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Razor's Edge

Page 50

by Lisanne Norman


  “Rezac!” Kris called, getting hastily to his feet. He needn’t have bothered, the Sholan was already following her.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Davies, obviously concerned.

  “I think we’ve got a problem,” said Kris.

  “What kind of problem?” asked Jo.

  “I want to examine her first,” said Kris as angry voices, followed by a short yowl of pain came from the bedroom.

  “Rezac!” said Jo, starting forward.

  Kris grabbed her, holding her back. “No. Not you, Jo. Leave this to us.”

  “Dammit, Kris! He’s been hurt!” She rounded angrily on him, trying to pry his hand off. She stopped abruptly as she saw Rezac back out of the room clutching his forearm, pelt bushed out, tail lashing angrily from side to side. The door slammed shut and silence fell.

  Jo pulled free and ran over to him, Kris and Davies close behind.

  “Let me see your arm,” she demanded.

  Shock had set in and he was shaking as Kris took him by the elbow and steered him to the dining table. Jo hauled out a chair for him to sit on.

  “Get some water and towels,” she ordered, grabbing a chair for herself.

  “Jo, let me see to him,” said Kris. “You’re too involved to treat him. Come on, move over.”

  Reluctantly she moved.

  “Let me see your arm,” he said to Rezac, but the Sholan was sitting staring into space. Kris reached up and took him by the chin, shaking his face slightly to get his attention.

  Gradually his eyes lost their glazed look and he focused on Kris. “She’s pregnant,” he blurted out, then caught sight of Jo. “Oh, Gods,” he groaned, shutting his eyes. From under his hand, blood was slowly oozing, soaking into his pelt and staining his fingers red.

  “Keep your hand on it for now, Rezac,” Kris said, crouching down beside him. “Jo, find something to use as a tourniquet.”

  She ran to their room, colliding with Davies on his way back. When she returned, she handed him a ribbon.

  Kris raised an eyebrow as he accepted it.

  “Something Taradain gave me,” she muttered, embarrassed.

  The tourniquet in place, Kris got Rezac to release his arm. He sighed with relief when he saw the extent of the damage. “You’ll be fine,” he said, taking the towel from Davies and dipping it in the bowl of water. “Only a flesh wound. Not as bad as it looks. It won’t even need stitches. Get him a drink, Jo, he’s gone pale around the nose. I’d rather he didn’t pass out on us.”

  Quickly and efficiently, he cleaned the wound as best he could and began to bind it with portions torn from one of Jo’s clean shifts.

  “So Zashou’s pregnant,” he said as he worked. “How far on?”

  “She didn’t say.” Rezac’s voice was quiet as he looked past him to Jo.

  “I take it she isn’t exactly thrilled with the news.”

  “Neither of us are. It’s more than that. She didn’t choose to be pregnant. That just can’t happen, Kris. And she’s sick, too.”

  “I know. The pregnancy, it’s part of the new Links, Rezac,” said Kris, tying off the last knot and sitting back. “Your females lose the ability to choose to become pregnant.”

  He looked at the Human, brows meeting in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

  “The virus we told you about, it changes us. Your females become like ours, unable to control their fertility. Males, too. They change.” He stopped, realizing that Jo had had no idea of the implications of her new relationship with Rezac either. He watched understanding dawn on Rezac’s face.

  “You’re saying I could be pregnant, too.” Jo’s voice filled the silence.

  “A slight chance,” agreed Kris quietly.

  “It’s not possible!” Rezac’s voice held panic and anger in equal measure.

  “It’s possible,” said Jo, her voice quiet and even. “I told you, we were infected on the trip out. We passed it on to you. I’ve got a standard Human contraceptive implant, but if the virus changed me, it may not be effective any longer.”

  Kris was surprised at how well she was taking the news. Even her mind felt calm.

  “We can’t sit here and wait to be rescued any longer,” said Davies. “We’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of escaping here with a heavily pregnant female who’s sick. I’m not being callous,” he added hastily as all eyes turned on him. “I’m being practical. Someone has to be. It’s going to be difficult enough as it is.”

