Alien Redemption [Clans of Kalquor 06]

by Tracy St. John

  For Erybet’s part, he usually found Kivokan too in love with his own voice. There had been occasions when he’d been tempted to challenge the man when he spoke to Conyod with more than a touch of condescension. Fortunately, Conyod was quite capable of handling the Dramok himself.

  Erybet had found Kivokan irritating before. After seeing the state his Imdiko was in, he decided he didn’t like him at all.

  Breft was giving Akrij’s Dramok a cold, hard stare. He’d been like a stern but caring parent with Trusec. Now he was all Nobek, his expression and posture that of a predator ready to spring. With awful finality he told Kivokan, “You will sit down, Dramok, and answer my questions.”

  Kivokan’s fury eased a few notches. He looked at all four of the men glowering at him and stepped back. Sketching a little bow of belated respect, he said, “My emperors, Trusec is a very delicate personality. He requires calm surroundings and reassurance that he’s safe.”

  Lidon spoke behind Erybet, making him jump a little. Damned Nobeks kept sneaking up on him. “Trusec is settled for now until he is returned to your care. Dr. Degorsk is with him.”

  Kivokan’s lip curled. “Degorsk? That clown takes nothing seriously. Why Govi sponsors that—”

  Lidon’s growl filled the room. “Watch your tongue when you speak of my clanmate.”

  “Or what? You’ll beat me in front of our emperors?” Kivokan’s dismissal set Erybet’s teeth on edge.

  Breft moved in a blur, stopping so close to Kivokan that their chests bumped. The Dramok fell back with a gasp. Breft grabbed his collar and yanked him close again. His fangs out, Breft spoke slowly, enunciating every word. “Sit. Down. Now.” He shoved Kivokan towards the table.

  Kivokan stumbled backwards and finally seemed to realize no one in the room was his ally.

  Looking scared and angry, he dropped into the chair. With bad grace he muttered, “My apologies. I am very confused and upset. Being snatched like a criminal has put me in a foul mood.”

  Breft went to the other side of the table but remained standing. Without preamble he snapped, “Where is your Nobek?”

  Kivokan snorted. “At work. Let me guess; the base wouldn’t allow your officers—” he spat the word out like an insult “—to bundle him off as you did with us.”

  “He is not at his job.” Breft paused to let that sink in. Kivokan simply shrugged, so the Nobek continued. “Trusec has told us Akrij disappears on occasion. Where does he go?”

  Kivokan’s scowling expression didn’t change, but he went still all over, his breath held for a moment. He snapped, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Breft slammed his hands onto the table surface and leaned in close. In a low voice he said,

  “I’m talking about murder, Dramok Kivokan. The deaths of Mataras. New Bethlehem.”

  The psychiatrist’s eyes went wide. His face paled and he shouted, “Akrij’s involvement in New Bethlehem is supposed to be confidential!”

  Next to Erybet, Bevau growled, “Then why do you know about it?”

  Breft ignored the interruption. “Akrij countermanded Commander Sletran’s order to abort the mission. Why?”

  Kivokan looked at him with horror. “Who told you that?” He turned his attention to Erybet.

  “You knew? But he jammed the frequencies between you and Sletran!”

  On the other side of Bevau, Clajak gasped. Bevau and Breft stiffened and stared at Kivokan, who continued to wait for Erybet to answer him. He seemed unaware that he’d just confirmed Akrij had orchestrated the slaughter.

  Freezing cold licked through Erybet’s gut, turning it into a heavy ball of ice. He heard his voice from far away. “We trusted Akrij. We would have died for him. And all along, we’re just his scapegoats, his pawns—”

  “No.” Kivokan stood slowly, his gaze intent on Erybet’s face. “You men meant everything to him. Sometimes I think he loved his soldiers more than his own clan. Every death any of you suffered killed something inside him.” His head shook from side to side, but that hectic stare never wavered. “It was those damned Earthers! Attacking his people after the war was over, killing the men who were trying to help them. His men. And then there was that woman.”

  Kivokan’s eyes closed and he dropped back into his chair. “Akrij only wanted to help her.

  He only wanted to help.”

  He fell silent. The seconds spun out until Clajak quietly asked, “What woman? What did she do?”

