“How can we help?” Yajain asked.
DiKandar turned to stand in profile to the window and the solitary blue light beyond.
“First, the tyrants.”
Mosam nodded.
“You are aware they are controlling at least two governors beyond the Toraxas Corridor?”
“Sovilan and Perdine.”
“Yes,” Mosam said. “There’s no telling how many other humans have been taken over.”
“How do they do it, doctor?”
He folded his hands together.
“They use their pheromones and sometimes a parasitic child-like line of their species. Once connected to an animal’s nervous system the child communicates with its parent by pheromone receptors and takes orders to control the host.”
“But when the parents died before the hosts returned to their senses immediately.”
“Yes, likely the parasites of the scout units have been engineered to die to keep us from recovering them.”
“Barbarism,” DiKandar said. “I pray humanity never pioneers such a technology.”
Yajain shook her head.
“Unfortunately, we already have, at least in engineering. The ‘greater’ bandojens are smaller than other humans due to gene therapy a hundred years old. I suppose no one ever genetically engineered operatives, though.”
Mosam glanced at Yajain.
“That’s an assumption I’m not sure we should make.”
“Not now.” Yajain returned his look. He turned away. “I suppose the current problem in dealing with the tyrants is really two problems. First, how can we tell who is under their control? Second, how do we prevent them from spreading their control?”
Mosam’s hands clenched together at his waist.
“The first of those is simple. A parasite may be physically noticeable, usually hidden in a lump attached to the spine of the host. The higher the better.”
“They connect to the nervous system.” Yajain’s hand went to her lips. “Then turn people into puppets.”
“Fascinating,” DiKandar said. “But I see at least one more problem, Doctor Aksari. The storms.”
“We still have little data on them,” Mosam said. “But they seem to be forming in high-pressure zones within mostly darkened expanses where its cold. They don’t just appear anywhere.”
“Cold,” DiKandar murmured. “Vilmanorin.”
“Vilmanorin?” Yajain frowned. “You mean the pillar where the large tyrant was captured?”
DiKandar took a deep breath. Her eyes flicked to Yajain.
“Yes, but more than that, it is a predator’s frozen paradise. The Sigali Expanse where Vilmanorin is located is almost entirely dark. Vilmanorin itself is a vast pillar, with six cores, but no light.”
Mosam’s hands broke from each other. He paced to the window and looked out.
“Tyrants like the cold. Though they are animals, they thrive at far lower temperatures than humans require.”
DiKandar glanced at Yajain, brow furrowed.
“I think Doctor Coe is suggesting that there may be other tyrants near Vilmanorin.”
“Impossible. Only the most skilled and resourceful hunters dare stay there for long. The animals there are abominations. The entire expanse is veiled not with mist, but with sleet.”
Mosam shook his head.
“We’re losing track of things. My lady, we are here to discuss Sifar.”
“You will not sway me,” DiKandar said. “If we do not attack now, Sovilan’s fleet will only grow stronger since his secession.”
The blue solna arced through clouds and began to bend around the side of the pillar it circled. Yajain turned from it to the Redoca.
“There may be an alternative.”
Mosam nodded.
“Sifar may be the seat of Sovilan’s power, but if we strike there countless innocents will die.”
DiKandar glared at Mosam.
“I will worry about protecting Dilinian citizens when all my people are safe.”
“A frontal assault will be costly, whatever you do,” Yajain said. “Why not distract him and then strike the vitals?”
DiKandar turned to the window. Her bulky right arm reached out. Her gauntleted hand pressed against the pane.
“You two are compassionate. But you are not leaders.”
Mosam bowed his head.
“With respect, my lady. I would not see more die than is necessary.”
“Do not presume to tell me what is necessary!” DiKandar’s firm brows bent in anger. “I have seen settlements blown to pieces, my people thrown into the abyss both by Sovilan and Dilinia. Vengeance is not only necessary, it is vital.”
Yajain flushed.
