Dark Nadir

by Lisanne Norman

  “So they won’t become part of the breeding program.”

  It was Konis’ turn to smile. “You think so? I’d say that they have their own program, wouldn’t you? How else could they ensure their gifts continued?”

  “Possible, but I’ve never heard of cubs up at Stronghold.” Sorli sounded skeptical.

  “With villages nearby, there’s no lack of foster families,” pointed out Konis. “And what of Dzaka? He had a wife and child on Szurtha. I’ll warrant there are more of them than we know. We’re seeing only what they want us to see of their numbers.”

  Sorli looked acutely uncomfortable. “I hope you’re not right.”

  “I’m speculating, Sorli,” said Konis. “Think of them as a Clan, like our Warriors. We’ve never had any trouble from the Warrior Guild. The Brotherhood have never been a threat to Shola, the reverse in fact, and they’ve been around since the Cataclysm. Why should we suddenly fear Stronghold?”

  “We won’t always have leaders like Father Lijou and Master Rhyaz,” murmured Sorli.

  “Even when Ghezu was in power, they kept very much to themselves.”

  “True,” he sighed. “Perhaps I worry too much.”

  “Nothing has happened to make us afraid of them, Sorli. I’m sorry I drew your attention to them. I really do think you are fretting needlessly.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, Konis. After all, you’ve had more dealings with the Brothers than the Telepath Guild.”

  Konis picked up the slight innuendo but said nothing.

  “What do you intend to do about Kitra?” asked Sorli, changing the subject.

  “I’ve chosen a life-mate for her,” he sighed. “Ashok Chazoun.”

  Sorli frowned, obviously trying to place him. “Wasn’t he the one whose betrothed died a couple of years ago? Some aircar accident, if I remember. Very sad.”

  “That’s the one,” nodded Konis. “His family wanted him to have time to get over the tragedy. They’re in favor of the match.”

  “Surely he’s a little old for her, Konis? He’s nearing thirty now, if memory serves me. Twice her age. He’s surely not going to be happy with a life-mate of Kitra’s youth.”

  “He’s younger than Dzaka, and they’ve agreed to an early marriage. Have you any idea how difficult it was for me to arrange this to suit our Council’s time scale?” he said, anger creeping into his tone.

  “I meant no criticism. It must be hard for you to be both Clan Lord and father in this matter. What about Rhyasha? Is she pleased with the match?”

  “She’ll have nothing to do with it, won’t even discuss it with me. Neither will Kitra. I’m an outcast in my own home, Sorli,” he said resignedly.

  Sorli regarded him speculatively. “It’s a pity Kaid is away. When do they return?”

  “We’ve no word yet, I’m afraid, but then they aren’t due to make contact for a day or two yet. Why?” The lie didn’t trip easily from his tongue.

  “As an Arrazo, Dzaka’s from a telepath family on one side. With Kaid home, his father could tell the Council of his own Talent. Kitra would have a sound reason for requesting him as a life-mate.”

  Konis raised an eye ridge at him. “When did you find out about Kaid?” he asked quietly. “That information is classified, only known to a few within my son’s Clan.”

  “I helped train him when I was at Stronghold. He’s as gifted as any Level One telepath, and given his son is a powerful empath. . . .”

  “How do you know that?” demanded Konis.

  “I asked Father Lijou for his records,” said Sorli.

  “It makes no difference,” said Konis brusquely. “Dzaka, like his father, is gene-altered, and the information on Kaid’s telepath status can’t be made public. The Council want a traditional mate for my daughter, one from the Clans. They’d never accept Dzaka.”

  “But he’s En’Shalla, and they’re a Clan now,” Sorli reminded him.

  “It makes no difference, I tell you!” Konis said harshly. “I cannot do anything! Don’t you think I would if I could? Do you think I’ve learned nothing since Kusac arrived on Shola with his alien Leska? Maybe if Dzaka, or Kaid if he were here, were to plead his cause with the Clan Leaders, they might agree to it, but Dzaka won’t! I’ve gone into it from every angle, Sorli!”

  “All of you have my sympathy, Konis. Kitra and Dzaka are so good for each other. I wish there was a way I could help them and you.”

