Mason looked appalled. “You can smell that?”
“Yes, and you’d be wise to remember it.”
“Or you’ll deal with me.” For the first time since the couple arrived, Roark smiled. If he couldn’t wring Ahnyis’s neck, Mason’s would do.
“Stop it. You’re worse than Vochem and you know better.” She waved her hand, shooing Roark in the direction of the bedroom. “Take those to Mira and tell her to get dressed. She needs to hear this, too. I’ll make us some cavik.”
“Mira prefers coffee. The machine is there.”
Mason leaned to the side to look past Roark. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he said indignantly.
Once again wearing a bed sheet like a toga, Mira entered the room. She didn’t look or sound nearly as friendly as Roark expected her to be.
“Serves you right. You told me I couldn’t trust you. People I don’t trust don’t get cookies. Or coffee.”
Mason spread his hands and looked to the ceiling. “This is what I get for trying to play the hero.” He shrugged. “I was trying to save you if things turned shitty. I thought if anyone should test the waters, it should be me. I had nothing to lose.”
“Nothing?” Anyis sniffed. “Hmph, I’m glad you think so much of me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
While the two bickered, Roark took the opportunity to turn Mira around. He gave her a gentle shove toward the bedroom door.
“Puts some clothes on. You’re indecent.”
The woman laughed at him. “Not easy to do when I don’t have any and I’m not indecent. This,” she plucked at the sheet, “covers more than my dress did.”
“The dress was for me.”
“Actually, it was...”
“For me.” Roark handed her the clothing and shut the door.
He’d barely turned around before the door was opened and she was coming back through it, tugging her sweatshirt into place. Roark glanced behind him to make sure their two visitors were not in position to see the heavy cloth slide over Mira’s unbound breasts.
Ahnyis, safely in the kitchen with Mason at her side, wasted no time.
“David is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances,” she told Mira. “The wound was deep, but Mason assures me nothing vital was damaged. We left him about two hours ago when Harm stopped by for a visit.”
She nodded at Mira’s thanks and held up a file. “It was Dr. Mason’s idea to keep my research out of the computer system. You never know who might be tapping into it.” She handed the first file to Roark.
“Vochem started it,” she told them. “As you already know, after meeting Mira he began to suspect that rations were being diverted. We now know that wasn’t the cause of her condition, but his suspicions were correct. The amount requisitioned from the quartermaster doesn’t equal the amount being distributed.”
Roark took the first folder from her and began reading through the contents. He frowned.
The missing supplies were more than likely being sold on the black market. It wasn’t the first time someone had tried selling military goods for their own personal gain. It was also something Roark wouldn’t tolerate under his command.
“There are shortages everywhere, Roark. Since Vochem’s priorities are centered on the medical care of the troops, he asked me to gather the data on rationing. I’ve been going crazy trying to locate equipment and supplies for the local clinic, so I asked Mason to do it.”
“Since my only priority lately has been pushing a broom,” Mason added sourly.
“And teaching yourself to read Godan.” Ahnyis sounded like a mother proud of her child’s school performance. “So he’s the one who found the discrepancies in the rationing. I found others while I was trying to locate basic supplies for the clinic that were marked as surplus. Vochem’s found even more missing. You know those unopened crates of hospital equipment that are stored in the warehouse? Some of them are empty. He’s missing two Replicators and a couple of Knitters,” she said, “and some pretty high-tech neural generators.”
“You can find food on the street, especially the protein powders and the dried meat that can be reconstituted,” Mira chimed in. “I always thought people traded what they were given for other things they need, but maybe I was wrong. Basic home medical stuff is out there, too; bandages, antiseptics, pain killers, that kind of thing, but who would you sell those machines to? Who’d know how to use them?”
“Exactly what I said,” Mason agreed.
This time, it was Mira who answered the knocking at the door. Vochem walked through followed by Harm.
“Theories?” Roark asked.
“Several,” was Vochem’s greeting. “How far have you gotten?” he asked his sister.
Ahnyis looked at her list. “Mira, David, rations.”
“There are discrepancies in fuel consumption, too,” Harm added. “You’ve heard the fighter pilots’ complaints about flight time. I have reports that troop morale has risen now that enough med-units show up when they’re needed, and troop carriers aren’t dangerously overloaded. There’s more, but you get the gist. Seems previous complaints were ignored. Logs show our air time has tripled, but our fuel consumption hasn’t. Vehicle maintenance times should have increased, too. It hasn’t.”
Ahnyis shuffled through her folders and drew one out. “You’re out of order,” she huffed as she slapped the folder in front of Roark. “What’s the point of having an agenda if we’re not going to follow it?”
“She gets cranky when she doesn’t get enough sleep,” Mason explained and then hurriedly added, “At least that’s what she told me,” when he saw the other men’s eyes narrow.
