Endurance

by Richard Chizmar

  My heart rate sped out of control. Incongruously, time seemed to slow down. The beam flashed, then took forever to reach my arm. Scalding heat spliced my flesh, but it didn’t move. My throat locked when I realized SrrokVar had calibrated the laser to the lowest speed.

  This wasn’t going to take a few minutes.

  I fought the mind-scrambling panic. “No! Just do it and get it over with!”

  “Calm yourself, my dear.” SrrokVar drew closer, observing and tapping notes into a data pad. “Or can’t you?” He peered at my face as I gasped for breath. “No, I don’t believe you can. You’ve been burned before, haven’t you, Doctor?”

  The Sunlace. Trying to rescue Tonetka and the children. The fire between us—

  “Is that why you’re so afraid of the sensation? Have you been fighting those memories? Or reliving them?”

  I couldn’t answer. Pain and hysteria descended, corroding my breath, my control, my sanity.

  Before everything spun out of coherency, I saw the Hsktskt shake his head, heard him say, “Subject displays severe phobic reaction to …”

  Strangling terror slammed a wall between me and my surroundings, leaving me imprisoned in an airless pocket of fire. I saw my fingers shred as I climbed over the rubble, felt the veils of flame drape over my body. Blackened, charred bodies, the memory of those I hadn’t saved, crowded the smoke-stained deck of the Sunlace. Bile surged up, but even that remained trapped. Nothing would unlock the frozen muscles of my throat.

  I wasn’t going to save anyone this time…. I was going to burn and burn and burn….

  Before I could black out from lack of oxygen, a cruel hand forced an endotracheal tube into my throat. The now-familiar burn of pure oxygen billowed down into my chest, pushing my lungs out, keeping my body alive.

  No … I fought to dislodge the tube penetrating the swollen tissues of my throat. Just let me die….

  Something stung the side of my neck. Drugs entered my bloodstream, speeding through my veins into my heart, which began hammering faster and faster. Stimulants. SrrokVar wasn’t going to let me miss a single moment.

  There was no place to go. I tried to cower behind a mental wall, but the pain swelled over it and found me. In a haze of convulsive shudders, I heard someone calling to me.

  Joey.

  I raced to find the path to the inner place. Maggie, help me! Yet the wall I’d erected had begun to close in around me, imprisoning me in a mental confinement pit. A pit lined with razor-sharp teeth. Maggie, for God’s sake!

  The memory of my surrogate mother’s voice came to me with another, suffocating wave of torment—He’ll keep at you for as long as it takes to satisfy his curiosity—and that’s endless.

  Endless. No. I couldn’t take this.

  Maggie’s voice took on a beseeching tone. Call him, Joey. Call to the one who loves you. The one who can save you.

  Two faces merged in my mind. Reever. Noarr. I loved them both, but only one would save me.

  Reever!

  At the sound of his name, the walls collapsed, and agony began tearing me apart.

  I don’t know how long SrrokVar worked on me. I didn’t care. The pain had thrust me into a tight, dark, airless chamber. No doors. No windows. Just me, agony, and the sound of my own screaming.

  With or without SrrokVar’s special treatment, I knew I would scream in that chamber forever.

  Yet eventually the pain stopped. It didn’t dwindle. It was there one moment, gone the next. Or perhaps my awareness of it had discontinued. I remained, huddled, terrified, my throat raw, my muscles unresponsive.

  I really, really wanted to stop screaming. I just couldn’t. Slowly the darkness came alive with sound. At first a mere hum, passing through the unyielding walls to whisper against my hypersensitive flesh. I squeezed myself tighter, smaller, still shrieking mindlessly.

  The hum became a voice. The voice called out a word. No, not a word. A name.

  Cherijo.

  It knew me, it was coming for me, and it promised no more pain. A trick, I decided, and kept yelling without words, hoping, praying that would be enough to drive it away.

  It wasn’t. Cherijo, I am here.

  The chamber disintegrated, and I was left alone in the boundless dark, trying to fold in upon myself, fear stealing what little air remained. I didn’t have enough breath to scream anymore; all I could do was hope it wouldn’t find me.

