Rayn blinked, and still no tear was cast.
Much had changed over the years, but never that.
Ten
No Accident
TWO HOURS AFTER Rayn left his perch above the Ghel Mar to return to Sanctuary, Dina entered the Opaline Oasis. She discovered a private, softly padded chair next to a decorative water fountain cast to look like a pond filled with aquatic animals. The fountain was surrounded by large potted plants, all real, and gently gurgling water tumbled down a miniature waterfall into the pond. Dina found the sound soothing.
Well, she thought, now that I’ve confronted him with the truth, now what? What could she possibly say to him that would convince him to help her? She thought back to earlier in the afternoon when she’d been in her room studying every computer file she could bring up on B’harata and the society the dens lived in.
Though it should have been obvious to her, it took a while for Dina to realize that one of the major differences between B’haratans and Glacians was the value placed by society on morality. Dina was a Glacian, as were Jon and most of the settlers on Exodus. Glacian law and mores placed a relatively high value on morality, believing the protection of others was paramount.
B’haratans, on the other hand, placed a higher value on prudence, the protection of oneself. Only days ago her first and only reaction would have been to think of B’haratans as selfish bastards. But now, for the first time in her life, she wished she could truly understand the dens, could know what they wished for, what they dreamed of, what motivated them.
She wished she could have hours and hours to talk to Rayn without the verbal swordplay and innuendo. If he could only be honest with her, and she with him, how much she could learn! She would have to try to talk to him again tomorrow. Time was getting short, however. Jon was objecting more and more to Dina’s forays into the desert, and Minister Chandhel was keeping a constant pressure on for progress on the case.
Progress! She almost laughed. Her interviews from earlier in the day had netted no new information. The stores officer had claimed not to have touched any of the skimmers, and the mechanic stated he only went to the bay to retrieve a tool he had left the day before. Dina had pulled up personnel files on both men from her computer, but there was nothing in either man’s background or work history to raise any flags.
Worst of all, the report on Jon’s skimmer had been inconclusive. Dina had personally interviewed the mechanic who had submitted the report, but got nothing from the session but a headache. The mechanic had complained about the poor quality of the skimmers and the fact that the sand and dust of the desert were constantly wreaking havoc with the machines.
She had gone back to the Medical Center to report all her findings to Jon, but his mood had been as foul as the intakes the mechanic had bemoaned.
Dina closed her eyes and heard the soft rhythm of the water as it constantly flowed through the fountain, burbling to the top, then down the stepped waterfall, finally to trickle and splash into the pond. Her thoughts drifted back to Rayn.
That was what his voice reminded her of. Water flowing down a stream . . . lazy and easy on the surface, strong and turbulent underneath. Suddenly she had an idea. Why wait until tomorrow?
She closed her eyes, and a quick countdown brought her mind to the Road of Time. Rayn, can you hear me? She projected as she had before, knowing her projection was strong enough, but there was no answer. She knew he was angry with her, but was his anger such that he wouldn’t talk to her at all?
Rayn, please. I apologize for this morning. I know apologies don’t mean anything to you, but I need to speak with you as soon as possible. Rayn, at least answer me.
Dina tried for several minutes more, but still received no acknowledgment. Worried now, the fountain no longer seemed soothing. Dina arose and quickly left the Oasis.
Back in her room, she made a quick plan to rise extra early the next day and again attempt to contact Rayn. Failing a response, she planned to ride to Sanctuary and make her plea in person. Sleep, however, did not come easily that night. When her fatigue finally forced her to succumb, it wasn’t to restful slumber, but dreams that tormented her with images more vivid and disturbing than even her troubled daytime thoughts had been.
She was in the tunnel, and it was as dark as a killer’s soul. There was something on top of her, crushing her, and she couldn’t breathe. She pushed against the weight, but the oppressive heaviness remained, suffocating her. She strained to reach beyond it, and suddenly a faint light appeared above her. Encouraged by its promise, she shoved harder at the mass, and as the brightness grew, she could see at last what was pressing against her. It wasn’t stone or sand, but a body—a man’s body, lifeless and cold.
