“If you feel as if you can’t maintain the shield, try and give me some warning,” Kirek instructed, calmly joining a line of ships that appeared to be flying into and landing on one tiny section of the spaceport.
“Understood.” They’d decided not to transfer his psi to her until the last possible moment. That way she could focus solely on holding the shield.
“What happens after we land?”
“The Zin have many humanoids that are part machine. We will enter the complex with them.”
“Will we be questioned?”
“One of the weaknesses of the Zin is their superiority complex. They believe they are so powerful that no one would dare attack their home world.”
Angel frowned through the vidscreen. “If they’ve existed for millions of years, they must have strong survival instincts.”
“We won’t have to worry until we go deeper into the complex.”
“I can’t believe we will be able to just walk in.”
“Think of the Zin world like a bank. Anyone can walk through the front door. To transact business at a teller, you need ID. To get to the vault, you must pass more involved security checks. But you’re right, the Zin are wary. Last time I was here, I was able to modify their computer system. I left myself a back door.”
Kirek sounded confident, but as she took in the complexity of the busy planet from orbit—a giant spaceport, huge manufacturing complexes, and extensive warehouses with no greenery between buildings or cities, she had doubts. “You were here eight years ago. You think the back door is still open?”
Kirek grinned, almost like a kid. Despite the danger, he was clearly excited and enjoying the mission as much as she was. “We’ll soon find out. Any problems holding the shield?”
“None.” She still felt strong and confident that she could keep them from being seen or sensed by machine or humanoid. But holding the shield while they remained seated and in constant positions relative to one another would be very different from once they exited and had to move through the complex.
They planned to stay close together while avoiding others who might accidentally come into contact with the shield. As Kirek landed in the busy spaceport, she wondered if that was going to be possible.
This world was crawling with machines, ones that rolled, others which moved on tracks. Some flew. Some walked. Others snaked while a few jumped. The variations in limbs, heads, eyes, and torsos were mind-boggling. Each Zin seemed to be uniquely specialized for its work. One giant had a cart-like body that rolled up to their shuttle. When Kirek popped the hatch, the body extended upward to meet the hull, stretching and unbending.
Angel wanted to grab Kirek’s hand. But since none of the Zin touched and they needed to blend in, she didn’t touch him, either. For all the activity of hundreds of ships, thousands of mechanics, and more Zin than she could comprehend, it was a strangely silent world. The motors hummed with silent efficiency, and no one communicated with verbal language.
Kirek had planned ahead to have Ranth tap into the communications system for him. In suit privacy mode, the Zin couldn’t hear them talking—if they even had ears. Kirek kept monitoring the com and kept her informed. “The Zin are taking no special notice of us.”
“Good.” Angel didn’t mind that she wasn’t hooked into the com network. She had enough distractions and now had to refocus her efforts to maintain the shield. One lapse and the Zin would sense Kirek’s psi.
“We need to catch a tram.” Kirek led her toward a tunnel where machines loaded and unloaded ship supplies. “It’s too far to walk.”
“Just find us a spot close together,” she reminded him. But it wasn’t necessary. Kirek never seemed to forget anything. He understood that the farther they separated the more difficult it became for her to maintain the shield around them both.
“Will that do?” Kirek tipped his chin toward a fuel tank. “We can ride on top.”
“All right.” She moved closer to Kirek. The tank towered above their heads. She wasn’t certain how they would get up there. Maintaining their shield while they employed null grav would be tricky.
He lifted her into his arms. “Can you maintain the shield while I boost us?”
“Do it slowly.”
The machines around them paid no attention to the fact that she was now in his arms. She’d worried the Zin would notice their touching, but apparently, she’d been wrong. She supposed that to a Zin, their touching was no different than the lift that had linked with their shuttle. Machines linked and disengaged all around them.
Kirek engaged his null grav, and she concentrated on raising the shield with them at the same rate. He looked down at her with concern. “Are you all right?”
She nodded but didn’t speak until he had them on top of the fuel tank. As the tram began to move, she tried to relax. For some odd reason maintaining her shield while they sat on a moving object was no problem. However when they moved themselves, she had to bring the shield with them.
“Whew. That was tricky, but I’m getting the hang of it. How long are we riding?”
“Need a rest?”
“I’m okay.” But Kirek could hear her breathing hard from the effort. Although the work had been mental, she’d tensed her muscles and held her breath. Now she had to force her body to relax.
She’d hoped the tram would give them a look at the Zin world, and it did. They traveled through giant dark buildings filled with goods. They passed through cities of lights. They rode underground and over a bridge that spanned a manufacturing plant. Everywhere she saw Zin, some as tiny as her cat, others as large as a battleship.
The Zin didn’t rest. They didn’t play. Angel leaned against Kirek, allowing him to anchor them into position with his psi. “They seem much more machine than human.”
“These are the workers. They are designed to service the others and don’t need higher thought patterns. As we approach the core, the Zin have a higher level of intelligence.”
“Won’t they notice that we don’t belong?”
