Trey

by Nya Rawlyns

  father had access to superior technology, yet that still did not explain how they had tracked him to the unmapped Portal. The more he pondered the odd sequence of events, the more questions he had.

  “Why?” He wasn’t sure what he expected as an answer, if indeed his father would

  even understand what he wanted to know.

  Gunnarr looked up, surprised that Trey could mentally function given the level of drugs in his system. He’d withheld the seriousness of his son’s injuries. He’d had to argue and bully the surgeons into not amputating the leg. It had taken fourteen hours and a team of the best orthopaedic specialists on the East Coast to perform what they called a miracle. After that he’d called in chits from every clan leader, bargaining for the best of their healers to be sent to headquarters. His autocratic demands had put his organization under a heavy burden. He had yet to figure out how to turn the situation to his advantage. His position of Capo now rested on shifting sands.

  Gunnarr pushed off the couch and walked to his desk, avoiding Trey’s question,

  for he knew exactly what the boy wanted to hear. He had no clear answer for the

  whiplash change of heart he’d had when he’d seen his offspring near death in the hospital.

  Pulling out his desk chair, he sat heavily and brushed a hand over his eyes as he mentally ran through his options. He could lie, but his son was too smart to buy simple avowals of fatherly love and concern. That this young man had chosen a path at odds with tradition and in opposition to the best interests of family and clan was partially his own fault. He’d engineered the situation, in collusion with Eirik. He’d made that particular bed, not his son. It was something he could never admit, ever. The clans would see it as weakness and he was already under siege by the Miami group who daily impinged on his lucrative arms business.

  Trey’s hiss of pain brought Gunnarr back to the question hanging between them.

  “Can I get you anything? I can call the medic and have him give you something

  else.” He reached for the intercom button but Trey mumbled, “I’m fine,” as he adjusted his position to take weight off his hip. Gunnarr decided to go with the logical rationale first so he stated with finality, “Tradition.”

  “That’s an excuse.”

  “It’s a reason, boy. And it wouldn’t hurt for you to pay more attention to it.”

  “We broke with that generations ago, Father. I made a choice. The old ways no

  longer pertain to us. I’m surprised you even came for me.” Trey grimaced and barked, “I want to know why.”

  Gunnarr turned away to hide the lie in his eyes. With ice-cold resolve he said,

  “We wanted the asset. You happened to have it. Your track record with valuable

  property has not been sterling.”

  “You don’t know anything about that.”

  “Oh, but I do. Your uncle filled me in on all the details of your little escapade with the mother.”

  Trey clenched his fist tightly enough to dislodge the morphine drip. He looked at it idly, as if relishing the agony to come, hoping to overwhelm the pain of betrayal.

  “Gothi … and you. I should have known.”

  “Do you think we exist in a vacuum, boy? We are not as different as you might

  think. We work together when necessary to save the clans. And to clean up messes made 98

  by fuck-ups like you. How the hell you ever survived this long, I’ll never know.”

  “The choppers. How?” Why he felt the need to fill in the blanks was a mystery,

  but the Portals had been his reason for living, his sacred trust. As a guardian he exercised immense power and assumed a terrible burden of responsibility, something hard-wired into his being. For as long as he drew breath, discharging his oath took precedence over everything.

  And if I concentrate on honor and duty then maybe I won’t think about her …

  maybe. “Ah, yes, I suppose you are curious about that.” Gunnarr settled back in the chair, content that he was on solid footing as the cat was already out of that bag and he had nothing to lose in revealing what too many people already knew.

  “We warded the Portals … rather, Eirik did as he was the most gifted—more so

  than the rest of us.” Gunnarr looked out the window, gathering his thoughts. “We needed neutral access points. Despite our precautions—all those efforts to mask our passage through this dimension—we weren’t always successful. And our people suffered terribly, the Inquisition repeated over and over throughout recorded history. We required bolt-holes for when conditions in our dimension became untenable. And, even more, we needed a way to tap into a breeding population to maintain our numbers and seek out others like us.”

  “I know all this.”

  “Hmm, yes. Well, technology had the potential to be the bane of our existence.

  Humanoid populations spread throughout the dimensions, with varying levels of … what should we call it?”

  “Sophistication?”

  “Exactly. The risk that other worlds might acquire advanced technology and

  possibly use it against us simply wasn’t worth the risk. Our scientists developed the means to disable most devices, not all of course, but enough to discourage anyone from playing arms dealer to the universe.”

  “Did it work?”

  “For the most part. It discouraged the more entrepreneurial amongst the clans.

  We are, if nothing else, a practical group. Even your uncle will look to the bottom line when push comes to shove.”

  “How many know?”

  Impressed that his son paid close attention despite being in obvious pain, he

  explained, “As few as possible, our chief scientists of course; Eirik, myself, Tyr and Lorne. Some of the lower ranks have access to certain elements, but generally we guard this knowledge with a blood oath.”

