"Wulfe?"
His entire body reacted in a decidedly male way to the throaty, feminine voice speaking his name. Then the scent worn by the one with the sultry voice reached him. Spicy, mysterious, as smoky as her voice. Oh, he had to see who possessed such richness. His imagination produced an image of a lithe body clad in curve-hugging ivory leather. "Who is it? Are you Catherine?"
"Aye." The single word carried a hint of hesitation, but also an undercurrent of determined strength.
"Perhaps you can tell me why we have no power in here. As usual, Doctor Albright tends to speak in time-wasting riddles." Wulfe rubbed a spot on his head. The dull ache inside his skull refused to subside, testing his temper even further.
"Captain, we have power," Albright informed him with a note of cool detachment.
Professional; the doctor had gone professional on him. Another bad sign. "Where are we, Doctor?"
"We are in Station Uhlein's medical bay."
"What the narg--" Wulfe sat up with a jolt he regretted when pain roared through his head.
"And we have lights, Captain," Albright continued. "Just now, when you ordered lights to fifty percent, they dimmed."
"But I can't--" Reality hit him with a heavy fist. His headache expanded. Blind? He couldn't be! Once blinded, warriors didn't exist any longer as warriors. They became burdens. Useless encumbrances to those around them. More honorable to die outright, and far more preferable. "I am blind."
"So I now understand," Albright assuaged with maddening ease. "My job will be to discover what the problem is and proceed to repair the damage."
Wulfe recoiled from his chief medical officer's words. He resented her need to soothe him as if he were some weak Earther child. Burgeoning frustration only made his head pound harder.
A slim hand, too small to be Albright's, slid into his, gripped him with unexpected force, as though attempting to imbue strength through touch. The exotic scent floated closer, teased his senses. Wulfe reached with his free hand and found a slender shoulder covered in a thick fall of curly, silky-feeling hair.
"Catherine?"
"Aye. You are among friends, Wulfe. Comrades dedicated to making you well once more. Do not forget that. You will see again. The Creator will put this right, with Nora's help. You are a burden to no one. Today was not the best of times to die. Sister Fate holds other, better plans for you."
The female's confident touch, her words, even her tone of voice, did the unexpected. They seemed to temper his rising anger and frustration with the situation, relieve the sense of unfairness and waste. Almost as if she understood what he felt. Impossible, because only another Bellon could comprehend. Only another warrior would know what awaited him.
"Stay as calm as you can, Captain," Albright advised him in that damnable professional voice. "Moira will stay with you for a minute or two while I see to someone else. We will answer all your questions as soon as possible."
"Then answer this one: How soon am I going to see again?"
The petite hand he held tensed, then eased from his. The delicate fingers glided past his in a slow, pleasure-giving withdrawal that brought his body to attention. Inexplicably, he felt abandoned and bereft when her touch vanished, as if he'd unwittingly allowed something precious to slip away.
CAT'S KNEES threatened to buckle, but only because her heart seemed to have stopped beating and her lungs to have ceased breathing. She leaned against the corridor's bulkhead while she tried to take it all in. The mind simply refused to absorb some facts readily. Cat looked at the hand Wulfe had held in his, shook her head. She slid down the bulkhead to sit on the deck, clenched that same hand and pounded the fist against her bent knee. "He can't see. He didn't know me."
Albright joined her, sitting cross-legged, and rested the back of her head against the wall. "This is a bit of a sticky situation, but I'm not going to give up, and neither will he. That means you can't surrender to despair, either."
"I won't have to. I'm going back in there right now and tell Wulfe the truth, tell him who I am. The sooner he knows everything, the sooner we can get back to normal around here." Cat scrambled to her knees, intent on suiting actions to words.
Albright caught her before she could stand, yanked her down to the deck again. "Whoa! You're doing no such thing."
"Wulfe needs to know." Gods, I need him to know.
"Yes, when he's ready." Albright pursed her lips, fiddled with the short spikes of her hair. "In my opinion, the captain isn't at that point, yet. Psychologically speaking."