  “He’s right,” said Rezac, keeping his face turned away from Jo. Experimentally he flexed his arm. “We can start by trying to contact that ship of yours again, and the two telepaths on Jalna.”

  “Kris has tried the ship every night for the past two weeks and gotten nothing,” said Jo. “As for the two captive telepaths, forget it. You, of all people, should realize the danger in giving away the fact we’re telepaths. What if they’re being used for their talents? We could lead the wrong people right to the gates of the castle and be worse off than we are now.”

  “She’s right,” said Kris. “Besides, your sending when we awakened you was so powerful that they should have picked it up and tried to contact us. The fact that they didn’t suggests they’re dead.”

  “We should try nonetheless. You can’t be sure.”

  “I said no. The risks are too great.”

  “You could help me try to contact the ship again tonight,” Kris suggested to Rezac.

  “Now that’s a good idea,” said Davies. “You and Rezac combined ought to be able to raise them.”

  “If we’re going to try to escape, we need to decide where we’re heading,” said Jo. “Getting out of here isn’t enough.”

  “The spaceport,” said Rezac immediately. “Steal a ship and get off this godsforsaken world!”

  “You haven’t seen the spaceport,” said Davies.

  “Interstellar ships don’t land here, only the cargo pods do, or at best, shuttles. None of them is capable of deep space flight.”

  “Let’s work on that one when we get there,” said Rezac. “Getting out is the first part. To do that, we have to start working on the laser downstairs.”

  “We need outside help. I wish there was some way we could get a message to Railin,” said Jo quietly.

  “Railin? You’d trust him after what he did?”

  “He didn’t betray us, Gary.”

  “I’m with Jo on that,” said Kris. “Yes, we were expected, but I don’t think it was our storyteller. It could have been the mapmaker, even the girl at the tavern—what was her name?”

  “Jainie,” supplied Jo. “I don’t think it was her either.”

  “Okay, I bow to superior mind power,” sighed Davies. “I can’t fight against the two of you. However, he’ll be down in the plains now, collecting more stories for this winter. We have to do this one on our own.”

  Kris stood up. “I’d better go and see to Zashou. Gary, you clean up. Rezac, you stay put. You’re still in shock. I don’t want you moving about for a while. I think we’ll have to call in Killian’s apothecary. I need dressings for your arm, and I’ve a feeling we’ll need his skills in treating Zashou.”

  Left alone with Jo, Rezac sat wondering what the hell he could say to her.

  “There isn’t much to say,” said Jo, making him start in surprise. “If it’s anyone’s fault Zashou is pregnant, it’s ours because we infected you.”

  “It’s no one’s fault,” sighed Rezac, ears flattening. “En’Shalla. The will of the Gods. My relationship with Zashou was doomed from the start. I let my anger stand between us, force us apart, because I couldn’t believe she’d want someone like me.”

  “But you love her.”

  He reached out to touch her hand where it lay in her lap. “I love you, too.” He hesitated when she didn’t respond, then he took hold of her hand anyway. “How likely is it you’re pregnant, too?”

  “Likely. I’ll know in a few weeks.”

  He searched her face, reached carefully for her mind, st
rengthening the Link till he could sense her mood. She was calm, far too calm. None of this was touching her at all. “You’re wearing the pendant.”

  She stirred, looking over at him. “Yes. I thought it a wise precaution. The people here obviously think it works, otherwise Killian wouldn’t go to the bother of having his mage make them specially for us. Until we have a good reason for not wearing them, I think we should.”

  “Jo, if you are carrying my cub, I’m sorry … I mean, if we were home, on Shola, I wouldn’t mind, but here … Damn! I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?”

  “Rather,” she agreed, a strange smile coming over her face.

  “If you are, how would you feel about it?”

  “Pregnant. I’d feel pregnant, Rezac.”

  “I didn’t know … I wouldn’t have done it if I had known.” He was floundering now. Two females, both pregnant by him, and he couldn’t talk to either of them coherently. He didn’t even know how he felt about it!

  “We would have. We had no option, remember?”

  He knew how she should be reacting, knew that it was the stone that was calming her, but he was glad for it. He was clutching at grass, but he had to try to salvage what he could. He couldn’t bear to lose her the way it looked as if he was losing Zashou.

