by Laura Kaighn
Vesarius rose from the command seat and strode to her station. His full height towered over the reclined computer expert. “Told me what, Talyabo?”
“I only know pieces of the story, Commander,” Zaneta defended leaning away from his imposing bulk. “You’ll have to ask the captain.”
Glaring at her, Vesarius debated whether Talyabo was purposely withholding information. Zan was a good officer, not prone to bouts of deception. She had been honestly surprised he had not heard about Toh’s findings. Withdrawing, Vesarius marched back to the center seat and plopped down with a huff. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and tried to calm his racing blood. Vesar warriors did not make unsubstantiated conclusions; they based their lives on time-honored traditions and facts. Coty was a factual man. Vesarius would wait for his captain.
The Vesar’s contemplation lasted minutes. His wait for Coty lasted until twenty hundred hours.
* * *
In the Pompeii’s conference room, Coty’s top officers and mission staff waited, seated around a large oval table. The captain strode in with Ambassador Tlenck, Glon at his side. Coty noted his crew’s curious stares and Vesarius’ simmering scrutiny. He hesitated before speaking first. Standing behind his chair, Coty leaned to grip the padded back with both hands. By way of introduction he said, “Most of you have met Ambassador Tlenck and his aide, Glon. I’ve heard our orders from Alliance Central and am in opposition. Please listen to what Tlenck has to say, however. Perhaps we can approve a compromise. Ambassador?”
The Tloni nodded at Coty then moved to sit. Glon and the captain followed his example. Folding his knobby hands atop the conference table, Tlenck began the briefing. He addressed the thirteen assembled. “Your captain is a dedicated leader. His protests are based on the risk to his crew and your past loyalties. However, I have news that may shock some of you and fulfill the rumors of others.
“Based on information made available to me by your historian and evaluated by myself and Maj. Gen. Chan, I believe we have a dated Orthop campsite on Mytok. We will make positive identification once we arrive and excavate the remains located in the hills north of the Mytoki city. Dr. Waters and his team will retrace the notes left by your chief archeologist, Jun-So Toh. Waters will also positively date the site and expand his search back to the city’s remains.
“Hopefully we will accomplish two objectives,” Tlenck explained with a sweep of his velvet eyes. “One is to identify the nature of the Orthop occupation. Two is to determine how much information was gleaned by the Orthops while they were encamped.
“I don’t need to express the importance of this mission,” Tlenck interjected rising to his feet. “If the Orthops had sufficient time to study the Arch controls, which is apparent, they just may have had time to study the mechanics of the machine.”
Jonas Botrocelli leaned forward suddenly, his hand slapping the table. “Those buggers could have learned how to build another time machine,” he voiced for everyone.
Sam Waters nodded grimly beside him. “Exactly, Jonesey. This campsite is our evidence to finding the truth. If the Orthops can construct another Arch, we’ve got to find out where and dismantle it, destroy all the notes, take out all the Orthop designers.”
Tlenck circled the table slowly. “Or else,” the ambassador added grimly, “we will have no present, no future.” His next statements the Tloni offered with stoic sobriety. “I have requested reinforcements, and Alliance Central is sending five battle cruisers which won’t reach Mytok for three weeks. Unfortunately our hyperspace gate to this sector is still under construction.” Tlenck continued his circling allowing that information to sink in before summarizing. “Time, ladies and gentlemen, is relevant, as your Einstein realized two centuries after our own Tleniss proposed the principle.
“Once these copycat artists have their own time machine,” Tlenck expounded, “they can change whatever history they choose, preclude any event, even eliminate all three of our races. It is vital that we find out how much the Orthops know.” The ambassador paused for a moment then considered Moxland Darby who was seated beside Dr. Sheradon. “The Alliance is extremely grateful to you, Miss Darby. Since we now understand Orthop written language, any written evidence left behind will be extremely useful.”
Dr. Sheradon raised her hand slightly from the dark tabletop. “A question, if I may?” When both Tlenck and Coty acquiesced, she continued, “Captain, you said you were opposed to these orders. It seems to me we’re doing just what we should. As the ambassador said, it’s vital.”
