*
A few hours later, Story woke groggily. It took qer a moment to orient qerself. Qe noted that Cory, sprawled at qer side, was still sound asleep. Then qe thought to check...
Prater... are you there? But the cybernetic presence once Linked to qers was completely absent now. Story could not find a trace of it. Bapa will be upset, too, but Slimy fooled us completely and I couldn't help what's happened. Maybe Prater woke up back on Althaea? But the qild knew with a sick feeling that there wasn't any real hope there. It's gone for good. Dead.
Inexplicably qe thought of Crater, and felt a sudden, sharp pang. If we ever lost Crater, I don't know that Bapa could bear that. Or us. Prater... Qe mused that the Crater 0002 cybernism's personality and mind was far from being as highly developed and distinctive as the prototype. Is Crater one of a kind, then? A fluke? Will no other Crater-class cybernism develop into a person?
Sitting up, Story closed qer eyes for a moment. Crater was so real to qer, but already qe had forgotten Prater's voice. Crater was qer friend, even something of an older brother or an uncle to qer. Family. Prater had never been more than a pale shadow of a companion.
Story could hear Crater even now, joking with the twins, enthusiastically talking about the myriad of favorite subjects he studied with rapacity, speaking gently and carefully with their father when he sensed that his creator was struggling with his emotions as he recovered from his severe loss of a year ago. Or when Cory would burst into tears out of nowhere. It was Crater who was the promise of a future of happiness after their agony.
No, Story thought with determination. It was Prater who was the fluke, who never properly developed, whose personality never really jelled. I have to believe for Bapa's sake that his marvelous Craters will all be remarkable.
“It's gone, right?” Cory murmured softly from beside qer.
Opening qer eyes, Story glanced over at qer sister. “Prater? Yes. I was just thinking maybe there was something wrong with him. That it didn't develop much of a personality.”
She snorted and pushed away the spongy coverings they'd used for blankets. “It didn't have time to. But whether it was much of a character or not, it was still sentient.” Then her expression softened. “It's really gone?”
Story nodded and sighed. “Maybe its mind returned to Alpha? But that should be impossible, right? So I guess it's gone.” Qe didn't want to say “dead” out loud.
An unwelcome adult male voice broke in. “You realize of course that neither Slimy and I had anything to do with that... or with the reason why its mind even stayed with yours after we left your universe — right?” The voice had issued from the doorway.
The twins whipped their heads around and spied the entity who had returned to his leather-clad Human form. “How could we know that you aren't in this up to your...” Cory flopped a hand at the side of her head. “Ears, or whatever you have.”
“Of course I have ears in this form,” Scorpa said, grinning as he pushed off from the doorway. “And you're going to just have to accept my word. I know you don't trust me.”
“Can you tell if Prater is really gone?” Story interrupted, jumping up to approach the man. “I can't feel it at all. Could it have gone back to Alpha? Can it be restored?”
“Whoa, hang on, little dude or whatever you are,” Scorpa muttered, waving a hand.
“I'm a qild!”
“Right, that. Of course I can tell. If you haven't noticed by now, I'm really good at mentcepting and mentreading, to use your terms.”
“Story, wait!” Cory shouted, running after her twin, grabbing qer arm. “You can't trust him in your mind!”
“I want to know,” Story said firmly, shaking her off. “Just do it. I want to know.” Qe jutted out qer chin, looking up at the manifestation of the energy creature.
“Sure.” Scorpa sighed and put up a shield so Cory couldn't interfere. Which of course she tried to do, and growled in frustration at him. Then, using his superior mentreading power — which was one of the reasons Slimy had enlisted his help, that and his ability to access other minds — he gently slipped in to do a deep reading on the qild. It took but a single breath.
Then he pulled out and shook his head. “Sorry, kid, but it's gone for good. Like it was never there. Which is good for you. I don't think you'll have any ill effects.”
“Losing Prater is not good for anything!” Story retorted, then sagged. “Well, I was afraid it would be like that. I just really needed to know.”
