“Tables piled with blankets,” she said with a grin, as they walked down the corridor. “Annuur claims he’s got the best view.”
“They’re the official ambassadors for their worlds, Lydda. They’ve a right to see what involves them. Thank the Gods we don’t have any more ambassadors!”
“From my experience, these people are easy to handle. Not like the Chemerians.”
“No one’s like them,” said L’Seuli as they went in.
Tirak rose to greet him. “Thank you for this courtesy, Commander. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of inviting Jeran, as well as Kate and Taynar, in to watch. As civilians, they’d be the last to know what was happening to the people they lived with for so many weeks.”
L’Seuli frowned, then decided there were far more pressing matters to worry about than three civilians. “In the circumstances, I think we can overlook their presence,” he said. “I just came to see you were comfortable. There’s a drinks and snacks dispenser over there if you want anything. You may have a long wait, I’m afraid.”
“I just wish we could be of help.”
“You have been, Captain. Without you, none of our people would have escaped. Did you get your message sent?”
“Yes. The comms officer said it would be relayed to our home world as soon as the carrier left this sector.”
L’Seuli nodded. “Good. I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me now, I’ve got things to attend to.”
“Of course, Commander.”
* * *
Laughter drew Kaid’s glance over to the rear of the hangar, where Carrie and the others were being fitted with armored suits.
The smallest suits are too big for T’Chebbi and me, sent Carrie.
Where are they too big?
Leg length for a start.
What about torso?
You could get two of me in it! T’Chebbi at least has the body for it.
I’m on my way. He handed the list to his runner. “Get those items brought down here immediately,” he said. “You know where I want them put, so set them up when they arrive. Conscript anyone you need to help you. The mess is a good place to go for off-duty personnel.”
“Yes, sir,” said the junior, disappearing at a run.
He headed down to the suiting area. Carrie stood there, swamped by the gray formed body armor. “Cut it down to size,” he said, checking his wrist comm. “You’ve got an hour. She can wear a skin suit underneath to give her vacuum protection,” he said to the engineer in charge.
“You’re kidding! Sir.”
“No, I’m not! Get to it immediately! And get someone else fixing the legs for T’Chebbi at the same time. Have you checked helmets?”
“Helmets fit fine,” said Carrie.
T’Chebbi nodded, unconsciously giving her injured arm a rub.
“You up to this, T’Chebbi?” he asked.
“Sure. Just an ache, nothing more. Won’t stop me thinking or shooting.”
“Everyone else kitted out?” He looked round the others.
“No problems,” said Rezac. “Do you want Zashou and Jo suited up, too?”
“No, the command office has air locks and is pressurized in the event of an emergency. The four crew standing by to help won’t be suited, but they’re near the elevator.”
“How long now?” asked Carrie as the engineer helped her out of the suit.
“Three hours,” he said. “I’m getting some food and drink sent down for us in an hour and a half. Something light. It’ll settle our stomachs.”
“I didn’t feel this bad before my Challenge,” said Carrie.
Zhiko looked at her. “You fought a Challenge?”
“I challenged Kusac’s betrothed for the right to marry him,” she said.
“I’m impressed.”
“What she isn’t saying is it ended up a Blood-Rite to the death,” said Brynne.
“You fought a Blood-Rite?” asked Dzaou.
Carrie shrugged. “Didn’t have an option. She changed the rules in the middle of the fight. There wasn’t time to stop it.”
“You won,” he said.
“Just. I’d rather not talk about it,” she said, following the engineer into his workroom.
“Vartra was with her that day,” said Kaid quietly. “She nearly died, and she did lose her first cub. Back to work, people,” he said more loudly. “If you’re finished, go help our junior bring down the tables and chairs, or the medics their equipment.”
* * *
Chy’qui was working late in his lab, running through the data he’d acquired from J’koshuk before the TeLaxaudin had had to insert the main implant in him. He was correlating it to the answers J’koshuk had accepted from the Sholan, Kusac. There were certainly areas now where, judging from his previous sessions with the crew of the M’ijikk, he’d accepted answers from Kusac he’d previously have discounted as lies. And the M’ijikk sessions were before his neck implant was fully operational.