  Kivokan didn’t answer. He only sat there, staring at the table in front of him.

  Erybet knew exactly who the woman was. As if he could ever forget. He and Sletran and Conyod’s father Vel had been standing there, speaking to Akrij when she approached. Small and shivering despite the bulky coat she wore and the sweat covering her face.

  He said, “She asked for food, and Akrij sent her into the dining hall. We’d never been attacked by the women before. We never thought to search her before sending her in.”

  Clajak’s mouth hung open. “She attacked you?”

  “She detonated the explosives she had hidden on her body. She was surrounded by soldiers when she did it. We lost a lot of men that day. We later discovered the rebels had abducted her child and threatened his life if she didn’t do it.” Erybet choked on the words. “She had no choice.”

  Kivokan recovered his voice. “Then there were others. They kept coming, kept trying to kill even though Akrij knew what to look for after the first one. He saw them as a threat to the men he wanted to send home safely.”

  Breft asked the final question. “Is that why he’s killing the Mataras here? Because he thinks they’re a threat?”

  Kivokan shuddered. His voice took on a pleading note. “You don’t have to arrest him. You can’t let it be known what happened. You know they’ll kill him for the murders on Kalquor and New Bethlehem.”

  Lidon stepped forward as Kivokan stood and approached Clajak and Bevau, his hands held out in supplication. “Let me put Akrij in the hospital. I can help him. I can treat him. I can save him.”

  He looked startled when Breft and Lidon appeared at his side. Lidon cuffed his ankles and Breft, his wrists. “Immobilize the prisoner,” Breft ordered the voice-command cuffs. He glared at Kivokan. “You can’t help Akrij, not when you’re in prison yourself for knowingly letting him murder all those women. You’re under arrest, Dramok.”

  Kivokan stared at him in disbelief, too shocked to speak. Then he looked at Erybet, who stepped towards him. Bevau’s hands gripped Erybet’s shoulders, keeping him from getting close enough to attack. He didn’t struggle against the emperor.

  Instead he stood there, looking at the man who had been a part of destroying not only his clan, but the lives of so many soldiers, women, and children. Kivokan couldn’t have prevented the Slaughter of Innocents, but a great many others might have been saved had he done something to stop Akrij.

  Erybet told him, “Be very glad Global Security got to you first. And you’d better pray to every ancestor you hold dear that they find Akrij before I do.”

  * * * *

  Conyod led the way through the greeting room as he and Rachel headed for the transport.

  After recovering from lovemaking, they’d taken a quick shower and gathered Sletran’s things.

  Just as he reached the door, Conyod turned his head to look at her. He said, “Let’s stop on our way back to Global Security to get Sletran something decent to eat. Who knows what kind of slop they serve in their holding cells?”

  Rachel was in complete agreement, though she was eager to see her Nobek. The sex had been wonderful and exactly what she and Conyod needed following the rough morning they’d had, but it had taken up time that could have been spent with their clanmate.

  Conyod was still looking at her when the door to the transport opened. Rachel’s eyes widened to see a snarling Nobek Akrij framed in the doorway. Before Conyod could turn to see what made her gasp, Akrij struck out with a fist, smashing into the side of the Imdiko’s skul
l.

  Conyod flew halfway across the room, bouncing off the low table in the middle of the floor.

  Sletran’s belongings exploded from the carryall he’d been holding. Akrij was on him immediately, throwing the smaller man to land near the bar. The Nobek moved so fast, Rachel could barely see as he smashed a liquor bottle, then another, and a third over Conyod’s head.

  Akrij rose from the still body. Blood ran from Conyod’s forehead. The whole attack had taken less than five seconds, giving Rachel no time to react.

  She screamed in rage and terror at the Nobek staring at her. While her first instinct was to attack the man who had possibly killed her lover right before her eyes, she knew she was no match for him. She ran for the transport.

  Rachel hadn’t finished her first step when Akrij grabbed her, his hand closing around her throat to choke off any further screams. He leaned in close enough to kiss her, but the savage look on his face made Rachel certain he was going to bite instead.

  He grinned, his face a rictus of insanity. “Finally. I feared I’d never get you away from them, but with Sletran’s arrest, I knew you’d be unprotected.”

