strongholdrising

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strongholdrising Page 53

by Lisanne Norman


  “I am a vassal of the Prime Empire, Seniormost,” the cub said quietly, a hint of a tremor in his voice as he kept his eyes averted from the doctor’s face. “My purpose is to serve it.”

  K’hedduk nodded and released him, gesturing to the nurse to continue. When they’d left, he turned to Zhy’edd. “All eight successfully birthed,” he said, taking the other’s reader pad from him. “And only one exhibiting signs of brain damage. Not bad considering we only had the one dead hybrid fetus Chy’qui took, and the pregnant female.” He turned to go.

  “Not necessarily brain damaged,” said Zhy’edd as they began to head for the exit. “Slow is more appropriate. It could be natural, an inherited trait from her parents.”

  “The tests will confirm it one way or another,” said K’hedduk, unperturbed. “My main concern for now is that the programming has taken and they don’t exhibit any independence of spirit. They must know their place. They’re slaves, nothing more, and I want them compliant, not rebellious. Pity we couldn’t have kept them in until they were more mature. It’ll be four years before we can breed them. At least we were able to salvage the memory scan Chy’qui did of his captive Sholan. We don’t have to worry about training their telepathic abilities.”

  “The toxin levels…”

  “I know all about them,” said K’hedduk, irritated. “I made the decision to birth them now, remember?”

  “Yes, Seniormost.”

  “Go and help Doctor Zurok with the medicals, and remember, I want them treated gently for now. The collars are only to dampen their telepathic abilities, nothing more. And Zhy’edd, find out what Q’akuh is up to when you’re done! He should have had some news for us by now on the General.”

  “I believe the General’s off-planet for the next week, training the young Warriors on one of our ships.”

  “Get in touch with him anyway.”

  the N’zishok, Prime space, the same day

  Kezule had his ship. The N’zishok was a medium-sized destroyer, used for patrolling the border of Prime space. Heavily armed for its size, it was capable of taking on a couple of raiding ships were they foolish enough to attack it, but like the Kz’adul, its strength lay in its stealth technology and its intimidating exterior and armaments.

  Right now, Kezule had completed his rounds and was going off duty. The crew of fifty had been reduced to accommodate his fifteen Warriors. For this first cruise, he had them in nonessential positions with mature and experienced crew members. So far, they were doing well, but then he hadn’t expected any problems. The young males were aggressive, not stupid. They knew they were here to learn. Trouble would come when they decided they were more competent than their teachers.

  “The ship is yours, Captain,” he said into his communicator, stopping outside his own quarters and opening the door.

  His suite was the largest on the ship and boasted a small lounge, an even smaller office area, and a double bedroom with adjacent sanitary facilities. More comfortable than the standard military facilities he’d been used to in his time, it wasn’t quite up to the standard of the Kz’adul.

  Zayshul had made a nest of cushions on the sofa and was curled up there eating snacks. Her constant presence had irked him somewhat at first, but mindful she was there because he’d ordered it— asked her, he corrected himself— he’d curbed his impatience. Now he was not only getting used to her presence, but was grateful to have someone at his side, or to come back to in his quarters, someone who wasn’t overawed by his rank and to whom he could talk intelligently.

  “You have a message,” she said, looking up as he entered. “One of the young males that you recruited to help you with the training.”

  “Q’akuh?” he asked, unbuttoning his uniform jacket as he came over.

  “No idea,” she said, picking up another morsel of spiced meat. “It was forwarded here by your aide.”

  He’d contacted Q’akuh before they’d left, turning down his offer by feigning indifference to his wife’s fate. The incident had bothered him far more than their encounter with Kouansishus, the TeLaxaudin.

  “I had a message from the Medical Director,” said Zayshul as he threw his jacket over the back of the far end of the sofa. “They completed the tests on your officers,” she said carefully. “Their classes started today.”

  “And the others?” he asked, going over to the desk in his office and turning on the communicator.

  “The TeLaxaudin procedures were unsuccessful and resulted in the deaths of all fifty.”

