Razor's Edge

by Lisanne Norman

“Then we observe the situation and try to get them out.”

  “Who’s going in?”

  Kaid sighed. “Well, we can have two teams. You inside the spaceport and us on the outside. Hopefully our four enslaved Sholans are close to the port, which means you can concentrate on that area while we—Conrad, Quin, and I—head out for Kaladar. That’s a working hypothesis, at least. The reality is going to be wait and see till we arrive on Jalna.”

  “We’ve got to be flexible,” said Kusac. “A major consideration is how violent these people are.”

  “They’ve got to have a system for dealing with it, though, or they wouldn’t have evolved to even this level,” said Carrie. “What about Jo? Surely she observed their culture long enough to draw some conclusions and report them?”

  “She saw nothing to support the Chemerians’ allegations,” said Kaid. “However, the indisputable fact remains that all the species that trade there want the Jalnians to remain planet-bound.”

  “Have we a detailed map of the spaceport?”

  Kaid handed it to her. “It’s a fairly standard layout, given that they’re providing the combined facilities of an orbiting satellite and a ground port facility. The main difference is that the traders and spacers only have access to the port itself and the traders’ town, the planet being interdicted by the Port Lord. Just as the alien traders don’t want the Jalnians in space, so Bradogan doesn’t want aliens and off-world goods freely available on his world. He controls what goes in and out of Jalna.”

  “Sounds more bother than it’s worth.”

  “According to the Chemerians, it’s a convenient meeting point for trade for the species involved.”

  “So we’re almost as much in the dark as Jo’s team was. What happens if we get caught, too?” Carrie looked at both of the males in turn. “I realize the Alliance doesn’t want any kind of incident at Jalna—presumably they’ll make contact at some point—but how dispensable are we?”

  “We aren’t. Raiban says there are two main options. One, send in the Sumaan and get us out by force, or two, First Contact. Her people approach the leader of the alien Port police and negotiate our rescue. However …”

  “We make sure we don’t get caught in the first place,” interrupted Kusac, reaching out to clasp Carrie’s hand with his. “The basic approach is that I, as a U’Churian, am traveling with a Chemerian trader learning his craft. Apparently some Chemerians do this. Since you can’t pass as a Jalnian with those eyes, you’re a member of a new species we’ve just contacted, a Solnian. You’re their representative to Jalna, checking out the trading opportunities there.”

  Carrie looked skeptical. “What about the other U’Churians? Won’t they wonder why they’ve never heard of my people?”

  “We met you at the Chemerian home world. Our ship is still there,” said Kaid smoothly. “Kusac’s family was offered a contract to escort you here, let you meet the people, see the goods, and assess the potential markets. All acceptable practice according to the Chemerians.”

  She made a noise not unlike a growl. “Too much depends on what the Chemerians say. They got us into this mess with their double standards! If they’d been honest about Jalna in the first place, none of this would have been necessary. How do we know they aren’t still lying?”

  “Again, we don’t. So far, what they’ve said has either been accurate or not disproved, like the issue of violence.”

  “We’re going in too blind,” said Carrie. “I don’t like it.”

  “Most missions aren’t much different,” said Kaid, leaning back and stretching his neck and shoulder muscles. He was feeling cramped from sitting studying the papers for so long. He’d have to put up with it, though. At least at Stronghold there was the exercise yard and the gym. “You’ll get used to it. If it were straightforward, the Brotherhood wouldn’t be needed.”

  Zhala came in with a tray of sweet pastries and coffee which she put down at the end of the table for them.

  “Impeccable timing. Thank you,” said Carrie, grinning at Kusac as she pulled the tray closer.

  Kaid tidied the papers and maps back into their folders. “I’m leaving for Stronghold after second meal,” he said quietly. “Father Lijou’s expecting me.”

  “How long will you be away?” asked Kusac, passing the plate of pastries over to him as Carrie began refilling their mugs.

  “Several months.” Despite his personal damper, he felt the crystal warm against his chest, and with it came the shock Carrie felt at what he’d just said. She didn’t show it though, he thought with pride. She’d paid attention to his tuition. “I’ll be helping to set up the new curriculum for training priests. It’s important work. Garras will keep me posted. If there’s a problem, I’ll get in touch.”