She saw the face and woke up with a violent start.
Dina’s heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she felt chilled and damp, this time not with the sweet sweat of arousal, but the cold sweat of fear. She scrabbled off the bed and ran to the bathroom, splashing water on her face, but the final image of the dream was so vivid in her mind’s eye that she couldn’t stop her heart from threatening to burst from her chest. Gods, what was happening?
The last image she had seen before the dream broke had been of Rayn’s eyes staring at her, dull and brown, all traces of gold leeched away by death.
She circled the room. Trying to sleep again would be futile. She looked at the time. It was still three hours before dawn. Dina suddenly knew that the only thing that would keep the fear at bay was action.
She took a shower, dressed in a desert suit designed for cooler temperatures, then recorded a message for Jon on her computer that he would receive upon awakening. In the message she stated her destination and her fear that something at Sanctuary might be amiss. She promised to send marks and a full report as soon as possible. Dina knew the chance was good that Jon would come after her, broken leg and all, after receiving a message so ominous and vague, but she didn’t care. By then she would know what had happened.
She descended to the storage bay and checked her skimmer carefully for supplies, including a second desert suit for the later, hotter temperatures. Though in a hurry, she remembered to carefully check the intake on her skimmer like the mechanic had showed her.
Once on her machine, she slowly made her way to Ghe Wespero, where many of the mercari were already setting up shop for the day’s business, although agherz, the Exodan dawn, was still an hour away. By now she was a familiar sight to many of the mercari, who were quick to send appreciative glances her way, even covered as she was in the desert suit. She knew she was especially noticeable this morning, though it was still dark out. Her evening suit had reflective strips built in, and she wore no hood, only a clear eyeshield for protection.
One of the mercari, whose stand was in the enviable position of being directly adjacent to the gate, waved his arms at her and called out. Impatient to be on her way, she nevertheless slowed her skimmer to find out what the man wanted.
“Please, miss. I have a message for you. Please, it’s very important.”
Something in the man’s urgent tone made her jerk her machine to a halt. “What is it?”
“Here.” The man held out his hand to Dina, and when she reached out her own hand, he dropped something into her palm, whirled, his tunic billowing out behind him, and melted into the predawn darkness. Dina looked down at the scrap of folded paper, opened it, and frowned. She flicked on the reading light at the edge of her windshield and held the paper underneath the narrow beam of light, her hand trembling.
“Come to KK as quickly as you can. G will meet you there.” The note was signed “AS.”
She wasn’t sure who “G” was, not having met all of Rayn’s men, but it didn’t matter.
She set her finder for Kathedra Kap via the Albho Road and accelerated her skimmer, quickly leaving the gate behind. More than ever she feared something terr
ible had happened. She knew she shouldn’t assume the worst, but tried to prepare her mind for Rayn’s death. The dens dead. Why should she even care? He had saved her life, yes, but he had also lied to her. She still didn’t know what he wanted with her. And what did she want with him? He was an outlaw, a thief. Not of money or goods, but of free will. Wasn’t that the most horrible crime of all?
The bright beacons of the way stations were like friendly buoys on a dark sea, but she passed their brightness quickly, and the darkness soon enveloped her again. As she approached the final way station, the pinpoint of light on the dark horizon made her think of the hot touch. As the light grew larger, the circle of brightness shimmered with the promise of warmth and safety. She was home, sang the light. Home.
But the beacon, as she passed, almost blinded her, pitching her into an emptiness that was beyond black. She shuddered, and a cold chill washed over her. She tried not to think of the hot touch, but concentrated on the red glow of her trailfinder.
The coming of agherz restored dimension to the desert, and as the night sky rolled back before her, the horizon line reappeared. She turned off the Albho Road, and dawn bloomed behind her, lighting up the low, snaking dunes of the Wiara. She was thankful for the light, and by the time she reached Kathedra, the Exodan sun was beginning its daily ascent in earnest. She slowed her skimmer and brought it to a smooth stop in front of the cavern.