“Destroying Sifar will change nothing.” She marched toward DiKandar, fists clenched. “If you attack the innocents than what kind of a hunter are you? Chasing weak prey rather than confronting the deadliest opponent?”
DiKandar’s lips quivered. Her eyes fixed on Yajain’s face.
“A clever one.”
She took another step forward to stand directly before the hunter armored Redoca.
“A coward.”
DiKandar’s arm thrust out and slammed into Yajain’s stomach with the force of enhanced muscles. Pain flashed through her abdomen as all the air went out of her lungs. Yajain staggered back and fell to the dark tiles of the terrace. She gasped for breath. Mosam rushed to her side and knelt down. His hand moved down Yajain’s back.
“Redoca, forgive us,” he said. “We did not intend to anger you.”
Yajain’s breath returned and she sat up. Mosam’s hand remained on her back, supporting her.
DiKandar glowered down at them.
“I can understand your plea for the people as weakness from your profession,” she said. “Apologize, Doctor Aksari.”
Seething, red-faced, Yajain put her hand on the floor. She let Mosam help her up, his arm around her side, firm and warm. She stared into DiKandar’s face.
“I can’t.” She steeled herself for another blow. “I told you something you need to remember, Lady DiKandar.”
The Redoca’s mouth set in a firm line. Her eyes remained fixed on Yajain, her brows bent in a glare.
“Be gone. I may consider your words alone.”
“Thank you,” Yajain said.
“Be gone,” DiKandar repeated.
Mosam looked at Yajain. She leaned on him as they left the room and headed back to the tumbler. On the flight back to Castenlock, she watched the blue solna vanish completely behind its pillar. And the entire expanse fell into darkness.
According to the date stamp, the invitation to dinner with Captain Gattri arrived at Yajain’s cabin terminal only moments before she returned, aching and exhausted. She changed into her uniform and caught the next mover toward Castenlock’s forward compartments.
On the way, she overheard Avencia telling Harish in watchroom repairs to the rangers were complete. In ten hours all ships would be flying solo again, just in time to protect Castenlock during the coming battle. Ebonwing, Ruane’s Blade, Solnakite, they were research vessels just a few months ago.
The mover deposited Yajain at the officer’s dining room. Tei Officer Jania Gattri, of Ruane’s Blade, and Firio’s daughter met her on the way in. She gave Yajain a tight-lipped little smile.
“Doctor, it’s good to see you again.”
Yajain returned the smile as well as she could, while not mentioning the pain in her stomach.
“You too.”
Jania led the way to the table at the far side of the room. Firio wasn’t there, but Gellen Chakal sat beside Kebrim Ettasil, and on the sweaty captain of Solnakite’s other side sat…
“Dara!” Yajain said as she drew closer. “I didn’t know you were out of bed.”
Dara grinned.
“You should talk. It wasn’t that long ago your leg got stabbed.”
Yajain winced at the memory and sat
down across from Dara.
“Don’t tell me we’re comparing war wounds now.”
The grin on Dara’s face softened and she leaned back in her seat.
“Stop getting hurt if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Gellen shot Yajain a confused look.
“You two are strange friends.”
Jania sat beside Yajain.
“Not so strange, O Chakal,” she said. “Just think about the things you tell Ija.”
“Everything?”
“Maybe not everything,” Yajain said.
Dara laughed.
“You’ve been holding out on me? What is it?”
Yajain shook her head, unable to stop her smile.
“Not now, not now.”
Kebrim nodded soberly.
“That’s right. I’m sure Captain Gattri called us all here for a serious reason.”
Jania’s face fell. Dara’s laugh subsided, but she shook her head.
“We don’t know that.”
“But we reach Sifar in twelve hours,” Gellen said. “The former governor’s fleet will surely be there too.”
“Maybe he wants to make sure he sees us all, before the battle,” Yajain said.
Firio grunted as he entered and crossed the room to the head of the table.
“You could be right, Yajain,” he said. “But I hope all my fear is unfounded.”