  Carrie handed him his mug. “Will you be living there?”

  “Yes. As I said, I need some time to straighten things out in my own mind as well as learn how to use my telepathic abilities properly.”

  “The time will pass quickly for all of us,” said Kusac. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

  Something drew Kaid’s attention toward the door and, as he looked toward it, a familiar wave of dizziness swept over him. The door burst open. Dzaka stood there, Kashini held close against his chest, pistol in his free hand. Even as Kaid leaped to his feet, gun drawn, the scene had begun to fade.

  “What is it?” demanded Kusac, instantly at his side. “What do you hear?”

  “The wind,” he muttered, reholstering his gun. “It must have been the wind.” It was getting worse! The episodes were more frequent now, and so short, they were of no use to him as a guide to what might happen. In the past, they had only come when he was meditating. Now he couldn’t guarantee one wouldn’t dominate him during a life or death situation.

  The door opened, making him swing his head round sharply again. Dzaka entered—but he wasn’t carrying the cub, and there was no sense of urgency about him. Kaid’s blood ran cold at the thought of what could have happened had his son arrived a moment or two earlier.

  “The aircar from Stronghold’s here, Father,” he said. “I’ve put your bag on board.”

  If anything else was needed to convince him he had to leave the estate, this had. He had to go to a place where he’d cause the least harm if things went badly wrong for him—somewhere where they could deal with him quickly, where they wouldn’t hesitate to do what was necessary.

  Relieved, he nodded and turned to say his good-byes.

  Carrie came forward to hug him. She felt soft in his arms, smelled of milk and motherhood. It awakened memories of other visions and hurriedly he let her go.

  “Take care,” she said. “Stay in touch.”

  She’d neither said nor sent anything, but still he’d felt her hurt as he’d held her. Flicking an ear in acknowledgment of what she said, he held out his palm to Kusac.

  His Liege looked at him, then slowly shook his head. “No,” he said, coming closer to embrace him. “I’ve told you before, Kaid. You’re family, an Aldatan if you wish it. My brother.” He grinned as he let him go. “Hell, I need one with all the females around me! Even Taizia’s and Meral’s cub was a female!”

  Kaid’s mouth opened in a small grin despite himself.

  “Have you seen T’Chebbi?” he asked once they’d left the kitchen.

  “Passed her on her way to the ruins,” Dzaka said. “Told her you wanted a word, but she said later. Is there a problem?”

  “No.” They hadn’t spoken privately since their night together, but perhaps it was better this way.

  The Valtegans or the Jalnians, it made little difference to Rezac. They’d won free of one set of guards only to wake up to another. Both species had stolen his liberty, abused him and his Leska, and forced them to do their will. Anger surged through him again, and this time he didn’t need to conceal it. On the other side of the room, Zashou lay deeply asleep. For now there was none of her disapproving presence at the center of his mind and thoughts, no criticism of him for the ef
fort wasted in hating their captors.

  Tail flicking in irate jerky movements, he pushed himself away from the castle window and began to pace up and down his end of the room. It had been a bad day, but then it often was in the run up to their Link day. Zashou had never been good at hiding her resentment of their Link. At best he always felt a cool distancing and reserve from her, at worst, out-and-out dislike, though thank the Gods, those occasions were rarer since they’d awakened on this strange world.

  Today he’d gotten into a row with her over the Humans. He was still suspicious of them, they looked too like the Jalnians for comfort, whereas she believed implicitly in them, even down to the frankly ridiculous claim that the mind that had answered his cry had been a Human mind, Leska-linked to a Sholan! Whoever had sent had been undeniably Sholan, of that he had no doubt. He’d touched enough alien minds in the last year to know the difference. Even Zashou hadn’t been able to argue against that reality despite what the Humans said. The one thing that they all clung to like a lifeline was that the Sholans would come for them. But when? At least so far, this Lord Killian had been reasonable. They were being held in decent rooms and fed palatable food. Now they waited for better weather so that they could go to the crash site and examine the scouter for onboard weapons.