  “Good,” he said, keying up his message and decoding it. “They’d end up having to be killed at some point. Better now than later.” He read it thoughtfully then deleted it, switching the unit off. Q’akuh was being persistent. Getting up, he joined Zayshul back in the lounge.

  “You’re very callous about those Warriors,” she said.

  He shrugged. “They’re a danger to us all, and a threat to my officers. I wouldn’t put it past those TeLaxaudin to have ensured they didn’t survive. Enough of them. What do you know about Q’akuh?” he asked, sitting in one of the chairs. “And the other young males who’ve been helping me.”

  “I wondered when you were going to ask me,” she said, pushing herself up against the cushions. “Most of them are all right— Zhafsul, Zolmoi, and Chiozo. But Q’akuh. I don’t like him. They all want something from you, but whereas the first three are prepared to work to be seen as attached to your staff, Q’akuh wants more. He wants you.”

  He frowned. “Me? How can he have me?”

  “I don’t know, but be careful of him. Whatever you’re planning, keep him out of it.”

  He surveyed her curiously, as if she were some strange creature he was meeting for the first time. “What do you know?” he asked slowly, wondering whether he’d been that transparent, or if she really had a mental ability like the Sholans.

  “Nothing for sure, but you’ve been preoccupied by more than your concern for the young Warriors.”

  “That’s so,” he admitted, wondering how much he could safely say, how much she’d already worked out one way or another. “This world, this time, it isn’t mine, Zayshul. I don’t feel at ease in it. And going back to my own time isn’t what I want either.”

  “I know,” she said quietly, her attention on the plate of nibbles. “When are you leaving and where are you planning to go?”

  “It’s that obvious?” he demanded.

  “Only to me.”

  “I want you to come with me,” he said, sitting up. “I never had any intention of leaving you behind.” That startled her, he saw with satisfaction.

  Her face composed itself into a neutral mask. “Of course. You want me to breed your dynasty.”

  “Not just that. I can talk to you.” He gestured toward the door. “In the past I had aides and those who assumed friendship with me, but there was always the politics behind them— the jostling for position, the plots. It’s the same now. Nothing’s changed at the City. There was no one I could trust.”

  “Why didn’t you just let the Prince die? You’d have become heir in his place.”

  Now it was his turn to be startled, at her choice of topic as well as the abrupt change. “There was no need. You know I don’t want to rule here. I want to get away! You Primes are no longer Valtegans— you’ve lost what it was that made us who we were. Even the way you breed is unnatural, it sickens me.”

  “I told you, without the TeLaxaudin and their growth tanks, we’d have died out after the Fall. And they did free us females,” she said pointedly.

  “All right, maybe there are a few things about your culture that are an improvement,” he admitted, “but it’s not for me, Zayshul. I want to get away from here, start again. Something better this time. What’s left of our people, whether it be the M’zullians, the J’kirtikkians, or you Primes, they’re wrong, unbalanced. Stagnant. Just as you can’t graft my Warrior culture into yours, you can’t graft Intellectuals into the other two.”

  “You’re p
lanning to start again with just you and me?” she asked, disbelievingly.

  “Hardly,” he said with a trace of acerbity. “What’s needed is a different approach. We need to turn the clock back to what we once were. Not separate castes but one. Warriors, Intellectuals, drones, and Workers— combined, with the best qualities of each. The speed, bodily control, and healing abilities of the Warriors, the Intellect of your caste now combined with the drones, and whatever it is the Workers have.”

  “Strength and tenacity,” she said dryly. “Where do you plan to get these people? Ch’almuth?”

  “That’s an option,” he agreed. “While we were at the Summer Palace, I was busy in the library going through past records and copying what I thought I might need. I’ve got charts, a way for you females to breed safely without the growth tanks, a ship, and several possible destinations. All I need is a crew.”

  “Birthing this egg safely has yet to be proved,” she said. “Getting a crew loyal to only you isn’t going to be easy. Is that why you’re asking me about Q’akuh?”