She glanced at Firio. He’s seen battle before, but he used to fight them. Mercenary work was just as bloody as any military role during the war. Her side ached more at the thought. Yajain picked up a cup of water and sipped it to distract herself.
Dara turned to Firio.
“Thank you for the invitation,” she said.
“We worked together long enough for me to get used to you, Doctor.” Firio sighed. “Everyone, be careful out there.”
Kebrim’s hands folded before him. Gellen bowed her head. Beside Yajain, Jania nodded.
“Captain Gattri,” said a loud voice from behind Yajain. “Please, forgive my lateness.”
“Agent Pansar.” Firio gestured to the other end of the table. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Pansar pulled out his chair with an awkward left-handed motion. He sat carefully.
“So am I,” he said.
“Castenlock and the rangers will be serving as a relief force to protect the civilians when we arrive at Sifar. We’ve all come a long way together,” Firio said. “All spirits willing we will continue on this, together.”
Gellen’s head rose only slightly from her bow.
“Ija will want to see you all again.”
Pansar’s hand pressed to his forehead in a left-handed version of a cognate’s gesture of meditation.
“May you keep your minds clear.”
The food arrived, vegetables and roast byga. They ate with only little conversation. Relief forces serving in the midst of an intense battle might be targeted by either side, but without them, more civilians would die. As a medic, Yajain could be helping people in the settlement, or simply assisting the squad as before. Either way, she would be in the thick of things again, risking life and limb.
After dinner, wine arrived. Yajain drank first one glass, then another as the others talked. She stopped talking, as she thought of Mosam alone in his cell. If Castenlock was attacked he could be killed, and she still wouldn’t know enough about his motives, his actions. The battle yawned before Yajain like the abyss itself.
At last, Firio told them all to get some rest. Jania and Dara went with Kebrim and Yajain to take a mover back to the docking hangars. Gellen wished them all luck. Pansar slipped away in the opposite direction, while Firio returned to man the bridge for another hour of the shift.
The mover Yajain sat on, powered up and she turned to Dara.
“He’s all alone.”
“You mean Coe?”
“Yeah,” Yajain put a hand under her chin. “I wish I could say something to him.”
“Is that all?” Dara said over the slight hum of the mover’s lifts. “Then go on and do it.”
The mover stopped by the hangars. Kebrim helped Dara down. Jania jumped off too. Yajain waved to them. Then she turned to the pilot of the mover.
“Can you take me to the brig?” she said.
“Doctor, I don’t know if I—”
“Please,” she said. “I just want to say a few words.”
“Alright, ma’am, but be quick if you want a ride back.”
“Thank you.”
They sped down the chilly and dim central corridor. The pain from the Redoca’s punch mostly faded, but there would be a bruise. She watched the corridor pass by. Ratings on duty piled up chaff and shipping gear in both directions.
The mover pulled to a stop in front of the brig. Yajain climbed off and then walked inside. The guard recognized her. How many other halfbreed Ditari doctors were on this ship? He didn’t protest when she asked to be taken back to see Mosam. He sat on his bunk, staring down at his hands. But he looked up when the guard led Yajain toward him.
“Yajain.”
“Mosam.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t convince the Redoca.”
“That’s all—We tried. We couldn’t do more.”
“So, what is it this time?” he asked, not putting any force behind the words, no anger or resentment.
Yajain faced him through the glass.
“I want to know the truth, Mosam.”
“That’s what people ask me for lately.”
“About you. About what you did to Lin.”
Mosam’s face drained of color.
“I knew I’d have to answer that sometime. Yajain, I was selfish. I lied.” His voice sounded like an empty cavern, an empty echo of what Yajain’s past thoughts. “I lied to you. I lied to Lin most of all.”
“You loved her?”
Mosam’s face dampened with trickles of tears.
“No. But I needed to be close to her to get into the armory.”