  Agony shot through his foot as he stubbed a toe against the chest by the window. Biting back the cry of pain, he flung himself down on the pallet by the fire. Soon enough he’d be able to share the bed with her again. Lying there, massaging his foot, he let go of the anger and allowed the heat from the fire to warm him into a reluctant drowsiness, wondering for the thousandth time how it had all gone so wrong from the start.

  Tiernay stood near enough the window to look out without being seen. Of the six in the lab, he had the longest telepathic range, able to pick up the alien presences from nearly a kilometer away.

  They sky was clear, the sharp, bright blue of winter. The Valtegan airborne troop carriers would be visible long before he could hear or sense them—if they came from that direction.

  At the doorway, he stood with Jaisa and Shanka, Jaisa watching through the side window, he and Shanka keeping an eye on the corridor.

  “Hurry up, Dr. Vartra,” said Tiernay. “I want us out of here as soon as possible. You should have moved into the monastery with us days ago. You know how risky this is for all of us, you especially.”

  “While the equipment at the monastery is adequate, Tiernay, since I still have access to the college analyzer it makes sense to use it. It’s saved me weeks of testing and correlation,” said Vartra, continuing to pack each vial in its rack bed in his briefcase. “Zashou, have you got the last of my notes and the computer data from the safe?” he asked.

  “All done,” she said, resting the cardboard box on the bench beside him. It was heavy. She examined a clawtip, and finding the snag, chewed it off absently as she watched the geneticist.

  “They’re coming,” said Tiernay. “Three aircars—about twenty soldiers, I reckon.”

  Zashou reached forward for a slim box lying beside Vartra’s case. “How long?” she asked, opening the box. Inside lay the faculty’s only pressurized hypoderm gun.

  “Maybe five minutes,” he said.

  Zashou sensed the others getting ready, swinging guns off their shoulders, switching off the safety catches.

  “There’s three more craft coming from this direction,” said Rezac from the side window. “They’re definitely here for you, Doctor.”

  “Almost finished,” Vartra said, reaching for the last vial.

  Zashou’s hand closed on it first. “No. We’ll use this one,” she said, uncapping the vial and fitting it into the hypo.

  “What?” said Vartra, his hand stopping in midair. He watched, mesmerized, as the Sholan female moved one of her skirt panels aside and, parting the fur on her thigh, applied the hypo, and pressed the trigger.

  Rezac, sensitive as always to the mood of the group, swung his head around, sized up the potential situation, and unhurriedly moved to Vartra’s side.

  Zashou looked up at the doctor, rubbing her leg briefly. “That case you intend to carry contains the only Sholan samples of your enhanced gene. If anything happens to you or it, then all your work will be lost. We can’t take that risk, Doctor. If the gene is carried in us as well, then we can ensure that enough of it reaches the monastery to infect all the telepaths on Shola.”

  “Zashou, my work is still experimental! I haven’t finished correlating the data yet!”

  “It’s ready to test on Sholans now,” she said. “The animal trials were more than successful, we all know that from our work in the lab with you. And on the simulated tests you ran last night, the computer results were positive. The gene will enhance our telepathy, and breed true, as it did in the jeggets.”

  “We haven’t time to discuss this now,” said Tiernay, striding over to them, gun at the ready. “They’ve landed in the vehicle park. We must leave immediately!”

  “Zashou’s right,” said Jaisa, leaving the doorway. “It’s as near perfect as you’re going to get it, Dr. Vartra. Too much depends on the contents of that case to leave it to chance. Zashou, I’ll carry the gene, too.” Propping her foot up on the rungs of a stool, she bared her thigh.

  “No!” said Vartra, making a snatch for the hypoderm as Zashou held it against Jaisa’s leg.

  Rezac grasped hold of the doctor, pulling him back from the two females.

  “This is utter madness, Zashou! Have you forgotten what the early side effects were in the jeggets? You could be risking epilepsy—insanity—perhaps even death by using it now!” He struggled in Rezac’s grip.