Had he been developing a form of telepathy because of the electromagnetic stimulation from the neck implant? Or had he been becoming unstable, as the TeLaxaud doctor, Kzizysus, had said? J’koshuk hadn’t been unstable in the sense Kzizysus meant. The point of the experiment was to see if it was possible to turn a warrior into a telepath, and to do that, he couldn’t suppress the priest’s aggressive nature completely. It would have been interesting to see if the trend had continued, but that was no longer possible. Still, he would find how the impulse generator and the main implant interacted. That in itself was a worthwhile experiment.
A knock on the door made him cover his notes up before calling out.
“Seniormost,” said Zhy’edd as he came in, making sure the door closed behind him. Approaching the desk, he held out a small container to Chy’qui. “The sample you asked for.”
“She got it?” asked Chy’qui, taking it from him. “How old is it?”
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. I waited for her in a room around the corner.”
“Excellent. And the drug. She gave him the drug?”
Zhy’edd nodded. “On her skin, like you said. N’koshoh said he was no trouble. Within a couple of minutes, he was as docile and obliging as she could want.”
Chy’qui handed the sample back to him. “Tell N’koshoh she did well. Prepare this immediately for storage in stasis with the others. Good work, Zhy’edd.”
* * *
“There must be some clothes left in the suite they were in. They didn’t take anything with them,” he heard her saying. Her tone was sharp, she wasn’t pleased with whoever it was.
He eyed the clock again. He’d been awake now for four hours. She’d fed him not so long ago, his first solid food in a week, she said. It had been something between a soup and a stew and quite pleasant. He’d begun to feel better after he’d eaten, but he still felt as if he was only half awake. Maybe getting up and walking around would help clear some of the fog from his mind.
Getting to his feet, he glanced around, wondering what to look at first. A day room, she’d called it. The walls were a warm gray, not particularly soothing though she’d said they were. A dining table with hard chairs, where he’d eaten, the soft chairs on which he’d been sitting. There was a unit with what looked like book tapes in it, and a large vid screen near the door. She’d said the vid screen was disabled right now, but then he remembered her saying a lot of things recently. Some of them hadn’t made much sense.
He decided to head for the door, but as he got close, it slid open unexpectedly, making him jump back in surprise.
“You’re looking around now, are you? That’s good,” she said, coming in with a gray tunic and a belt folded over her arm. “I’ve brought you some clothes. They were left behind by your friends.” She held them out to him.
“Thank you,” he said, taking them from her. This close, he could smell her scent. It was almost familiar. He sniffed again, trying to remember.
“Last night,” he said, reaching out to feel her face
with the fingertips of his other hand. Her skin was softer than it looked, faintly warm and pleasant to the touch. “Last night, someone came to my room. Was it you?”
She moved away from him, going farther into the room. “Not me. No one should have come near you except for your guard. You must have been dreaming.”
He turned to keep her in sight, noticing she did the same. The skin around her eyes was creased.
“She said it was a dream.” He returned to the chair, putting the belt over the back of it before pulling his tunic over his head. Taking up the belt, he fastened it on. “She put the light out as she came in, I think because she wanted me to think she was Human. She felt like one at first, but wasn’t. She was one of you.”
Zayshul came closer. “One of us, a female, came to you last night?” She couldn’t believe what he was saying.
He nodded. “She wanted me physically.”
“And did you?”
He gave her a slow, Human smile. “She was persuasive, for a dream.”
“What did she look like? Did she give you a name?” Who could have gone to him? Only Med Research staff knew he was here, and she was the only female who had access to him.
“I thought it was you. It was only a dream, so how could I see her or know her name?”
She took his hand, leading him to a chair and making him sit, before crouching in front of him. Taking a scanner the size of a small comp pad out of her pocket, she put it close to the implant under his ear.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier, Kusac?” she asked quietly as she pressed several controls.