“Qe's fine?” Cory spoke up, peering closely at her qother. “You mean something could have happened to qer because Prater... died?” The thought of Story becoming sick effectively defused all her ire against the entity.
“Fit as a fiddle,” Scorpa murmured, shifting his weight back on one foot.
“A what?” Cory asked?
I gotta stop reading unnecessary stuff, he thought, sighing. While on the Andromedea, he'd looked in on Crater's mind, and was astonished at the sheer massive volume of random information floating around such as ancient vernacular that the cybernism enjoyed digging up. That and all the medical stuff that was not interesting in the least. When Scorpa had realized that Crater's mind wasn't something he was able to easily merge with, he had let him go without interference.
Plus if he'd messed with the ship's brain, he'd have landed in hot water again.
I got enough enemies. “I have some stuff to tell you about our hosts,” Scorpa commented. He had to get on the twins' good side now. “They've got their own problems. You guys could be in danger.”
“I trust the Xandee,” Cory said with a snort. “Unlike you.”
“Yeah, well, I'm not saying they're the danger. They've got enemies who would not be happy to discover you here. This leader from the city — Gon Druxa-el — views this group here at the Cone to be a threat to their society. And it happens that you two resemble some other species around here called the Ruena. They could interpret your presence as their enemy collaborating with the group here. Not good for you, not good for them.” Scorpa glanced toward the door. “Oh, hey there.”
“He is right,” Dr. Xiel spoke up from the doorway, hovering. “I apologize for not explaining more fully or sooner.” He turned his head toward the man slightly. “I did not realize you were reading our conversation in the lab.”
“Hey, gotta look after the children, you know,” Scorpa murmured.
“Right,” Cory sneered, but Story nodded, relieved. “I'd rather know what's going on, no matter who tells us.”
“Now there's something else that you don't know,” Scorpa said to the scientist, nodding as well to Zanil and Qindo who were hovering behind him. “The kids' father is someone pretty important in their universe, and a powerful telepath.” He rolled his eyes. “I should know, I've been in his mind, too. Not easily, but I've been there.” As the twins' eyes widened, he shrugged. “It's what I do; what Slimy can't do very well. It's why he wanted my help. Anyway, that navigator on the Andromedea, the one who came to Hendor in that little starcraft... he's supposed to work with the twins on telepathy training. It's kinda urgent. Hmmm, Vekta Rentclifv wants them to do... something.”
“What are you talking about?” Cory and Story said together, shocked. “Do... what?”
Scorpa pulled his leather hat down a bit. “I don't know exactly, something to do with what's going on at Gozgazel? Remember Slimy wants to keep you from going there. That Kvaan was going to train you.”
Of all the telepaths on the Andromedea that Scorpa had managed to paralyze — and he'd only been able to do one of those at a time — Vekta Rentclifv had been the most difficult. It was a matter of bypassing the somatic nervous system to drop the person into unconsciousness and into a state of paralysis while preserving the functions of the autonomic nervous system, keeping them alive. Rentclifv had subconscious blocks preventing easy access all over the place, developed over years and years of Perseus Guard service in many dangerous situations with worse and na
stier telepaths than a pest like Scorpa. But even the ex-Starguard had succumbed to the energy creature's deft efforts.
“You're just telling us now. Whatever!” Cory muttered, frustrated. “What does Gozgazel have to do with us?”
Aware that the Xandee were stunned as well, Scorpa glanced at them, then back at the children. “I don't know exactly. There's this strange field that causes nontelepaths to black out. It just seems that somehow your father thought you could do something about it? I don't know! But if that Kvaan is the one he sent to you, then we have to contact him. Maybe through these guys.” He flicked a thumb at the Xandee. “If Kvaan knows that you're here, maybe Slimy can send him?”
Scorpa knew he was talking out of both sides of his mouth, desperately, trying to think of anything to get the twins to cooperate. He didn't see much potential in hanging around Xost Universe, and would rather go back to Alpha with the kids. At least in Alpha he could continue to hitch rides on Defenders, though not necessarily to be a pest. Unless he got bored again.