  “I’m sorry, Jo. I know you won’t believe me, but I do love you. If it were any time but now, I’d want you to carry my cub, if that’s what you wanted. I want us to be together.”

  “And Zashou?”

  “I love her, too. She wasn’t always this bad. It got worse after you awakened us, I don’t know why. I want you both! Don’t turn away from me because of this.”

  Again the strange smile. “I believe you.”

  “But …” He couldn’t understand her reaction even with the influence of the pendant. “You could be carrying my cub, an alien cub, Jo.”

  “This is different. If I am pregnant, the cub’s different, Rezac. Not alien, ours. Would you undo the time we shared? Make it something less than it was by calling us alien to each other?”

  “You know I wouldn’t,” he whispered.

  Her hand turned within his, clasping it hard, almost triggering his claws. “Then we concentrate on getting out of here, and leave the rest to your gods.”

  He leaned forward, placing his lips against her throat.

  “And, Rezac. Don’t fight me over leadership of the group. Pregnant or not, I’m leader.”

  “No refreshments,” said Mrowbay sadly, his ears drooping in disappointment. “Never have the Chemerians neglected to offer us nibbles and drinks before.”

  Sheeowl clapped his broad back in a friendly manner. “Abstinence is good for you,” she said. “Your rear is spreading so fast these days, I swear it’s distorting your comms seat!”

  “They were indecently fast by their standards,” said Manesh thoughtfully as they made their way down the corridor to the docking bays. “I think they want us to leave.”

  “Perhaps we leave more slowly, eh?” said Tirak, mouth widening in a humorless grin as he slowed down. “Maybe we’ll …”

  “Pardon, Captain. Trouble ahead,” interrupted Mrowbay, his manner suddenly businesslike. He pointed to the bend ahead.

  Tirak came to an immediate stop. Mrowbay’s hearing was proverbial. His hand went to his side, resting on the butt of his pistol. “Maybe we find out now.”

  Round the corner came a group of Sumaan mercenaries wearing the badge of one of the leading Chemerian Houses. In their midst, in his powered chair, was their employer. And something—someone—else.

  “Kathan’s beard!” swore Sheeowl. “He’s one of us! What the hell’s going on?”

  “Easy,” said Tirak as his crew’s hands went to their guns. “Let’s take it by the rules.”

  The figure saw them and shouted, reaching its hand up in the air to attract their attention.

  “Mrowbay?” demanded Tirak.

  The comm officer shook his head. “Couldn’t understand him.”

  “He’s not one of us,” said Sheeowl abruptly as the figure tried to push its way through the Sumaan. “That’s not clothing, that’s his color!”

  “Recommend we don’t interfere, Captain. Against the Sumaan, we’re outnumbered.”

  Manesh’s words faded till they were barely audible as the world around him took on a distant quality. It was as if he were sitting back as an observer within his own skull. He realized he was running toward the group of Sumaan with the intention of freeing the captives with his bare hands if need be. That part of him prayed his crew were not far behind.

  Shock at his audacity gave him the element of surprise as he flung himself between the two leading mercenaries. He plucked up not the one they’d all seen, but the other—a pale, hairless alien. He kept going, ramming his way through them and on down the corridor.

  The passive part, now numb with fear, realized that she—it was female?—was lying quiet in his grasp. She wasn’t afraid. In fact, he got the impression she was trying to calm him! As he ran up the ramp into his craft, suddenly, with a lurch that almost caused him to fall, his mind was his own again.

  Caroming off the bulkhead, he stopped by the comm unit. Dumping her on the ground, he kept hold of her arm. He thumbed the alarm. “Nayash, seal the ship!” he yelled into the speaker seconds before the klaxon blared its in-ship warning. The clack of claws hitting the metal ramp sounded behind him as Mrowbay and Sheeowl followed him, each clutching the other alien firmly by a wrist.

  Sheeowl stopped and released him to Mrowbay. “I’ll take it, Captain,” she said, nodding toward the female.

  Tirak handed her over and turned to look behind him.

