by Joyce Lavene
Fris and Bryn had moved out of eyesight. Would she return to the cruiser only to find herself alone? Checking the transmitter at her waist, she turned back the way she'd come. If they were all gone, she would wait for rescue by herself. Better yet, maybe they would come for her. She was convinced now that there was someone or something hiding on the planet. They had taken the others and probably killed them.
They would find her no easy prey, she vowed, although how they'd managed to get close to Kat was still a mystery. Perhaps it was more of the mind games they'd worked on him when the cruiser had first landed or that Rissan had weakened him without him realizing it.
He'd seemed stronger after his time alone on the cruiser, but perhaps that was only temporary. In any event, she would be the hardest damn thing the natives from that world would ever had to handle.
Fris and Bryn weren't waiting at the cruiser as she'd silently prayed. They were all gone now. She was truly alone. Quickly, she pulled everything from the cruiser that she could possibly use and set up the tracer from the console on the plateau. If they came too late, ENDO would know she'd been there. With the cruiser stripped, she set the controls to auto and readied it to take off. There wouldn't be much left but the fireworks would be spectacular. Once the cruiser got up out of the atmosphere, the fracture in the hull would cause it to explode. The COM link couldn't reach Land's End but the tremors from the explosion would jolt their sensors.
She climbed out of the ship, stepped away, and switched on the hand control. The cruiser started up slowly into the twilight sky. Gael watched its lights until it was out of sight. She realized that blowing up the ship was the last act of a desperate mind. Was it her last hope of survival or her best?
As the sun set, she made camp, her back set against a flat wall of rock. She sharpened her knife and stared out into the night, refusing to allow herself to think about anything but her survival. There had been hard times in her life, times when she wasn't sure if she would make it. She'd won the knife she held in a fight when she was eight years old and living on the dirty streets of R'agus, the only city on Farga. She'd never known parents or a home besides the shadowed streets. She'd learned that she had to fight for even the most meager scraps of food and clothing. Yet she had survived and she had joined ENDO. She'd lied about being a slave and she would've killed to get off those streets.
Perhaps none of the others on the mission had needed to face those fears and win as she'd been forced to do so long before. Gael Klarke was a name she'd taken from a wall poster in an alley because she'd never had one of her own. She was a survivor.
***
They came during the night. There were too many of them for Gael to count. She'd heard them coming from a long way off. Perhaps since she was alone, they thought she'd be easy to take. They were wrong.
Rising from her cloak like an avenging angel, she struck down a dozen of them. They seemed confused, finding her retaliation unexpected. They quickly melted back into the darkness. Though she would have liked to follow them and put an end to it, she knew the strategic value of her position. She cleaned her knife and folded her long limbs back against the rock.
In the morning, after no further attacks, she drank a little water and faced the prospect of another misty, rainy day. There were no bodies on the rock face around where she'd been during the attack. There was no blood. Not a rock was disturbed.
That was how they did it. A sort of ghost warrior tactic probably meant to frighten and disarm. She pulled her wet weather gear close around her and started towards the mountains again. She felt certain the answers lay in their shrouded heights that had seemed so fearful to her.
The storm gathered force as the day wore on, breaking long before Gael could hope to reach higher ground. The wind was stronger, pushing her back as it whipped her fiercely. It threw gravel and soil into her face. She pulled the cloak down so that only her eyes were visible, pushing one foot in front of the other against the wind. She was bent nearly double with the force of the slashing rain when they struck again.
It was like they'd dropped from the sky, falling on her with the force of a mountain, pushing her to the ground. She tasted blood as her teeth ripped at the inner flesh of her lip. Water and mud choked her as she tried to breathe. She tried to get her legs under her to stand. She fumbled for the knife and got it as far as her side. A terrible blow to her hand made her drop it.
Bones were crushed and broken. Gael screamed her pain and fury into the wind and rock. She kicked at one of her assailants, thrusting up and hard, only to feel the body give way to the ground. More weight dropped on her. There were too many of them.
She coughed, taking in water. A hand roughly grasped her head by the hair and lifted her face from the ground. She couldn't move; couldn't see, blinded by mud. Her chest hurt. Broken ribs. Her mind considered the pain in a detached manner. Her hand was broken, possibly the wrist. Rain coursed down her face like tears that she would never have shed.
She saw a face in a flash of broken light, opened her mouth to speak then a fist struck her hard against the side of the head and the pain and anger became darkness.
***
Gael was conscious. She was alive. But she couldn't move. She wasn't in pain. That surprised her. She could remember those last few moments before the darkness and that face. Her eyes closed and the sounds around her became dim and distant. Several other moments of consciousness came and went while Gael struggled to stay alert. Despite the soothing sounds that floated through her mind, she pushed at the edges of her awareness.
Kat had pulled her out of the coma when she was trapped in the protective shell. He'd showed her the way. She had to search for the light and the gritty feeling of pain. Slowly, little by little, she felt the clouds leave her brain clear and clean.
Kat.
I'm here.
Where?