Coty leaned forward in his chair and sternly examined his entwined fingers. “There are certain conjectures left unspoken.” The captain’s jasper eyes rose from his hands to the Tloni diplomat. “Would you care to elaborate, Tlenck?”
The Tloni’s foxy ears jerked backward in disapproval. His dark purple tongue traced the perimeter of his buckteeth, and the tip of Tlenck’s fawn-furred tail twitched. “Capt. Coty, conjecture remains conjecture until proven fact. I only spoke of it under threat and in concern for the safety of this ship and her crew. I refuse to say more until we have excavated the Orthop campsite.”
Coty rose menacingly. “Very well, then. This meeting is adjourned. Everyone dismissed. Except for you, Sam. I need to talk to you in private.”
“Yes, Sir,” Sam Waters replied stiffly, tugging at his regulation-brown turtleneck.
Coty considered his Vesar commander who hesitated at the exit in order to be the last one out. “Vesarius, you have the bridge until I return.” The warrior nodded silently and followed Tundra from the room. When the conference door shut, Coty spun toward his historian and hissed, “How could Jun-So have made such an assumption? Where’s the physical evidence that a Vesar was with the Orthops at their campsite? Jun-So should have contacted us immediately.”
“By his notes, Captain,” Sam defended, “Toh was going to. He had found several leather strands and was searching for more when the Orthops arrived. Toh was ordered back to the city and was killed before the Pompeii rendezvoused.”
“But how could Tlenck just assume-”
Sam raised his hands. “Captain, please. Tlenck admitted only to supposition. We’ll know more once we excavate the site. Once we have a date and the evidence Toh saw, you can attack Tlenck with facts. More importantly, I need to determine whether or not the Orthops were there long enough to have studied the workings of the Arch. The entire Alliance is at stake. Captain, this goes beyond honor, beyond common sense. This is about our very survival.”
In response Coty exhaled heavily. “I realize that, Sam.” The captain tried to calm his wildly fluttering imagination. Closing his eyes, Coty envisioned a dark tunnel with a distant white light at its end. Vesarius had once shown the captain how, by meditation and concentration, one could move closer to the light, to enlightenment, and farther from the darkness and confusion. It hardly ever worked for Coty. He attributed his temper to his father’s many ancestors and marched from the conference room to find Tlenck. The captain had some fawn fur to yank.
* * *
Vesarius was relieved of duty and allowed to leave the bridge by twenty-two, ten. Rather later than normal, but his captain was stone silent and brooding, so the Vesar refrained from inquiry. The Pompeii was to arrive at Mytok by tomorrow afternoon. He and Tundra would have much to do then, so Vesarius made a quick stop in to the medical center to see Dorinda before retiring for the night.
“She’s not here,” the petite nurse with the blonde hair told him. “Dr. Sheradon’s moved her to quarters. The doctor felt she needed her privacy.”
“What room? Is she in JT’s cabin with Noah?”
Jocelyn Slater nodded. “Noah is with her, but I don’t have the cabin number. You’ll have to wait until morning to ask Dr. Sheradon.”
“Very well,” Vesarius mumbled and headed for his quarters. As he passed Jonathan Torch’s cabin, however, the warrior stopped. Curious, he was uncertain whether to press the door chime. Torch had not been a close friend but a man Vesa
rius trusted for honesty and an exceptional dedication to his craft. Noah and Tundra were more affable companions. His malamute Kin would definitely miss the otter if Noah and Dorinda left the Pompeii for Earth.
With a decisive gulp, Vesarius depressed the tiny blue button beside the door. No one answered immediately, and the Vesar felt a stab of guilt that he may have awakened Dorinda from some much-needed rest. Perhaps the cabin was empty. Debating whether to press the control again, Vesarius was surprised to recognize the short furry figure standing and yawning inside when the entrance suddenly hummed open.
Tlant blinked, realized who his visitor was, and snapped to attention. “Cmdr. Tankawani, I am surprised to see you. Is there something I can do for you, Sir?”
Smirking at the mispronunciation of his name, Vesarius assured, “No, young Lieutenant. I was expecting another occupant.”
The Tloni seemed confused. He rubbed at his sleepy, violet eyes. “You do realize Lt. Torch is deceased. I am his replacement. I thought it appropriate to accept his cabin as my own. Should I not have, Sir?” Tlant’s tail batted sideways nearly wrapping itself about the young Tloni’s leg.
