He shook his head, sitting back down in his own seat. “When this is over,” he said.
“End it now, Kezule,” she said quietly. “Let him be taken to the sick bay.”
“I can’t,” he said, rubbing his hand tiredly across his eyes. “Believe me, I can’t take him out of the booth. He’s unconscious, he won’t be aware of the tape. This punishment has to be seen through to the end. Check on the cub, Zayshul, then you can come back here and sit with me if you want.”
“Shaidan!” she exclaimed, jumping up. “I forgot about him! He knows when something is wrong with his father. They seem to be linked in some way. He was hysterical just before the alarm went off!”
“Go and see to him,” said Kezule.
M’kou was just pulling the covers over the cub, having placed him in the nearest bed.
“He’s fine,” he said hurriedly, seeing her anxious look. “I take it his father is too.”
She nodded, coming into the room. “What did he do after I left?”
M’kou stood up, a puzzled look on his face. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said.
“Try me.”
“Well, something almost invisible picked him up and shook him as he got hysterical. Not exactly invisible,” he added, “I did catch sight of a sort of shadow. Anyway, after that he sat on the floor for several minutes before falling over, apparently asleep. I’d just taken him over to the bed when you arrived.”
“His father briefly stopped breathing,” she said quietly. “They are linked somehow.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” M’kou said, sitting down on the chair so he could keep an eye on the sleeping cub while she checked on him. “We know nothing at all about Sholan children, and even less about these hybrids. And they were all programmed on how to use their abilities with a sleep tape made from the Captain’s mind.”
“Would you mind watching Shaidan?” she asked. “I want to go back to the briefing room where the General is keeping a watch on the Captain.”
“I can manage here,” said M’kou.
“What the hell was that?” Kaid asked hoarsely as he lifted his head up from the bed where he’d fallen beside Carrie.
“The gestalt,” she said, sitting up. “Did you feel him?” she asked. “Was it Kusac?”
He shook his head, reaching up to draw her back down beside him. “I’d like to say I did, but I honestly didn’t. There was a third mind, though, and it felt a lot like him ...”
“But wasn’t, I know.” She sighed. “Then who triggered it? And why such terror?”
“Doubtless we’ll find out soon,” he said, nuzzling against her neck. “The terror stopped as soon as we merged. It could have been his son, you know. It felt immature. Maybe he was just having a nightmare. Is the gestalt likely to happen again?”
“No, it uses up a great amount of energy. Don’t you feel drained? I do.”
Kaid yawned, hardly able to keep his eyes open. “Now you come to mention it,” he murmured. “You know something else? I’m not worried about Kusac anymore.”
Kij’ik Outpost, early morning, Zhal-Mellasha 22nd day (February)
“His vital signs are so low they’re hardly there,” said M’zynal as he followed Kezule into the cell. “They’ve been falling steadily since we began taking them after his punishment ended yesterday.”
“But they are there,” said Kezule, going down on one knee beside the still form lying on the floor.
“Yes,” agreed M’zynal. “Ghidd’ah looked at the readings. She said he was in a coma and we should contact you.”
The pulse was there, and though the rate was almost negligible, the beat when it came was strong. Moving slightly, he pulled back the covers and looked at the dressing. It had been changed after the punishment session, and again when they’d come to give him his evening meal. Once more it was saturated and the mess draining from it was seeping down his leg and onto the covers beneath him. He glanced toward the tray. The meal and the water were untouched. He looked back at Kusac, noting how much thinner he looked.
All the signs were there, the slow body rhythms, the comalike state, the weight loss and the advanced state of healing. He thought back to the first time he’d gone into laalgo. It had scared him almost to death as it had involved, literally, a near death experience. The trance was so deep it came within a whisper of actual death and it was easy for those new to it to slip the wrong way. He’d been lucky, there had been an experienced officer there to look after him.
He no longer had any doubt that the Sholan was in their equivalent of a laalgo trance, how, he didn’t know. Nothing he’d ever come across had suggested they were capable of this.
He got to his feet. “Disturb him as little as possible, but take him into the sick bay,” he ordered. “And tell Doctor Zayshul to meet me there.”
“Thank La’shol, you’ve changed your mind!” she exclaimed as she hurried over to the nurses’ station where he was waiting for her.
“Zayshul, stop and listen to me first,” he said, gesturing to the nurses to leave. “I’m pretty sure he’s in a deep healing trance like my children and I can go into. All his symptoms fit that. If that’s the case, he must be left to get on with it. If you disturb him, you’ll break the trance and that could be dangerous.”
“Dangerous? How?”
“When he stopped breathing, I believe that was him going into it properly. The same thing happened to me the first time. Breaking the trance can cause that to happen again.”
“But you’re a Warrior-caste Valtegan, not a Sholan. How could he be capable of doing the same thing when the only reason you can do it is because of your extra glands?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve seen for yourself how much weight he’s lost—laalgo burns up the body’s stored fats at a tremendous rate. We’ll know for sure when we see the state of his wound.”
“Kezule, I have to treat him! If nothing else we can surely give him fluids and some kind of liquid diet to fuel the healing process.”
