Dark Nadir

by Lisanne Norman

  Within a few minutes, L’Seuli was helping himself from one of the several large casserole dishes on the table.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve got any further orders for me, have you?” asked Kheal, helping himself to vegetables. “Something that would explain why we’re suddenly increasing our presence in space?”

  “Why do you think we’re here?”

  “Possibly because of some threat to Shola, possibly because of the new treaties.”

  “A reasonable hypothesis. I expect the troops are rife with speculation.”

  “And bets. It would be useful to have something concrete to tell them.”

  “I’m afraid I’ve no additional orders for you beyond remaining vigilant.”

  “I’ve been given two telepaths,” said Kheal after munching in silence for a few minutes. “Brother Vriuzu from Stronghold, and Sister Jiosha from our guildhouse on Nalgalan.”

  “So Jiosha’s been reassigned from Jalna,” said L’Seuli, helping himself to more stew. “I wondered if she’d be posted here. We started training at Stronghold together.”

  “Why have we two when the other outposts have only one?” asked Kheal, doggedly pursuing his point. “And why any at all? Normally they stay at the guildhouses to avoid recognition.”

  L’Seuli finished his mouthful. “How are you deploying them?”

  “You’re ignoring my question, Brother. Why?”

  “Did you know Vartra’s been seen in the temple at Stronghold? He’s been visiting our Brothers and Sisters with visions again. You did receive the directive on reporting all such occurrences direct to Stronghold, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, we received it.”

  “Don’t censor them. Send them all immediately, no matter how strange.”

  Kheal sat back in his chair. “Some idea of what we’re watching or waiting for would be helpful.”

  L’Seuli rested his elbows on the desk, watching him. “All I can tell you at this moment, Captain, is that four of our people are missing, and have been for twenty-seven days. Three of them are an En-Shalla Leska Triad. We’ve found some debris but not a trace of their craft so far—no drive emissions even. They’re out there somewhere, and it’s possible a message from them might come at any time. This outpost is nearest to their last known position.”

  “Whatever’s responsible for them being missing could be heading for Shola.”

  L’Seuli sat unmoving for a moment longer. “I did not say that, Captain Kheal,” he said softly, then resumed his meal.

  Almost word for word, he’d had the same conversation at each of the other three outposts, and each of their commanding officers had drawn the same conclusion. Inspecting the facility was almost a formality now he’d completed his main task.

  * * *

  The Clan Council meeting had been delayed by a week and they were sitting for the first time since Konis had withdrawn his resignation. As he looked round the chamber, he was pleased to note the wary looks on the faces of four of the newly appointed Clan Leaders. It wouldn’t do any harm at all for them to remain cautious of him for the next few months. He would not let Azkuu’s little power struggle be forgotten.

  He tapped the table in front of him loudly with his stylus, waiting for the chattering to cease.

  “Before we begin, there’s some long overdue business I have to attend to,” he said, picking up an official letter from the folder in front of him and getting to his feet. He walked round the table till he came to Naeul Arrazo, holding the document out to him.

  “What’s this?” demanded Naeul, taking it from him. “What’re you planning now, Konis? Isn’t it enough you’ve replaced four of the Council?”

  Konis ignored his outburst. “My predecessor should have seen to this years ago, Naeul. He didn’t, but the matter was brought to my attention and I’m dealing with it now.”

  Naeul had opened the letter and was reading it.

  Konis looked at Falma, nodded once, then turned back to Naeul as his deputy opened the door and slipped out.

  “That is your indictment for the crime of assault against your daughter Khemu Arrazo; for illegally imprisoning her on your estate; for falsely reporting her death to various officials, including the ruling Clan Lord; for failing to register the birth of your grandson, Dzaka Arrazo, and finally, when the cub was born, taking him from his mother and having him fostered, against her will, in your estate nursery. The Protectors are waiting for you, Naeul Arrazo.” As he turned away to walk slowly back to his seat at the head of the table, the door opened and a senior Protector entered.

  “Now look here,” began Naeul, getting up and angrily starting toward Konis.