  “No sign of them, Captain,” said Manesh, backing up the ramp, gun leveled outward to cover them.

  Tirak headed for the bridge at a run. Flinging himself into his seat, he began scanning the array in front of him. He couldn’t think properly with the damned alarm blaring in his ears like this! Folding them down, he opened his mouth just as the sound died.

  “Ramps retracting,” said Sayuk from her nav post.

  “Loading hatch closed,” said Nayash. “What now, Captain?”

  “Open a channel to station command. No doubt they’re anxious to share their thoughts with us,” he said dryly, rubbing his aching temples. Damn, but his head hurt!

  “No need, Captain,” said Mrowbay. “They’re on line to us. Patching it to your console now.”

  The screen flickered briefly, then displayed the station commander, his large saucer-shaped ears trembling with barely concealed rage.

  “Lioksu. Had not thought to speak to you so soon,” he said. “What is your pleasure?”

  “You have prisoners belonging to Ambassador Taira Khebo. Return immediately,” the Chemerian snapped.

  “He’s mad,” muttered Sheeowl on his left.

  “Prisoners, Lioksu? No prisoners on my ship. Are mistaken.”

  “You lie! Return them or suffer consequences!”

  Tirak sat back in his seat, obviously relaxed and at ease. “Strong words, Lioksu. Hope you can prove them. U’Churian Traders Council will not like these allegations.”

  With a visible effort, the Chemerian stilled his ears. He blinked, once. “You attacked guards of Ambassador Taira Khebo. You took prisoners from them. They are on your ship now.”

  “Sumaan were in our way, Lioksu. I admit I pushed through them. But assure you, only U’Churians here. Think well before you accuse me of kidnapping.”

  Lioksu stared silently out of the screen at him. “You took them. Were thieves. Stealing from Free Trade area. Return them now, and we talk no more on this matter.”

  “Are you accusing U’Churians of theft, Lioksu? Serious matter, that. You know the law.” He sat forward, hardening his voice, allowing a growl of menace to creep into it. “They must be given over to a captain of same species for trial. Send them to me, send me charge sheets. If crimes committed, they stand trial—on U’Chur. If allegations false, you pay large com
pensation fee.”

  Once more the Chemerian regarded him in silence, large eyes blinking slowly. Tirak knew he had him rattled now. With any luck he wouldn’t push it. The U’Churians were a force to be reckoned with, even at the main Chemerian trading station.

  “Perhaps Taira Khebo will drop charges,” Lioksu said at last.

  “Perhaps? We leave in two minutes, Lioksu. Either send people and charge sheets or stop delaying my departure!”

  The screen blacked, the connection severed at source.

  Sheeowl let out her breath in a huff of relief.

  “Take us out, Nayash,” said Tirak, getting to his feet. “I’ll be in the rec, with our visitors.” They didn’t need him here, but he needed to see his two unwanted guests.

  Holding onto the grab rail, he made his way back down the corridor to the recreation room. Sitting huddled together at one side of the dining table were the two aliens. Manesh sat opposite them, covering them with her pistol. One was as hairless as a newborn, the other—was he U’Churian? Apart from the color, the similarity was startling. A half empty tumbler of water sat in front of them.

  A series of loud clangs and bumps reverberated through the hull. They were disengaging from the station.

  “Stow that away,” said Tirak, taking a seat.

  Holstering her gun, Manesh reached for the glass. “They speak our language, Captain. Not well, but they speak it.” She got up and went over to the kitchen area, stowing the tumbler under the restraining net in the cleansing unit. “The lad’s not one of us.”

  He could smell them now. Their scents were mingled, but he could detect the underlying sharpness that was hers. Manesh returned to her seat.

  “Sholan,” said the young male. He pointed to the female. “She is Human.”

  “You made me attack the Sumaan. Risk my life and that of my crew,” he said, his voice deepening to an angry rumble. “You did something inside my head.”

  The lad looked at the female who stirred, sitting up straighter. “Needed help.” She spoke slowly, sounding each word as if for the first time.

  “You could have asked!”

  She shook her head. “No time. No …” She stopped, a frown creasing her smooth brow. “Not enough speech to tell you.”

 

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