by Lea Kirk
“Master Healer Dacian, Disipula Yamata,” the 3-D hologram of Administer Corvus greeted Dante and Sakura, then she turned and bowed deeply to Nick. “Brother of our esteemed Profeta, it pleases me to finally meet you.”
Nick resisted rolling his eyes. He should be used to this by now. Alex’s role in fulfilling an ancient Matiran prophecy had earned her a place of honor in Matiran society. As her younger brother, he’d found himself with the status of minor celebrity, which apparently out-weighed his status as a healer in the eyes of the new Matiran Administer. Another reason New L.A. had been preferable. If anyone there knew about this part of his life, they’d never said anything. But Corvus’s station was akin to a planetary president, and one didn’t argue with a galactic leader over titles. Not in public, at least.
“Thank you, Administer.” He returned her bow, but wasn’t about to say he was pleased to see any of them, because he wasn’t. Whatever happened here this morning, these people would be ultimately responsible for uprooting him from the quiet life he’d chosen to lead and sending him to god-knew-where to do god-knew-what for god-knew-how-long.
“Please, do sit.” Ambassador K’nil said. He reached behind himself and grasped the end of his lengthy tirik, the Anferthian ritual braid most adults wore, holding it out of the way until he’d reseated himself.
Nick glanced away so he didn’t get caught staring. The normal three-strand braids Alex wore when they were kids weren’t too difficult to understand, and French braiding he could grasp. But when his sister was in middle school she’d learned to do a four-strand braid, and that confused him. The whole fishtail braid phase…wow, yeah, he still didn’t get that one. But the Anferthian eight-strand ritual tirik...it was a wonder his head didn’t explode just thinking about it. How did they get all those strands to fold into each other so neatly? And for special occasions they’d weave in jewelry. Nick gave his head a shake. Yet another reason to be thankful he was a Terrian.
He lowered himself into the seat next to Sakura’s. Mrs. Beck handed him a plate with a blueberry muffin, then sidled out of the room, the wall reforming behind her. Sakura bit into her muffin and sighed, her expression one of bliss.
Ambassador K’nil’s grin reached his wide, black eyes. “Please help yourself to more, Disipula Yamata. Also you, Healer Bock.”
Pleasantries seemed like a colossal load of b.s., but lack of sleep might have something to do with his mood. “I’d much rather get on with this, your honor. We had a long night, and could use some sleep.”
Ambassador K’nil nodded. “As you wish.”
The chime softly announced an incoming viscomm. Ora reached over and tapped a data device on the table with the muffins. The wall behind her came to life with yet another familiar face. “K’rona?” The fearless Anferthian officer who’d risked her life and led a revolt to save Terr from her own government’s invasion.
Could all this secrecy have something to do with her group—the dissenters? If he recalled correctly, they’d been given sanctuary in an undisclosed location on Matir. After all they’d sacrificed to reverse the course of the invasion, protection was the least Terr and Matir could offer them. Every last one of the three thousand or so dissenters were marked for death by their own government. The Arruch didn’t much like traitors.
“Greetings, Nicholaus of Terr,” the dark-haired Anferthian dissenter said through her translator. An impish look flashed in her green eyes. “You appear to have had a bad encounter with a razor-horn hellion, my friend.”
An undignified snort escaped him. He’d heard about the Anferthian razor-horn hellion, a gargantuan version of Terr’s rhinoceros—and ten times more ill-tempered. “You should see the razor-horn.”
“Indeed? I look forward to hearing the tale.”
“K’rona is our liaison for the dissenters and will oversee your mission at the sanctuary,” K’nil explained.
Ah, ha. Now they were getting somewhere. “Mission? What mission?”
Administer Corvus cleared her throat. “At this moment we have a critical situation at the dissenter’s sanctuary.” The Matiran woman paused and rubbed her hand over her high, blue forehead, appearing to contemplate how best to proceed.