  “Nothing short of a miracle will help them,” muttered Konis, trying to keep his thoughts away from the missing U’Churian ship and her crew lest Sorli pick them up. “And it has to happen in the next three weeks!”

  * * *

  Kaid came to with a start. He could sense the alien presences immediately, and without thinking, reached mentally for them before even opening his eyes. Nothing. There was a blankness, a space where he should have sensed at least a living entity. No scent either. The only sounds he could hear were the slight ones caused by the movement of body armor. The Valtegans hadn’t worn body armor.

  He lay where he’d fallen, sprawled on the deck, aware of T’Chebbi still within his arms. She was awake and lying just as still. He remembered a klaxon, and a blinding light.

  Slowly, he opened his eyes. Three soldiers were guarding the entrance to their hold. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the dark body armor and the slick faceplates on the helmets. The longer he attempted to look at them, the more difficult it was not to turn his head away. The sensation of nausea the sight of them generated didn’t do much to help his dull headache.

  He felt T’Chebbi’s finger tapping his hand in Brotherhood code. Do you see them?

  Yes, he replied. There was nothing to be gained by remaining where they were. He tapped T’Chebbi’s wrist in warning and releasing her, began to sit up.

  Looking slowly round the room, he saw nearly everyone was there, his own people included. Apart from the Cabbarans, the only ones missing were Rezac and Jo. Most of them were awake: only Taynar, Zashou, and Kate remained unconscious. Coincidence, or was he the first of the telepaths to wake? He tapped T’Chebbi’s wrist again, asking her.

  Affected telepaths for longer. Just woke myself.

  Movements from his left made him look round to see Tirak sliding cautiously across the floor toward him.

  “They’ve been standing there like that for the last half hour,” he said quietly. “Don’t know who they are. Never even heard of anyone remotely like them. Aren’t strong on conversation, either.”

  The hold door slid open and they fell silent. A figure, wearing a gray tabard over the body armor, entered. Following him were three more guards and the priest, J’koshuk.

  Gray-robe stopped a few meters into the hold. “This ship has been taken. It, and you, are now ours. You will accompany my guards to your new quarters. Attempt to escape and you will be shot. Disobey and you will be shot. Waken the sleepers. You leave now.”

  “So, the pirates have been outdone. At least this new lot are even-handed,” murmured Tirak as they got to their feet.

  Glad of the excuse to do something, Kaid and T’Chebbi began to rouse the sleeping telepaths.

  “Wait!” Kaid called as he saw gray-robe turning to leave. “Our navigators and two of our number are missing! Where are they?”

  The robed one didn’t even acknowledge him.

  “We think they’re working their way through the ship,” said Tirak. “That they haven’t gotten to Jo, Rezac, or the Cabbarans yet. Jo and Rezac were also the only ones hurt.”

  “That priest knows, though,” said Zashou, heading purposefully toward where J’koshuk stood with the guards.

  “No,” said Kaid, grabbing her. “Tirak’s right. Now isn’t the time. Later, when we know they haven’t gone on ahead of us.”

  Zashou looked hopefully at him. “Do you think that’s possible? Can you reach him?”

  Kaid tried and shook his head. “Nothing.”

  One of the guards stepped forward, waving his weapon toward the e
xit. “We leave now,” said his translator.

  As they filed out of M’ezozakk’s ship, they found themselves emerging into a large landing bay on a par with the main vehicle deck of the Khalossa. As they cleared the M’ijikk, to their left, beyond a wall of soldiers, they could see the Profit and numerous smaller craft. On their other side, M’ezozakk and his crew stood by an elevator under heavy guard. As they passed them, Taynar and Kate crowded closer to him for reassurance.

  Can you feel it? Zashou sent to Kaid. Can you feel the Valtegans?

  He could, and he had to strengthen his shields to block out the psychotic fear and hatred that they were projecting at the Sholans.

  It’s like an insanity, he sent. It’s universal with the ones in our time, a response they have no control over.

  A missile flew through the air toward them. Instinctively, Kaid pulled Zashou aside as the object, a metal belt buckle, was vaporized in midair by a vigilant guard.

