Desert World Rebirth

by Lyn Gala

  Temar clenched his teeth. Part of him wanted to let other people handle this. But every time he’d done that, it hadn’t ended well. He’d trusted Cyla and her stupid plan to prove that Young had stolen water. And he hadn’t. He’d trusted Shan to go chasing off across a desert, and if Naite hadn’t followed them, they’d be so very dead. And now Natalie wanted him to follow, and as much as Temar wanted to—and he desperately wanted someone else to be responsible—he couldn’t do it. He didn’t trust these people as far as he could throw them.

  “I’m going to find the captain, so you can either show me where he is or I can wander around this ship poking random controls,” Temar announced.

  “Temar,” Rula said in an almost disappointed voice as she stepped in front of him. Physically, she had the power. She could force him to go back to their quarters, but physical power wasn’t everything. Temar drew himself up and turned to Natalie, the real authority in this partnership.

  “You’re wrong about me, so if you’re really interested in having an alliance with Livre, I want to see the captain now.”

  “That isn’t a good idea.”

  Temar swallowed. These people weren’t offering power, so he had to take some. Well, he’d certainly been around enough people who had modeled that for him. He smiled at Natalie. “I don’t care. Your preferences and requests are not my first, second, or third concern, and I will see the captain now. Yes, Shan was on the governing council, and he is a well-respected man on Livre. However, I’m more well-known, and I’m the second or third wealthiest man on that planet. I personally know every man and woman that sent trade goods up with us.” He was technically telling the truth, even if it was a shade of the truth that wouldn’t hold up to the full sun. Maybe he had some talent for lying, because Natalie was staring at him, her eyebrows drawn.

  “You’re that senior?”

  Then again, maybe he didn’t have talent, because she didn’t sound convinced. “We don’t think of rank the way you do. Shan and I would make any decisions together. He has more experience than I do. However, he would cut off his own arm before making a decision without me.” Temar wasn’t shading the truth on that statement.

  Natalie traded a confused look with Rula. She might talk about how rank determined worth, but she seemed willing to ignore rank easily enough when it came to Rula. For the first time, Temar could see what had made Shan assume they were lovers.

  “Luck of the stars,” he cursed softly. “I had to get stuck up here with people who can’t see that other cultures don’t have the same rules.” He channeled Naite’s glare as he considered Natalie. Sure enough, she blushed all the way up to the tops of her ears. With her long brown hair pulled back, Temar could see the way they pinked up.

  “Temar, I understand that you’re worried about Shan,” Natalie said in that tone of voice he’d often heard use parents use when their children’s lying was particularly transparent. Temar could feel a hard bubble of hysteria building in his stomach as he thought about how much Ben would have appreciated being challenged. In another universe, if circumstances had been just a little bit different, that’s who Natalie would have dealt with.

  “Believe what you want,” Temar told her. “I’m going to find the captain. If you touch me, I will consider that an act of violence.” Temar didn’t add that he was close enough to a panic attack that he also might scream, flail, and huddle in the corner with his arms around his knees. He wanted to do that. He really did. However, he strode forward, forcing Rula to back away to the side of the hall as she tried to avoid touching him.

  “Temar, you’ll never find the captain,” Natalie called after him.

  Temar turned around. “Maybe not, but I’m going to enjoy causing a lot of trouble while I try. I don’t like having my demands questioned by”—he looked Natalie up and down, feeling slimy as he mimicked Ben’s old gesture—“junior officers,” he finished, making it clear that he considered her beneath him.

  Natalie stepped forward, her voice a desperate whisper. “Ambassador Gazer, you don’t want to do this.”

  He looked her in the eye. “No, I don’t. I also don’t want to lose my partner and I don’t want to put up with being manipulated and I would rather not walk around the ship verbally attacking every person I meet as I press random buttons hoping to break something really vital. I don’t want any of that, but some things are more likely than others.” Temar raised his eyebrows and waited for her response. Natalie pressed her lips together so tightly that they turned white.