“About the experiments?” He was beginning to remember now.
Glancing at the door, she continued. “Yes, that’s right. Someone wanting this treaty we’re proposing to fail, did things to you they shouldn’t have done. Experiments to do with your telepathy. You’re feeling content and rather forgetful, aren’t you? That’s because your visitor last night drugged you. I’ve done what I can to counteract it, but you must fight it and try to remember what I told you. Tell your people they mustn’t let this person win. We need this treaty with Shola!”
He frowned, touching her face again. “You’re frightened. Why?”
“A friend trying to get more information for me has disappeared, and last night while I was out, my office was torn apart. They were looking for something, but I don’t know what.”
“You’re taking me back to my people. Come with me,” he said on impulse.
“I can’t.” She put the scanner back, then froze, pulling another container out of her pocket and looking at it before hastily stuffing it back in. He saw her skin had suddenly paled.
A siren sounded outside. Three short blasts. “We have to go now.” She stood up, grasping his hand and pulling him to his feet. “You’re not just some big, dumb creature, are you? You’ve been drugged all along. You’ve got to fight it, Kusac!”
The door slid open to admit two guards in armor.
“We’re ready,” Zayshul said.
They came over to him, each taking him by an arm, and led him out into the corridor.
When they reached the landing bay, a shuttle stood waiting for them. Boarding it were armor-clad Primes, several of them wearing the gray over-tabard of the Seniormost. As his guards led him toward it, he looked over his shoulder for her, seeing her being helped into her armor. Beyond her, he could see the red-robed priest emerging from the elevator cage.
Something stirred in his memory. He reached for it, teasing it, but it refused to surface.
Chapter 19
THEY stood against the wall by the elevator in the landing bay, watching as the Primes’ shuttle maneuvered into the position drawn out for it on the deck. As it settled to the ground, the whine of the engines began to slow to a gradual stop.
Kaid glanced down the line at Carrie, Vriuzu, T’Chebbi, and L’Seuli, who, like himself, were helmetless. “You hear the siren, go for your helmets,” he reminded them quietly. The rest, designated as guards, were fully armored.
Dzaou led his group forward, rifles at the ready as they formed a line forty yards from the shuttle’s air lock. As the iris opened, the first of the Prime guards appeared. In quick succession, seven of them emerged, armed with energy pistols. They fanned out ten feet from their vehicle, giving cover to their negotiators as they came down the ramp. J’koshuk’s unprotected body and red robes stood out visibly against the black-armored Primes.
Keep calm, Kaid sent to Carrie as he felt her stiffen beside him. He can’t get near you. If he tries, he’s dead.
Kaid led the rest of the group across the deck to take up their positions behind Dzaou. As L’Seuli, Vriuzu, and Lydda formed a third rank, Brynne neatly stepped past Kaid to stand behind Rezac.
“Open order,” murmured Dzaou. The front rank parted, allowing Kaid and Carrie through. At the rear, L’Seuli moved forward to take their place, leaving Vriuzu and Lydda in the rear rank.
“Close order,” said Dzaou, and the ranks closed up. Now they were ready.
From the other side, a figure wearing the gray tabard of a Seniormost stepped out from behind the guards. He wore no helmet, and Kaid noticed his tabard was edged with gold.
Link with me, he heard Carrie send to the other telepaths. He sensed the network build until she drew him into its web to complete it. Through it, he became more aware of those around him, and the Valtegan standing opposite.
“I am Commander Q’ozoi, of the Kz’adul,” the Valtegan said.
Kaid remained where he was. “I’m Kaid Tallinu. I speak for Commander Kheal of Haven, and the people of Shola. I believe we have hostages to exchange.”
“We have, but that’s only part of our purpose. We wish to negotiate a treaty with you. An alliance against a common foe.”
“Hostages first,” said Kaid firmly. “What better measure of good will can we show each other?”
“As you say. You have a member of my crew. Zsurtul.”
“We have Prince Zsurtul,” corrected Kaid. “And you have Kusac Aldatan.”