  Retribution was equally swift. The beams from ten rifles strafed the group of Valtegans, dropping them instantly to the deck, where they writhed and shrieked in agony.

  “An object lesson to us all,” said Tirak soberly as their guards urged them to proceed to the rear of the hangar where an elevator stood waiting for them.

  There they were split into two groups, Tirak’s party being taken up first. Kaid used the time to look back at the Valtegans. Those already on their feet again were being loaded into the elevator nearest the M’ijikk. The General was one of the first to be taken. Of the carmine-robed priest, there was no sign.

  T’Chebbi dug him in the ribs. “The lift comes.”

  Herded on by their six guards, they’d barely time to turn around before the cage door clanged shut, closing them in. The smell of the air had changed, taken on an aseptic quality now that they’d moved beyond the stench of fuel and grease. Still no other scents—no sweat, no fear, nothing but the smells of his companions. He found that disturbing. The memory of their efforts to bring the first Valtegan captive to the Khalossa came sharply to mind. They’d made just such an effort to keep the ship free of their scents in order to prevent him from going catatonic with fear. But these people were doing nothing to allay their fears, quite the reverse in fact.

  He forced himself to look at the guard opposite, keeping his eyes away from the helmet. Taller than him by several inches, the guard’s armored body appeared stocky. The legs were straight, unlike his, ending in flat, booted feet. Extra protection, circled by a utility belt, covered the groin and hips. Arms ended in four-digit opposable hands, encased, like the joints of the suit, in a flexible scale of the same dense black. As the lift began to slow, he moved his gaze up to the helmet.

  Broad based, it seemed to grow out of the soldier’s shoulders and chest, making sideways movement of the head seem at worst impossible, at best, awkward. A translator grille was placed where one would expect a mouth to be, with slight depressions that might be auditory pickups to either side. But it was the visor that fascinated and repelled him. Black, iridescent, it wrapped almost completely around the head, taking on a spectacle shape above the translator grille—and it was impossible to look at it without feeling his gorge rise. The moment he looked away, the nausea began to retreat. He realized there was no lack of mobility and vision within that helmet, and no compromise on safety either.

  Beyond the guard, Kaid could see Tirak’s group waiting. The soldier he’d been studying turned aside to unlatch the gate and hold it open for them to leave. The aseptic smell was far more pungent now.

  Zashou clutched at Kaid’s arm. “Antiseptics! Do you think they’ve found Rezac and Jo? Could they be treating them?” There was hope in her eyes.

  “Possibly,” he said as they were led through a small door to their right into a corridor. He was only partly listening to her, his attention was focused on their surroundings, trying to find any point of reference to give him a clue as to the nature of their captors, and memorizing their route.

  The corridor was long and featureless with an automatically triggered air lock every hundred meters. They passed only one door on his right, but several on the left. The lack of doors made him think it likely that the medical area backed onto this corridor. Darker patches on the right-hand doors showed that signs had recently been removed—for their benefit.

  Lighting was slightly more subdued than they were used to, but the walls and the floor covering were blandly utilitarian in color.

  Tirak slowed down, falling back a little to join him. “Could these be the people the Valtegans are fighting?” he asked quietly. “Their treatment of us is almost hospitable by comparison.”

  Kaid grunted noncommittally, glancing around him as they came to a junction and rounded the corner to their right. A couple of hundred meters away, a closed air lock cut off his view. They were isolated from the rest of the ship. No risks were being taken with them. Before he could reply, the leading guard halted at an open doorway and gestured them in. Slumped in a padded chair was a very subdued Rezac, his neck and wrists encased in bandages. He stirred as they entered, hands gripping the chair arms, but he didn’t look up.

  Kaid pushed through the others as they clustered just inside the doorway, reluctant to go any farther into the room. “T’Chebbi, check the place out,” he ordered, gesturing at their new quarters as he made straight for Rezac.

  “Help her,” said Tirak to his crew. “Rest of you stay here.”

  “You were right, Kaid. I blew it,” Rezac said, his voice hoarse and low. The effort of talking was obviously costing him dearly. “I’ve risked my whole Triad. Sorry, Zashou.” His voice tailed off. Then, “Is Jo with you?”

