“That sucks,” Dro Tar grumbled. “We can’t manufacture interdimensional portals or morph the shape of the ship?”
He laughed. “Is that what you two predicted?”
“That’s what she was hoping.” Saebin corrected. “The real question is why does the overlord want a ship that’s undetectable to his own people?”
“For the same reason he wants you fully operational.” Dro Tar crossed her legs and made a bland gesture toward Saebin. “Whatever he’s into has nothing to do with the Joint Council.” Saebin glanced at him. She’d said the same thing the night before. “When do I get a demonstration of your armor?”
“The next time you piss her off.”
Dro Tar made a face at him and pushed to her feet. “What’s the plan now that we’ve got ourselves an invisible ride?”
“We need to dump the guards, then arrange a meeting with the High Queen.”
Dro Tar whistled. “You’re going to turn in your old man?”
His gaze drifted to Saebin as he said, “He’s left me no choice.” Even if he hadn’t developed feelings for his father’s victim, what Cyrus was doing was wrong. High Queen Charlotte had to know.
“I’ll go see if I can help with the guards.” Dro Tar bounded from the lounge.
“How are you going to contact the High Queen without alerting Cyrus?” Saebin remained at the minrell table, but deactivated the game.
“I’ll have Trey set it up, unless ... Can you contact her directly?”
She shook her head. “Telepathy has never been my strong suit. I can navigate established pathways, but I’m no good at creating them. Even then, I’m better at receiving thoughts than sending them. I might be able to reach Krysta. Would that be safer than Trey?”
“It’s six one way, half a dozen the other. I just hate to keep involving them.” Three subtle beeps announced an incoming transmission to Lyrik’s audiocom. “Go ahead.”
“It’s Tann, sir. I’ve been scanning COT communications, making sure they haven’t picked up our trail. You know how tracker teams are, sir. They won’t give up until they’ve exhausted ever possible lead.”
Tann had a tendency to ramble, so Lyrik nudged him toward the point. “Is there a problem?”
“Not for us.” Lyrik could picture the lanky young man’s elaborate shrug. “The NRS is out in force at the Conservatory. I’ve tapped into a news feed if you want to take a look.”
“Send it down.” Lyrik walked to the vidscreen recessed in the far wall and pressed the bottom right corner of the screen. Audio reached him a moment before the images formed. Angry voices overlapped, and people pumped their fists in the air. The crowd lined the far bank of Mystic Brook. Beyond the swiftly flowing water stretched lush grass and a stately building surrounded by a railed gallery. Pink clouds hung low in the violet sky. The boisterous protesters abraded the tranquil setting.
“What is this place?” Saebin moved up beside him, her gaze fixed on the vidscreen. “Why are they so angry?”
“This would be the latest protest of the NRS.” He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “They’ve never been this overt before.”
“Where are they, and what are they protesting?” Her voice sounded oddly hushed, drawing his attention away from the screen. She reached out slowly as if she could touch the images. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen a vidscreen, so what accounted for her awe?
“The building in the background is the Conservatory. It’s the Mystics’ headquarters and training center. Today is the annual Choosing. That’s cause enough for the NRS.” She lowered her hand and glanced at him, her cheeks flushed, eyes unusually bright. “Are you all right?”
She rubbed her eyes and nodded. “I felt an odd -- rush when I first looked at the image. My armor has compensated. What are the Mystics choosing?”
Should he be more concerned that the Conservatory gave her a rush or that her armor was able to compensate? Shaking away the disquieting thought, he answered her question. “Children with great potential are brought to the Conservatory on this day every cycle. The Master Level Mages scan them and select the very best for apprenticeship. It’s an honor just to be invited to the Choosing, and only a handful will actually be selected.”
Saebin returned her attention to the protesters. “Why do they care what the Mystics do? Were their children not selected?”
“In a way. The vast majority of the NRS members have no Mystic abilities.” He sighed. They felt threatened by the Mystics’ awesome power, intimidated and envious. Yet, their frustration was justified. Every member of the Joint Council had some sort of Mystic ability, so who represented those without?
“Do the Mystics misuse their power?” She turned from the vidscreen and teetered, color bleeding from her face.
“Saebin.” He reached for her, but her knees buckled before he could catch her. Steadying her as best he could, he eased her limp body to the floor.
Saebin screamed, her body arching off the treatment table. The man on her right slumped in a chair, while her handler sprawled on Saebin’s left. They were bound together like a human chain, wrist to wrist, palms touching. Energy flowed through Saebin, searing in its intensity. Thoughts, memories, and information saturated the energy.
“Saebin. Saebin release the past. Listen to my voice.”
Krystabel. The ghost again. “What do you want with me?” The pain eased, but her frustration was just as strong. The image shifted out of focus, accenting sound.
“Everything will happen quickly. You must be ready.”
“Ready for what? You speak in riddles.”
“Ready to bring me home. Seth is the key. I’m not sure how, but he will lead me home.”
“Seth is a child, little more than an infant. How can he be the key to bringing you back?”
“I can’t explain it, but I know it must be soon. My spirit is dispersing. There is not much time left. If I remain in this dimension much longer, I will be lost forever.”
Saebin shuddered violently as the room focused again. She was still strapped to the treatment table, but the others were gone. “They say you’re my mother. Is that true?”
“It isn’t important right now.”
“Is it true?”
“Yes.”
Why wasn’t she pleased by the confirmation? This was so strange.
Loneliness pressed in, making her chest ache and her head pound. Why didn’t her armor compensate for the emotional spike? Something was wrong. She struggled against her bonds, tossing her head from side to side.
What was wrong with her?
“Saebin.” Warm fingers stroked her face. “Can you hear me, sweetheart? Come back to me.”
