“That’s what I’m hoping. It also occurred to me that our own people need to adjust to the newcomers.”
He raised an eye ridge in surprise. “You learn quickly, General,” he said. “So does your son.”
“I watched how you and your people adapted to us, Kusac.” He stood up. “I’m glad to see you fully recovered. You gave us—your Lieutenant and me—quite a scare. I won’t take up any more of your time.”
“It was just a fever,” he said, getting up. “You obviously managed to finish off the interviews without me.”
“I still need your help, Kusac,” Kezule began.
He held up his hand. “I know that there’s still a lot to do,” he said. “I’m not trying to deny it.”
Kezule nodded, and reaching into his pocket, drew out a slim card, not unlike the ones used as room keys on the N’zishok. “You should have this. Put it into the reader slot in one of the comps in the library,” he said. “It’s a transcript of a tape I had made of my memories from the far past. It’ll help you fill in the blanks on that file you’re translating.”
“Thanks,” he said, surprised, taking it from Kezule.
Zan’droshi, Zhal-L’Shoh 25th day (January)
While they were away, work on salvaging the Zan’droshi had progressed to the point where power had been returned to a limited number of areas and functions. One essential had been gravity throughout the areas in which they were working. A briefing room near their HQ had been set aside for them as a place to eat. It was here that Banner was sitting, still in his suit, slowly sipping water from a vacuum pack.
The door opened and Khadui, helmet and gloves in his hands, came in. Nodding at Banner and the two Primes seated at the other end of the table, he went to the food box to pick up his sealed dish, then returned to sit beside his fellow Sholan. Dumping his gloves in his helmet and both on the vacant seat beside him, he put the dish on the table.
“Lieutenant,” he said, snapping the sealed lid off. He picked up the vacuum sealed meal of meat and activated the heating mechanism.
“How’s it going?” asked Banner.
“We’ve finished loading the suits from the port side lockers,” he said. “Like the other Valtegan ones, the electronics seem to be fine but the padding needs some attention. They’re being sent over to Kij’ik now.”
“How many?”
“A hundred or so. Fix ‘em up then give the newcomers a few days induction into wearing them, and they’ll be ready to help us.” He undid the cap on the meal pack and put the nozzle into his mouth, sucking up a mouthful of the paste. He pulled a face as he swallowed. “Food like this makes you glad of the mess,” he said. “Where’s it come from?”
“The mess,” grinned Banner. “They liquidize a meal and fill those reusable packs with it.”
“Well, it still tastes as bad as our suit rations do,” said Khadui, taking another mouthful. “It was good to see the Captain looking so well again last night.”
“Yes,” said Banner, taking another sip. “It was.”
“He seemed sharp, really on top of things when he joined us,” continued the older male, lowering his voice a fraction.
“Yes, he was.” Banner stirred, wondering where Khadui was going with this.
“I’ve noticed that in the last few weeks he’s seemed to be like that for a couple of days, then in some kind of stupor for the next four or five. Reckon that fever’s been hanging around in his system for some while?”
“Could well have been,” Banner replied. So Khadui did have some concerns about Kusac.
“Don’t get me wrong,” said Khadui hastily. “I’m not like Dzaou, I think the Captain’s managing well enough.”
Banner nodded, taking another sip of his water. He’d thought long and hard about taking another member of the crew into his confidence, but now that Khadui had made the opening move, this was as good a time as any.
“I’m concerned he’s taken on too much responsibility from the start, what with the cub and everything else,” he said carefully. “Considering the history he and Kezule have, and the aggravation he’s had to put up with from Dzaou, he’s holding it together well, but it’s bound to be causing him stress. Maybe it’s time you and I lent a hand there.”
“With the cub?” Khadui glanced at him briefly. “I don’t know that either Kezule or the Captain would let us. Captain’s very protective of the lad.”
“That’s what worries me. It’s going to be a wrench when we get home and he has to give him to the authorities.”
“I heard Shaidan was technically an orphan and the Captain intended to keep him,” said Khadui, sucking up the last of his meat course.
“Not everything works out the way we want it to, Khadui, you know that,” said Banner.
“I’d be willing to help, of course,” said the older male, putting the empty container back in the dish and taking out the one of water.
“Good. Meanwhile, there’s something else you can do for me,” he said, switching into the Highland dialect they used when they didn’t wish to be overheard. He palmed a piece of paper out of his suit pocket onto the seat beside Khadui. “I need the components on this list. Can you get them back to Kij’ik for me?”
Khadui glanced at the list as he swept it into his hand. “Take a day or two, but yes, they’re common enough here. You’ll need a case. What size, and do you want a keypad and screen?” He stuffed it into his suit pocket.
“Size of our comp pads, and yes on the screen and keypad. It’s central to our backup plan, in case we need one. Need to know basis, so keep it to yourself.”
Khadui nodded, taking a drink from the pack. “That makes me feel a lot more comfortable,” he said. “That lizard is one devious bastard.”
“Thought it might, and yes, he is,” said Banner, slipping back into Sholan speech. Finishing his drink, he packed it away and got to his feet. “I’ll see you on the other side,” he said, picking up his helmet and dish and heading off.