  Clenching his fists, Trey struggled to rise. “You risked everything to secure,” he choked on Caitlin’s name, “the asset.” He couldn’t risk uttering it; the pain and loss was still too raw. He needed to keep his options open and avoid revealing the one secret that no one seemed privy to—his bonding to a mate. “Why is … was she so important?”

  “She’s a shape-shifter, full blown. And I can attest to that, though I did not get to see it for myself, but Knutr did.” Gunnarr rose from his seat and paced the room. “Think about it. Eirik’s people have the technology to genetically manipulate for specific traits.

  To shape-shift? The applications are mind-boggling. To have the means to truly mask our identities in whatever dimension we care to traverse? It would free us from our 99

  incarceration, in this dimension and that land of ice we now call home.”

  “You both agreed to this course of action?”

  “Of course not. But we have convergent interests, and our paths crossed on

  occasion. Do you think your uncle would pass up an opportunity for such a prize in favour of pursuing petty disagreements?”

  Trey hissed in pain. His head spun with each stabbing shock to his system. He

  had misjudged everyone’s motivations, played his version of the boy scout, do-gooder role to perfection. He’d bought all the lies because he needed something in his life, a higher purpose to fill the empty spaces. He’d been called ‘soul-less’. Even Caitlin thought him a demon—a devil—at first. His mate knew him better than he knew himself.

  He barely heard his father barking into the intercom as he floated in and out of consciousness. He thought he was lost, adrift and hollow—without purpose, without a reason to live. He’d been wrong, about so many things. Eirik was no better than his father. They had the same goals, the same bottom line. His uncle just managed to hide his pursuits with elegant phrases and misdirection. The end result was still

  manipulation and control. His father had never lied to him. He might not agree with his ends or his means but at least he knew where he stood.

  Gunnarr pointed to the medics moving
a gurney into position and growled, “I

  want him under surveillance twenty-four-seven, two per shift. Not one of you goes home until he is functional. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal, sir.”

  Gunnarr anxiously watched the men load his son onto the gurney and wheel him

  out of the office. He’d given Trey just enough to wet his curiosity and perhaps trigger the one thing that would guide him back to his rightful place by his side. He still had the small matter of Bryn’s death and the clan’s expectations for resolution. If he worked it right, he could secure the sympathy vote for a grieving father and a disabled son—surely punishment enough for all involved.

  He went back to his desk and placed a call.

  “Eirik. He’ll live. But I don’t know if he’ll have full use of that leg. I’ve got every medic at my disposal working on it. Uh-huh. Yeah, whatever your people can do. I know.

  I’ll have my admin give you daily updates. All right.”

  He checked his watch, then went to the window, staring sightlessly at the parking lot far below.

  “Capo?”

  “Ah, there you are. Have you located…?” Gunnarr paused when he saw the man’s

  expression. “What is it?”

  “We found the other chopper.”

  “So spit it out, Kieran. I have enough on my mind. I don’t need to play twenty

  questions.”

  Kieran grimaced and took a step back. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

  ****

  “Where ya want her, Boss?”

  “Put her on the gurney and strap her in. We don’t need for her to be gettin’ frisky when we transit the Portal. Damn thing’s squirrelly as hell. Gonna be a rough trip.”

  100

  “We still going to close it?”

  “Yeah, this little episode never happened, do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” The man hefted the limp form into the helicopter then jumped in,

  manoeuvring with difficulty in the cramped space. The units were designed for two-man operation, pilot and gunner, and that left little room for cargo. They were a step up from the one-man probes that had first discovered the whereabouts of their quarry, but not by much.

  “You done?”

  “Yeah, Boss. Be right there.”

  “Uh, wait a minute, do you hear that?”

  “Hear what? All I hear is you flapping your lips.”

  The leader reached into the cockpit and grabbed binoculars. “I’ll be right back.”

  “What is it?”

  “Probably nothing. Stay here and watch her.”

  “You got it, Boss. This here’s our Christmas bonus.”

  He checked the restraints one last time and exited the chopper with a grunt. The light breeze brought little relief from the heat. He mopped his brow and looked around for the pilot.

  “Boss? Where’d you get to? Come on. We need to go.” The man moved away from

  the chopper. “Boss?”

  “I’m afraid he isn’t coming.”

  “Wha—? Who the hell are you?” The man grabbed for his Uzi. It was his last

  conscious act.

  A disembodied voice floated from the offside of the chopper. “Is he dead?”

  “Nah. Will be. I doubt these yahoos are gonna survive the night.” The man

  pointed toward the cockpit. “Grab the asset. I’ll set the charges.”

  “Okay. And make sure you remove all the weapons. We don’t need for any

  indigenes finding any of our toys, now do we?”

  ****

  “Ma’am, if you’ll follow me please.” The orderly led the way into a small office off the observation chamber.

  Caitlin followed with difficulty. Her muscles still felt weak, unused. They’d

  removed the feeding tube the day before but her throat still ached and she could only utter barely audible grunts.

  “Please take a seat.” The orderly waved to a hard plastic chair. She sank into it gratefully.