  Hands touched me, then came a coolness so soothing that I wept. And still I couldn’t unlock myself from that little ball of misery.

  Look at me.

  No way was I doing that. If I did, I’d see SrrokVar. I’d see my severed hand dangling from the suspension clamp. I’d see the truth of where I was, what had put hands on me, and what was coming next.

  “Cherijo.” A gentle caress on the side of my face. “Look at me, Waenara.”

  I didn’t possess the strength to fight anymore, and yet the sound of that last, whispered word terrified me beyond anything SrrokVar could ever do.

  Flippers, not hands, stroked my cheek, my throat, my hair. “You do not have to be afraid.”

  Oh yes, I did. Noarr had left me, betrayed me, abandoned me. I clung stubbornly to my terror, which had done many things, but had never, ever deserted me.

  He made a sound—a terrible, helpless sound—then gently placed something over my body and head. I felt myself being carried over a distance; cold seeped into my limbs.

  I knew what was going on. Noarr had taken me from the crying chambers. He had brought me out onto the surface. Noarr, who had led so many others through his tunnels, only to turn them over to GothVar and his pals. It didn’t matter that FlatHead was dead. There were plenty of Hsktskt on Catopsa; Noarr had doubtless found replacement monsters hungry for slave meat.

  Maggie didn’t need to tell me the obvious. No immune system, no matter however aggressive, could counter the effects of being torn up, eaten, and digested.

  So this is it. This is how it ends.

  A disturbing sense of calm settled over me. Ever since Reever’s betrayal, I’d been prepared for this. I’d courted it and found it with equal amounts of determination. But now that the moment of my death was upon me, I felt rather peaceful.

  If nothing else, I hope I poison them.

  The cold went away. Noarr said something in that strange, strumming language of his, then lifted me up and onto a soft surface. I kept my eyes and mouth shut, and didn’t fight him as he uncurled my stiff limbs.

  I’d had an exceptional life over the last couple of years. No regrets, then, I thought, and waited for them to start ripping into me.

  “Cherijo. Open your eyes for me.”

  He wanted me to see, to watch what they were going to do. The bastard. Clean, purifying anger pumped into my veins, devouring the serenity I’d been enjoying. He could have simply done it, but no, he wanted more. He wanted me to go out shrieking.

  Not without a fight, damn it. My eyes snapped open in time to see Noarr remove the envirohelmet from his head and place it aside. My muscles sang with strain as I curled up and began to roll over off the platform.

  “Cherijo.” Noarr came and blocked my path with his body. “Be still. I must—”

  “Judas!” I couldn’t make a fist, so I slammed my good arm into the side of his body. New, clean pain shot up into my neck as I rolled the other way. Noarr flung himself on top on me and pinned me facedown into the sleeping platform.

  Sleeping platform?

  Agitated breath rushed by my ear. “Do not move. I must examine your burns.”

  “Why?” The linens muffled my voice, so I lifted my head. “Don’t they like their meat cooked?” It didn’t help. All that yelling must have badly strained my larynx.

  He rolled off me, flipped me over, and pinned my arms down so fast I didn’t have time to get my hands up. “What are you talking about?”

  “You. GothVar and his buddies. Prisoners a la carte?” I spat in his face. “And I thought Hsktskt were animals.” His weight
pressed on my burned forearm, and tears welled into my eyes. “Just kill me first, will you?”

  Gently he released his grip and sat back. “I never helped GothVar or the other Hsktskt. Every prisoner I’ve liberated has left Catopsa.” He brushed my hair out of my face. “You must believe me.”

  “Stop playing with me.” I couldn’t get my voice above a whisper now. “Finish it.”

  “Let me examine your arm.”

  I didn’t fight anymore. He tugged off my tunic, revealing a burn deeper and more severe than any I’d had before. Noarr gently cleansed it, then wrapped it lightly. For once I didn’t give directions. Besides, he did a fine job.

  “Thanks.” I flexed my arm and marveled at the lack of pain. “What did you shoot me up with?”

  “Morphinol. It should last until your body repairs the damage. There is nothing I can do to counter the stimulant.”