“No, Lieutenant. It is acceptable for you to take Torch’s quarters.” Vesarius cleared his throat feeling foolish but not wanting the young Tloni to know. “In your studies here, may you gain wisdom from your predecessor. He was an excellent SAR specialist.”
Tlant nodded his gratitude then perked his ears forward in realization. “You were looking for Noah and his new Bondmate, Dori Tanner. You thought she would be here.”
“Uh, yes. Please forgive me for having awakened you,” Vesarius uttered mentally acknowledging the young Tloni’s insight. Tlant had a knack for seeing what was not readily apparent; essential for his job description.
“She is down the hall in 3-32. A very nice human,” Tlant jabbered. “I visited her in her cabin earlier. Noah wanted to apologize for not bonding with me. Dori apologized for not coming to greet me. Seems she needs to work more on her coordination. Noah is taking her swimming in the morning.”
“Yes, Lieutenant. Thank you,” Vesarius rumbled interrupting the loquacious Tloni. “Do not let me keep you from slumber. I will expect you in the gymnasium at oh-eight hundred hours for a training session.”
“Yes, Sir. Good night, Sir,” Tlant answered bowing stiffly and backing away.
After the door shut before him, Vesarius grunted. “Eager lad.” He then continued down the hall. Three thirty-two Tlant had said. Dorinda was probably sound asleep Vesarius acknowledged as the corridor curved around to her quarters. But when he paused before the designated door, it hummed open.
Vesarius stepped in, only then realizing that the entrance had not yet been programmed for its new occupant, nor had it been locked. The door simply slid aside, automatically, as the lift or medical center doors would.
The interior of the room was dim, but Vesarius could make out the low platform that was the bed. In the shadows, Noah raised his head at the visitor. Encircling his Bondmate’s crown, the otter’s slender body was cradled on the large pillow.
Vesarius’ eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. He could see that Dorinda was asleep on her right side, arms curled under her chin. He crept closer. “Forgive me, Noah,” Vesarius whispered. “I came for my nightly visit. May I sit a while?” He gestured toward the couch opposite the bed. Trilling quietly in answer, the otter laid his head back upon the pillow above Dorinda’s.
Sitting down, the Vesar folded his legs and regarded the Kin’s shiny black eyes. A somber smile traced the warrior’s wide lips. “You used to sleep that way when Jonathan complained of the cold nights on colony worlds,” he murmured. In response the otter moaned lowly. Vesarius instantly frowned. “Forgive me, my friend. I feel his absence as well.” Uncertain how to change the subject, the Vesar considered the stark contents of Dorinda’s new home. Standard crew’s quarters onboard the Pompeii consisted of a bed, a squat set of display shelves, a small study desk with computer center, a dresser, storage locker, diminutive bath facilities, and the built-in wall couch.
The cabin was too empty for Dorinda, too enclosed. She needed the fresh air of her Adirondack Mountains and the crystal coldness of the lake, not this sterile, stuffy spaceship. Vesarius regarded Dorinda’s sleeping countenance. There seemed no grief or fear in her slumber. Her skin was smooth and flushed with warmth. She seemed at peace in her dreams.
Perhaps Earth was the best place for the woman, Vesarius admitted. Her mountains were still there. Earth was still green, and there were still pockets of solitude in where Dorinda could write her books. The Vesar’s reassurances were more to soothe his own spirits he realized in the next moment. He swallowed unsure whether Dorinda’s songbirds all still lived. How sad if her book would have saved them.
For a while Vesarius’ mind drifted over past events. He closed his eyes and meditated toward calmness. Green mountains. The Sierra Nevada. Coty and the ducks. Tundra’s brave idea to rescue them all in one transport. Dorinda had been on that transport, dying, the Vesar grasped. The gate had still been open then, and Deputy Dan Hawthorne had been on the other side calling to her. Would twentieth century medicine have been able to save Dorinda’s life if Coty had simply tossed her back? Officer Hawthorne would have caught her, made sure she received medical care. Danny was probably taking care of Casey for her now.