“Something is killing us, Nick.” K’rona’s tone didn’t hide her annoyance, or maybe it was disgust. Either way, it didn’t seem to be directed at him.
The sensation of a sinking rock settled in his gut. “Killing you? How?”
“It is a disease of some sort. We are not sure what causes it, or where it came from, but it has taken ninety-three dissenters in the last four months.”
Holy hell. Nick exchanged a glance with Dante over Sakura’s head. “Is that why you were so pissed off yesterday morning?”
Dante’s mouth tightened. “Among other things.”
Nick turned to the committee in general and spread his hands, palms upward. “Haven’t any healers been sent in?”
“No.” Ora looked as grim as Dante.
“Well, why the hell not?”
“We do not want to draw attention to their location, Healer Bock.” Corvus explained.
Sakura leaned forward in her chair. “But people are dying, Administer.”
“Sending in healers could alert the Arruch.” Corvus’s tone had turned defensive. Too bad the former administer, Navigand, had retired. He hadn’t been perfect, but at least he’d owned up to his mistakes.
“They have been quietly casting their nets searching for the dissenters and hoping the Unified Defense Fleet won’t notice,” Ora admitted.
Corvus nodded. “If they find them, a lot more people would die. We did not want another massacre on our hands. We needed an air-tight cover for any healers we sent in, and now we have one. And, two healers.”
They don’t want a massacre, so they let people die? That kind of logic might make sense to a politician, but not to him. A healer should have been sent in at the first signs of this illness. Not him, of course, but someone.
“What is this ‘air-tight cover’?” Sakura asked.
Excellent question. Nick angled an expectant look at K’nil. The Anferthian ambassador’s mouth was a grim slash, and anger flashed in his black eyes, all of it directed toward Corvus. This topic was clearly a prickly issue between them. K’nil shook his head and turned a kinder gaze on Sakura.
“You, Disipula Yamata, are due to report to the Collegium of Healers to complete your training. Your mentor, Healer Bock, will be your sponsor.”
“Wait. What?” No way had he heard that right. “Dante’s her mentor. It’s his privilege to escort her to Matir and oversee her official registration.”
“I have been called away for a family emergency, Nick,” Dante cut in. “I entrust Disipula Yamata’s training to you during my absence.”
Nick turned his head to gape at his friend. Dante was an only child whose parents had both passed away years ago. The only family he had was distant cousins, and to the best of his knowledge, Dante wasn’t particularly close to any of them.
“My wife’s great-aunt is on her death bed,” Dante said.
Nick’s world wavered and he grasped the seat of his chair to keep from falling off. “Whoa. Wait. You have a wife?” How had he missed that one? Correction, why hadn’t Dante ever told him?
Dante’s face contorted, his pained expression pierced Nick’s heart. There was a story here, and not a particularly good one, if he had to guess.
“Nick,” there was a warning note in Ora’s voice, “now’s not the time.”
Fine, but there would be a “time”, and he would get answers.
A very large, warm hand pressed down gently on his shoulder, and he lifted his gaze to meet the Anferthian ambassador’s.
“In this great universe, there are many mysteries, Nicholaus of Terr,” K’nil said kindly. “What has happened at the sanctuary cannot be undone, but there is one thing I do know. My people are dying, and I need your help to save them.”
K’ni
l’s people. K’rona’s people. Nick frowned. He was being asked go to another planet and use his Gift to heal the sick there. A Gift he’d never wanted, and detested using. But, K’rona was one of his sister’s closest friends. If anything happened to her, it would tear Alex’s heart to pieces. Despite the current strain in their relationship, she was still his sister. And just the thought of being even remotely responsible for her pain was like a gut punch.
He sat back in his chair. Continuing to argue would be a pointless waste of time. This mission seemed to have been well thought out by those who’d summoned him here. The Anferthian dissenters had given more than their fair share, now it was his turn to give back.
He glanced at Sakura and she nodded. “It would make the Arruch very unhappy,” she said.