“Why would Slimy do that?” Story asked, bewildered. “And how could we possibly affect some field in the Gozgazel System?”
“Hell if I know!” Scorpa took a deep breath. “Look, don't you want to contact that navigator? He could at least tell your dad that you're all right!”
“We have to,” Cory murmured, biting her lip. If the Xandee didn't want them here because they were in danger — and Slimy didn't want them going near Gozgazel — and they were stuck in Xost Universe — they had to at least tell their father if they could. She didn't want to let the cold trickle of fear she was feeling along her spine get the better of her. “We have to do something!”
“You're doing this because you don't want to be here either, right, Scorpa?” Story muttered. “Fine. We're in this together. But if we get you back to Alpha somehow and if our father gets a hold of you... be prepared to pay for all the trouble you've caused.”
“Sure, whatever,” Scorpa said quickly. He had no fear of retribution. He knew enough of Vekta Rentclifv to know that the Dracon would never punish him for the harmless pranks on the Andromedea. No one had suffered any lasting ill effects; he'd seen to that.
“I don't think we can contact your friend,” Dr. Xiel murmured with regret.
“Don't be so sure,” Scorpa said, surprising everyone. “You can see into that universe... but we can merge minds with you and possibly make contact.” When no one said anything — staring at him — he grinned and shrugged. “Hey, we gotta try!”
“I'm not merging minds with the likes of you,” Cory snapped, then shivered at the thought.
“Just one of you will do.” He glanced pointedly at Story.
“I'll do it,” Story said quietly.
“No!”
“Cory, you're not thinking,” the qild murmured to qer sister. “This is a desperate situation. We're not trained in merging minds. Scorpa apparently is rather good at it.” Qe gave the man a look to indicate that this was not necessarily a good thing. “And one of us needs to be there for Major Kvaan to recognize. Well, he doesn't know me, but he may detect that I'm a Dracon and of course he knows who I am. So that's it: Scorpa to effect the merges, me to try to contact the major, and the Xandee to reach across to Hendor.”
“Then I'll do it, too,” Cory muttered. “I want to help.”
Story grinned quickly at qer sister, then looked at the Xandee director. “Can you help us with this, Dr. Xiel?”
The Xandee trio signed back and forth for a moment, then their leader was nodding. “We will trust that this will not be a harmful merging. Clearly your situation is a desperate one... and there is a potential danger to you in remaining here as well. We will allow this.”
Scorpa gestured reassurance with his hands, patting both twins on the heads as well, which caused Cory to snarl at him. “Of course, of course, no harm to anyone!” he said hastily. He quickly moved away from the girl, who looked like she wanted to bite him. “I'm really good at this sort of thing! Shall we all go back to the lab now?” He waved at the door, herding them back out.
“We can't even think about regretting this,” Story thought to qer sister as the group went back to the laboratory where the Xandee had earlier looked and spotted the Elektra and Stander Kvaan in Hendor. “Bapa is waiting for us... somewhere...”
15: Stander
The Defender Starship Andromedea was gone, returned to Alpha Universe with little hope but many fervent wishes. The situation was a bleak one: the twin children of Major Colonel Vekta Rentclifv had vanished without any clues to where they could have gone. Vekta himself could be in danger. He and Novella Aurand were probably still under the influence of the Eye of the Gazelle and supposedly hiding from Taree Imperial Khagan Korgovax. It could be some time yet before acting commander Major Austine Tauscher would find out where Vekta and Novella really were.
Major Stander Kvaan, alone in Starguard Jaime Cenntl's tiny Nebulae-class starcraft, watched without visible emotion as the big Defender winked out of Gamma Universe. It did not shake him that he could be the only Human in that entire universe.
What he was hoping to do was every bit as wild as Vekta's scheme to do something about the Eye of the Gazelle. Or wilder. Stander had no idea what he was up against, running mostly on an intuition to which he'd learned long ago to listen. He only knew with every fiber of his being that there was a creature in Gamma Universe that had a mind which held awesome power who had evidently interfered with and kidnapped two children. And seemingly had the power of interdimensional travel. But Stander knew nothing else.