  “How are you today, my dear?” Eirik entered, leaning heavily on his cane. “We

  make quite the pair, don’t we?”

  Caitlin smiled weakly. The older man had a courtly way about him that she’d

  grown fond of. His daily visits had been a welcome fixture in her topsy-turvy world.

  Eirik sat on bench set against the far wall. “I’m sorry we don’t have more

  comfortable accommodations. As you now realize, your safety hinges on keeping your, uh, whereabouts a secret.” He shook his head and frowned. “That little odyssey of yours stirred up a hornet’s nest. We had to deactivate a potentially valuable Portal. And our little secret, the one we’ve guarded from time immemorial? You understand how

  101

  important it is to safeguard indigenous species from exploitation.”

  Caitlin nodded. The older man had explained, candidly and without apparent

  reservation, the function of the Portals and why oversight was so critical to the stability of all the dimensions.

  “So far we seem to have containment.” He bowed his head so she couldn’t fathom

  his concern.

  She croaked, “Why can’t I get better?”

  Eirik shrugged, “We don’t know. Theoretically you should be responding to the

  nutrients and physical therapy. However, you were subjected to an alien environment for an extended period. In truth, no one has ever spent that much time in an alternate dimension such as that one. We have no metrics by which to measure adaptation to such extreme conditions.” He ignored the ‘least of all a human’ aspect of that equation.

  “My father?”

  “Not to fear. He is alive. I’m assuming he’s well. But he is incarcerated and shall remain so indefinitely.”

  “K-kieran. How is he?” Though her throat burned, the need for information

  flamed hotter than physical discomfort. She needed to understand what these people wanted from her. She’d been treated with nothing but kindness and respect—and

  obvious concern for her welfare—but that did not preclude ulterior motives.

  “I have no additional information, I’m afraid. We have limited contact with the

  organization, as you know. Of course, we monitor communications but that can have limited utility in this day and age. Counter measures. You understand.”

  She didn’t but she had little reason to doubt what she heard. There was one last question, but she’d been too weak and frightened, to contemplate voicing it. When Eirik had told her Trey lay near death and had gone into surgery, she’d collapsed into a coma.

  She knew, on a level defying rational explanation, that her disintegration—the gradual wasting away—could only be due to her separation from his energies, his essence. Each breath was one step closer to her last. When he left the world, so would she.

  “What’s wrong, Caitlin? Are you tired?”

  “No, just worried.”

  “Ah, yes. Trey. Well, I do have some hopeful news. He is recovering. However, there are complications and perhaps more surgeries. I have my people keeping an eye on the situation.”

  Caitlin’s body tensed and wavered, as relief washed over her like a tidal wave. She fought to control her face, forcing her features into a mask of casual interest. Given their enforced isolation and intimacy over an extended period of time, they would suspect that some kind of relationship had developed. Instinctively she understood that this was a secret she must take to her grave.

  Eirik looked at her kindly, then sighed. “I wish there were an easier way to tell you this, Caitlin.” She sat up straight and stared hard at him. “You asked us to help you find your mother.”

  Caitlin waited, knowing the truth before the old man muttered the words. “I

  regret to tell you, your mother died.”

  She bowed her head and rasped, “How?”

  “We have it on good authority that she may have encountered hostile forces.”

>   Caitlin raised her eyebrows. Those hostile forces had to be Greyfalcon, the group that held her father hostage. The group that had destroyed her brother with drugs and 102

  God only knew what else. Dry-eyed, she raised her eyes to find only concern and sadness on the old man’s face. She silently prepared herself for what was to come.

  “This is difficult. Trey was my right hand, my confidant. But he made some bad

  decisions that resulted in your mother coming under fire from a retrieval squad sent to reacquire her.”

  “Greyfalcon.”

  “Yes. They recognized her unique talents and wished to explore how best to place her in their program. I do not have particulars. All I know is that she was wounded.”

  Caitlin allowed the tears, and regret, to flow. She’d thought her mother had

  abandoned them. She’d been wrong once again. Nothing was as it seemed.

  “Trey?”

  “Ah, yes. He, uh, can heal. It is one of his very unique talents. From what I

  understand he took her through a Portal, then left her for his own reasons. I’m afraid she succumbed to her wounds.”

  Caitlin could not process the information. She knew of his healing powers, knew

  he could have put her mother in stasis as he’d done for her. Why would he not save her?

  Eirik approached, his body old and bent and weary from grief. Clearly he did not understand either.

  He murmured, “We’ll probably never know why he did what he did. I’m sure he

  had his reasons. All I know is that he stole you away from us. Unforgivable.” He patted her hand. “Come. You look tired and you must try to eat some solid food.”

  Caitlin followed Eirik into the corridor where the orderly took her elbow and

  guided her back to her cell.

  ****

  “You look well, Ma’am.”

  “Please, call me Caty.”

  “Yes’m, I mean … Caty. Can I get you anything while you wait?”

  Caitlin waved the young man off. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the