“I’m organized, not cranky,” she snapped at Mason. “And I never told you that because I don’t get cranky.” She wadded up the paper on which she’d written her agenda. “Fine, don’t follow it, but the next time you call a meeting, don’t ask me to play secretary.” She waggled her finger at Harm. “Go ahead, finish what you started,” she ordered, “You need to explain it for those of us who have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harm choked out. He did it without cracking a smile, but his tongue rolled against his cheek and he had to swallow twice before he continued. “It means fuel and maintenance are being used for unrecorded flights. There’s no way to tell if those flights are off-world or on without requesting individual vehicle maintenance records. I held off on that...” Harm’s explanation went on.
Roark’s head was reeling with the enormity of the deceptions occurring in Sector Three.
“You’re also missing four bio-engineers and close to a hundred dead soldiers.”
“What?” Roark couldn’t have heard Vochem’s words correctly.
“I don’t care about flight time or rations or engineers or maintenance,” Mira complained loudly and sounded on the verge of anger or tears, Roark wasn’t sure which. “I’m sorry about those soldiers, but they’re dead, and unless you’re going to tell me those missing children are dead, too, they should come first. They’re more important than any of this.”
“What?” Roark said again. He held up his hand to Mira, insisting on silence. “Vochem, repeat what you just said.”
“Close to a hundred is what I have so far,” Vochem repeated. “The casualty rate has been high in this sector and I wanted data to verify my contentions with morbidity statistics. Equipment and personnel needs are calculated on troop numbers and the severity of the conflict. The warehoused equipment should have been in use. Patient’s died while awaiting their turn. Surgeons were overwhelmed with procedures that should have been taken care of elsewhere.”
The Head Healer lifted the mug Ahnyis had handed him when he first sat down. “Is there anything stronger than cavik?” he asked her.
“How would I know? I don’t live here. If I did, we wouldn’t be standing around the counter. I’d have more than two chairs.” Ahnyis glared at Mira as if was her fault.
“For someone who doesn’t live here, you sure know your way around,” Mason quipped.
“The First Commander left me alone. After the bed was made I had nothing to do except snoop. The man has a jar of squiggly things in the refrigerator that I’m not touching, and a cabinet full of liquor. That’s the highlight of our tour, ladies and gentlemen, unless you want to know what he keeps in his underwear drawer.”
“Mira,” Roark warned.
“Roark,” she mimicked. She made her face as stony as his and said stubbornly, “I want to know about the children.”
Vochem poured himself a drink from a blue stoneware bottle he pulled from the cupboard. He drank it down before offering to pour for the others. He nodded at Mira.
“Maybe we should cover that first.”
“No.” Roark’s answer was firm and decisive. His eyes locked on Mira’s. “The children are important on a number of levels. I’m aware of that. Other things are important, as well, more important, perhaps. I’ve made my decision and my decision stands.”
“First,” Harm’s voice held a warning, too, and since he used Roark’s title and not the name, everyone looked up. His glance between the two women was significant. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving the boy alone for too long. Why don’t I take Mira over to the clinic to check in on her brother? It wouldn’t hurt if Ahnyis’s came, too. That wound was deep, and it’s still oozing.”
Mira answered before Roark could take a breath. “Fine. At least I’d get to see that one of my kids is safe.”
“All your children are safe, Mira,” Roark said tiredly. “And I promise you we’ll find the others.”
Mira marched over to where she’d left her shoes. Shoving her feet into them, she turned on Roark.
“No, all my children are not safe, First Commander, not when Godan soldiers are still hunting them in the street.” She pointed to the door. “And those other kids out there? They’re mine, too. Their only difference is that Wynne didn’t find them in time.”
“Mira,” he said again. “I’m asking that you trust me in this.”
She stared at him for a moment and then bobbed her head. “It isn’t a matter of trust. It’s a matter of priorities and in this case, yours are different than mine. Since I have no say in the matter, I’ll have to trust that you know what you’re doing. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Chapter 20
Mira felt like a prisoner, and said so as she marched across the compound with Ahnyis at her side. Harm marched a dozen steps ahead of them. Two soldiers marched a dozen steps behind.
“Welcome to my life,” Ahnyis whispered and at Mira’s questioning look explained. “Haven’t you noticed that I don’t go anywhere alone? I always have an escort. Haven’t you ever noticed the warrior who stands outside the door while we have lunch? I’m a helpless female, or haven’t you noticed that, either. That’s one of the big things the Katarans and the Godan have in common. They call it protection. I call it something else and it’s not very nice,” she added primly.
“They leave you alone with Mason,” Mira reasoned. She knew Roark and Vochem didn’t like it, but they did it.
Ahnyis rolled her eyes. “Hardly ever. Anyway, they know I wouldn’t do anything with Mason, the big flirt. I’m a good Kataran girl. I’m saving myself for my good Kataran husband.”
Mira sputtered a laugh. “Ahnyis, you’ve all but admitted you two are...um...connected.”
“Having sex, you mean. You can say the word. I’m a healer after all.” She waved her hand and giggled. “They know I’m just yanking their tails.”
“Chains, Mira corrected the idiom. “It’s yanking their chains.”
“Not if you’re a Kataran.” The healer dug her elbow into Mira’s side and when Mira looked down, Ahnyis winked. “A sexual relationship with an alien being would be too adventurous for a girl like me. It’s against our Kataran nature. We’d rather curl up by a cozy homeworld hearth, secure in the love of a matrimonial union arranged by our mothers.”