That it would. Smart girl knew exactly what to say to seal the deal. Anything he could do to make life even a little more difficult for the Arruch party was a win. “Good point.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward and she responded with a relieved smile. It lit her face, taking away all the rigidness that had been there from the moment they’d met yesterday. Nick dug his fingers into the seat of his chair again. If nothing else knocked his ass on the floor, her smile just might.
He cleared his throat and turned back to K’nil. “I guess you’d better fill us in on the details, Ambassador.” It appeared that, like it or not, the two of them would be working together for a while. God help the universe.
~*~
Sakura fidgeted in her chair. For one heart-stopping moment it seemed like Nick might refuse to help, even though the desperate Anferthians weren’t Arruch. The deep furrows between his brows and the tense set of his jaw had scared her enough to blurt out the first words she could think of to change his mind. His smirk was lost to her when that hint of acquiescence reached his brown eyes, a silent acknowledgement that she was right. Relief had washed through her. He had come to his senses without a confrontation, and that was all that mattered.
He was a frustrating man, difficult to figure out. So sure of his zero-tolerance of the Arruch, yet he seemed fond of K’rona. And according to town gossip, before he had run away from his responsibilities he had been close with Ambassador K’nil’s grandson, Fander. Had treated the boy as much a member of his family as his nieces and nephew. Not the actions of a man riddled with hate for an entire race. So his gripe really was not with Anferthians in general, only the Arruch, as he had told her. Just what would he do if an Arruch needed his help?
She turned her attention to Magister Dacian.
“Once you are safe within the Collegium,” Magister said, “you will be assigned tem altrous—your time of service. All disipulas bear this obligation at some point in their training. Given the advanced stage of your abilities, your abrupt assignment will not be unexpected. Your guide will be dressed as a Terrian silent healer. He will find you at the Collegium and see you safely to the Anferthian sanctuary.”
Of course, it made perfect sense. Matiran healers often worked with un-Gifted Terrians. The essence of the un-Gifted could be channeled by a healer to magnify their abilities, particularly in traumatic cases that required deep access to healing energy. It was a technique that had been discovered during the occupation by Magister Dacian and Alex Bock.
“Like a secret agent or something? Wait.” Nick held up one hand. “Don’t answer that, I don’t think I want to know. I do want to make it clear how pissed off I am that this situation has gone unattended for four months. Can we get that on some sort of official record? And where are the dissenters being kept, anyway?”
It was an appalling situation, even though the reasons behind the committee’s decision made some sort of sense. Protecting the dissenters from discovery over so many months had to be trying, a terrible burden for all of them. Sakura’s gaze was drawn to K’rona’s grim viscomm image on the wall. So much time wasted, so many lives lost.
“The sanctuary is in the Southern Hemisphere of Matir,” Administrator Corvus said.
A gasp passed her lips before she could stop it. Nick’s eyes looked about ready to bulge out of his head. “You hid them in the Southern Hemisphere? It’s frickin’ freezing there.”
“Not all the time, Nicholaus,” K’rona said. “We have four months of beautiful summer weather. And a lake. Now is the best time to come for a swim, before the snows come back in about a month.”
“Sounds just lovely.” Nick’s dry tone gave the opposite meaning to his words.
Sakura met Administer Corvus’s lavender gaze. “I agree with Healer Bock. Please note my objection too.” She turned to her magister. “I left all my winter clothes in Japan with my friend, Yukiko.”
Magister’s expression softened. “Everything necessary for your stay at the sanctuary will be provided, Sakura.”
Thank goodness.
“Take only what you would need if you were staying at the Collegium,” Corvus advised. “Your transport will depart from the New Damon Beach tarmac tomorrow at the beginning of last hour.” The Matiran expression for the final hour of the day before the sun was fully below the horizon.
Sakura shifted her gaze to the vis-screen. “Please, K’rona, what are the symptoms of this disease?”