“Fluids, yes, not food. Doing that would be too invasive. His system should awaken him if his reserves are getting too low. You’ll need to position him so you can dress the wound without disturbing him.”
“We can use pillows to prop him up, and loose dressings.” He nodded and got up. “Then let’s see what state his wound is in.”
“I don’t believe it,” she said, looking up at Kezule. “It’s healing at more than twice the normal rate at least!”
“It’ll heal even faster yet,” murmured Kezule.
“If I leave it like this, he’ll scar, quite badly. I need to clean it out and cut the rest of the dead tissue away, then we can leave it to drain on its own.”
“Zayshul, everything you do to him increases the risks,” he sighed.
“I understand that, but we’re talking dead tissue here, Kezule, with no feeling in it. If I take out what I can without touching the living tissue ... ?”
“Just clean it out, no more,” he said, getting up. “I won’t be responsible for harming him, and neither should you.”
“What about his crew? Are you still keeping them in their quarters?”
“They’re being allowed in their lounge during the day now,” he said. “I still have to decide what to do about them, and Kusac.”
Kezule’s communicator beeped and he excused himself, glad to be leaving the sick bay and questions he couldn’t yet answer.
“General, there’s an incoming message to the N’zishok being relayed to the bridge that you must hear,” said Zhalmo.
“From the N’zishok? Who is it?” he demanded.
“Zhookoh. He’s got bad news from the Prime world.”
“On my way,” he said.
Kezule listened in silence as his son told him about the coup on K’oish’ik. “How many of you escaped?” he asked quietly.
“There are twenty of us here, and we think maybe five or six in the City. Khayikule’s call was very brief because they were under fire
,” said Zhookoh from the bridge of the Mazzu.
“Any idea who led the coup?”
“We’ve been monitoring their transmissions and intercepted a message intended for Shola. It’s K’hedduk, sir. He’s assumed the Throne of Light and declared himself Emperor after marrying the Empress.”
“Zhalmo will send you the coordinates for here. Make sure you can’t be traced.” He hesitated. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said awkwardly.
“Thank you, sir, so are we. We only have four of our sisters with us, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll see you in a few days.”
He sat there, staring at the now blank screen, until Zhalmo drew his attention back.
“Sir, how many survived?” she asked.
“Twenty, and maybe four or five in the City,” he said. “Emperor K’hedduk rules now.”
“K’hedduk?”
He nodded, getting up from his command chair. “Yes, K’hedduk from the Directorate. Seems he escaped after all.” Fifty dead—that was half his offspring! His hands clenched at his sides as he walked toward the exit. He stopped to look at his bridge crew. “K’hedduk will not get away with this, I promise you,” he said. “Say nothing about this, I’ll announce the news this evening at an assembly. Your surviving brothers and sisters will be joining us in a few days.”
He’d no love for the Prime world, nor any feelings of loyalty toward it, but no one could afford to leave K’hedduk on the throne! He’d have the females in harems already, and be sending word to M’zull of his coup, inviting them to ally themselves with him. The last thing Kezule wanted to see now was the return of the old days.
They all looked up as the main lounge door opened. M’kou, flanked by Q’almo and M’zynal, came in.
Banner glanced over at them but said nothing, waiting to see what they wanted.
“Lieutenant, we’d like you to accompany us to the sick bay to see your Captain,” M’kou said. “There’s no need for concern,” he added, “we just want you to see him for yourself.”
“Where’s his son, M’kou. He should be with us,” said Banner, getting up. “You’ve no right to be keeping him from us.”
“Shaidan is with his father now,” said M’kou, gesturing toward the door. “You’ll see him, too.”
“We want him brought back here to live with us,” Dzaou called out.
“That’s enough, Dzaou,” said Banner warningly as he went to join M’kou.
“Someone’s got to call it like it is,” he persisted.
He was glad when the door closed behind them. “No restraints?” he asked as the guards fell in just behind him.
“None,” confirmed the young Prime, glancing at him as they turned right, heading for the main port to starboard corridor. “You’re not stupid, Lieutenant. You won’t try to escape. All you want is to leave here safely with your Captain and his son, nothing more.”
“What do you want, M’kou?” he asked on a whim as they stepped into the air lock junction. He pointed to the sling the Prime was wearing. “You were shot by Kusac.”
“I know it was an accident, and the security tapes confirm it. As to what I want,” he said, a closed look coming over his face. “What most people want, Lieutenant, a long, trouble-free life, and a family, since I’ve already found a mate.”
“And Kezule?”
“Peace,” M’kou said shortly.
Kusac was in a single room opposite the entrance to the sick bay. Banner glanced round the room first, taking in Doctor Zayshul in the chair by the door, and Shaidan, curled up in the easy chair beside his father’s bed. Then he looked at Kusac.
He lay on his back, the bed angled so his head and his lower legs were raised. A sheet, held clear of his hips, covered him. Shaidan glanced up at him briefly as he entered, and behind him he heard the Doctor getting to her feet.
“Kusac,” he said, moving to the end of the bed.
“He can’t hear you, Lieutenant, he’s unconscious,” said Zayshul quietly.
