by Valerie Parv
Elaine plunged into his arms and he caught her before she bounced off the walls of the module. She was laughing and crying at the same time, the zero gravity making the tears clump around her eyes. She shook her head and the moisture floated away. Garrett couldn’t be sure he wasn’t welling up, too – his vision was becoming suspiciously blurry.
When they were back on the mid-deck with the shuttle sealed, he let Chenard and Timo know it was safe to disconnect from the docking module. They would leave that linked to the Kelek ship as they got the hell out of this space.
With only basic first-aid training, Garrett couldn’t do more than check Elaine over for serious injuries, relieved when he found none. She’d have bruises from her rough passage through the module, but she was here and alive. Garrett saw the hungry looks Timo was giving her, and gestured to the other man to take over her care.
Timo did so with an alacrity that spoke volumes about their relationship. Garrett empathized with the diplomat’s pain as it became obvious that Elaine didn’t remember him. Did she even know she was pregnant? Garrett knew a sudden flash of worry for the couple’s child, but could do nothing until they were back on the ground where Timo’s doctor, Bill Astor, would meet them when they landed.
From the pilot’s seat, Chenard suddenly bristled. “Someone else is coming through the docking module.”
“Get us away,” Timo ordered.
Elaine’s head came up. “No, wait, it’s Kam.”
“Are you sure?” Garrett asked.
“He helped me to escape. Please.” Elaine’s lovely eyes brimmed again.
Garrett jerked his head at the pilot. “Against my better judgment, let him on board.”
Moments later he was back at the docking module, dragging a battered and heavy-breathing adept out of the lock. Garrett closed the access manually. “Get us out of here now,” he radioed to Chenard at the helm.
“We nearly left you floating in vacuum,” he told the adept. A head taller than Garrett, and rail thin, the man looked as if he’d been run over by a truck.
“Thank you,” he managed to gasp.
“You can thank Elaine, not me,” Garrett insisted, letting his tone convey his contempt.
The adept gave him a long look. “You’re the beacon, the listener.”
“And you’re the charmer who led your crew here and tried to blow us away with your weather weapons.”
“Not me, the captain,” Kam insisted.
“Semantics.” Garrett jerked a thumb in the direction of the flight deck. “Up there where we can keep an eye on you.”
The adept floated ahead of Garrett. Elaine looked relieved to see him, more than she had her lover. “I’m glad you’re okay, Kam. Why did you follow me?”
Grabbing a handhold, Kam anchored himself against a bulkhead. “I have betrayed my oaths. There is no future for me on Captain Zael’s ship.”
Garrett let his grim expression show that Kam’s future among humans was no more certain. He turned to Chenard. “Any sign of Zael’s cruiser?”
“There’s something on the long-range.”
“Has to be her.” To Kam, Garrett said, “Can she keep track of you the way you do us?”
“Only with instrumentation. She’s not an adept.”
Thanking God for small mercies, Garrett strapped first Elaine then Kam into seats. A glum-looking Timo volunteered to go to the mid-deck and strap in. With Captain Zael closing on them, they would have to push the shuttle to its limits to escape.
Chapter 25
Akia Zael felt the burn of anger start to build as she took in the docking module dangling from the underside of her ship. The free end of the tube moved around like a giant eel sticking its head out of its burrow.
“So much for their truce,” she snapped to the guard who served as co-pilot. The ten-hour vigil had taken a toll: the mix of grief, anger and exhaustion turning her mood murderous.
“The Earthers kept the truce until we were clear of the planet, as agreed,” the guard pointed out.
“Taking the wrong side is a poor career move,” she said, aiming a vicious look at him. Technically he was right, but she wasn’t interested in right. The docking module told its own story. Somehow, despite her destroying their space center, the Earthers had reached Storm.
Her fingers stabbed controls until Gath’s voice responded. “What’s the status of the beacon woman?” she demanded, although she already knew the answer.
“She’s gone.” Her First sounded like a man speaking his last words. As well he might be. “And captain …”
“Speak.”
“Kam went with her.”
Another emotion swamped her. Betrayal. Kam had been her lover, her guide, her confidante. “Was he coerced?”
“No, captain. He told us you’d ordered a drill, an evacuation of the control center.”
“I left no such order.” The gravel in her voice almost choked her.
“We know that now. It was a ruse to help the beacon escape.”
As, no doubt, was the offer to let her retrieve her son’s body. What a fool she was, thinking the humans honorable enough to let her sit OnsThenn for him without penalty. Love always came at a price, she thought, feeling flames blaze behind her eyes. Even love for a son.
And love for a man like Kam.
“Blast that Earther contraption off my ship,” she snarled. She backed her cruiser away while the guard complied, then slammed the vessel through the resulting gash. Before she’d settled the craft on the deck, an energy field closed the wound in her ship’s belly.
She barked out orders to the guards to take care of her son’s body. When this was over he would be given a soldier’s burial in space, his capsule fired into a sun in the tradition of Kelek spacefarers for centuries.
As soon as the hangar deck was pressurized, she headed for her laboratory, vengeance filling her mind. Not the sanest emotion from which to command, but she held onto the feeling for now, needing the bitter fuel. Letting go of her rage might mean being unable to function at all.
