence level, yes. Unlike the selfish gene of Katelena’s planet, the compassion gene is more selective. It would only have written itself into the RNA of individuals, not entire species. The gene would have then been carried to descendants.”
Could that be why— “Kathryn was able to activate the dormant pillar on New Earth. Was that due to her descendant characteristic?”
“Correct. When a Masterframe experiences a catastrophic failure the pillars act as a failsafe and decommission the teleportation system on that planet. As you know, Masterframe on the world you call New Earth was critically damaged, she suffered a direct meteorite strike some time ago.”
“Then if descendants are not confined to humanity, why use the Canon of Proportions? The ‘Build the buildings to light the paths’ riddle.”
“It is a test of logic and sense, a provision against an undeveloped descendant coming into contact with the pillar.”
“But still, a concept from Earth?”
“Perhaps Vitruvius, the author of the Canon of Proportions, was a descendant,” Kathryn postulated then shrugged. “I don’t know much about him. Maybe a lot of cultures who revere beauty have some sort of architectural principle they adhere to. That’d rule out the Bluthen.”
“It was indeed unfortunate that the first Masterframe to be encountered by a descendant was one incapacitated.”
“But very fortunate Kathryn held the key to unlocking the safeguard.”
She smiled at him, and he knew he’d do anything to continue to be the recipient of such a gift.
“You said operational Masterframes govern the use of the teleportation system?”
“Again, correct.”
“I assume then Masterframes are the cause for the Bluthen’s inability to access the system?”
“Yes.”
“On behalf of the entire Alliance, we thank you.”
“Is it possible the Bluthen can discover a way to use a descendant to override the control of a Masterframe?
“Unlikely, however we cannot say for certain.”
Pitballs! We need to know which—
“We would of course notify General Mhartak if such a possibility were to eventuate, especially if the event were to culminate in Alliance space.”
Except when you don’t know it’s happening.
“How many Masterframes in Bluthen space have you lost contact with? Do other Masterframes require assistance from us?”
“Yes, our connection with two Masterframes has been severed, and your offer is gratefully accepted. We are anxious to avoid a repeat of Shalringfrey.”
Eugen will need to coordinate that.
“Shalringfrey?”
“The planet from which you secured the human descendants.”
“If you are in need, why didn’t you ask General Mhartak during his dialogues with New Earth?”
“You and Katalena we trust.”
Hmph. “Well I can vouch for Eugen Mhartak’s trustworthiness. He’s my brother. Advise New Earth to contact him and outline your needs. He will coordinate with the Masterframes to arrange assistance. What defences do you possess?”
“We are able to isolate the main habitats from those whom we do not wish to enter. No amount of force will penetrate the protective screens we can establish. We have no offensive weapons.”
“What happened at Shalringfrey then?”
“Shalringfrey Masterframe had to allow the Bluthen access in order for the descendants to enter the main citadel.”