“It does not appear to be a contagion,” the Anferthian woman replied. “The pattern is too random and many of the infected have had no contact with other victims. The on set is very sudden. One moment, all is well, the next the victim collapses. Close to a quarter of those affected have suffered from tremors that escalated into full seizures. Not all have had fevers, only a few. When they are conscious, they express severe pain, but the location is not consistent from patient to patient. Sometimes it is in various organs, and other times deep in the bones. On occasion, some patients’ pain has radiated from their brains. Mercifully, they are the ones who have died the quickest. The moment of death occurs when the affected organ or bones…explode.”
Sakura balled her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms. What a horrific way to die.
“Fuck.” Nick breathed the word then shook his head. “Are there any medics among the dissenters?”
“There are some with medical knowledge scattered throughout our villages, but none formally trained. Our only fully-trained medic was among the first causalities.”
These poor people were desperate. Sakura tipped her head to one side. “How many villages?”
“Five, each with a population of approximately six hundred,” K’rona replied. “The outlying villages are within four kilots of our central village.”
A little more than two and half miles. Fairly close together. Close enough for all the flora to be the same. “Could the cause be something organic, like a spore?”
Dante shook his head. “I fear not. The dissenters lived there for over six full cycles—years—before the first symptoms appeared. Also, Anferthians have visited or lived on Matir at various times for centuries, and none have ever been afflicted with such symptoms. That said, this is your mission. Do whatever you feel is necessary to save these people, it will be approved, even as an after-action item if necessary.” His gaze swept over the other committee members’ faces with an expression daring any of them to object. No one did.
Good. The authorization not to have to wait for the committee’s approval to take action gave them more freedom. Sakura forced herself to sit back. Deep breath in, hold, expel breath, repeat. Much more of this and her shoulders would be touching her ears.
“We understand there are people to whom you will want to say farewell,” Ambassador K’nil said. “You may tell them that you are going to the Collegium, but you may not reveal your true purpose or destination. Understood?”
“Yes, your honor,” Sakura replied, and Nick nodded.
“There is nothing more important than accomplishing your mission,” Corvus added, her gaze shifting between them. “It is your sole purpose to the exclusion of all else. Is this clear?”
Sakura blinked at the wom
an. Was she suggesting that they—her and Nick—might get romantically involved?
Nick barked a laugh. “No problem, Administer. Right, Saku?”
Heat burned her cheeks, and she gave her head a harsh shake. This was the second time he had shortened her name like that. The first time he had sounded uncomfortably intimate, as if their relationship was more personal, but he had cut her off before she could correct him. This time his words carried a sarcastic undercurrent. It was disrespectful, especially in front of the committee. Her Gift may be unusually strong, but she still had worked hard to progress through her studies as quickly as she had.
All the words she wanted to reprimand him with jammed in her throat and she swallowed hard. If she said anything now she would appear just as childish as him, and she was not a child, had not been for a long time. As long as she kept her gaze on the wall just over Administer Corvus’s hologrammed shoulder, she would not be tempted to put the deserter in his place.
“You should be more worried that your healers might kill each other first.” Nick’s voice held a note of wry humor. Did he know how close she was to doing just that?
A crease of vexation formed between the ambassador’s brows, but K’rona stepped in before he could reply. “I will make sure neither of them meets an untimely end, your honor.”
“You have my gratitude, K’rona,” Ambassador K’nil took control of the conversation again. He settled his hands firmly on his knees and swept the circle with his gaze. “Is there anything more? No? Then we are adjourned.” The older Anferthian leaned forward in his chair and reached for and enveloped one of Sakura’s hands in one of his before she could evade him. He then repeated the action with Nick. “My most humble thanks to you both for caring for my people. My heart tells me our future lies with the dissenters, and to lose them now would be disastrous to all of our worlds.”
“We will do all we can to save them, your honor,” Nick replied.
Sakura met the ambassador’s wise, black-eyed gaze and her anger drained away. It did not matter why he believed in the dissenters—or even in her and Nick—only that he did. And he had pinned the future he saw on them.
