"I need to discuss something with you, Avatier."
It felt strange for his brother not to call him by name. "What?"
"You have no heir ..."
"I have heirs."
Berkesch shook his head and a lock of light brown hair fell forward onto his forehead. "You have no one now."
Kleet swallowed his pain. "That's true."
"I am your flesh and blood, son of my father, although I was not chosen heir. Let me help you."
Kleet straightened, surprise stealing his ability to speak for a moment. He'd never thought to ask his family for help. Berkesch might have more of their mother's DNA, but he was a Kryszan. And his mother had been his father's left hand while Kleet had been his right. Maybe Berkesch could fill that role for him until his own children came of age.
He stood and held out his hand. Berkesch took hold of it. "Thank you, brother. I would be honored."
* * * *
Sheleigh looked up at a step in her doorway. Deveria was there, looking happy. Sheleigh hadn't seen much of the young woman lately. "What is it Deveria?"
Deveria came into the room and a young male Averan followed her. "My friend wants to meet you. Do you remember me mentioning the young man in the next canyon?"
Sheleigh didn't remember. Too much had happened in the last few months. But she indicated the young woman should continue.
"This is my friend Sipos Pallas." There was a ring of possession in the words 'my friend.' "Sipos, this is Dr. Sheleigh O'Brien Kryszan."
"Messer Pallas." Sheleigh acknowledged him the in USP way.
He came forward, a too-slender man with dark spiky hair and gleaming eyes. Her internal alarms went off and she rose to her feet to face him from a position of strength.
"So you're the Avatier's mate. Deveria has told us so much about you."
"Has she?" Sheleigh kept her gaze on Pallas.
"Yes. She says you want Avera in USP. We want that, too."
Her stomach clenched, but she remained outwardly calm. Something about him was scary. His eyes were too bright, his manner too intense, and his way of speaking reminded her of a snake. "Who's 'we'?" she prompted.
"My friends and I. The disenchanted. The disadvantaged. The reformers. We want change and we feel that joining USP is the way to get it. Deveria's been telling us about the species who belong to USP. None of them have wings, and yet they're accepted and treated as equals. It shouldn't matter if someone has wings or not. Deveria says USP practices tolerance of everyone."
Oh God, he was a non-winged radical and he was mentioning wings in front of Deveria! Sheleigh moved out from behind her desk towards the door. He moved to block her path.
"So what are you doing to reform Avera, since joining USP isn't an option?" she prompted.
"Oh, it's becoming more of an option every day. The old Avatier would never have considered it. He was too afraid. All the old people are afraid. But we're not afraid. Deveria told us what it's like for young people and we want to be a part of it. We're tired of being put down and disparaged for not having wings. That's old history. It's our time now. The time for the non-winged.
"The new Avatier, he can't fly anymore."
God, this one had helped cripple Kleet! His very tone was smug with satisfaction. Anger burned its way up from the depths of her being and she stepped towards him.
"And that makes you happy, doesn't it?" There was a sharp edge to her voice, but he didn't appear to notice it.
"Yeah. Having him flightless suits our purpose just as well."
Wait for it, she cautioned herself. She needed him to confess what he knew. "Just as well as what?"
"As having him dead. His children will be flightless and they'll be more understanding of our cause. But we couldn't wait until they were grown and became Avatier. With the old Avatier out of the way, the new Avatier and his descendents are flightless, so the time for non-wingeds is here."
"So you removed the old Avatier because he was in the way?"
"Had to. He would have ruled another twenty to thirty years. USP wants us now. We couldn't wait until then."
"You overlooked several things." She was burning with rage inside. Fiery vengeance needed a target and this young man provided a focal point. He cloaked his evil with pretty words. He was the mark of a true fanatic.
"What things? We didn't overlook anything."
"First, USP doesn't sanction the murder of rulers to change planetary policy. Second, USP investigates all prospective new members. Your militant group would have been unearthed quickly and ruined Avera's chance for admission. Third, your policies have made your group worse than the policies you're trying to overthrow. And fourth, well, you told me."