Banner nodded, walking down the other side of the bed from the cub.
“Hello, Shaidan,” he said, looking over at him.
The cub flicked an ear but said nothing as he settled his chin more comfortably on his folded arms.
Banner looked at the display panel above Kusac’s head before leaning over him.
“How long has he been unconscious?” he asked, reaching out to press his hand against Kusac’s neck.
“Since we brought him here yesterday, after ...” She left the rest of the sentence hanging. “Nearly a day.”
He nodded, understanding there were certain things neither of them wanted to mention in front of the cub. Unbelievably, Kusac’s pulse was as slow as the readings on the screen indicated. He stood up again, looking expectantly at Shaidan, then at Zayshul, and nodding toward the door.
“Shaidan, would you mind leaving us alone for ten minutes, please?” she said, going over to the cub and putting her hand on his shoulder. “The Lieutenant and I need to talk. Ghidd’ah is outside, she’ll take you down to the mess to get something nice to eat.”
The cub sat up, looking from her to Banner then back. “If he wakes up, you’ll call me?” he asked, climbing down from the chair.
“I promise,” she said. “Ghidd’ah will tell you immediately.”
Tail hanging limply, he trotted out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“He shouldn’t be here,” said Banner. He was surprised Kezule had allowed him to leave the Command level at all.
“Perhaps, but he wants to be with his father. Don’t worry, I won’t allow him to stay here for too long.”
“Why’s he unconscious?” he demanded, moving round to the other side of the bed where Kusac’s wounded leg was. “What happened to him in your damned punishment booth?”
“We think he’s in a trance of some kind,” she said. “A healing trance. We watched him lower his pulse to the rate it is now. Do your people do such a thing?”
“Trances, yes, but not specific healing ones.” It was possible, he supposed.
“The Warrior caste do this when they’re badly injured,” she said. “They go into a comalike state and trigger glands in certain organs to promote rapid healing.”
“Well, we don’t,” he said. “There’s no reason for him to go into this kind of state except possibly to slow down fluid loss. But you’ve got him on a drip.” He gestured to the fluid pack in the rack behind the bed. “Kezule said three hours of that booth could cause death or insanity—what happened to him? You do realize that he knew the Leska couple in that tape, don’t you?”
“What? How could he?” she asked, obviously taken aback.
“Didn’t you see the tape? You met them on the Kz’adul. Rezac and Zashou.”
She clutched the end of the bed, looking very pale for a moment or two before making an obvious effort to pull herself together. “If you wanted a reason for him to have gone into a trance, that’s it,” she said. “In that state, the tape wouldn’t affect him.”
Her logic was unarguable, he had to admit. “Apart from fluids, what treatment is he getting?” he asked, changing the subject.
“None. With him like this, we thought it best to let him heal naturally. The dead tissue has been cleaned away from the wound, but he is healing remarkably fast, which is why we wondered if telepaths had a special healing trance they could go into.”
“As I said, not that I know of.” He wondered how much Kusac had kept to himself. “He might have,” he admitted reluctantly. “I didn’t know he had his telepathic talent back. He should be on anti-infection agents, Doctor.”
“Let me be frank, Lieutenant,” she began.
“It would be a good start,” he said dryly.
She flushed a deeper green but continued. “Kezule put him in the punishment booth when he did to be sure he was unconscious while the tape played. As you well know, his low blood pressure alone would ensure that. We don’t know how or why, but Kusac’s current condition exactly matches
that of a Valtegan Warrior in a laalgo trance—a healing trance. His pulse, everything, is the same. If that’s the case, we daren’t interfere with it because it can be fatal to do so.”
“He’s Sholan, not Valtegan,” said Banner coldly.
She flushed again, even darker this time, and looked away from him, moving back to her chair by the door. “When Kusac came up to the hydroponics level and demanded to leave, you must have heard him mention a scent marker.”
“Yes, I intended to ask you about that at some point,” he said, sitting down in the easy chair.
He listened while she explained how Kusac had been scent-marked and that it had altered him in ways they couldn’t gauge because no tests existed that could detect the changes.
“You’re a doctor and you knowingly marked him like that?” He couldn’t believe that anyone in her profession would be so careless of the consequences of such an action.
“I told you, I have no memory of doing it,” she said.
“And that’s why Kezule organized sending that female to his room: to put her marker on him, then remove it completely, in the hope it would remove yours.”
“Yes.”
“And did it?”
“No,” she said, looking away. “She put hers there, but Dzaou disturbed them before she could remove it. Only ...”
“What?”
She looked up. “It didn’t work. My marker is still there, and hers is not.”
“Let me get this straight. He’s absorbed something from your genetic makeup into his, and it’s still there, like a drug that he’s addicted to. That’s what made him ill on the way back from Ch’almuth.”
“Yes. It could have changed him in other ways, enabling him to go into a healing trance.”
“You’re not a Warrior, Doctor,” he said cuttingly.
“No, but I carry the Warrior glands in me and can breed Warriors. It’s a female thing, Kezule said.”
A sudden thought hit him, making his stomach clench in fear.
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