A black hole yawned wide beneath Cat, its inexorable force jeopardizing her tenuous hold in the emotional universe. "Explain."
"This has been a shock to all of us. I've found no physical reason for either the amnesia or the blindness. That leaves a few other possibilities. You saw my antics in the recovery room, the light in his eyes, how I waved my hand in his face. I even stuck my tongue out at him."
Nora Albright was the only Earther Cat knew who'd have the temerity to do such a thing to Wulfe Kincade.
"I'm here and alive to tell the tale, so that alone proves he's not, uh, faking the blindness."
Outrage roiled through Cat, followed by a cowardly strand of doubt. "You can't possibly entertain the idea Wulfe would even try to do something like feigning blindness or memory loss!"
"No, of course not, but, logically, that particular avenue had to be considered and systematically discarded as an option."
Cat struggled to keep from lashing out at her friend, the same woman who'd saved Wulfe's life, and hers, more than once. "So we're down to psychological and emotional options unless you manage to come up with a physical cause you haven't yet discovered."
"Looks that way to me. Until we deduce the exact point in time these afflictions struck him, determine the precise cause, we could create even more damage to his psyche by revealing the truth too soon. I hate to admit it, but damage we may not be skilled enough to heal."
Fear. Ghastly doubt. Resentment. Chilling insecurity. The grim possibilities numbed her. Cat searched Albright's clear blue eyes, found a dim shadow that echoed the thought torturing her own mind. "Oh, gods, you think Wulfe doesn't want to remember me."
"I did not say that! A severe emotional trauma could create reactions like those we're seeing. We'll have to backtrack, find out everything we can about his actions up to the point of the shuttle bay explosion and resulting decompression."
"Everything--the bond--all gone. I feel like I'm working with only half a brain. How can I be certain I'm doing the right thing?"
"You do what I do. Simply believe the captain will manage to overcome this setback."
"Setback? Nora, who are you kidding? One whisper of this," she jerked her head in the direction of the infirmary, "gets back to Space Corps Command, and Wulfe's position as captain of the Falchion is gone. Blindness they'll accept, but memory loss? Not a chance, especially with war looming on the horizon."
"How can I keep something this big out of the medical logs?"
Cat could only hope the Creator guided her along the right path. She made a split-second decision. "How soon are you required to report Wulfe's condition?"
Albright pushed the fingers of one hand through her short, blonde hair, rearranging the spikes again, and shrugged. "Technically, now. But with the uproar over the Mallochon attack, medical reports aren't at the top of everyone's list. Why? What's going on in that head of yours?"
"What if you received a direct order from, say, someone like Admiral Flemming, to keep this news to yourself?" She'd buy any time she could for Wulfe, even if she had to break every rule.
Albright turned her head far enough to look at Cat through squinted eyes. She plumped out one cheek for a moment. "Well, technically, I suppose I would be obligated to follow orders."
"Pretend you've gotten that order, for at least an hour."
"What are you up to?" Albright held up a hand, palm out. "No, please, don't tell me any of the sordid details. The less you say, the less I ca
n hurt you if Command corners me."
"You know if Wulfe is forced to relinquish captaincy of the Falchion, the loss will destroy him. Forfeiting the Falchion would be like losing a part of himself, a very critical part. His entire life has been built around this command." The life he led without me. Cat tried to drive the painful thought away, only half succeeded. "I'm not above using extreme measures to keep Wulfe exactly where he belongs. In the big chair."
"You're gambling an awful lot."
"He's worth the risk, no matter how high. I'll hazard everything I need to. You going to give me that hour?" Cat held her breath. She couldn't order Nora to jeopardize her career.
"Why not? I've always hated making out those pesky reports anyway." Albright closed her eyes. "Catherine, you must believe the blindness and amnesia are only temporary. The captain could never truly forget you. I know--stars, I've seen--how much that man loves you." She opened her eyes and looked at Cat squarely. "He'll be his old self in no time flat."
"Creator willing." Gods, what if the memory lapse became permanent? How could she live like that? How could the children? "I might not like the truth of this predicament, but right now, remembering me is secondary."