They won't allow you near me as yet. Be patient.
They?
There was no response. Gael strained her eye muscles trying to see as much as she could from side to side. She appeared to be standing upright. The room was vast, shadows and vapor. Was she alone? There was no way to see beyond her immediate vision. She could wiggle her fingers and toes just slightly, enough that she could feel a soft, padded substance that enfolded her, imprisoning her.
Where was she? Was this how all the others had vanished? She heard sounds, shuffling...or the muffled beating of...wings? Someone was coming. There were other sounds. A low moaning. Snoring?
It could be speech muffled by the same substance that was plastered over her mouth. The sounds were scattered, random. She stood, resolutely silent, careful to keep her eyes down even while she scrutinized every sound that was made around her. She'd shrugged off all of the drugged feeling that had trapped her.
Kat's race of R-12 planet dwellers had trapped them all, neatly and effectively. All that remained was to wait for their next move. If they were expecting her to beg, they would be disappointed.
The beings that entered her field of vision were small. They were very white skinned with the same soft rounded head and large black eyes that she remembered seeing that night at the processor. Kat's secret race? Hardly the warriors she'd been expecting. They were very thin and frail, almost childlike in manner. Had one of them saved her life at the processor? Had it been these creatures that had delivered the beating of her life at the plateau?
Two of them came to stand directly in front of her. Their black eyes were shiny and fathomless. Curious. She sensed pity and alternately, deep fear. She didn't understand. Since she was their prisoner, she'd expected triumph or mockery. What did they want from her? They looked at her carefully, scrutinizing every line of her face. The black eyes stared intently at her then looked away at each other quickly.
Gael felt like an exhibition in a museum. Was that what she was to these people? She heard a sound. It was swelling, bell-like, in her brain. It was growing but not abrasive. She could feel it flow from them through her body in its
mummy wrapping. They were communicating. Not with her but with each other. The tones were high then low, flowing and short. They looked at her then at each other, the sounds changing through her mind.
She couldn't understand what they were saying but knew conversation when she heard it. There had to be a way to talk to them. She could tell them who she was and that their presence on the planet changed everything. If they were afraid of the processor, she could assure them that they had nothing to worry about.
Excitement warred with the need to be free. This was a new race of people. They'd survived here despite the processor for generations. There was so much to be done, so much to learn. But she was their prisoner and the fate of the other crewmembers, including Kat, was still a mystery. Her first priority had to be getting free and securing the release of the others. Why couldn't Kat communicate with them? This type of work was his specialty. Where was he?
Even as she thought of him, he came into her immediate field of vision. He wore flowing white. His golden hair was loose around his shoulders. He ignored her completely, standing just to one side of her so that she had to strain to see him. She pushed her peripheral vision to the maximum just to make out his face.
He came closer to her. His eyes glanced off of her face without recognition. Not a flicker of interest passed his smooth, beautiful features. Was this a game? Surely it wasn't an ENDO-ECHO competition between them. She wanted to scream out and hit something. What the hell was going on?
Calm down. She forced herself to take a deep breath. She veiled her eyes with her lashes, not daring to look up at him. Slowly, painstakingly, she created a detachment from the situation. Emotionally charged, she would do herself no good. She had to think, not feel. She wished their chiming thoughts would leave her brain or alternately, that they would make some sense.
Why didn't Kat talk to her? Did they have some control over him? She'd have to take charge. They'd found a way to keep her from feeling what they'd done to her. Gael knew otherwise. And she knew that pain could be an ally.
She controlled her breathing, pushed feeling into her numb toes and fingers, concentrating on the pain that coursed through her as she opened her body to it. With pain came strength. She shored up her defenses. She could feel the swelling on her eye and the side of her face where the beings had hit her. The side of her mouth was cut and a trickle of blood slid down her chin. Ruthlessly, she made herself feel the break in her wrist and the crushed fingers of her right hand. The broken rib in her chest suddenly made breathing a tortuous process.
Gael looked up, her eyes glazed with pain. The creatures were massed in front of her, their eyes wider, if possible. They stared at her. Their chiming language came faster and higher as though they were excited. Gael dared a glance at Kat, stunned to find him changing before her eyes.
In his place was a being, illuminated within itself, wings unfurling from its back. There was a resemblance to the others standing in front of her; the same black eyes and rounded head. The winged creature held the smaller ones close around it like offspring. Together they watched her, obviously troubled.
Gael breathed in quick, shallow gasps, determined that there would be no illusion. She had been seriously hurt in that fight. They wouldn't drug or quiet her with their chiming thoughts. The fact that they'd thought to try and trick her into believing that Kat was all right made her escape even more important. Surely if he was able to function, Kat would have communicated with them. They'd seen him. Had they tried to force him into their service and failed? The thought of him being injured or dead made her impatient.
The creature with the wings came up closer to her. She stared furiously back into those depthless eyes, refusing to back down. The being did the same, turning its head curiously as though trying to understand her.