Yajain’s eyes widened. “You didn’t… You didn’t…”
“We should have been friends, me and Lin.” Mosam did not wipe his streaming eyes, and he did not blink. “Doctor Savar told me to find a way. So I found one.” He looked up at her. “I know you forgive a lot. You can’t forgive me, can you?”
Yajain stared at him. Her heartbeat sounded loud in her head.
“Mosam. I don’t know.”
“Stay safe next shift,” he said.
The guard led Yajain from the brig to the mover. From there she rode back to the hangars, a heavy empty jar.
The Ditari bombardment of Sifar began from above. The pounding of guns and bombs and the shriek of beams woke Yajain in her cabin on the Solnakite. She dropped out of the hammock. A thin layer of sweat clung to her brow. Dark strands of hair fell around her face. Captain Ettasil’s voice echoed out of the speakers in the corridor.
“All hands, prepare for maneuvers. Response team to the tumbler bay.”
Yajain dressed hurriedly and hooked her vare blade in its sheath to her belt. The white uniform of a medic seemed aggressive now in her bleary mind. It’s the Redoca. She doesn’t want us to save anyone.
She swam through corridors to the tumbler bay. Boskem stood by the door of the tumbler, dark circles under his eyes and a beam rifle hanging from one shoulder. Ogidar, Banedd, and Sonetta were already on board with little Harish in his shell setting up the controls. Sonetta didn’t look at Yajain’s face, but her eyes lingered on the vare blade at her waist.
The sounds of the bombardment continued. Yajain took her seat, set the blade across her lap in its sheath, and belted herself in. Tei Officer Cava Sogun appeared at the door of the tumbler wearing her black braid and a burn vest. She nodded to the team, then approached Yajain and handed her a coil pistol in a holster, then turned and gave a similar weapon to Sonetta.
“Good luck, people,” she said. “We’ve got our work cut ou
t for us.”
“What’s the situation?” Yajain asked.
Sogun strapped herself to her seat. “The Ditari are bombing the docks and the House of Government, but they’re currently avoiding residential areas. The good news is that, for now, we can stay clear of the fighting.”
“That’s a hostile settlement,” Ogidar said, “Are they shooting back?”
“What they have left is still shooting, Cabler DiSayul. Be careful.” Sogun gave a thumbs up to Harish in his mirror. The doors of the tumbler sealed with a clunk and a hiss.
Yajain’s stomach jumped as the tumbler fell from the bay and then angled toward the settlement. She clutched the vare blade with one hand, and her chest strap with her other. Her eyes watered and her whole body felt tight and queasy. She squeezed her eyes shut. Sogun went on speaking into her headset.
“Captain, we have visual. Looks like the pillar’s shell is cracked…”
The rest of the team remained silent. Thrusters fired. Mercifully, the tumbler’s descent leveled out. The bombardment rang louder than ever, and the roar of thrusters surrounded Yajain. She forced her eyes open, though she kept them fixed on her lap.
Sogun’s voice grew louder to make up for the sounds of speed and destruction.
“Captain you can’t mean to bring the ship any closer—No, I understand. Thank you, sir.”
Yajain looked up hesitantly at Sogun. She had served aboard Solnakite during the survey missions, but Yajain had seen little of her then. When Yajain and Dara brought live animals on board Sogun always stood and watched, unflappable.
The Tei Officer set her jaw firmly.
“People, Solnakite is going to be covering us at close range. They’ll Shoot down munitions and diffuse beams that get too close.” She took a deep breath, clearly laboring to avoid less optimistic words. “We’re lucky today.”
The tumbler decelerated. Yajain hung on tight as they banked. Through the small porthole beside Ogidar’s head, she glimpsed the settlement.
Strands of shredded and perforated metal streamed from the pillar’s side over the abyss where the docks had been. Some platforms partially supported by arc lifts still hung or rotated in place, though explosions had severed their connection to the pillar itself. External walkways and small terraces burned and crumbled. Smoke billowed from the vertical fields of crops above and below the settlement. Cracks ran through the stone of the pillar’s shell in places where gray stone splintered.
Flame Wind Page 6