Commander Q’ozoi made a gesture of embarrassment. “You indeed have our Prince. Let me see him and I’ll have Kusac brought out.”
Kaid raised his hand in a signal to the medics still standing by the elevator. They parted, revealing Prince Zsurtul standing in the charge of Banner. Leading him forward, Banner escorted the Prince toward the Sholan group, taking up a position with him at the end of the front line beside Maikoi.
“You can see that your Prince is safe and well,” Kaid said. “Now Kusac.”
Q’ozoi turned to a guard, issuing a guttural command, then waited while he ran to the shuttle, shouting up to someone inside. At the open air lock, two armored figures, one without a helmet, emerged holding a wrist-cuffed Kusac by the arms.
Kaid could hear Carrie sucking in a gasp as she saw him, felt her shock ripple through their web. Kusac looked dazed and confused, and at one side of his neck, the hair had been shaved back.
Cold and calm, he reminded her. Can you pick him up at all?
No. There’s nothing, not even a sense of him being there.
Then he’s either drugged or they’ve got a damper on him.
The air in this landing bay was chill and held familiar scents. The guard gave Kusac a shove, urging him out.
“Don’t push him,” Zayshul said angrily.
A shiver ran through him as he began to walk down the ramp. The lights were bright in comparison to what he was used to, making him blink rapidly, trying to ease the discomfort.
“You have seen Kusac,” he heard someone say. “Now show us Kezule.”
“After we have Kusac.”
The voice sounded familiar. He tried to remember.
“That’s not acceptable.”
“My decision is non-negotiable.”
It was Kaid.
“This is Haven,” said Zayshul quietly as they came to a stop. “You remember Haven? You told us to bring you here.”
He nodded. The chill a
ir, coupled with the cold of the deck beneath his feet, was making him shiver after the warmth of the shuttle. He moved his hands, feeling the weight of the cuffs round them. “The collar. Do I still wear it?”
She looked at him closely, examining his face, then shook her head. “No, I removed it several days ago. It should never have been put on you. It’s a punishment collar and rarely used.”
He looked around, seeing only the wall of Seniormost and Prime guards. Then he saw the red robe in front of him.
“J’koshuk,” he said quietly.
“Yes, the priest.”
A figure to one side of them turned round and scowled. “Zayshul. You should be here with the commander,” Chy’qui said, trying to keep his voice low. “Leave the hostage with the guard.”
“I have to go,” she murmured as she left his side. “Remember what I told you.”
The guard took him forward to stand in the open in front of the priest. Memories of his imprisonment were beginning to drift back. Hadn’t J’koshuk tried to stop one of the Primes from beating him?
Frowning, he looked across the open space at the group of armored figures opposite. Sholans. Some he knew. Was that Carrie? It must be. She’d been on the ship with Kaid, and he was here. He could see him now, talking to one of the Primes. The priest had said Carrie and Kaid were safe, but she hadn’t been. Then he saw the sand-colored Valtegan at the end of their line. He recognized him instantly. Zsurtul—the one who’d beaten and tortured him.
Slowly at first, his anger began to build. His pelt was starting to rise, bushing out around his neck and shoulders, making his hair stand away from his scalp. A draft of air from behind brought a scent to him, a scent he knew only too well. The priest’s. J’koshuk had wanted information about Carrie, information he’d tried to keep from him despite the beatings. He frowned as another memory contradicted this one. How could it have been the priest? It was the one standing with his people, Zsurtul, who’d done that. Those memories of being repeatedly struck by Zsurtul’s hands were so clear. But scents didn’t lie, and the scent that filled his nostrils when he remembered the pain came from behind him, not in front.
He was confused, and his head had begun to hurt. He shook it, hearing her voice again. What had she said? Remember. Remember to . . . Fight. He was to fight. Fight what? Or was it who? Frustrated, anger surged through him again, and as the hair on his spine began to rise, he began to sway his tail in short, infuriated arcs. As the guard jerked him forward, pain lanced through his head, making him shake it again.
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