A surge of amazement came on her. She blinked, realizing that she felt the creature's emotional state even though she couldn't understand its language. For just an instant, as she had with Fris on the cruiser, she could see through the other being's eyes. Through a haze, she could see her own scarred and bleeding face.
Unlike the experience with the Guardsman tech, the winged creature's life processes were not adaptable to her own. Too late, she realized that there was not enough energy in her present state to keep her hold on consciousness. Her vision faded and with it, she felt herself slip back into darkness.
Chapter Eighteen
There were no dreams of pretty tapestries, no slow transition from unconsciousness. One instant she was out and the next she was awake, surfacing, as though she'd been drowning.
She gasped and sat up straight, wincing as she felt the hot, sharp pain knife up through her side.
"Kalamir, Sadah." Kat greeted her softly, sitting beside her.
The large soft padding that had swaddled her from her bruised body was gone. She glanced at her dirty uniform and grimaced. At least she was free. She groaned and lay back down slowly on the cushion. Her head ached and her mouth felt like it was full of grit. She would have given a year's salary for a mouthful of Fargan rum and a fully charged weapon. She felt his hand on her arm. Long fingers put a cool container into her hand. "It's not rum but will clear your throat. As to the other -- "
"I don't want to play these games anymore," she told him, her eyes still closed. "Whoever you are, find someone else."
"Gael." He spoke lightly, a dry humor in his tone. "You play these games too well to give them up. Drink. You'll feel better."
She looked at him, trying to see through the illusion. He was wearing the white robe she'd seen before and his hair was loose on his shoulders. All right. She'd play along until she saw an opening. She might not have a weapon but she was never helpless. "Oh, Kat! How can I know if it's really you?"
"An ingenuous question." He ignored the insincerity of her tone. "If I were not myself I'd attempt to mislead you."
"That's not the answer." She sat up despite the pain and glared at him fiercely. "What do you want from me? Who the hell are you?"
"Take the liquid, Sadah," he urged. "Drink and we'll talk."
She took the container from him then dropped it on the floor. It fell from her fingers and struck noiselessly on the padding at his feet. "You must know that I'm not going to eat or drink anything until I get some answers. Why am I here and who are you?"
He bent to retrieve the container and she quickly moved her good hand to his throat. "The ENDO calis ona," she murmured, "the death move."
He looked at her from dark fringed eyes that were narrowed in pain. He didn't move but her vision blurred as she was slammed back into the cushion. She gasped at the pain, not moving again as he sat back down beside her.
"But as I told you, no physical move is as effective as a trained psi." He took her hands in his own long, slender ones, ignoring the shock of contact. "Tell me, Sadah. Who do you think I am? For once, you must trust more than just your eyes."
There was the faintest flutter in her mind, then a warmth and color that bathed her tortured senses. Touching him was like a sigh on a summer's day. She opened her eyes and looked slowly into his so blue gaze.
"Gael?" He said her name quietly but with an underlying passion that heated his simple return.
She threw herself into his arms, resting her cheek on the smooth white robe at his shoulder. It was like being home, a feeling she'd never known even at ENDO. "Don't expect me to apologize for that. What the hell is going on?"
He watched her vainly try to adjust her body so that the fractured rib didn't hurt. It was useless. He calmly reached for her and settled back against the wall with her head on his chest. His eyes closed for just a moment when she was finally still against him, feeling her relax. With gratitude, he rested his head on hers. Thank you.
She sniffed, hearing his heartbeat under her ear. She touched his silky bright hair that lay near her face. "For what?"
Coming back to me.
Oh.
Oh? Something more, please? I feel like I've waited a lifetime to hav
e you near me again.
"Kat -- " You scare me.
He laughed, a gentle, easy sound. "I thought that also. Until I realized that real fear was the concept of never seeing you again."
Gael refused to consider her own thoughts in that direction. She moved her hand slightly and stopped in wonder, staring at her wrist and fingers. "They aren't broken."
"Now that, Sadah, is a wonder. How did you do that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Haven't you guessed? These people have used illusion and not a small amount of psi energy to bring us all here. You weren't really attacked by anyone except in your mind."
"But I'm injured. My rib and my face." She reached up and touched her face but there was no swelling around her eye and her lip wasn't bleeding. "But it was so real."
"The Chrysalines thought so." He smiled down at her. "They knew you couldn't have been truly injured. Yet as you forced yourself to regain consciousness, your face grew discolored. They felt the pain of your real injuries. You projected that pain to them and you caused the injuries that you believed to have been done to you. They were horrified."
"How could I have done that?" She was amazed.
"You have a rare and special talent. You've crushed it down inside of you for so long that it almost died."
"But you." She turned slightly to look at him, wincing although he told her that the pain wasn't real. His beauty dazzled her and the warmth in his eyes reached down inside of her. "You saw this in me from the moment we met. I don't understand. How could I hide it from everyone else, even myself, and not from you?"
He touched the scar on her cheek, etching in his mind each line of her face, wanting to lose himself in her dark eyes. "You are a compliment to my own psi energy. I can't stop you from touching my mind, my emotions. You are a part of me."