She launched herself at him, with all the grief she'd experienced during the last few months coalesced into a white hot rage. She would stop this monster and his kind if it was the last thing she did. She knocked him to the rock floor and they began to grapple. She had the strength of rage, but he had the power of fanaticism behind him.
This young man would kill everything that got between him and what he wanted. He would kill every Averan if he had to, and every human on the planet, and then everyone he could reach in USP. She knew about fanatics. She knew eons of history of fanatics. She struck a blow against his face for the innocents who had died because of him.
He struck back, a blow that would have stunned her if her mind hadn't been filled with a picture of Lefair sobbing with tearing pain after the death of her mate. She blocked a second blow and reared back her fist to strike him. A weapon appeared in his hand.
"That's enough!" His voice was cold. His young face was the face of hatred and death. He cared for no living thing but his own cause. When she subsided, his lip curled. It wiped the look of youthfulness from his face. "So, even you know fear, Dr. O'Brien."
She kept her thoughts to herself, hoping to delay him or to come up with a plan to disarm him.
"Sipos! What are you doing?" Deveria, who'd been strangely silent during the scuffle, spoke with disbelief dripping from her words. Sheleigh dared not take her eyes from the fanatic.
"I'm thinking of using Dr. O'Brien as a hostage. The new Avatier will give in to our demands if we have her."
"No, Sipos! You said you wanted change. You told me it would be for the good of all Averans!"
"He's not interested in the good of all, Deveria, just in what's good for him. Haven't you heard, Sipos? The Avatier and I are estranged--we have been since he was crippled. He won't value my life over the good of the planet. He told me so." It had been said in another context, but Sipos needn't know that.
Doubt flashed across his face, too quickly replaced by hardened resolve. "He's your mate ..."
"I'm an alien," she thrust into his words. He flinched.
"You carry his heirs. He values them."
"You robbed him of the power to love when you crippled him. He'll step aside for his sister's children to inherit the rule if he has none of his own." She allowed her bitterness of the past months to tinge her words. Let him wonder about what was true. This devil wouldn't be allowed to hurt her babies.
"But they're Averan ..." He had begun to doubt at last.
"They're half alien, perhaps more than half." She said it proudly and watched the distaste on his face.
The sudden look of revulsion, and then hatred, warned her too late that she had chosen her argument unthinkingly.
"Then Avera is better off without you." He raised his weapon to be level with her heart. Regrets crowded her mind. She didn't want to leave Kleet. She was sorry she'd met him so late in her life. She wished she'd reconciled with him. She would have liked her babies to have lived. She wished she'd brought the Averans into USP.
As her body clenched to receive the killing blow, a blur moved between her and Sipos. She heard the weapon discharge, a heavy thud, and two grunts of pain. Then there was another thud and silence. She moved and saw the blur resolve into Marne Vorndran. He was clutching his lower abdomen with one ha
nd, while the other hand clutched a metal rod.
She looked at Sipos and found him flaccid and bleeding from the temple. She swung back to Marne. "You saved me!"
"I'm not the monster you think I am. I wanted you and I handled your rejection badly. This...cretin...he's a radical?" His last words were gasped.
Sheleigh moved to his side. "Lie down, Marne. Deveria, go get Dr. Barazi." She looked up at the girl's frozen white face. "Deveria!" she snapped.
The girl looked at her with dismay and shame. "I didn't know! I swear. He said ..."
"Now's not the time. Go get Dr. Barazi. Now!"
The young woman fled. Marne was pale and she assessed his injury. There was blood on his shirt. She pulled it from his pants and exposed the wound.
"I don't think you've got any organs in this area. Marne, what were you thinking?"
He gave her a twisted smile. "I couldn't let him hurt you. He was obviously a fanatic. What are they fighting about?"
"Shh, don't talk. Dr. Barazi's coming. He'll know what to do for you."