  Rachel fought for breath as his hand tightened, cutting off all her air. She reached up and clawed bloody paths in his face, fighting with all she had to escape.

  He let go and slapped her hard. She fell to the floor at his feet. Bright lights exploded in her vision, and Rachel knew she was about to pass out. She fought for consciousness, knowing that if she fainted, she was as good as dead.

  Akrij kicked her in the stomach almost casually. Pain ripped through her guts. She curled up to protect herself, retching violently.

  The Nobek watched her, his face now soft with pleasure that was almost as frightening as his earlier rage. He chuckled. “You’ve blinded my poor men, but I know what you are. I will save them from you, you deceiving bitch. You won’t destroy my two best officers.”

  He took a couple lengths of flex cord and a strip of cloth from his belt. Moving with that uncanny Kalquorian speed, he had her wrists and ankles bound and her mouth gagged in seconds. Not bothering to be gentle, Akrij flung her over his shoulder, knocking the wind out of her again.

  Tears blurred Rachel’s vision as he took her into the transport. The last thing she saw before the door closed was Conyod still lying bloody and motionless on the floor.

  * * * *

  Despite the cuffs keeping him immobile, Kivokan was determined to get at someone. He jerked against his restraints, trying to bite Breft and Lidon. Raxstad, looking for Breft, walked into the room and burst out laughing at the sight. He shut up immediately at the grim faces the rest pointed at him.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, coming over to lend a hand that wasn’t really needed. “He just always looks so above it all. My Matara calls him ‘Mr. Shit-Wouldn’t-Melt-In-His-Mouth.’”

  A smile ghosted over Clajak’s face. “Michaela always has had a way with words.”

  Erybet’s com beeped frantically, a signal that someone in his clan desperately needed to get hold of him. He hurried into the hallway to answer it.

  “Yes?”

  “Erybet … he has her … he’s got Rachel.” The breathless voice ended in a moan.

  The Dramok stared at his com. His voice echoed down the hall. “Conyod? Who has Rachel?”

  A senseless question. He knew very well who had her. Breft, Raxstad, and Bevau were suddenly in front of him, their eyes questioning.

  “Nobek … Akrij … attacked … gone.”

  Breft asked, “Did it just happen? Where are you?”

  “Home. Out five … minutes, maybe? Less … perhaps.”

  Raxstad took off down the hall shouting, “I’ll pick up the trail from their complex!”

  Erybet shook all over. The monster had his Matara. His Imdiko was obviously hurt. “Help is coming, Conyod. Conyod?”

  Breft had been giving orders on his own com link. “I’ve sent for emergency medical to help your Imdiko,” he told Erybet.

  The Dramok nodded. “Conyod, if you can still hear me, stay there. Global Security and medical are on the way.”

  A sob told Erybet his clanmate was still conscious, but Conyod’s voice barely made enough sound to understand him. “Sorry, Erybet … never … never saw … him com—”

  The connection broke off. Erybet warred between rushing to his apparently badly injured Imdiko and trying to find Rachel.

  He took a step, thinking he’d know what to do when he reached his shuttle. Hands on his arms stopped him, and his panicked brain registered the two emperors were holding him there.

  Breft was going back into the interrogation room, his expression set.

  “Wait, Erybet,” Clajak said. “You can’t find your Matara on your own. As for Conyod, emergency services are tending him. They’ll have him at the hospital before you can get home.”

  Bevau added, “Let Breft handle this. He and his men are very good at their jobs. They found my empress when she was abducted. They’ll find your Rachel.”

  They half-dragged him back into the interrogation room where Breft was yelling into Kivokan’s face.

  The man who had handled Imdiko Trusec so carefully was nowhere to be seen. Breft’s true nature was apparent as he yanked on Kivokan’s hair, showing fangs, spittle flying as he put on a full Nobek threat display. “Where is your Nobek? Where would he be taking her?”

  Kivokan’s eyes were wide with terror, but he bared his fangs too. “I don’t know!” he yelled back.

  Breft dealt a openhanded slap to his prisoner’s face, a blow that rocked Kivokan’s head back on his neck. Lidon, his face dark with fury, grabbed hair on the back of the Dramok’s head and held him still for a couple more thunderclap hits. Kivokan’s eyes rolled. A thin stream of blood ran from his nose.