Expecting her to come straight to the control center, her First would be quaking with fear. Let him. By following Kam’s spurious orders, they’d both betrayed her. As far as she was concerned, Gath could rot until she was ready to decide his fate. With luck, he’d turn his ceremonial dagger on himself, saving her the trouble.
More grief awaited her in her lab. Surveying the liquid-soaked boards, she stoked her fury until she felt ready to burst into flames. The damage was the work of the beacon, she knew. Somehow the woman had swayed Kam to her side.
Akia had always known he was too soft for his own good, although that didn’t excuse what he’d done. She slid into her chair at the work center but ignored the screens and controls. Closing her eyes, she activated her implant.
*
On board Arrafin, Garrett allowed himself a moment to draw breath. They’d seen the captain’s cruiser approach her ship and blast the remains of the docking module, but she’d been angled away and not looking for them. He’d winced as she’d rammed her craft through the gaping hole, which appeared to be closed by a forcefield once she was inside.
“Time we headed home,” he said to Lyle Chenard, then turned to Elaine. “You okay?” he asked gently.
She nodded but her pale features gave her away. “Thank you for what you did to save me. I’ll be all right.”
Once she remembered everything, he interpreted. Perhaps being back on Earth would help to restore her memory.
What they were to do about the adept, Garrett didn’t know. Kam already looked as if he regretted his impulse to join them. Maybe he could help them locate Adam, although Garrett wouldn’t put money on that. He might have helped Elaine in a rush of conscience, but he was still an enemy alien.
Suddenly there was a groan from the adept. Twisting around as far as his harness allowed, Garrett was shocked to see the man’s face turn bone white.
“What is it?”
The adept’s head thrashed from sid
e to side against the headrest. “No, no.”
“Something’s wrong with him. Help him!” Elaine cried.
The adept’s hands went white as his long fingers dug into the seat arms.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Elaine said.
Kam didn’t seem to hear her as he pressed down in the seat, every line in his body telegraphing bone-cracking tension. “Akia, no,” he rasped.
Garrett was at a loss. “You said she can’t track you the way you can track beacons.”
“She has her own ways.” The adept’s words were pulled from him like a man under torture.
Garrett knew only too well how that felt. “What is she doing to you?”
The adept forced his eyes open, the panic in them plain. “An implant. Can. Kill.”
Kam didn’t look like a man under attack. His grimace spoke almost of … pleasure.
“I should have known she … wouldn’t … let me … go.” The last words were barely audible before the adept slumped in his seat.
So much for pleasure. Although an excess of anything could kill, Garrett reflected. “Check for a pulse,” he told Elaine, his heart pounding. He couldn’t reach the adept to find out for himself, but instinct told him Kam was gone.
Horror in her expression, she complied, leaning across the seats to grasp Kam’s wrist. After a moment, she looked at Garrett and shook her head, her expression collapsing.
“It’s my fault. If he hadn’t tried to help me—”
“He did what he chose to do. You have no reason to blame yourself.”
She did, though, he saw in her glassy-eyed look. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t the Elaine he knew. Yet even without memories, the depth of her pain was reflected in her eyes. He wanted to hold her tightly enough to banish that hideous mix of guilt and sorrow.
That was Timo’s job now, Garrett made himself remember. All right, as her friend, then. “You didn’t kill him,” he ground out. “He mentioned an implant, something the Kelek captain used to stop his heart or his brain.” They had to hope the weapon, whatever it was, couldn’t be used against humans, but he kept that fear to himself.
Garrett felt his throat knot. Elaine was looking at him like the stranger he was to her for now. He couldn’t dredge up a single word of comfort. “I’m sorry,” was the best he could do.
She glanced at the adept then quickly back to Garrett. “This isn’t your fault, either. The captain would probably have killed him on the ship, for letting me get away.”
Garrett found himself nodding. “She doesn’t look like the forgiving type. There’s a blanket behind you.”
She understood instantly that he wasn’t worried about warmth. Every movement stiff with pain, she retrieved the covering and draped it over Kam, the seat straps preventing the cover from floating. To Garrett, the covered body felt like an accusation.
“He loved her,” she said.
“If this is their idea of love, I’m glad not to be a Kelek.”
“She’ll want revenge on us, too. Blame us for taking him from her.”
“You don’t have to think about that. The government of Carramer is behind us. Hundreds of people helped us get this shuttle into space. Shana will do whatever it takes to protect her people.”
“Shana?” Elaine’s face screwed up as she tried to place the name.
“The governor of Atai and a good friend,” he explained, the extent of Elaine’s trauma weighing on him. He had no reason to blame himself, either. He only knew he did. “How much do you remember?”
“Standing beside a car, a limousine I think. Being caught in what Kam described as a cargo net. I could feel it but not see it or get out of it as it took me up to their ship. There wasn’t enough oxygen.” Automatically her hand went to her throat.
“That’s what caused your memory loss?”
She gave a slight nod. “So the medic told me. She said my baby wasn’t harmed.”
So Elaine knew she was pregnant. “Do you know that Timo is the father?”