  “You can argue your case with the judiciary, Liege,” interrupted the officer, taking him firmly by the arm.

  Rhyasha smiled a small smile to herself as she watched Naeul being led, protesting, from the room. The rest of the Council sat in stunned silence till the door shut behind them. It was satisfying to see them so rattled after what they’d allowed Azkuu and her little group to do, not only to Konis, but to Kitra. And finally, justice had been gained for Dzaka and his mother, Khemu. She hoped the poor female’s soul would now be at peace.

  “I remember that business with Khemu,” said Lossa, the first to speak. “She was supposed to life-bond with my eldest. What happened, Konis?”

  “Khemu Arrazo became pregnant and Naeul, fearing the scandal, told this Council that she’d died in a climbing accident,” said Konis. “He refused to let her see the father and locked her up in her room till her cub was born.” He stopped, looking over the Council members. “Naeul didn’t stop at that, though. He took the infant from her and placed him in the estate nursery, then moved his daughter out of the main house into one opposite the nursery, imprisoning her there. As he grew older, Khemu could see and hear her son every day, but was never allowed to speak to him. Naeul made sure she never forgot the shame she’d brought to his family.”

  “Naeul did that?” exclaimed Khayle. “I’d never have thought it of him!”

  “You were always a bit soft on Naeul, even as a youngling,” said Mnae with a cackle. “Never looked twice at you, though.”

  “Just as well,” snapped back Lossa. “How did you find out about this, Konis? What became of the cub? And why did she choose to become pregnant in the first place?”

  “More important, who’s the father?” asked Chaidda, his male voice deep among those of the females.

  “The father didn’t know about the cub till four years later,” said Konis. “As luck would have it, Khemu managed not only to escape, but to take him with her. She left him outside the gates at Stronghold for his father to find.”

  Khas’ih Rakula began to laugh softly. “I know whose son he is. His father’s the third in your son’s Triad, isn’t he, Konis? Dzaka is Kaid’s son.” She looked over to Garras. “One of your En’Shalla Clan. Father and son both, I’ll be bound. So the Brotherhood has had a telepath in its midst all these years.”

  Garras said nothing for now, letting Konis continue uninterrupted.

  “You’re right, Khas’ih,” said Konis. “Kaid found the cub and was able to foster him. He suspected who he was, but had no proof. Using his friends among the Brothers, he kept his ears alert for any word of Khemu Arrazo. When he found out where she lived, he went to her. That’s when he found out the truth of what had happened. She’s dead now, of a wasting sickness, but they bonded before she died. Dzaka has been entered in the records as her and Kaid’s legitimate son. He promised her he’d ensure Dzaka got his legitimacy, as Khemu had already given him her torc and knife. Today, the truth has come home to nest in Naeul Arrazo’s hall. May Vartra grant Khemu’s soul peace at last.”

  Murmurs of agreement went round the room.

  “Wasn’t Khemu his firstborn and heir?” asked Khayle. “If memory serves me, she was. That makes Dzaka his heir now.”

  “No,” said Rhyasha. “Dzaka is an En’Shallan, a gene-altered Brother with a psi gift. He’s an Aldatan n
ow.”

  “That’s the one your Kitra wanted, wasn’t it?” asked Mnae, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “Would never have done, Rhyasha. No cubs, y’see.”

  “You didn’t say why she chose to have his cub,” said Lossa. “We thought Khemu was pleased with our contract. I find it all very confusing.”

  “If I may answer that, Clan Lord?” Garras asked, catching Konis’ eye.

  “Please,” said Konis, relieved to be spared that answer. “You were Kaid’s sword-brother in those days, you knew him better than anyone.”

  “As you said, Khas’ih Rakula, Kaid is a telepath, but he’d suppressed it until he was with Khemu. He’d never known another telepath before, and when their minds touched . . .” He spread his hands expressively, leaving the rest unsaid.

  Chaidda gave a rumble of annoyance. “Too damned convenient,” he said.

  “Wasn’t he one of the fosterlings with Nuddoh M’Zushi?” asked Mnae, tapping her stylus against her comp. “Big scandal about Nuddoh some thirty-odd years ago. Got himself killed, didn’t he?”