  “It’ll wear off.” I reached for my tunic, then stopped. “Too late for modesty, I guess.” I got up and walked on unsteady legs around the small compartment. “So this is your ship.”

  He cleaned up the med-kit supplies and put them away. “Yes.”

  I peered out the viewport. “You hid it in the tul growth field.”

  He came up behind me. “As the hull is black, it seemed the most logical place.”

  I counted the number of growths, and was surprised to see the Lok-Teel had cleaned up nearly half of them. “So if you’re not planning to serve me to the beasts, why am I here?”

  Flippers landed lightly on my shoulders. “I could not leave you there, Waenara. Not another moment.” The silky webbed appendages moved down my bare back. “I could not be without you.”

  “And that’s it. That’s all. You simply expected me to trust you?”

  “Yes.”

  He left me there, and left the door panel unlocked. After a moment, I got up from the sleeping platform and went looking for him.

  Noarr’s ship was small, and stripped down to only the bare essentials. It only took a moment to locate the helm.

  He sat at the com console, where he was relaying a message.

  “How fares my ClanSister?”

  My jaw dropped as I heard the familiar, warm voice of my ClanBrother, Xonea Torin.

  “I retrieved her from the compound. She was injured, but will recover.”

  “I have spoken to the Ruling Council. They have ruled to break the Choice between her and Duncan Reever.”

  “I will let her know.” Noarr sounded angry.

  Xonea wasn’t done being a pest. “Do you intend to Choose my ClanSister?”

  I held my breath as Noarr paused. “If she will have me,” he said at last.

  “Good. She needs a strong protector. I will welcome you as a ClanBrother, Noarr.” Zonea made a fluid gesture, reserved for adopted members of the HouseClan.

  Noarr nodded. “How close are you to transitioning to this region?”

  “Seven rotations. Possibly less. The Aksellans will arrive before we do. Will you be ready to evacuate the facility when we arrive?”

  Noarr turned around and gazed at me before answering. “Yes.”

  I went back to the room he’d given me, and felt like a complete idiot for the better part of the night. How was I going to apologize for what I’d said to him? Would he understand? Or had I destroyed everything between us?

  The darkness parted as the door panel opened. “Are you feeling better, woman?”

  “Not really.” Relief made me slide from the sleeping platform. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” He stood in the doorway, staring at me.

  “I had no idea you’d contacted the Jorenians.” I gestured to him. “Come in. We need to talk.”

  “If I come in, Cherijo, I will stay.”

  I knew what he meant. And I wanted what his voice promised. Not only to soothe away the pain and helplessness. Noarr’s voice called to my blood. Such a strong response, simply from hearing the sound of my name, those words …

  Everything became absolutely, entirely clear to me.

  I had a million questions, of course. Who wouldn’t? Yet it was time to let go of the doubt. To trust myself and him. To surrender to what had begun that moment we’d met.

  “Come in.”

  He came to me without another word. In silence I lifted my hands, felt his fins curl around my finger.

  “I thought you’d betrayed me.”

  “You don’t trust easily.”

  That was the truth. “No.”

  “Neither do I.” His flippers brought my fingers to his mouth, and he licked each one. “Do you trust me now?”

  I didn’t have all the answers, but I’d take a chance. “Yes.”

  “I knew, the first time I saw you.”

  I frowned. “Knew what?”

  “We would be together.” His tongue curled around my little finger. “Like this.”

  Fascinated, acutely aware of the symbolism, I stared at him. The space between us became unbearable. I sensed it was my move, so I stepped forward. Pressed my body along his long, muscular frame. His strength against my softness made me release a low, delicious sigh.

  Noarr’s voice spilled over me again.

  “You want me.” Surprise and satisfaction blended in each word.

  “Yeah, I do.” One word that opened a passage to a terrifying new world. His hand moved up my arm, and stroked it. I laid my head against his chest. “I always have.”

  “I have wondered. How you would feel, how you would taste. I have tried to ignore it, yet you are always in my thoughts.” His flippers threaded through the long strands of my hair as he wound the soft mass around his fist. “I need you, woman.”

  “Noarr.” A few brain cells were still working; I had to be responsible. Even if it meant turning away from him when he needed me the most. “I’m not protected.”