  “Fine,” she finally answered, “I will give you an invitation to meet the captain, but one word from him, and Rula will physically drag you off the bridge and throw you into a cell until we can straighten this out. We have laws against refusing orders during an attack and against making threats.”

  “I can’t say I care what your laws say,” Temar responded.

  “And I thought you were the nice one,” Natalie said with a sigh.

  Temar didn’t believe that. Natalie had assumed that he was the unimportant one. She’d focused so much on Shan that he doubted she’d given him two seconds of consideration, and normally, he’d be fine with that. Getting her full attention this way made him feel like his stomach had twisted inside out and his ribs were shrinking so that everything in his chest didn’t fit. He’d rather be in the background, but he wouldn’t stand back and let these people handle anything.

  Natalie started down the hall, her long legs carrying her faster than Temar could follow without breaking into a trot. Even though she was only a couple of inches taller, she made good use of it. Rula stayed at his side, her hand resting on her belt, and Temar suspected she had some sort of weapon in there. This time when they hit the main cylindrical section, people rushed by in either direction. No one actually ran, but the sense of energy came from the silent dodging of bodies around each other and the variety of uniforms. Temar had seen the brown uniform that most of them wore, but there were an alarming number of white uniformed men with large weapons and green uniformed men and women with strange equipment, some so large that two of them were carrying it.

  Pausing for a second to allow a tight group of four men to pass, Natalie headed right, detouring around a man with blood covering him, supported by people on either side. The sharp stink of blood made Temar swallow down the bile that threatened to rise. The man was walking, so he probably wouldn’t die, and Temar had seen death in his life, but he couldn’t help but imagine Shan being injured.

  When Ben had threatened Cyla, Temar had felt utterly trapped. The threat had held him more securely than any rope, and he could feel it tightening around him again. He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t lie down and let some terrorist group rape him, literally or metaphorically.

  “Here.” Natalie opened a door to show a tiny space behind it. It took Temar’s brain a half second to supply the word “elevator.” By that time Rula had already gotten in, and Natalie was looking at him with a frown. Temar followed Rula and caught hold of one of the curved handles. When Natalie got in, she manipulated the controls, and Temar’s body jerked so hard to the right that he physically crashed into Rula. He’d expected up and down, but this was a side-to-side elevator. Rula gave him a sympathetic look as Temar struggled for balance.

  “Last chance to stop, Temar. We can handle this.” Natalie didn’t add that Temar would screw everything up, but Temar thought that was implied.

  “This is my partner and my fight,” Temar said with far more confidence than he felt.

  Natalie turned her back on him and stood with her nose to the wall door until the elevator jerked to a stop so sharply that Temar wrenched his shoulder trying to not fall down. The door opened, and Temar looked into the bridge and into the barrels of guns from two white-uniformed men who had drawn weapons on them.

  Chapter 26

  NATALIE held both hands up, and Temar hurried to do the same. “Protocol Officer Natalie Aral, reporting to the bridge on the orders of Ambassador Temar Gazer,” she said. One of the
men tilted his head to the side and did something with his ear without lowering his weapon. Taking his cues from Natalie and Rula, Temar stood in place, his hands up.

  The man with his head tilted said something to his partner, and they both dropped their weapons so that they pointed to the ground. “You don’t have authorization for bridge access.”

  “Ambassador Gazer demanded access.”

  The man searched Temar with a cold gaze, and Temar stepped forward. “Where’s the captain?”

  “Unavailable.”

  “Then he better find a way to make himself available, or I will invalidate all trades and demand the return of all Livre trade goods.” Temar narrowed his eyes and silently prayed that no one else pointed out that he had no way to enforce that rule. Naite got away with ordering a whole lot of people around, not because he had any authority, as an unskilled worker, but because no one really wanted to cross him. Temar worried that he might not be able to pull it off without another foot of growth and a good hundred pounds, but after a second of looking at Temar, the guard nodded to his partner and turned to head across the bridge.