  Konis began to feel uncomfortable as he saw all eyes turn on him again. From the surprised look on Garras’ face, he realized he couldn’t pass this one over to him.

  “Quite right,” said Rhyasha smoothly. “He was found murdered, and thank Vartra he was! He’d been abusing the younglings in his care for years and no one knew a thing about it till then. Wouldn’t you suppress your Talent if forced to live in circumstances like that?”

  Mnae nodded. “Remember it well,” she said. “Rhuna Dzaedoh got called in to help out. ’Course, didn’t call himself Kaid back then, it was Tallinu. He was all set to become her apprentice then he up and left, just like that, the night Nuddoh was murdered. Was another three years before the Brothers found him and brought him back.”

  Konis could feel them scenting more of the scandal but was powerless to stop them now they were on the trail. Any attempt to do so would only make it worse.

  “He killed Nuddoh?” asked Dzaio.

  “It was never proved,” said Rhyasha. “Charges against him were dropped. All that was a very long time ago, and it’s his son, Dzaka, we’re discussing.”

  Did he do it? Konis sent to his wife.

  Of course he did! Wouldn’t you if you found an adult male about to rape one of your fellow fosterlings? And he didn’t just run off, he told Noni what he’d done before he left. He was in a bad way, too, according to the records.

  How old was he?

  Not much older than Kitra is now.

  Had he been . . .

  Sometimes, my dear, you are touchingly naive! she sent.

  “What’re you trying to tell us, Rhyasha? That Dzaka has as good a background as any of us here?” asked Khayle dryly.

  “As far as I’m concerned, he has,” she snapped back. “But no, I’m not. I’m reminding us all that this isn’t the time or place for gossip!”

  “Point taken,” said Konis, seizing the opportunity. “A letter will be sent to the Arrazo Clan to invite Naeul’s successor to take over his place on the Council. My main business today concerns the arranged marriages that our heirs have to make as part of our breeding program.” While he was talking, he activated his comm unit, waiting for the screen and keypad to raise itself from the concealed recess in the table in front of him.

  “If you’ll look at your own comms, you’ll be able to see the data I’ve had assembled for you. Both graphs cover a fifty-year span.”

  When everyone was ready, he continued. “As you can see from the graph, despite our best efforts, the birthrate of Talented cubs among the main Clan families is dropping.” He looked up at them. “And before anyone asks, yes, it takes into account those lost to the En’Shalla Clan. So, our breeding program is no longer working. Now if you look at this chart,” he flipped to the next page, “you can see that the intake at the Telepath Guildhouses on each continent have gone up over the last fifty years. Which leads me inevitably to the conclusion that we, in this room, are breeding ourselves to the point of extinction.” He looked up again, taking advantage of the silence. “Either we abandon the breeding program completely, or we must introduce new blood into it.”

  “New blood?” exclaimed Lossa. “New blood? Do your charts tell us how many of those telepaths outside the main families are Grade Ones?”

  “Almost as many as we’ve had recently,” replied Konis. “Our bloodlines have become too inbred. We must open the program up if we want to survive.”

  “You’re scare-mongering, Konis,” said Chaidda. “Trying to push through alien ideas under the guise of a crisis.”

  “You think so?” Konis’s voice had an underlying purr to it. “Out of forty-six cubs born to our generation here in Kaeshala, our main continent, do you know how many were either Grade One or Two Talents, Chaidda? Eight, that’s all. And six had no trainable Talent. Tell me now there isn’t a crisis! And remember, we’ve lost both Szurtha and Khyaal. No telepaths from there to swell our numbers any more.”

  Chaidda looked uncomfortable. “I thought there were more than that,” he said.

  “I’ll not have my younglings marrying outside our families,” said Khayle firmly. “I don’t hold with your new ideas, Konis. You’re too ready to throw tradition to the winds these days.”

  “Depends what he’s suggesting,” said Mnae thoughtfully. “Cough it up, Konis. What you got for us?”