“The back door was open, and that allowed me to change the parameters of what belongs. When the Zin see us, they see more Zin going about their tasks.”
She realized that while she’d been sightseeing, Kirek had used his psi. While he likely thought in computer code, he had given her simplistic analogies so she could understand his explanation. She liked that about Kirek. He neither tried to impress anyone with his immense intelligence, nor spoke in a condescending manner. “Why didn’t they recognize your psi when you used it?”
“That was part of the back door I left open the first time I was here. Unfortunately, that little trick won’t work near the core. The deeper inside we go, the more sophisticated the Zin security system becomes.”
“So why am I holding this shield—if we don’t need it yet?”
“Because when I made the back door, I expected to come back alone. I’ve now modified it to include us both, but this tram has already taken us deep enough that if you failed to hold the shield, we’d have to do some fast maneuvering.”
“Like what?”
“I’d use my psi to take out their weapons in the immediate areas. Then we’d have to escape, give you time to recover, and employ the shield once more.”
So that’s why he’d asked her to warn him if she was about to lose the shield. It would give him time to attack. As they again descended a level and the air around them cooled and the lights dimmed to glowing red, she realized that not even her suit or Kirek’s body heat was keeping her warm.
Her initial excitement at the tram ride and her wonder at this Zin world was changing as they rode the vehicle deeper into the planet. As the facts sunk in that she and Kirek were alone and trying to wipe out billions of the most technologically advanced beings she’d ever seen, she wondered if they stood any chance of all of succeeding.
Chapter Twenty
KIREK HAD TRAVELED to the Zin home world in the astral state. While much of the complex remained exactly th
e same as it was eight years ago, being in his body now gave him access to sights, sounds, and smells—making the experience different. The Zin had no use for growing plants so the air seemed stale. They communicated by mental links—a combination of telepathy from their animal DNA and enhanced mechanical devices. The eerie lack of noise plus the pulsing red lights on the walls gave the buildings a ghostly and menacing aura as he and Angel rode the tram into the bowels of the planet.
Some changes had been made. But none disturbed him as much as the need to bring Angel with him. Bringing the woman he loved into this kind of danger and knowing the likelihood they might not survive clawed at his gut and sliced deep. If he’d had any other choice, any other viable option—Kirek would have insisted she stay on the Raven.
In addition to the menace from the Zin, he worried about his psi transfer. He would cope the way he always did, feeling as if he’d lost one of his senses, but he would remain able to go on.
His concern was all for her. He had absolutely no idea what would happen or how Angel would cope after he gave his psi to her. Could she hold the force shield and his psi? What kind of strain would it place on her? Would there be damage? Would they be able to reverse the process? Kirek simply didn’t know—and yet, he also still believed that more than fate had caused them to meet.
He strongly suspected that the Perceptive Ones had arranged for him and Angel to come together—possibly with the purpose of defeating the Zin. For a long time the Perceptive Ones had been attempting to encourage humanity to evolve, to help them win their fight against the Zin. So perhaps their destiny had been planned by the capable Perceptive Ones.
The thought gave Kirek hope. As they rode the tram, he slowly began to cage his psi power, compressing and focusing inward. The smaller and tighter he could condense it, the less room it would take up in Angel’s mind.
After setting his suit on automatic, he retracted his psi from the portions of his brain that allowed him to interact with his suit. Carefully withdrawing his psi from his eyes, he lost the ability to see others move at the speed of thought. Soon, his psi tired of holding the null grav, and that forced him to use his hands to hold onto the tram.
As the tram descended another level, he spoke above the rush of air going by. “Are you ready to take my psi?”
Angel stiffened then nodded. “What do I do?”
Although she’d clearly known the moment would come, he read panic in her eyes. “Don’t fight it. Let the energy flow freely through you.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll transfer as slowly as I can manage.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Try to relax.”
She kissed him back with a ferocity that revealed great fear. He hesitated, looking deep into her eyes, his stomach twisting at what he was asking from her and wishing he could avoid it. “Are you sure?”
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’ve never been this scared in my life. Not even when my mother died. But we have no choice. You know that.” She breathed in and exhaled a giant breath. “I’m ready.”
Kirek thought of his psi as a round, glowing ball about the size of a heart. With the very last of his psi that he’d kept for himself until the end of the transfer, he edged the ball from his mind toward Angel, allowing only the outermost corona to touch her. “How does it feel?”
“Bright. Hot.”
Kirek tried to turn down the glow and the heat, but he couldn’t. He’d left himself only enough energy to complete the transfer. If she was having difficulty handling the first ten percent, he doubted she could cope with it all. Maybe he should retreat before he did real damage … and yet perhaps she merely needed time to adjust. “Don’t forget to hold the shield,” he reminded her.
At his words, she strengthened the shield. At the same time she managed to dim the brightness and decrease the heat on her own. Not certain she was aware of what she’d done, he waited, allowing her to become accustomed to the feel of him.
Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and bottom lip before her suit mopped it away. “Okay. I’ve got you. I think I can do this.”