Huaj´im. That was a century, not a few days ago. And Dorinda would have died on the way to hospital, over an hour’s drive away. She had to stay here, in this century, to live. But why had Dorinda breached the Arch in the first place? Vesarius could have made it through alone. He was a Vesar warrior; he needed no one’s assistance. Why had she crossed over to his time? He had not asked for her help.
But Vesarius had asked for her assistance. By the roadside, he remembered, still meditating on the couch. He had also asked Dorinda to come with him.
Vesarius’ eyes flung open. Fully awake, his head snapped straight from its slight incline. “I did ask,” he rumbled and stared at the dozing woman on the bed. Noah blinked at him, hissing low in irritation. “Green Eyes, forgive me. I was in pain, not thinking.”
Had the warrior craved her acceptance so, that he had on impulse asked Dorinda to accompany him? Hastily Vesarius rolled from the low couch. He retreated into the hallway the cabin door humming shut behind. Vesarius was alone in the corridor. Leaning heavily against the wall, the resentment of his mistake welled in him until it would explode in a savage bellow.
Holding his breath to quell the sound, Vesarius propelled himself to his own cabin. He had barely cleared the entrance before his knuckles let loose and the roar escaped taut lips. One fist slammed into the bulkhead leaving a distinct ding in the metal. His other swung backward into the plastiglass and metal frame of the room divider. With a great crash, the translucent partition shattered and collapsed to the floor.
“I did not want her here,” Vesarius hollered into the unlit room. “I cannot be responsible.” With a primal rumble he avowed, “She does not belong here.” Vesarius gasped then dropped to a crouch, for something shadowy snarled at him from the bed’s far side. In the dimness, the warrior spied the glowing gray eyes of Tundra. The malamute was bent low and menacing. “Tundra,” Vesarius warned as the dog stalked forward. “I will not be held responsible for her. No one can order me to care for her. She is here by accident.”
Tundra’s throat rumbled again, the canine now within striking distance of the Vesar’s muscular arms. The malamute sank to his haunches and edged closer. Ears flat, the dog’s gaze was locked on the Vesar’s ebony glare. Vesarius’ voice was losing its rage. “I cannot care for her. I am a Vesar warrior, tied to my family’s honor, my duty. My disgrace.”
Tundra was beneath the Vesar’s mahogany throat now. Studying his companion’s contorted face and seeing the anguish there, the malamute emitted a low whine. Vesarius hung his head in defeat. Tundra licked the warrior’s cheek and moaned in shared frustration.
* * *
Glancing about the room, Vesarius noticed that his Kin had also cleaned the floor of the largest shattered fragments. “Tundra, where are you?” he inquired. Rising, the Vesar peeled off his trousers and leather tunic. He then tossed the hide garments into the sonic cleaning unit and stepped into his private shower stall. Vesarius hit the hot water button. The spray, though barely warm enough to soothe the flame-blooded warrior, eased his aching back, stiff shoulder and thrumming hand.
As the liquid tumbled over his head, Vesarius unbraided his raven hair. He next finger-combed some bivanii cactus shampoo into the thick locks. With eyes closed, his mind received the image of a large rectangular basin of water. Tundra was watching Noah twirl and leap through the clear water of the Pompeii’s in-deck swimming pool. No one else was in the open facility, and the otter was in his glory racing around the perimeter and diving to the deep end.
Vesarius smiled. It was good to see Noah so exuberant again. The otter had always been an equal match for the amiable Torch – all the more tragic for Noah’s loss. The Vesar trod out of the shower to towel dry. “Tundra, where is Dorinda?” In answer, the dog imaged the flame-haired woman standing at the shallow end of the pool. Laughing, she clapped at the otter’s antics. Dorinda’s one-piece bathing suit was a deep green and fit snugly over her slender frame and tapered hips. As Tundra observed, Dorinda sank into the water. She leaned back her head to wet her flowing, auburn locks. Smiling she pushed off from the bottom and dog-paddled toward her frolicking Kin.
Vesarius stepped into his leather trousers. He then adjusted his now clean tunic over his shoulder crests and untangled the dangling leather fringes of his family medallion. Next, sitting down at his work desk, the Vesar tugged on his brown thigh boots. He tightened the laces up the back and asked his Kin, “She is well enough to swim?”