  Temar had expected something grand, but the reality of the bridge was less than impressive. A dozen tiny, boxlike stations were lined up in the middle of the room, each with a man or woman inside the low walls, typing away on a computer. There weren’t any windows out into space. One wall was covered with huge screens, and three people sat at a long, narrow table facing the scrolling displays and vid feeds and images of space. Temar tried to find some image of Shan, but the elevator was on the side of the room, and the angle was wrong for him to see the pictures.

  Eyeing the remaining guard, Temar wondered if he should risk trying to walk past the man to find some vid feed from the negotiations room. However, he really didn’t like the idea of getting shot. The guard’s partner stopped at the skinny table, talking to the man in the middle. So that was the captain.

  The man stood up and turned to face Temar. His body was angled oddly, and it took Temar a second to realize that one of his legs was damaged. The man headed over toward them, the soldier following. With every step, he swung his right leg out wide, and his right hand had burn-slick skin across the backs of the fingers.

  “Ambassador,” he said wearily, “go to your quarters, or I will have to order you there.”

  Temar might have said something inappropriate, except Natalie stepped forward. “Captain, we have a problem.”

  “We have a lot of them, Officer,” the captain retorted with a dry sort of humor. “Unless you have a report, clear the bridge.”

  “I want to know what you’re doing to find out if Shan Polli is safe,” Temar demanded.

  The captain gave him a look while he blew out a long breath. “Look, I understand that you’re worried, but right now, you’re in the way. Clear the bridge, Ambassador.”

  “No.”

  The captain’s expression darkened. “Excuse me?”

  “Would you ask Ambassador Polli to leave the bridge?” Temar demanded. From the momentary blankness on the captain’s face, the answer was clear. “I’m certainly wealthier and better known than Ambassador Polli. My vote carries just as much weight, and if he finds out that you shut me out of decision-making, you’re unlikely to get either of our votes for any sort of deal.” Temar wanted to go on, to beg, to plead, to give all the reasons why they should let him stay. However, begging didn’t project strength, so he clamped his mouth shut and swallowed all the arguments and fears and anger until he was afraid he might throw it all up again.

  Eventually, the captain sighed. “Officer Aral, would you like to provide some introductions?”

  “Yes, sir. Ambassador, this is Captain Miles Helgen. Captain, this is Ambassador Temar Gazer.”

  The captain gave a curt nod and started right in. “Ambassador, you are a guest, not part of our rank structure. As a guest, I will include you in any discussions regarding your colleague, but in the end, the decision will be mine as to how we proceed. Understood?”

  Despite the fact that his first instinct was to agree, Temar pursed his lips and considered the captain for some time. “I understand that you would prefer that, yes,” he finally offered.

  The sour look on the captain’s face suggested that this wouldn’t be a happy friendship. “Ambassador, we had a major explosion in the jump engine. We ejected the combustible material before the fire could breach security, which is why the detonation didn’t rip through half my ship. However, we have catastrophic failures on sixteen decks, with damage isolated to areas on the opposite end of the ship from diplomatic quarters.” The captain turned his back and strode across the room of narrow aisles and cramped workers in their little spaces until he got back to his table overlooking the displays. Temar followed, his eyes searching the images for any sign of Shan. He’d only understood about 60 percent of the captain’s speech, but none of it had sounded particularly good.

  “Life support?” Rula asked.

  “Security Officer Lish, this is not a tactical debriefing,” the captain snapped, and Rula stiffened as she stood at Natalie’s side.

  “Are we in danger?” Temar asked.

  The captain spared an unhappy look toward Rula before answering. “Ambassador, if there were significant threat to your life, I would order you evacuated, and quite frankly, I wouldn’t care if you threw your weight around.”

  “Then you’d better get Ambassador Polli back in one piece, because if you do that before securing him, you will not have a treaty with Livre.”

  “Not my first concern, Ambassador.”