She heard the fast pounding of booted feet against rock in the hall and she turned toward the doorway. Dr. Barazi appeared, looking disbelieving. He took in the tableau in an instant and dropped to his knees beside Marne. He checked the wound thoroughly.
"It didn't hit anything important, Marne. You do need a medical facility. Sheleigh ..."
"No," Marne's hoarse voice and grasping fingers riveted their attention. "Things are going to explode here. Call USP."
"I don't know all that went on here. Deveria didn't make much sense. But I do know you need a medic."
"I didn't know!" Deveria wailed. "I'm so sorry! He said they were oppressed. They wanted change and I wanted to help them. We're supposed to fight for equality. It's what USP teaches us."
"You don't understand the issues here," Sheleigh admonished their assistant.
"But he said their rights were being denied!"
"You aided the radicals?" Dr. Barazi demanded.
"I didn't know they were radicals! They said they needed my help."
"And you gave it to them." Kleet's voice from the doorway was cold and hard. Sheleigh would have been ecstatic to see him under any other circumstances. But the look on his face was chilling. "You aided them in the death of my father."
Deveria backed farther from him. Sheleigh rose, fearing what Kleet might do in the name of vengeance.
"She didn't kill your father, Avatier," Dr. Barazi corrected. "She's young and she made a bad error in judgment."
"An error that resulted in a man's death. My father made a similar error in judgment that I'm about to correct. You've got four hours to gather your things and get off this planet."
"Kleet, no," Sheleigh protested.
He looked at her and she quailed for an instant. He was in a killing rage. "Once again, strangers have shown they can't be trusted. We won't make that mistake again."
"That's not true!" she cried and heard Dr. Barazi's protest echoing hers. "You're judging us unfairly."
"It's my right to hold this one," he pointed to Deveria, "for judgment by the council on charges of conspiring with the radicals to murder the Avatier."
Deveria gasped loudly.
"Since I heard her confession, I already know she'll be found guilty. We've never had such a heinous crime on Avera. I'm sure the judgment will be for execution."
"No!" Deveria screamed. "I didn't kill anyone!"
"Avatier, we can't allow such a thing to happen!" Dr. Barazi exclaimed.
"No, I'm sure you won't. I'm sure you'll call your USP to come and protect this conspirator. Then more Averans will die while you make sure we've learned our lesson about strangers. And I'll be killed in order to leave Avera leaderless."
"No, Kleet!" Sheleigh moved towards him. "USP isn't like that."
"The only way I can protect Avera and its people from USP retaliation is to send all of you and this conspirator away. She'll go unpunished so that my people and I will live." His face twisted with bitterness. "She'll be free to kill other leaders of other planets. But she won't kill any more Averans."
"Kleet, you've got to listen ..." Sheleigh began, reaching him and grabbing his arm.
He shook her off. "The sun is setting on your four hours. Start packing. If you're still here in four hours, guards will be sent to collect the conspirator."
Dr. Barazi gestured to Marne. "This man needs medical help."
"Take him to your shuttle. We won't help him. If he dies, his life will be weighed against my father's."
"He saved Sheleigh's life. He was wounded defending her from this radical." Dr. Barazi waved towards Sipos' still lax form.
Kleet closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them there was pain in them. "The guards will transport this man to your shuttle. A medic will treat him while you pack."
Kleet turned and signaled behind him. Two guards moved past a white-faced Sarnia and Rahwen to enter the room. "This radical is to be bound and taken to the council hall for questioning. Call for a medical transport to take the wounded human to the human shuttle. Make cargo transports available to take the rest of the humans to the shuttle. The humans are restricted to this building. If any of them try to set foot elsewhere, shoot them." There was a group protest from the humans. "Shoot to wound, and then deliver their wounded bodies to their shuttle.
"Allow them no contact with anyone other than the guards. If they try to use the com unit or speak to anyone else, use whatever force you deem necessary to silence them. And arrest anyone they speak to. You have your orders."