Her mind churned with hectic plans to buy time for her husband. "Nora, if you were under orders to cut the Falchion crew by half, could you make a list of remaining personnel you'd swear were loyal to Wulfe?"
"I suppose so. Most of the crew would follow him anywhere, but I can think of some who would question the reason."
"Those are the ones we have to cut. I'll need the roster by the end of the hour you're giving me. We must keep news of Wulfe's condition from everyone else for now. You, Moira, Mykal, me. That's all. Not even Wheeler. Agreed?"
Albright stood, pulled Cat to her feet. "Agreed. In the meantime, Moira and I will begin a battery of tests to see how extensive the blindness and amnesia are and to find any possible underlying cause. We might be overreacting. The captain could be in there with Moira talking about you right now."
"If you believed that, you wouldn't give me the hour so easily."
Cat returned to the Falchion while plans and ways to circumvent protocol fermented in her mind. The first endeavor, convincing Wheeler to work with her rather than against her, fell flat. In the space of less than three minutes, Wheeler's taciturn attitude degenerated into open hostility before he walked away from her.
Meeting with Lyon restored Cat's confidence enough to conduct business effectively. They agreed on a plan and how to implement the scheme with the least amount of turmoil.
A conversation with Flemming reinforced her conviction she was doing the right thing. The admiral vowed to call in as many favors owed him as he could to expedite her hasty plan to keep Wulfe in command. Flemming even admitted he'd make good on some outlandish promises in the effort to support plans for the Falchion.
Cat pushed the boundaries of protocol herself. She threatened, cajoled, blackmailed and put the fear of the Creator into anyone worth contacting. Her position within the clandestine Covert Ops, along with her family's status, extended her reach far beyond that of the normal Corps officer. A Syllogian ambassador for a father. A mother seated on the Bellon Tribunal. Remarkable clout, though she'd never drawn upon it before.
Cat squared her shoulders with conviction. Not many people besides Wulfe, or the cause on his behalf, could have convinced her to wield that power, but use it she did. Ruthlessly.
An hour later, Cat practically collapsed into a chair opposite Albright and Moira in the temporary office the station had assigned to the Falchion's medical personnel. Mykal Lyon, who'd come back to the station with her, pulled up a chair and sat next to her.
Albright shook her head. "You look like the devil himself has been punishing you."
Cat returned Albright's grim look. Even now, Flemming would be authorizing the uncooperative Wheeler's immediate transfer. "You're not so far from the truth. Do you have that list of names we discussed?"
Albright nodded and handed her a tiny data chip. "For what it's worth, here you go."
"Now to correlate your list with mine and Mykal's." Cat popped the chip into the small handheld computer she'd brought with her, set the parameters, and allowed the simple program to run in the handcom. She couldn't wait any longer to ask, "Did your last battery of tests find any new information about Wulfe's condition?"
"I don't know what's wrong, Catherine. I've run every test known to medical science. Twice. Then I invented some of my own. We can send a crew to any quadrant of the universe, so you'd think we'd be able to--oh, don't let me get started."
Albright's blue eyes appeared faded out and tired, and she suddenly looked far older than her mere forty-some cycles as she continued. "After a few subtle questions, it seems the captain remembers nothing about you, Garrett or Morgan. He vaguely recalls seeing your father at the Corps Academy, but says he never met the ambassador in person. Naturally, he knows of the famous Dove Burnelle, but insists he's never met your mother. Neither does he remember Morgan's birth mother."
"He's lost the last ten years of his life?" Cat heard the note of panic in her own voice, instantly regretted the slip.
Lyon took a mug from Moira, handed the Bellon tea to Cat as he nodded his encouragement. She accepted gratefully, suddenly aware Lyon, with his neat uniform and long blond hair securely tied back, seemed to be the only person in the room not fraying around the edges. The same sure couldn't be said for her.
"The captain hasn't lost the entire ten years, only portions of that time. He can tell you to the day when he took command of the Falchion, and everything concerning his career up to today, including the last few months. He even knows what time he went to the wardroom for lunch two days ago."