At the end of his shift, as he was walking over to the elevator in Kij’ik’s landing bay, he caught sight of M’kou ahead of him. “Hey, M’kou, wait!” he called out and began to run toward the young Prime Officer.
M’kou stopped and waited for him. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” he asked when the other arrived.
“No, just wanted a quiet word alone with you.”
“We’ll have the elevator to ourselves,” said M’kou, turning to hit the call button. “Will that do?”
“Fine,” said Banner. “I’m concerned that stress may have been a factor in the Captain’s illness,” he said when the door had closed on them. “Youngsters can be tiring, I know, so I’m offering to take some of the burden of being with Shaidan off him, say two days a week?”
“On the contrary, I think that your Captain considers the time he spends with Shaidan to be the most relaxing.”
“Can I be frank with you, M’kou?” Banner asked.
“Please,” said M’kou, with a hint of surprise on his face.
“The Captain is getting too attached to the cub. When we do get home, no matter what he thinks, Shaidan will be handed over to the authorities, who will decide where he lives, and that will come as a great wrench to them both. I’d like to spare them some of that distress by helping them distance themselves a little from each other.”
M’kou regarded him thoughtfully for a moment or two. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Lieutenant. That’s a matter you’ll have to take up with your Captain. I will tell you, however, that the General is not likely to allow it because Captain Aldatan is brought down to the Command level to see Shaidan. There the child has his own possessions around him and is more comfortable.”
“Shaidan has been brought up to our level before now.”
“On a few occasions,” agreed M’kou. “At your Captain’s personal request. I think you’ll also find Shaidan himself resistant to the idea. He knows the Captain well now, and feels at ease with him. He isn’t as comfortable with the re
st of you.”
“Don’t you think that should be remedied, that it’s bad for Shaidan?” Banner pressed him.
M’kou turned away from him slightly, watching the level indicator. “I think it’s a matter for you to discuss with Captain Aldatan, Lieutenant,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” The elevator had begun to slow. “This is your level.”
“Thanks, anyway, M’kou,” said Banner as it drew to a halt and the doors opened. “I’ll have a word with the Captain, then.” At least he now knew that the General was also involved in deciding who Shaidan saw, not just Kusac.
As he headed up corridor A to their corridor, he began to think through what Khadui had told him at second meal. He’d been aware of Kusac seeming distracted and distant since they’d arrived here, but hadn’t realized this new pattern of behavior in the last few weeks had become as marked as the older Sholan had inferred. He’d need to keep more of an eye on him than he had been doing, but working separately from him all day didn’t make it easy. As for the evenings, Kusac ate with Shaidan, so they didn’t even share third meal. When he was finished, he’d often as not stay in his room rather than come to the rec. The only night he could be sure of seeing Kusac was when they were sparring. Still, most mornings he now held a debriefing in their lounge after first meal, before they all started their shifts. He could get an idea of his mental state then.
Banner sighed. Kusac was as difficult to pin down as smoke. He and Kezule, in their own ways, made a strangely similar pair.
“A word of warning,” said M’kou quietly, several hours later, as he and Kusac left the room where he’d been with Shaidan.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Now might be a good time to tell your crew that Shaidan is your son. Some of them are getting concerned that you are too close to him for the good of either of you.”
“Banner’s been saying that for some time,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I didn’t say it was him.”
“You didn’t need to,” he said, a slight touch of humor in his tone. “No one else would approach you.”
“He asked me to arrange for Shaidan to be with him two nights a week rather than with you, Captain. He thinks stress contributed to your recent illness.”
Kusac stopped dead. “Stress had nothing to do with it,” he said angrily. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him to discuss the matter with you, Captain,” he said, his tone placatory. “I did say that I believed you found your time with him relaxing, and that the General would be unlikely to allow anyone but you down to the Command level.”
“It could amuse Kezule to let Banner do that,” he said, the beginnings of a snarl in his voice.
“You’re wrong,” said M’kou instantly. “The thought might amuse him briefly, but he wouldn’t allow it, either down here or on your level. He gave you his word that you would see your son every day and he hasn’t broken it yet, Captain, because he trusts you.”
Kusac stared at him, then sighed. “You’re right,” he conceded. “He has too much to lose if he breaks his word to me.”
“I also told your Lieutenant that Shaidan himself would be unlikely to want to be with anyone but you,” said M’kou.
He began to smile gently as the beginnings of an idea formed in his mind.
“Captain, why don’t you just tell them who Shaidan is? Then your crew would stop worrying about the time you spend with him and that your authorities will take him away from you when you get home.”
“I can’t, M’kou,” he said, starting to walk on. “There’s a whole pack of reasons why I can’t tell them until we leave here, but they mustn’t know.” He shot M’kou a glance. “Trust me on this, M’kou, and please say nothing.”
“I wouldn’t interfere, Captain,” reassured the young Prime. “I haven’t even mentioned it to the General.”
Surprised, he looked at him again. “Thank you, M’kou,” he said feelingly. “I appreciate that, and your warning.”