  “Not him,” he said, dismissing him with a gesture. “The others. Zolmoi, Chiozo, and Zhafsul. They were training with me and did well, considering their caste. I want a crew of useful people. Doctors, scientists, people like that, and maybe a few Warriors.”

  “Where did you get ideas like this?” she asked.

  He sat back in his chair again. “My time with the Sholans made me think about a lot of things. They beat our Empire with only a handful of well-placed telepaths who couldn’t even fight. Can you understand the enormity of what they did? They don’t have castes, why do we need them?”

  “But there have always been castes.”

  “Have there? I have memories of a time when we were all one species and females weren’t feral,” said Kezule quietly.

  She looked at him dubiously. “You’re talking of setting up a colony, Kezule. Fifty people is nowhere near enough. You’d need hundreds.”

  “It’s a start. We can get more from Ch’almuth. You’re young and the young here are restless, some are ripe for adventure. Draw up a list of professions we’ll need, see who you know who would be interested in filling them. And make sure you have more females than males.”

  “We’ve only one ship, with no infrastructure to support us if we need repairs or to build more. With such finite resources, farmers and miners are likely to be of more use.”

  “I have a solution for that, too. The old Empire had a network of outposts that protected its borders as well as the heart. I know where they are. Given that our three colony worlds were reduced to low-tech levels, I assume our fleets were also destroyed. They’re still out there, waiting for us to salvage them.”

  “What about the threat from the M’zullians and J’kirtikkians?” she asked.

  “Not my fight. You Primes have what you wanted from me, breeding stock. I want my own life.”

  “You really do believe in this, don’t you?”

  “Yes. You compile your list and when you have, we can discuss a way to approach them,” he said, getting up to go to the food dispenser. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that Q’akuh was part of the faction that Chy’qui, the Emperor’s late counselor had belonged to.

  “If you suspect Q’akuh is working against Emperor Cheu’ko’h, you must find out more.”

  “I’m not getting involved,” he said automatically. “You were the one urging me to be careful of what I said because of the Enforcers.”

  She stirred, pushing herself to her feet. “Kezule, look at me.”

  He turned round. “What?” he asked.

  “Look at me,” she commanded him.

  Anger rose in him at her tone, but reason reminded him she was just as used to commanding as he was.

  “You’ve demanded a lot of me, Kezule. This hatchling of ours isn’t all.”

  He looked, seeing her gravid belly as if for the first time. “I’ve said…”

  “Listen to me for once!” she said. “You’ve demanded a lot of me. If you want my help and involvement in this plan of yours, then I expect something in return.”

  Her impertinence took his breath away. The words wouldn’t come as he stared at her, mouth hanging open in shock.

  “You’d give something in return to a male colleague,” she challenged him, placing her fists against her hips. “Why not me? I’ll help you recruit your crew, and come with you, if you find out what you can of any plot against the Emperor.”

  “You dare try to force me?” he demanded, outraged.

  “You forced a marriage and a hatchling on me! Either I’m a colleague you can talk to and trust, or I’m worth no more than the slaves or pets you owned back in your own time! You make up your mind which I am, Kezule, because your plans for the future depend on your answer!”

  Skin flushed dark with anger, eyes narrowed, she was ready to take him on if need be. The males might lack the Warrior genes and spirit, but she lacked nothing. Walking toward her, hand held out, he began to smile.

  She swiped his hand away. “Don’t mock me!” she hissed, baring her teeth, her tongue flicking out as she checked the air for his scent.

  “I’m not,” he said, stepping back, aware that her temper was up and remembering their early intimate encounters. “I’ll do as you ask.” He emphasized the last word. “Only so long as it doesn’t jeopardize our plans.”

  She nodded slowly, beginning to relax her tense posture. “Leaving here is one thing, Kezule, being aware of a plot against the royal family and doing nothing is not acceptable to me.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” he said, holding his hand out to her again. “I’ll reply to Q’akuh’s message and we’ll see what happens.”

  Satisfied, she accepted his hand and his help in walking to the food dispenser unit to choose a meal.