Mira didn’t believe it for a minute, and she was surprised Roark and Vochem did.
A group of soldiers passed. They marched in a perfectly aligned formation, heads turning as one in recognition of the Prime. At their head was a woman.
“What about her?” Mira asked. “How does she or the other female troops get by without protection?”
“Oh, them. They’re Amazonians,” Ahnyis said as if that explained it.
Holy crap! Mira shook her head in disbelief. Myth just met reality. Again. Her list of commonalities between human and alien was growing by the day.
“What did you call them?” she asked just to be sure.
“Amazonians. They don’t need protection. The gods laugh at the man who tries to touch them. Since they discovered artificial insemination, they have no use for men at all. The only reason that they’re here is because the Confederation treaty requires it.”
“There used to be a television show called the Twilight Zone. I think I’m living in it,” Mira said, turning to get a better look at the marching woman. “Either that, or you guys have been here before.”
“I don’t understand your reference, but I do know the Katarans haven’t been here before. As I said, we’re not an adventurous race. The Godans, however, have been exploring for thousands of years. There’s no telling where they’ve been.”
They were almost to the clinic when Ahnyis stopped. The two guards behind them maintained their distance and stopped, too. Harm walked another few feet before looking back to see what the holdup was.
“Aren’t you going to ask about the children?” Ahnyis asked.
Mira had thought about it. “After what Roark said, I didn’t think you’d answer.”
Ahnyis resumed walking. “The First Commander said he wasn’t going to talk about it. He didn’t say anything about me.” She grabbed Mira’s hand and swung it between them like school children enjoying a stroll. “You really need to learn how the game is played, Mira.”
Harm missed a step when he coughed.
“I don’t want to know about games, Ahnyis. I want to know what happened to those children.”
“I don’t know, but I know that they’re alive, or at least some of them are. Their medical reports all read the same; found abandoned and starving. That isn’t unusual, but there are no individual notations and there should be with that large a number. Clothing has been shipped, bedding, food, that sort of thing, but classroom equipment is still crated in the warehouse. Schools for the abandoned are always staffed with locals and half the teachers should be local, too. There are no teachers, not ours or yours.
“Your registration papers clearly mark you as a teacher of languages. You would have been one of the first to be contacted and offered employment. That’s how my search began. I wondered why you weren’t.” Ahnyis smiled. “I thought you might have some awful secret in your background, or maybe you weren’t who you said you were. Roark seemed awfully taken with you, so I thought I’d better check.”
“The little healer protecting the big bad First Commander, huh?” Mira thought it was sweet and a little amusing. While the men thought they were looking out for Ahnyis, she was looking out for them.
“He’d be angry if he knew it.” Ahnyis giggled and then sobered. “You wouldn’t tell him, would you?”
“Of course not, Ahnyis. We girls have to stick together.” Mira returned Ahnyis’s elbow dig and wink.
“All the paperwork for the school has been filed,” Ahnyis went on, “but everything they contain is false.”
“Shipping reports lead us to believe they’re at Outpost Three,” Harm said as he held the door for them
, and proving that he’d been listening in on their entire conversation. “There is no Outpost Three. We’re going to have to cross reference mileage and fuel consumption on individual transport vehicles to see if we can define a distance radius around the base to begin the search.”
He was looking down at Mira when the Ahnyis screamed.
“Stop!”
Two Godan warriors in full armor ran down the hall in the opposite direction and exited through a door at the end. A guard, weapon useless at his side, lay dead on the floor in front of them.
Mira’s stomach sank when Harm ran to the open door along the hall rather than chase the culprits. It sank further when she heard him utter the Godan word for fuck.
The two soldiers following them pushed past her, followed by Ahnyis whose high pitched screech echoed in the hall.
“No!”
For a few seconds that felt like whole minutes, Mira couldn’t move. Harm’s shouts, Ahnyis’s calls for help, the two soldiers running in pursuit, none of it made an impression on her mind. All she understood was that Davey was behind that door; Davey, who Roark promised would be safe.
Her feet began to move as she steeled herself for what she would find and her mind began to work again, planning how best to tell Wynne that their brother was gone.
~*~
“You guys aren’t really talking zombies, are you?” Mason laughed and hunched his shoulders. Hands clawlike, he spread his arms in mimicry of the horror movie creatures.
“Shit.” Roark had forgotten the human was there, hiding as he was in the corner by the coffee machine.
“Shit,” Vochem echoed as he turned around to stare his sister’s pet project.
“No shit.” Mason put his coffee down and reached for the blue bottle Vochem had poured from. He didn’t bother with a glass, but gulped a mouthful, winced as the fiery liquid went down, and shook his head.
“Shit,” he said again, though this time it came out in a long raspy breath.
Vochem took his translator from his pocket and held it up to his mouth. “Zombie,” he said, looking hopeful. The light in his eyes continued when he looked up and smiled.
Roark (Women Of Earth Book 1) Page 19