She drew her rez gun and, with the skimmer still powered on, called out. “Is anyone here?”
She heard her voice echo faintly, and then the stillness of the early morning desert returned, as if nothing had disturbed it. She waited, and just as she was about to call out again, a tall man stepped out from the interior of the cavern.
He was heavy with muscle and wore his dark hair pulled back and tied behind the crown of his head. Dina recognized him at once as the man she had first seen speaking with Rayn inside Sanctuary. He held his hands up to show he carried no weapon, then strode slowly toward her skimmer. He stopped several bars from her and spoke in a low voice.
“I am T’gaard Kai-reudh and a friend of DeStar’s. Mistress Alessane asks you to come with me to Sanctuary.”
“I remember you, Gaard. Tell me. Is he dead?”
Gaard blinked at the rising sun. “As of last night, no. As of right now, I don’t know.”
“Let’s go. I’ll follow you.”
As Gaard trotted to his skimmer, parked just out of sight behind a rock formation, she struggled to take a deep breath, but the gritty air caught in her throat. Dina trailed Gaard as he wove his way southwestward along the base of the Chayne through the serpentine canyons, and after seemingly half the morning had passed, they arrived at the now familiar entrance to Sanctuary.
There were several hooded men posted around the entrance, and all but one stood as still as sentinels as Gaard and Dina parked their machines and hurried inside. One had preceded them inside, and before Dina got past the first chamber, Alee met her.
“Thank the gods you’re here, and sooner than I hoped,” said Alee, grabbing Dina’s hands.
“Alessane, where’s Rayn?”
“Come.” Alee turned and led Dina to the inner chamber. There, on a low bed, lay Rayn. Dina moved quickly to the bed and sat beside him, automatically checking his respiration and pulse. His shallow breathing alarmed her, but she kept her features relaxed for Alee’s sake.
“What happened?” she asked Alee, who had crumpled to her knees next to Dina.
“Last night, before the sunset, he left. I don’t know where. He returned al-merkwia, but he was in a strange mood. He didn’t want to talk; he didn’t want anything.” Alee’s voice started to break. Dina could see that she had been crying and had probably had no sleep. She put a hand on Alee’s shoulder and urged her gently to continue.
“I finally convinced him to have something to drink. It was a yegwa drink. I make it for him all the time. It’s my own recipe, but somehow . . . last night, it was poisoned. I don’t know how. He got sick. We did everything to counteract the poison, but he passed out. I didn’t know what else to do. I sent Gaard to the city to leave a message for you.”
“Alessane, I’m not a doctor.”
“I know, but you’re an off-worlder. You may know things we don’t. But it’s more than that. There’s something between you and Star, something I don’t understand. He wouldn’t talk about it, but I felt I could trust you. There’s no one else outside of Sanctuary I would trust.”
“Thank you, Alessane. I’ll do what I can.”
“I’ll leave you with him, but I’ll be in the next room. Call for me if you need anything, or if . . .” Alee’s voice trailed off.
Dina nodded, and as Alee padded out of the room, she turned back to Rayn. She reached her hand out gingerly to touch his face. She felt no aura, nothing. That alone scared her. But at least his skin was warm. He was alive.
It was strange to see him so helpless. He was such a powerful man, yet like this, he was no different from any other. She tried to think what to do. She had to reach him. But how? What did she know of the subconscious mind? She knew it does not think, does not rationalize, reason, or know good from evil. It just does what it’s told to do, unquestioningly. It takes orders, like a good soldier. An idea came to her.
She thought back to when she was trapped in the Kewero tunnel, and suddenly she knew what she had to do. She had to do for him what he had done for her.
Glad for the privacy of the chamber, she stretched out on the bed next to Rayn. Remembering his words about physical contact making the mental contact easier, she lightly fingered the contours of his face, from the widow’s peak to his temple, down along the line of his jaw to the hint of a cleft below his mouth. She couldn’t resist running the pad of one fingertip across his lips, but was unprepared for the response in her own body to the warmth and softness of the sensitive skin. Her breath caught, and she struggled to clear her mind, returning her fingers to his temple and closing her eyes tightly.