  “I don’t want you to be,” he said.

  And suddenly, neither did I.

  Noarr’s expression remained hidden. Under my cheek, his pulse beat, heavy and rapid. My hand moved blindly to the fastenings of his garments. The warm skin I exposed was as hairless as his head. I stood on my toes, pressed my lips against his throat. Tasted his flesh with my tongue. Sucked lightly.

  His entire body went tense. “Stop.”

  I laughed a little. “No.” Reckless with new knowledge, I pulled his tunic off. The muscular surface of his chest under my palms only made me greedy for more.

  He turned slightly so that the light fell on me, and proceeded to deal with my tunic. I watched him as he cupped one breast. “Pretty.”

  A muted sound came from my throat as Noarr lowered his head. His mouth touched the swelling curve, the edge of his teeth scraped down, raking over my nipple.

  Reality was on the way out the door. Fast. Too fast. The room suddenly tilted as his arm went under my knees and my feet left the floor. “Noarr—”

  “Tell me later.”

  “This is important.”

  “Look at me,” he said.

  The light from the corridor fell across his face. I looked. Hunger stared back at me, so dark and naked and deep that it took my breath away.

  “Do you understand?” he asked me.

  I understood. Noarr wanted me. Had to have me. Would have me, unless I said “no” right now. No one else, nothing else mattered to him.

  I nodded.

  He carried me with him to the sleeping platform. I brought one of his fins to my mouth, and delicately traced the edges with the tip of my tongue. His scent changed, grew darker as it blended with heat and perspiration. It created new, uncontrollable impulses that spread like wildfire. The emptiness I had ignored for so long now clamored with aching intensity. My hands fisted against his chest.

  “Yes,” Noarr said against my hair as he lifted and placed me on the mattress. “Give it all to me.”

  Dimly I heard my trousers rip as Noarr tore them from me. It didn’t frighten me. Excitement flashed bright strobes behind my
eyes. Hard fins took and twisted my hair, used it to tug my head back, baring the sensitive zone below my jawline.

  The abrasive caress of his teeth on my throat shook me to my heels. I muffled a cry of pleasure as he caught the delicate skin and bit down. His teeth left a wet, stinging patch behind as they moved to ravage and brand another spot. Then another. And another.

  He lifted his head once to gaze down at me. “Your taste intoxicates me.”

  Before I could respond coherently, his tongue ran from my chin to my breast, where he bit me again. Immediately he laved the stiff nipple with rough, slick strokes of his tongue.

  “The light,” I gasped.

  “Light?” His flippers were doing things to my body that I’d never imagined possibly.

  “I want to see you. Watch you touch me.”

  “No.” He hesitated for a moment. “I am shy.”

  Him, shy. It made me smile first, then I laughed. “All right. No lights.”

  His warm, hard body stretched over mine, and strong arms drew me in. “Do you care for me, Waenara?”

  “Care for you?” After everything we’d been through? I hit him. “I love you, you stubborn, unmanageable idiot.”

  Flippers cradled my face, tilted it up to his. “You are all I have ever loved, the only one I will ever love.”

  “Then show me,” I whispered against his mouth.

  He licked my lips. It made my blood heat, my toes curl, and my arms slide around him. A sense of relief and safety came over me, along with the deep, wrenching throb of desire.

  This is where I belong. Where I’ve always belonged.

  Urgency made us fumble; Noarr became endearingly awkward and I wasn’t much better. We got better, though. His warm, smooth flippers seemed to flow over me, sculpting my body into a writhing mass of aroused nerves under flushed, damp flesh. His mouth trailed over my breasts, which seemed to fascinate him. He certainly bit them enough.

  “Don’t do that,” I said, when the emptiness I needed him to fill became nearly unbearable.

  “Very well.” His mouth traveled south. “May I do this?”

  “I don’t …” A low moan came out of nowhere as he settled between my thighs, and suckled at a different spot. “Yes … oh, yes.”

  The darkness blurred, everything rushed away, and my entire focus remained on the building pulse beneath his tongue. My hips lifted off the platform while my hands knotted into the linens.