  “I’d have thought better of you, Mnae,” said Dzio, his eye ridges meeting in a frown. “You’ve always spoken up for the old ways.”

  “Seems to me the old ways aren’t working right now,” she said. “Been noticing that for myself lately.” She reached for the jug of water in front of her and poured herself a glass. “Take this history thing, now, and all the Humans digging up Valtegan bones. Seems to me if we’d been able to talk more between the guilds, they might never have been needed. We’d have known our history all along. Guild secrets made us stronger in the past, but we have to become a community now, unless we want some of them new aliens that’re joining the Alliance to take over our position at the head of the table. So tell us what you’re suggesting, Konis.” She raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.

  * * *

  It proved to be a long day, and one Konis had to fight hard to win, but win he did in the end. It was with relief he collapsed into his seat in the aircar he and Rhyasha were sharing with Garras.

  Opening the locker beside him, he pulled out three containers of c’shar. Handing two to the others, he pulled the tab on his can, waiting for it to heat up before taking a sip.

  “Gods, this tastes as foul as ever,” he groaned as Mnesu took off.

  “Still, it’s over—till next time,” sighed Rhyasha, leaning back against the seat, her can still unopened. “You got the changes pushed through, and backdated for those families that want their younglings to have a choice this time.”

  “I don’t know how you cope,” said Garras. “It would drive me mad doing this every two months!”

  Konis looked over at him. “You’ll get used to it,” he said tiredly. “I’ll be interested to see how Lijou intends to make eligible Brothers and Sisters available to our fragile Clan kitlings.”

  Chapter 13

  It had taken Carrie a while to realize what was happening to her, but when the fever and the stomach cramps started, she knew. Would Kaid understand what it was? There were several people who could tell him. He’d find a way to get them together again, surely. If she called for the Primes and told them, they’d know their Achilles’ heel. She had to let Kaid deal with it.

  Sitting up, the covers wrapped around her, she tried to stay awake. With Kusac, she’d almost slept herself into the coma. Not this time, this time she was going to fight it. Nausea hit, making her run for the washbasin. She’d eaten nothing for nearly four days, so all it did was leave her throat and stomach feeling raw and painful.

  Trembling, she returned to her bed just as the door opened. It was the Valtegan priest, and
he was alone. She recognized him from Kaid’s memories. The door closed behind him, sealing the guard outside.

  “Come here,” he ordered, his voice sharp and sibilant. “I wish to examine you.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, releasing her hold on the covers so her hands were free. “Only the Primes are allowed in.”

  “Don’t tell me what I can do. You’re the captive, not me. Come here!”

  “I’ll call the guard.” Under cover of the blankets, she began to slide her legs over the far side of the bed.

  He came toward her, tongue flicking out, tasting the air, and her fear.

  When she saw his skin began to darken, she jumped to the floor, putting the bed between them. She knew the signs from the days when her sister worked in Geshader as a prostitute for the resistance. Too many times she’d seen what had gone on through Elise’s eyes and experienced the pain and injuries they’d caused her while at the height of mating.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she repeated.

  “Call out if you want,” he said. “There’s no one to hear you. The guard outside is mine. He does what I say.”

  With the speed of a striking snake, he lunged for her but she’d already moved. Hissing in anger, he came after her, catching her by the hair as she tried to dodge past him.

  Screaming and clawing, she was jerked toward him. Her wrists grasped firmly in one of his hands, he took hold of her jaw in the other, pulling her face close. He started back in surprise as he saw her eyes. Vertical pupils—a hunter’s eyes—glared back at him.

  “Your eyes! Your sister didn’t have eyes like those!”

  She remembered him now! “I’m a mind-stealer, a telepath like the Sholans, J’koshuk,” she said, voice roughened by fear and hate. “Touch me and you’ll regret it. My sister laughed in your face, right until the moment she died. I’ll do the same.” Reaching out for his mind, she began to fill it with fear of her.

  She didn’t see the raised hand until too late. The blow stunned her, breaking her concentration. Dazed now, and weak from lack of food and the effects of Link deprivation, she could do nothing as he flung her down onto the bed.