One guard stepped into the hall and Sheleigh could hear him relaying orders rapidly into his com unit. The other guard rolled Sipos over and began to bind his hands. Kleet moved to the doorway and only then did Sheleigh realize she didn't know if she was supposed to stay or go.
"Kleet?"
He didn't turn. "Yes?"
"Do you want me to leave, too?"
There was no sound in the room, as though its occupants held their breaths to hear the outcome. "Do as you wish." His voice was toneless and gave her no clue as to his wishes. He left with a swirl of cape. There was a gaping hole where he'd been. The sigh in the room as breaths were released was almost audible.
Sarnia and Rahwen entered the room. Deveria collapsed into a sobbing heap. Amin, Sarnia and Rahwen babbled alternately about unfairness and what to do first. In the cacophony Sheleigh was attracted to the one spot of silence in the room. Marne lay quietly, looking up at her, and in his pale face she saw understanding. He knew. This man, whom she had doubted as a xenophobe because of his personal jealousy towards Kleet, knew she had no choice. Her place was with Kleet.
"You'll stay," he spoke softly, but it sounded like a shot in the room. The others stopped speaking and turned to her. Amin's face was concerned, Rahwen's confused and Sarnia's was maternally benevolent.
"He's my mate. My place is here now. I'll be the USP presence. I'll be the liaison. He's angry and hurt and he has every right to be. Someone murdered the father he loved. People," she looked pointedly at Deveria, "are trying to start a war here. I have to stand with him now and save what I can for my children." Her hand dropped to her distended belly.
"But Sheleigh, you'll be all alone with Averans," Dr. Barazi protested.
"I have my mate and my children. And I hope to have USP again soon. I'll help you pack and load the shuttle."
"We should stay and try to talk to the Avatier," Dr. Barazi argued.
Sheleigh shook her head. "He won't listen to any of you. I'll try to talk to him, but I don't know if he'll listen to me either."
"My lady," the second guard called from the doorway. "The medical transport is here."
Sarnia and Rahwen spoke quickly to Marne, then moved off down the hall. Sheleigh knelt beside him next. "Thank you for saving my life."
"It wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be," he joked, his voice breathy.
"No, it looks like it hurts a lot."
"It does
. The Avatier cares for you." He said it wonderingly.
"He's loved me since long before he married me. And I love him. Not the Avatier, but the man, with all his faults. The father of my babies."
Dr. Barazi pressed her arm. "I'm going to the shuttle with Marne. When he's settled, I'll come back. Don't leave until I speak with you."
"All right."
A stretcher was brought into the room and Dr. Barazi left with Marne. The radical had already been taken away. Sheleigh was alone with Deveria. There were some things she had to tell the young woman.
"Deveria?"
Her face lifted. It was a picture of misery. Sheleigh hardened herself against being sympathetic. "Deveria, what Sipos said here today is not to be repeated to anyone. You've already assisted in the death of the Avatier and his guards, the injury of scores of others, the destruction of property and the attempted assassination of the heir and his mate."
Deveria's eyes widened and she paled further. "What attempted assassination?" she squeaked.
"When Kleet and I were hurt, it was because someone tried to kill us."
"I didn't..." Deveria stopped. It looked like she was swallowing words as well as distasteful truths. Sheleigh hoped the young woman was beginning to realize the enormity of what helping fanatics meant.
"The knowledge you learned in this room today could kill more people, thousands more people."
"About the wings?" Deveria whispered.
"Yes. That knowledge is a death sentence for the Averans." Deveria winced, but Sheleigh pressed onward. "You owe it to the dead Avatier. You owe it to the grieving widow of the dead Avatier. You owe it to my husband, who misses his father. You owe it to me, because I could have died today. Me and my babies."
Deveria hung her head. "I won't tell."
"Not anyone, not for any reason. Swear on the dead Avatier."
"I swear," Deveria whispered.
"When the Averans are ready, they'll tell their own secret. When they feel safe. They have to feel safe. Go pack your things, and then help the others."
Mating Flight Page 19