  Chagda Station, above Shola, Zhal-Oeshi, 9th day (August)

  Since they’d been discovered stowing away on board the Odyssey, they’d been closely guarded by the marines. Now they were being transferred from the merchant ship to a small military corsair to be returned to Earth.

  As they left the gangway of the Odyssey, she hung back, desperate for any view of the station and the people who lived on the planet below. Shola had been their goal, specifically the Telepath Program. This was as close as they would ever get.

  “Get a move on,” said the guard holding her by the arm.

  She tried to pull away but his grip tightened and he began to drag her along the dockside toward the berth where their transport back to Earth waited.

  “C’mon,” she said. “Let me have a look at least.”

  The soldier glanced at her. “Kids like you don’t deserve a look,” he said, yanking her onward. “Ship leaves in ten minutes. You’re going to be locked up in the brig in three.”

  Ten minutes! She looked frantically over her shoulder at her companion.

  I heard, he sent as he was hauled along behind her.

  A group of five gray-clad Sholans stood ahead of them, isolated by the crowd in the middle of the busy concourse. They moved back, looking toward her and the guards and as they did, she saw two more wearing robes edged with purple.

  Concentrating, she reached with her mind, desperate for a chance to plead their cause.

  *

  “You’ll find Haven still full of construction teams, I’m afraid,” said Rhyaz. “You particularly, Sister Jiosha. The Shrine won’t be finished for several weeks yet, but I’m sure your presence as spiritual head will speed up the process.”

  Jiosha returned the Guild Master’s smile. “I’m sure it will,” she said. “So long as we can use the Shrine once a day, I’ll be content for the next few weeks.”

  “Excuse me, Master Rhyaz,” interrupted Lyand, “there’s a group of Humans coming toward us. Soldiers.”

  The group parted, turning to look at the approaching soldiers and their prisoners.

  “They’re very young,” observed Rhyaz. “I don’t recognize them.
Lyand?” he asked his new aide.

  “Not from the Telepath Guild, and certainly not the En’Shalla estate.”

  L’Seuli stepped in front of Rhyaz. “I think they expect us to move, Master Rhyaz,” he murmured as the approaching soldier indicated with his gun barrel that they should stand aside.

  “Stop them,” said Jiosha, a startled look on her face as she grabbed hold of the Brotherhood Guild Master. “The female, she’s claiming sanctuary with us!”

  “What?” L’Seuli glanced at her, seeing she was serious, then looked at Rhyaz for orders. There was a curious expression on his superior’s face, one that made L’Seuli gesture to Lyand before stepping in front of the lead soldier.

  “My apologies, Trooper,” he said. “We need to talk with the officer in charge of this detail.”

  “Captain’s on the Seattle,” he said, indicating a location behind the Sholan. “Have to hurry if you want him. Liftoff’s in nine minutes. Now if you’ll excuse me, we gotta get these young criminals on board.”

  “What have they done?” asked L’Seuli.

  “Not my business, Brother,” said the soldier, moving forward. “Now stand aside. I got a job to do.”

  “So have I,” said L’Seuli, halting him by placing a hand on his chest. “They come with us. Your Captain meets us on our ship in fifteen minutes.”

  The soldier looked at L’Seuli in amazement, then laughing, turned to glance back at his companions. The laughter died. Half a dozen more gray-clad Sholans had materialized from nowhere and the two prisoners were now in their custody. He felt his weapon grasped and with a sigh, released it.

  “On the Chazoi in fifteen minutes,” said L’Seuli quietly, gesturing to the Brothers and Sisters before turning to Rhyaz.

  “What the hell’s going on?” demanded Rhyaz as they followed the two young Humans up the ramp into the Chazoi. “Why did you interfere?”

  “They asked Jiosha for sanctuary,” he said, leading the way to his office. “Take them to the mess, Lyand,” he said over his shoulder, “and release them from those restraints.”

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Rhyaz walked over to the nearest chair. “I think you should tell me why you felt it necessary to interfere in the Humans’ lawful business, L’Seuli,” he said quietly, sitting down.

 

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