“Now that I have a young sister, I understand the call of family,” said M’kou. “I know how difficult it must be for you to leave Shaidan here nearly every night.”
“I love him a great deal,” said Kusac softly. “He’d make any father proud.”
“You’re lucky to have each other,” said M’kou with a smile as they reached the elevator.
“Shaidan will have to spend more time with me and my crew,” he said, shaking off the sentimental mood with an effort. “If I can have him brought to me twice a week so we can eat in the mess, then go to the gym after, it will do a lot to keep Banner’s objections at bay.”
“I’m sure I can find a way to suggest it to the General,” said M’kou with a grin. “You might consider taking Shaidan to the pool. He hasn’t been there yet.”
“That’s an idea,” he said. “I hope you like playing games in the water.”
“Water is our second home. Besides, it’s good training for when Lazaik and I have our own children.”
“You’re thinking of that already?” he asked, astonished.
“We need to breed to sustain this colony, Captain,” said M’kou.
“Now we have families living with us, she will get even more broody.”
He laughed, patting M’kou’s arm. “I can’t believe it! You as a father. You’ll make a good one, though, I know it.”
“I like to think I would,” smiled the young Prime, inclining his head. “Good night, Captain.”
“Good night, M’kou.”
Vartra sat in the armchair opposite Shaidan’s bed, watching him sleep. The seed of an idea he’d planted in the cub the night before had taken fruit already in Kusac when Shaidan had mentioned it to him. Now all that remained was to give Shaidan the necessary knowledge of the skills his father would start teaching him the following evening.
Fighting was not something he’d been good at, so he’d had to visit L’Seuli and take the knowledge from him. He’d never done a knowledge transfer before and hoped this one would go well. Oh, he knew the theory of how to do it, but that wasn’t quite the same. Shaidan was certainly old enough to start learning, but given the circumstances, he’d decided that the sooner the cub knew how to defend himself, the better. No matter what the Camarilla thought, the future was far from written in stone yet.
He rose to his feet in a fluid move and advanced to the side of the bed, sitting down beside the sleeping cub. So small and helpless he looked, lying there with his hand curled on the pillow beside his face. Sighing, he reached out and laid his hand on the child’s forehead, marshaling his thoughts.
When it was done, he got to his feet and bent down to gently stroke Shaidan’s forehead. “Sleep well, little one,” he said, before stepping back and melting into the shadows from which he’d come.
Shola, Kusac’s estate, Zhal-L’Shoh 26th day (January)
Carrie picked Layeesha up out of the playpen, and holding her close against her chest with one hand, took a firm grip on her scruff with the other. Instantly, the squirming cub froze.
“You’re very good with Sholan cubs,” said Ray, parting the fur on Layeesha’s shoulder then swabbing it with an antiseptic wipe before administering the inoculation.
“Shush, my pretty,” she crooned as her daughter yowled in protest. “It’s all over now.” She rubbed her cheek against the cub’s, then returned her to the playpen with her brother and half sister.
“They’re not Sholan,” she replied, reaching for three pieces of dried fruit she’d set aside for them. “They’re hybrids.” Bending down, she passed a piece to each of them.
“How can you tell?” asked Ray, dismantling the hypo gun ready for sterilization.
“Layeesha and Dhaykin are my twins, and Rishu is their half sister,” she said dryly.
There was a small silence. “I didn’t know you had children.”
“I’ve three, and it looks like you’re about to meet my oldest,” she said, catching sight of T’Chebbi
and Yashui, the cubs’ senior nurse.
“Mamma!” shrieked Kashini, racing over to fling herself at her mother.
“Hello, sunshine,” she said, bending down to catch the small blonde-furred cannonball. “Did you have fun seeing the rhaklas with T’Chebbi?”
“Yes. T’Chebbi put pretties in my hair. See!” she said, grabbing a braid and waving it in her mother’s face.
“Very nice. I hope you thanked her,” Carrie grinned over her head at T’Chebbi.
“I fank her,” asserted the cub, ears flicking toward the other female. “Din I, T’Chebbi?”
“Yes, cub, you did.”
“We’ve just finished,” said Carrie, letting Kashini scramble back down to the floor. “Rishu was fine, much braver than my two.”
T’Chebbi laughed and bent down to pick her daughter up, holding her carefully away from her knife and gun.
“This is Ray, one of the two Earth doctors I spoke about,” Carrie said, indicating him with a nod of her head.
T’Chebbi nodded briefly at him. “You want we take all cubs home, Carrie?”
She glanced at her wrist comm. “If you don’t mind. They’re due to be fed in half an hour and I’ve still got to finish up here.”
With much complaining, Kashini was finally persuaded to leave. It was the promise of being allowed to scamper through the snow at the side of the sidewalks that did it.
“It beats me how their bare feet don’t freeze in that snow,” said Ray, watching them leave after putting on warm jackets.
“Stop thinking of them as having bare feet,” said Carrie as she collected the empty drug canisters. “They never wear shoes so their feet are very hardy.”
Silence, apart from Ray’s keypad, reigned as she loaded up the sterilizer and turned it on.
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