  Natalie had moved closer to the screens, and she was focused on one, her head tilted as she looked at it. Temar frowned. “Is that the conference room?”

  The captain looked over at the screen. “It’s the footage right before the attack. One of the techs is running a loop to identify enemies and technology.”

  “It’s Pentalia. He’s out of position and blocking Ambassador Polli from returning to the outer office,” Natalie commented.

  “We think he’s the point man. He waited until he had the two ambassadors in the room with as few additional personnel as possible before somehow triggering a coordinated attack. We’re tracking down his history and accounting for all personnel.”

  Natalie turned around. “Officer Lish and I were in the outer office with no access to sensitive equipment.”

  “I know.” Captain Helgen sat down in his chair, and Temar could see a single screen display inset in the table light up. “I checked you two first.”

  Temar would have been offended, but Natalie simply nodded, as if it were normal for her own people to investigate her. Temar seriously hated this alliance. “Do you know anything about Ambassador Polli?” he asked, focusing on his need to save Shan and not his general disgust for the entire situation.

  The captain tapped his screen and one of the images grew larger, pushing the others to the side. It gave Temar a headache to look at a wall with so many images—readouts and text and vid and diagrams with squiggle lines all flashing at once. However, he focused on the center image. In it, Shan was clearly angry, although without sound, Temar couldn’t tell what he was angry about. He moved toward the door, and a tall man with no hair stepped between him and the exit, leaving Shan to stumble back.

  “Pentalia,” Natalie said softly.

  Shan got his finger up in the man’s face, and Ambassador Melton was on his feet now, his normal entourage of assistants looking either alarmed or confused. Shan turned his back on Pentalia, and then the whole screen shook. Temar watched as Shan hit the table and then rolled off to the floor, but that might have been for the best, because Pentalia had a gun, and Temar watched as he shot two men and a woman, their bodies flying back and slamming into the ground. Without sound, it was a surreal image, seemingly less real than the vids Temar had watched in school—except that was his lover with his arm thrown over his head. The ambassador and one man were left. The man threw his hands up, moving behind Ambassador Mel
ton, who stared with open mouth.

  Temar could see Shan reach up for the edge of the table, and the expression on his face would have made Naite take a step back. He was furious. Pentalia pointed the gun in Shan’s direction, but Shan was saying something, his mouth moving and his hand flying up in a wild gesture. The second shock must have hit, because Shan stumbled to the side and Ambassador Melton sat in his chair, grabbing the edge of the table. The third explosion came close on the heels of the second. Temar realized that, by this time, he’d been in the third office with Rula holding him down as he pointlessly struggled to get to Shan.

  Sure enough, Temar watched the silent figures in the silent image float up into the air as gravity failed. Two of the bodies trailed little dotted lines of blood drops that followed them as they drifted up and to the right. One didn’t. His head was half gone, and larger red globs escaped at less regular intervals.

  “One confirmed kill, two seriously injured, assumed dead. Three hostages,” the captain said, and then Pentalia turned to the camera, smiling into it before raising his weapon. The screen turned to static. “That’s the entire stream.” With a click, the captain made the images shrink down again as they restarted with Shan walking into the room, that hopeful smile on his face.

  Temar turned away, not willing to watch that horror twice. Shan was alive. Shan wasn’t hurt. He had to hold onto that, because if he didn’t, his sanity was going to slip out from under him like loose sand. Either that or it would explode like glass cooled too quickly, and everyone in the room would be showered with hot shrapnel. Temar wasn’t actually sure how he was going to react. He only knew that the anger growing in his chest was too much for him to carry. He wanted to reach through that vid screen, take Pentalia by the neck, and squeeze the life out of him. His feelings for Ben had been a poor, sunbleached imitation of hatred compared to how he felt about Pentalia.

  A new explosion rocked the bridge, and Temar might have fallen except Rula grabbed him and hauled him close. It was hard to fall down when someone that muscled had hold of your arms.