She steadied her breathing and sent out a narrow mind probe. Touching an unconscious mind was the eeriest sensation she had ever experienced. There was a blackness, cold and empty, but far from the stillness she expected, it was the dark of a storm, uncaring and violent. She felt caught in a vortex that sucked at her and threatened to wrestle away all control. Dina felt herself start to hyperventilate, and recognizing the onset of burn, wisely retreated to the edge of his mind. Slowing her breathing, she waited, knowing she would have to probe him deeper than she had ever probed anyone before. Ready again, she projected the energy of her mind into his, determined to find the life she knew was still there somewhere.
This time she knew what to expect and pushed beyond the chaos of blackness. She sensed the involuntary functions of respiration and heartbeat at work, like steady machines that work as well in the dark as in the light, but she couldn’t find him. She edged deeper still, until at last she sensed a small area of light, of life. Rayn, can you hear me? I’m here with you. Don’t you dare die on me, you bastard. Come on, take my strength and hold on to me. I won’t let you go.
She felt the area of light pulse brighter. Encouraged, she continued, willing her strength to him, compelling him to live. She lost track of time, and weariness finally forced her mind to relax. She slept, her body still pressed to his, her mind still coiled around his.
She heard the voice, far away, and frowned. It wasn’t Rayn’s voice.
“Dina, wake up, please . . .”
Dina turned toward the musical plea, opened her eyes, and saw Alee’s concerned face above hers. “What is it?” she asked, still trying to pull her mind from Rayn’s.
“Your partner’s here. Gaard and the others are keeping him at the entrance, but your partner is threatening mass destruction if we don’t produce you immediately.”
Dina couldn’t help smiling. Dear Jon, coming to h
er rescue, when he himself was barely out of the doctor’s care. Self-consciously, she slowly unwound herself from Rayn’s side and arose from the bed. “It’ll be all right. I’ll talk to him.”
Alee looked at Rayn. “How is he?”
“I think he’ll be okay. He’s a hard kill. I’ll be back after I talk to Jon.”
Dina made her way deliberately to the first chamber inside the compound entrance, where Rayn’s men had graciously allowed Jon to stand to get out of the sun. She recognized Gaard, as well as Kindyll Sirkhek, Trai Morghen, and Raethe Avarti, the last three from their holos in the AEA files. In addition to the four she recognized, there were four others she didn’t know.
Of all the men, Gaard, a Dreinen, was the tallest, taller even than Jon. All the Dailjan, however, were young and physically fit. All wore stern expressions, and all of them kept their eyes on Jon. They carried no weapons, but Dina didn’t doubt for a moment that any one of them would lay down his life for Rayn in an instant.
Jon was surprisingly calm, but Dina caught not only winces of pain in his face, but muscles twitching in his cheek, a sign that Dina learned months ago meant Jon was exerting himself to control his temper. She sensed the composed exterior was due to the audience they had. She had no doubt things would be different once they were back at the Visitor Center.
“Just what are you doing here? I told you to stay out of the desert.” His eyes, as well as his voice, softened as he took in her appearance. “Are you all right? You look terrible.”
“Thanks. Yes, I’m fine. Just tired. Jon, I had to come.”
“What happened here?”
“Someone tried to kill DeStar. He was poisoned last night. He’s still unconscious.”
Jon’s brows arched. “Gods, who’s going to be next? I take it you think our killer is to blame?”
“I would assume so. I haven’t been able to question anyone yet. We’ve been busy trying to keep DeStar alive.”
The raised eyebrows folded into a frown, and Jon shuffled his feet, trying to take as much weight as possible off the leg encased in the lightweight cast. A line of sweat trickled down each side of his face. “I don’t understand your role here. You haven’t had any special medical training, have you?”
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