Cat sipped at the hot tea and mulled over Albright's disclosures. She had to stay calm and in control in front of others. "Two days ago? As I recall, Wulfe met me at thirteen-ten."
The stress had even begun to unravel Moira's stoic facade; more and more black strands of hair kept popping out of her tight chignon. "That's approximately the time he gave us, but according to the captain, he ate his meal alone."
Cat had expected as much, but the confirmation of the facts cut through her like a keen-edged yataghan, left her unable to speak.
"We won't know the full extent of his amnesia for quite some time," Albright took up the explanation. "We'll discover other items he's forgotten the more the captain converses. On a brighter note, everything may come back to him before we get that far. Wouldn't be the first time."
"What's the bottom line here?" Cat traced the familiar, intricate design on her stiletto hilt with a shaky forefinger. She kept her other hand busy squeezing the mug.
"I can find no physical reason for either affliction to continue. He could--and please note I say could--go to sleep tonight, wake up tomorrow, remember everything but having the amnesia and being blind!"
"Give him a sedative and put him to sleep, then. I'm willing to give almost anything a try." Cat bit her bottom lip, fighting the note of hysterical desperation and the hateful quaver in her voice that threatened to betray her wavering control. She couldn't fall apart until she was alone, away from observation of any kind.
"I wish it were that easy, but it isn't. The captain has very reluctantly agreed to stay put until Moira finishes the personal sensor array she's redesigning for him. The equipment will allow him to move around on his own until he does regain his sight."
Made sense. Wulfe wouldn't ask for help to get around. Cat finished her tea, plunked the mug to the desk surface. "Okay, so now what?"
"I hope you're ready to put this scheme into action. The captain is furious because we've refused to answer most of his questions." Albright shrugged a shoulder. "I wasn't certain where you were headed with all your preparations. He won't accept being put off much longer, and I'd prefer not to have an enraged Bellon in sickbay. Raises hell with the equipment, not to mention the personnel."
Cat checked the faces of the others
for any indication of hesitancy. "This is the final decision time."
"It is," Lyon agreed, "and we are with you. I suggest Doctor Moira and I continue with our individual work while you and Doctor Albright proceed with your plans for the captain." He and Moira left Cat and Albright alone in the office.
Cat swallowed back the expanding doubts and insecurities. She'd better be right the first time, because they wouldn't get a second chance. Space Corps Command wouldn't give them the opportunity, even if she managed to hang on to her sanity. "Let's carry out the plan, Doctor. Follow my lead. If you have any questions as we go along, remember to ask me later. If--when--we clear this first hurdle, we can work out the details once we're alone. Only a handful of people know what's going to happen next."
Cat reached across the desk, clasped Albright, forearm to forearm, warrior to warrior. "Nora, as good a doctor as you are, you're an even better friend."
Albright let out a slow breath, an obvious effort to stay calm. "In for a credit, in for a fortune, I always say."
Cat gave an extra squeeze of reassurance before breaking her grip. "Later, other key individuals will be told, but only as needed. Between now and the time Wulfe is released to go back to the Falchion, you will see the fastest shuffle of starcruiser personnel ever conceived. Not to mention the editing I have planned for the ship's computer and its logs."
Cat turned to leave the office with Albright. Unbidden, her most secret inner fear forced its way into her awareness. What if Wulfe really could remember, but simply didn't want or need her anymore? After all, he had Abandoned her once, and now she'd provided him with that all-important Bellon son. What stopped him from Abandoning her now? She tried to touch Wulfe mentally, failed miserably.
In reality, he'd Abandoned her already.
She felt another grain of sand slip through her fingers as one more degree of rational thought faltered.
Chapter 5
CAT FALTERED at the entrance to Wulfe's recovery room. She glanced up and down the corridor in the station's medical wing, delaying the moment, loathing the hesitancy that invaded her. If she approached Wulfe incorrectly, more disaster would surely follow.
Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3 Page 6