Apparently Angel thought she had all his psi. Kirek had to tell her the truth. “Sweetheart, I’ve only given you part of my psi. There’s more.”
“Let me make room.” She proceeded to squeeze her own psi down, going through much the same process he’d just finished, but she didn’t sever the connections from her brain to the rest of her body. “All right.”
He eased in a bit.
“I’m okay.” Her voice was tight, straining. “More.”
He gave her half and waited for her to adjust. It took several minutes and a few deep breaths, but finally she spoke. “How much is left?”
“We’re halfway there.”
She groaned. “There’s not enough room. I’ve retreated as far as I can go.”
Disappointment washed over him. “You’re certain?”
Her fists clenched. “I’m stuffed. Overstuffed. My brain cells are pounding the walls of my skull for relief.”
They were going to fail. Despair and helplessness kicked him in the gut, but Kirek couldn’t botch this transfer. If they didn’t succeed, millions of worlds and billions of beings would die as the Zin heated planetary cores and worlds exploded. Yet they couldn’t do the impossible and force more psi into her mind than her brain had room for. They couldn’t make more room … unless …
“Tell me exactly where you put your psi,” he asked as they rushed forward and downward through buildings, mines, factories, and warehouses filled with spare parts and electronics and raw materials.
“Here.” She tapped her forehead.
“And where did you put my psi?”
“Everywhere else.” Her voice tightened with pain. “The pressure’s incredible. Enormous. My head feels like a ripe tomato in a press.”
“In theory, there’s no reason why you can’t merge our psi and allow them to occupy the same space at the same time.”
“Oh … God.” Her face paled, and he suspected she’d lost control. “I didn’t … do … anything, and they are already combining.”
“Is the pressure easing?”
She grabbed his hand and squeezed so tight, if he hadn’t strong bones, she might have crushed his fingers. Her voice rose in terror. “Your psi is taking over. I’m losing … my identity.”
“No you aren’t. We are just merging. You’re still there. Don’t fight the merge. Please. Angel. Let me in.” He understood that he was asking her to let down every barrier that made her unique and her own person. The invasion had to be total, and for someone as independent as Angel, her instinct was to fight, to hold on to her self.
“I’m disappearing,” she wailed, but she courageously made more room.
“This is only for a little while,” he reminded her and gave her more psi, then more again. “We’re almost there. Just a little bit more.”
She steadied. “You have no idea. Your memories are in my head. But there’s no order. It’s madness.”
“Open your eyes,” he ordered, fearing she could become mentally unbalanced. “Focus on me. I’m here, Angel. Right next to you. Think about what we have to do—not the psi. Not the stray thoughts. We must defeat the Zin. Can you do that? Look at my face. We only have a few more minutes and then we’ll be close to where we need to be. Only a few minutes. Hang on.”
“I’m not sure I can.” Her face tightened in fright and agony. Kirek ached to help her. Instinctively, he gathered her into his arms and held on tight.
ANGEL TRIED TO ignore Kirek’s memory fragments swirling in her brain and to instead focus on their situation, but stark images invaded her mind—potent images from Kirek’s past. The images often made no sense. How could a male baby ask to take on the pain of childbirth? Why would Kirek feel hurt when his father refused to allow him to participate in an intimate family ceremony?
Oh … God. The memory of a father/son hunting trip and Kirek’s violent reaction to his first kill. Nausea. Pain. Drea
d. The image of a child sickened by the blood on his hands, a child who adored his father, looking up into his father’s face and seeing approval and love when the child felt nothing but horror, and using his psi to conceal his disgust.
Kirek’s fierce determination not to kill conflicted with the foundation of the society from which he came. At an early age, he’d developed a code of ethics against killing … all life. Kirek didn’t even eat real meat—in a society that considered hunting a necessity.
Images of invasion bombarded her. People screaming. Dying.
And in the center of chaos stood a calm woman, his mother, baking over an old-fashioned hearth, the aroma wondrous, the kitchen lit by glowing stones and the laughter of other women as they fed Kirek warm tarts and tousled his hair, clearly all of them loving him.
Flashes of strolling though a serene garden. Mating with a beautiful woman. But there had been no love. Only lust. Knowing that the woman meant nothing to Kirek eased any jealousy Angel might have felt.
Haunting years of loneliness without a body. Guilt from killing so many Zin during the wormhole blast. Stabbing, searing, agonizing guilt at the deaths he’d caused.
Stars … Kirek’s secret determination to now stop the Zin to save those he loved—even if the cost broke him. Killing went against his every moral fiber, yet he was determined to act against his own beliefs to save his parents.
So much love.
And pain.
Plus guilt.
Kirek was a man torn. A man at war with himself. She’d guessed at the strange duality of his nature but hadn’t comprehended his passions and beliefs raged like a hurricane. Caught between love for his people and his conscience, he was a warrior with scruples so set into his heart that killing was always his absolute last recourse, even if it risked his own life.
Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest Page 25