Shock coiled around her features. “I didn’t know. He’s … he feels like a stranger to me.”
Garrett gave in to a slight smile. “He’s far from a stranger.”
“Are we married?”
“In every way that counts.”
He saw her focus her alien gaze inwards, seeking out Timo on the mid-deck, he assumed.
“Anything?” he asked.
She shook her head and pawed at the straps holding her in the seat. “Can I go to him?’
“If you want. He’ll help you strap in before we land, which won’t be long.”
“Thank you.”
His gaze followed her as she left the flight deck. He wasn’t jealous of Timo, more of what they had. He hoped to God she would regain her memory sufficiently to have that again.
Unbidden, Amelia Takei popped into his mind. She was doing that a lot lately. Before he could wrap his brain around the reason, Chenard warned them to prepare for re-entry.
Having flown with the pilot before, Garrett knew he considered the final approach to be the easiest part of the mission. At least they knew Akia Zael wouldn’t be on their tails. Yet.
Thinking of what she had done to the adept from a considerable distance, Garrett’s nerves stretched to breaking point. He resisted. The implant Kam had spoken of was quite a weapon. But there was no way to find out more unless and until the Kelek captain used it again. One thing he’d learned as a boy taking care of his alcoholic father, was to worry only about what could be changed. Right now that meant getting them back to Earth in one piece, a feat as likely to kill them as anything Zael could do.
At least this time, his eyes weren’t damaged and he could see to play his part. Lyle Chenard gave him a sidelong glance of support as he aimed them for the newly-cleared runway at Black Tree. Thirteen kilometers out, they would be effectively gliding to a landing in a vehicle that happened to have a pretty poor glide ratio. They needed to get the shuttle’s descent profile absolutely right as they slowed to about two hundred and fifty knots.
Chenard raised the nose as the lights along the runaway began to turn red. Garrett waited for the slight groan as the landing gear lowered, mentally ticking off another risk factor they’d just beaten. He could see the lights now. Two were red and two white. Any more reds and they were coming in too low, more whites, they were too high.
The right numbers appeared and they touched down nose-high. Chenard hit the brakes and the shuttle’s screaming progress started to slow. It still looked to Garrett as if they’d be out of runway before reaching wheel stop, but experience told him they had plenty of room left.
The flier’s maxim came to him: Any landing you walk away from is a good landing. They would walk away from this one, and they had Elaine.
Garrett looked over his shoulder at the covered shape behind the pilot. One man had died, and he was from the wrong side. No reason to mourn his loss. Yet Garrett did. The adept had died saving Elaine. They’d probably never know why.
*
Akia Zael felt the moment when Kam died, and regret flooded her so completely that a raw sob broke from her.
The choice had been hers. No reason for regrets. But he had loved her and cared for her in his own, unique way. With the body of her son cold in the hanger deck, and now Kam gone, she felt more alone than she’d ever done.
Kam’s betrayal weighed on her, a burden almost beyond bearing. How could he let the humans approach her ship and take the one beacon they’d managed to capture? Was that the problem? Kam had been the strongest adept she’d ever encountered. She should have known he would empathize with the beacon. The signs had been there: his concern over Akia’s method of bringing the woman aboard; his solicitousness while her injuries were tended. Akia knew a sting of jealousy. She’d wanted him to feel that way about her.
But the connection between adepts and beacons was mysterious. Adepts were born, not made. They could sense the presence of a beacon across the vastness of space. In Kam’s case, h
e seemed able to read the beacon’s very thoughts.
The woman had bewitched him, Akia thought tersely. She should never have left them unguarded while she pursued personal business. She slammed her fist against the nearest console, the pain jarring all the way to her shoulder. She would not make such a mistake again.
Her futile gesture had brought the com unit alive and Gath’s misery-laden voice responded from the control center.
“Is there something I can do for you, captain?”
Not all was beyond repair, then. “Send a maintenance team to my lab. I want every piece of damaged equipment either dried out or replaced before end of shift.” She thumped the connection closed before he could reply, and took some satisfaction in picturing Gath and his people jumping to do her bidding.
At least some things remained under her control.
There was no reason to set such a short deadline, but she was in the mood to throw her weight around. The sooner her lab functioned again, the sooner she could punish the humans for taking Kam from her. They were the ones who’d killed him, not her. When she was done with the Earthers, they’d have reason to curse her name down the generations.
Chapter 26
“How is Elaine?” Shana asked, keeping her voice low although they were alone in the conference room she’d commandeered at Black Tree. She’d finished debriefing Chenard and Garrett about the shuttle mission. Timo had contributed little at the meeting. Now the pilots were getting some much-needed rest and she could address personal matters.
Timo’s face looked gray as he paced the room. “Bill Astor is checking her over.”
Shana nodded in sympathy. If anyone could help Elaine, it was Bill. “Her baby?”
“Physically, they’re both fine. But the way they got her to the ship – in an energy field not designed to carry living beings – did damage.”
“Memory loss isn’t always permanent,” she said, striving for an optimism she didn’t really feel.
Timo came to a halt in front of her desk. “We have so much information on what happens to people treated the way she was.” He was entitled to the sarcasm she heard in his voice.