  “No. We’d hoped she was here by now,” said Kaid as he squatted down in front of him. “You were afraid for her,” he said quietly. “It’s understandable, given her past history with M’ezozakk.” Behind them, the door slid shut and he could hear T’Chebbi organizing the search.

  “You don’t understand, Jo was in the hold with me at the end,” Rezac said, finally looking up at him.

  Kaid winced when he saw the state of his father’s face. Sealant glistened on cuts across swollen eye ridges and cheeks, dried blood matted his hair and pelt, stained his clothing. Anger rose in Kaid, and a surge of protectiveness that shocked him. He reached out, touching gentle fingertips to his father’s neck in compassion. “He did a good job on you.”

  Rezac flinched away from him, a strange look in his eyes.

  Zashou was not so restrained. Crying out, she rushed over to them, jolting the chair in her distress, making Rezac moan.

  Kaid fended away her questing hands, capturing them in his. “He’s been treated, Zashou. He’ll recover. It looks worse than it is.”

  “When a Valtegan bites a female,” Rezac continued doggedly, licking his cracked lips, “his teeth inject something like a poison. It changes them, makes them violent toward any other male. They use it on their females to ensure they won’t mate with anyone else. And there’s only one way to neutralize the poison.”

  A strangled cry made them turn round. The door had obviously opened again as Tirak had J’koshuk by the arm. “He knows where Jo is, don’t you, Priest?”

  “I don’t know where she is!” the Valtegan said, spilling the bundle of clothing he’d been carrying. “It’s as the Sholan said, she was in the hold with me before they came.”

  Kaid rose and in one fluid move, pushed Tirak aside and grasped J’koshuk by the throat.

  “Why? Why did M’ezozakk send her back?”

  But it was Rezac who answered. “It went wrong. M’ezozakk’s bite really poisoned her. He sent her back to kill me when the priest had finished. She’s dying, Kaid. I need to see her before . . .” He stopped, unable to go on.

  The noise had brought three guards into the room, rifles leveled at them. “Release the Interface,” one ordered. “He is not to be touched.”

  “Where is the female?” demanded Kaid, advancing toward them, dragging J’koshuk with him by the thro
at. “We know she’s dying. He has a right to see her before she does!”

  “Release the Interface,” repeated the guard, powering his gun up.

  Abruptly, Kaid released the priest, taking a step back. “He’s free. Just bring us the female. She has a right to die with her own people.”

  The lead guard hesitated as J’koshuk ducked between the other two and scuttled from the room. “She will be returned presently,” he said, stepping back as the door slid closed.

  Kaid ran to the door but it was already locked. “Dammit!” he snarled, pounding it with his fist. His decision to surrender was costing them all too much. First Tesha’s life, now Jo’s. What would her death do to Rezac and Zashou? And what of his Triad, of Carrie and Kusac? He rested his head against the surface. Nothing had been gained, and their prospects were even worse now than they’d been with the Valtegans.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder, smelled T’Chebbi’s scent. “This caring, it hurts too much,” he whispered, clenching his fists in helpless frustration.

  “I know.” She tightened her hand on his shoulder. “But we got work to do.” Bending down, she began to pick up the scattered garments that the priest had been holding.

  * * *

  The suite turned out to have five sleeping rooms off the main gathering area. Showers and toilet facilities were adjacent to the inner rooms. Heavy carpets covered the floors and each bedroom was equipped with several deep sleeping pads and blankets.

  “Obviously they like living close,” observed Giyesh as she and Jeran returned to the lounge.

  “Not necessarily. They could sleep in shifts,” said Sheeowl.

  Kaid had just finished searching the sanitary facilities when Rezac called him over.

  “You didn’t ask me what I told them,” he said quietly as Kaid squatted in front of him again.

  “I didn’t need to,” replied Kaid. “You told them as little as possible. I knew you wouldn’t let us, or yourself, down.”

  “Not a second time.”

  Kaid rested his hand on Rezac’s leg. “Were our positions reversed, I can’t swear I wouldn’t have reacted the same way.” He tightened his grip briefly before moving away. “Try and rest for now.”