  Breft yelled, “Don’t fuck with me, Kivokan! I’ll personally string you up and shockwhip you until your lungs and bowels bleed! No, I’ve got a better idea.”

  He pulled a blade from his belt and looked at Erybet. As desperate and angry as the Dramok was for his clanmates, he was still a little rocked by the feral madness in the Global Security officer’s eyes. Even Erybet’s troops, in full battle heat, had never looked so deadly.

  Breft grinned at him. “I’m going to hand Erybet my knife. I’m going to let him carve you until you tell us where that murdering Nobek of yours took his Matara. Last chance, Kivokan.”

  Bevau and Clajak released Erybet so he could step forward. Cold rage suffused him. He would gladly make Kivokan bleed. And once he got the truth from Kivokan, he’d cut the rotted heart right out of his chest. A growl boiled from him.

  Kivokan’s fangs folded away as he stared at Erybet in terror. He jerked as if he could escape the hovercuffs and overdue justice. “I don’t know! I swear it! He never told me where he took them!”

  Erybet held out his hand. Breft placed the knife in it. Kivokan shrieked.

  Lidon said, “Kivokan, where would Akrij have been in contact with kestarsh?”

  The limping officer’s question cut through the roar in Erybet’s ears. He hesitated, the point of Breft’s knife only an inch from Kivokan’s face. “Kestarsh?”

  Hadn’t they told him kestarsh hairs had been found on one of the bodies?

  Kivokan was still watching him with wide, terrified eyes. “We don’t have any—” Then he stopped. Desperate hope bloomed on his face. He jabbered, “The plains property at the foot of the mountains. We bought it just a few months ago. We haven’t built our vacation home yet, but there are stables from previous owners.”

  Breft grabbed Erybet’s wrist, holding his knife hand still. “Where?”

  “The land is adjacent to Imdiko Conyod’s stables.”

  Lidon snarled, “Exact coordinates. Now.”

  Half a dozen officers arrived, brought in by some signal Erybet had missed. Looking as civilized as any Imdiko, the suddenly businesslike Breft jerked his head toward Kivokan and told them, “Bring him. Maybe the gurluck can talk his Nobek do
wn if we don’t have a clear shot at him.” He looked at Erybet. “My knife, Dramok. We have the information we need.”

  Erybet surrendered the blade reluctantly. His almost desperate urge to render Kivokan into small bits was eclipsed by the more desperate need to get to Rachel. To find her alive and keep her that way. “You have to let me go too. I was there on New Bethlehem. I might know better than anyone what’s in Akrij’s head.”

  Refusal was stamped all over Breft’s face. Before he could answer, Bevau said, “We’re following you, Breft. Erybet will come with us.”

  Breft shook his head, hurrying out of the room with Lidon on his heels. “I don’t have time to argue. Unless I tell you to help, stay back. A Matara’s life is on the line, and I won’t lose her.”

  They raced for the shuttles.

  Chapter 19

  Rachel woke on the hard floor of a shuttle. She knew what it was instantly; its hum matched that of her clan’s vehicles.

  Akrij had put a foul-smelling cloth over her face in the transport, which had knocked her out. Now she lay on one side, blinking up at the Nobek who seemed to tower miles above her in the pilot’s seat. For an instant, she saw Conyod’s bloody face instead, his eyes closed. She blinked tears back furiously. He might still be alive. She had to find a way to remain that way as well.

  Rachel could feel the binds around her wrists and ankles. She strained against them experimentally. There was only a minute amount of give. She’d never slip out of them.

  Akrij looked down at her, and she froze in his tiger’s stare. A smile she could only catalog as utterly insane spread across his brutal face. How the hell had Erybet and Sletran never seen the madness in this man?

  He licked his lips, as if contemplating a big, juicy steak. “It wakes. Just in time, too. We’re almost there.”

  She was fucked. There were no two ways about it. Terror was eclipsing all efforts to remain calm. Tied up. No way to run. No way to fight. Even if she could fight, she had no weapon. And hand-to-hand with this monster? Oh, hell no. He’d break her in half with one blow.