  “We haven’t any choice,” said Rezac. “It’s going to spread whether we want it to or not now that the females are carriers. Anyway, Zashou’s right. If we get out of here without a fight, we’ll be damned lucky. The more of us carrying the gene the better.”

  “Go ahead, Zashou. I’ll take it next.” He inclined his head toward the female.

  Zashou stepped around Vartra to Rezac’s other side. A moment later it was done.

  “Who’s next?” she asked, looking challengingly round the room, the beaded braids in her hair chiming as they moved. “What about you, Shanka?” she asked her mate, heading toward him.

  Shanka was keeping his eyes on the Valtegan craft coming in to land on the lawn at the side of the science building.

  What the hell possessed you to do that? he sent. His tone was one of cold fury.

  If we don’t get out of here alive with the serum, then our one chance of beating the Valtegans is gone, she replied.

  Vartra has the right of it, it’s not ready yet! This whim of yours could cost us all our lives!

  Our lives aren’t worth much anyway, now that the Valtegans know we have telepaths. Are you going to take the serum or not?

  What choice have I? He turned on her, his brows creased in anger, ears flicking backward. Your actions will infect us all within the week. Whether I take it now or wait to catch it from you, I face the same risks. Do it and let’s leave.

  His leg jerked slightly at the sting from the pressurized spray.

  Vartra, meanwhile, had stopped struggling with Rezac. Defeated, he slumped down on the stool beside his bench. Rezac released him.

  “Zashou, get over here and do me, then we can close Vartra’s case and leave,” said Tiernay. “Might as well stick together in this as in the rest,” he grinned.

  Moments later the hypo was packed into the briefcase and it was closed.

  “Come on, Dr. Vartra. You can argue it out with us later,” said Zashou, touching his hand with her fingertips.

  “You’re brave fools,” growled Vartra, picking up the case and getting to his feet. “I just hope you’re right and it is ready to use, otherwise it won’t need the Valtegans to wipe us out.”

  Zashou picked up her box and followed the others out into the corridor.

  Tiernay took the rear guard, ordering Rezac to the front. They were hea
ding for the east wing where a small van waited for them in the internal delivery bay. Nyaz had remained with it.

  We’re on our way, Nyaz, sent Rezac, his feet moving silently over the tiled floor of the corridor as he scouted ahead.

  Keeping his gun out of sight, he moved quickly past the busy labs to where the corridor branched left and right. On the wall beside him was the fire alarm, the button set into the wall behind a protective piece of glass. He glanced round the corner. All clear, good. With a warning thought to the others, he raised his pistol butt and struck the glass.

  The siren wailed out, building rapidly to an ear-splitting pitch. Around them doors were flung open and students began to stream out, jostling and shoving as they headed like a living tide to the nearest exit.

  Keep together, warned Rezac, gun and hand stuffed inside the open front of his shirt.

  They merged into the stream, going with them as far as the service elevator. Rezac stopped, standing back against the wall, visually checking that the others were still with him. Newer to his telepath skills than the rest of the group, he still preferred to double-check everything with what he still considered his normal senses.

  The tide slowed until the last stragglers raced along the corridor, hardly glancing at them as they feigned the need to help an injured member of their small group.

  Jaisa thumbed open the elevator door. With a loud mechanical grumble it slid back, revealing the dirty interior.

  “Gods, don’t they ever clean the goods areas?” muttered Shanka, leading the way in. “How long have we got before the building is empty?”

  Rezac glanced at his wrist chronometer. “About another minute. Should be enough time.”

  Tiernay pressed the ground floor indicator. The door closed noisily, then the elevator lurched downward.

  Machine pistols ready again, they formed a protective wedge in front of Zashou and Vartra. The elevator shuddered to a halt, five minds probing outside for any presences.

  Nyaz? Tiernay sent a questing thought in his direction.

  Clear for now.

  Tiernay opened the door.

  The chill air of the delivery bay hit them, bringing with it the smell of fuel and winter. Rezac shivered. Somehow this winter, the first of their occupation by the Valtegans, seemed colder than any other. For the first time, even his thick fur was not enough to keep him warm.