He sat impassively in the pilot's seat, removing his awareness from the instrumental and scanner fields surrounding him through the Sixtheye, his mental senses finely tuned and listening. It's here, watching me, he thought, though he could not have said exactly how he knew that. Any other Human or even Dracon, sensing what he did, might have been filled with the coldest fear, but not this Dracon.
The natives of Alsafi IV as a subspecies had good emotional control, but Stander Kvaan had been raised in the Sect of Tryker Methodism, whose practitioners disciplined that control to a fine art and mastery. Emforming — controlling one's emotions — and emreading — sensing others' emotions — were developed far beyond what a usual Dracon teenager received in training upon reaching the age of sixteen. A Tryker Adept — and Stander was not that, not yet — began their training at nine, and had made this high control a part of their beings.
“Imagine your emotions are threads,” his master, the Dycsen of the Northern Tryker Temple on Draco, had said often, always through menttransmission; the initiates had never known the man to speak aloud. “Take each one out and examine it, analyze it, know it. Knowledge is the edge of your control. Separate the threads and manipulate them as if you're weaving a web, the design of which is strictly your own. They are your threads, your choices.”
Most Trykers were not, in fact, as dispassionate as Stander Kvaan. It was his choice. He had been trained to keep his calm and keep a quiet heart to the exact degree that he chose. And this he had chosen for himself, first as a scientist in NavEng and secondly as a Fleet officer. If there was a specific reason for this decision beyond professional needs, he was not aware of this himself, or would admit to it.
Vekta Rentclifv, in observing his new Chief Navigator, had suspected the Tryker connection. If he'd had any idea what would be required of this man now, he'd have known for a certainty that his choice was the right one.
If anything, a lack of emotional control was Polluxanvega's biggest flaw. At the moment, he was gloating, sneering defiance just beyond Stander's ability to detect. Defiant because he believed the two children of Vekta Rentclifv were dead and could no longer interfere with his plans. This flaw was about to show itself; Polluxanvega had an acute need to brag.
“I can't imagine what you think you're going to accomplish, sitting here!” the creature blurted out to the Dracon finally.
Stander did not eve
n flinch, so firm was his control at the moment. Plus he'd been expecting the energy creature to contact him. “Why,” he replied coolly, “I'm waiting for you to tell me where Vestor and Velcor Rentclifv are.”
Polluxanvega had expected the man to at least jump out of his seat. Irritated that he didn't get a rise out of him, he snarled back, “They're not only where you can't reach them, Dracon, but they're where even I can't reach them!”
Stander felt the cold threat of this statement, but maintained his calm. “And where is that?”
“It's death has them,” Polluxanvega cried, “and they are no longer a threat to my plans!” But even as he said that, the creature had to give pause. Weren't his plans shattered anyway? Korgovax had not defeated the telepaths on the Andromedea at Gozgazel. Korgovax did not have the secret to the Starlock mechanism. Korgovax would not be coming to Hendor Universe. There would be no alliance with the Taree.
However, a Dracon was here.
Stander sensed a shift in mood, which distracted him from the horrific possibility of the Rentclifv twins being dead. He was not ready to contemplate that anyway. Instead, he began to see the energy creature for what it was: a being controlled by its ego and lust for power.
“You didn't answer my question,” Stander calmly responded. “I asked where they were. If they are dead, their bodies are somewhere.”
“If you can find them, floating in space!” There was a sneer of contempt in the creature's mental voice. “By now their bodies will have—”
The Dracon cut him short abruptly. “I don't suppose you'd consider allowing me to find their remains so I can return them to their father. It is the custom of our race.”
“I know... but why should I?”
Stander had never actually encountered vitriol and sarcasm such as what the energy creature displayed. He felt a wash of dread for the twins and disgust for the creature. Yet his Tryker techniques were fully employed to keep him calm. And as a result he was able to see that the more Polluxanvega talked, the better he could understand and use the flaws in his reasoning. Driven by ego. That had been his strongest impression of the being's personality from the conversation recorded by Prater.
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