The vision freed her by degrees. Lyrik’s voice drew her back. She was cradled in his arms, surrounded by the sweet scent of flowers. A sob escaped her, releasing the tension in her chest. “I ... do you smell ...”
“Flowers?” Disbelief rumbled through his tone. “I thought I was imagining it.”
“I saw Krystabel again.” She opened her eyes, blinking against the light. “I didn’t actually see her; I just heard her voice.”
“Did you smell flowers the first time?”
She nodded. “How long did the vision last?”
“Not long. How many times have you heard her voice?”
She sat up more in his lap, then on the floor. Thank god they had the lounge to themselves. The crew would think she’d lost her mind. She licked her lips and resisted the urge to curl back into his warm arms.
“Just once,” she replied. “When she brought me out of stasis. She said she’d released my Mystic energy, and then I woke up in the lab.”
“Have your abilities changed since you came out of stasis?” He sounded dubious.
“It’s hard to say. I was so weak I could hardly stand when I woke up.”
“And the rest has been one crisis after another?” She nodded. “What did she say this time? Were there images or just her voice?”
Sh
e explained what she’d seen and felt as succinctly as she could. “I thought it was another memory flash until I heard Krystabel. Krysta told me she smells flowers, too, when Krystabel appears to her. This is all so strange.”
“As soon as we drop off the guards, I’ll set course for the Conservatory. We have to get you to the Mystics.” He glanced away, his chest expanding with a deep breath. “I don’t know how to help you.”
She’d nearly killed their leader. Why would the Mystics want to help her? “What about the NRS? Isn’t their protest drawing attention to the Conservatory?”
“We’ll use it as a diversion. The ship is undetectable, so all we’ll need to do is get one of the Mystics to teleport onboard.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” Now she sounded dubious.
“Trey’s brother is a Mystic. He’s also your aunt’s life mate.”
“The High Queen is married to Trey’s brother?”
“Yep. Tal dar Aune. That’s Master Tal to you.” He helped her to her feet with an encouraging smile. “Maybe you should lie down for a while. It will take us several hours to reach the Conservatory.”
“I’m too anxious to sleep.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I need to run a combat simulation or ...”
He smiled and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’d love to help you with the ‘or,’ but I need to find somewhere to drop these guards. There is no telling where this mess will lead us or how long it will take to resolve. I’d rather be rid of them now. The Gale doesn’t have a simulator bay, however, it’s got a well-equipped gym. You can kick the resistance bag until your muscles ache, just don’t discharge your weapons.”
After demonstrating how each apparatus worked, Lyrik left her alone in the gym. Saebin experimented with the settings and positions of the various pieces of equipment. She would have preferred a live sparring partner. Still, the resistance bag came close. She pummeled the body-shaped bag, striking each lighted target as it flashed. It measured the speed of her response and the accuracy of her attack.
“Damn, woman, I’m sure glad you’re on my team.”
Dro Tar’s comment made her smile. “Are the guards off the ship?” she asked without breaking the rhythm of her routine.
“Yep. We’ll be at the Conservatory before they reach the nearest settlement.”
She paused and looked over her shoulder. Dro Tar had slipped her hands into the back pockets of her faded blue jeans. A cropped tee shirt displayed her toned abdomen. Today’s slogan read, “Yes I do, but not with you.”
“How well do you know Tal?”
“Not as well as I know Trey. What’s your boggle?”
Saebin grabbed a towel off a nearby shelf and dried her face. “D-159 was trained to mistrust. It’s hard to break out of her mindset.”
“I can only imagine. If it helps at all, Trey and Tal were both instrumental in your rescue.”
Saebin averted her gaze. Her definition of rescue obviously differed from Dro Tar’s. Cyrus had treated her no differently than Hydran. “Can I gain access to the refugee files after I shower?”
“We’ve been through them twice.”
“I must have missed something.” Saebin wrapped the towel around her neck. “My handler was there when I came out of stasis. I know her voice.”
“I’m not doubting what you heard.” Dro Tar led her from the gym. “If this woman is working for Cyrus, he would have covered his tracks.”
“I need something to do. I have no -- objective.” She stumbled over the word.
Dro Tar ducked into her quarters and returned with a small, thin device. “I uploaded the personnel files as well as any information I could find about the dispersal of the refugees. Have at it.”
After a quick shower, Saebin returned to the aft lounge. She opened the viewport and activated the datascreen. Dro Tar was right; Cyrus would have concealed the movements of his accomplice. Still, she would search for any anomaly.
She lost track of time as she scoured the files, reading and re-reading each entry. The lounge door slid open, and she glanced up from the screen. A tall, lanky youth strolled into the room. Tann, her brain supplied his name almost subconsciously.
“Do you mind if I play minrell?” He nodded toward the table behind her.
She shifted her chair, bringing the game table into her periphery vision. “Of course not.”
He plopped into one of the two chairs and activated the game. “The commander wants us all to take a break every few hours. Doesn’t want to burn us out, I guess.”
Why was he justifying his presence? She hadn’t thought it odd until he explained. Shifting her chair again, she looked at the lad more closely. He’d scooted his chair back from the table as the game loaded. His long legs were braced apart, hands resting lightly on his knees. He glanced at her and smiled.
There was nothing specific in his manner to set Saebin on edge, still she pushed back from the table.
“What are you working on?” He glanced at the game table, then back at her.
“Research.” Her input ring vibrated, and she powered down the datascreen. She made it to her feet before he lunged for her. She knocked him backward with a swipe of her forearm. His hip hit the minrell table, preventing his fall. She raised her fist and aimed it at his heart. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He made a subtle movement, and the object tucked up his sleeve slid into the palm of his hand. Much to his credit, he didn’t speak, allowing nothing to distract him. His dark gaze focused on her face, his stance loose and ready.
Did he honestly think he could reach her before her pulse rendered him unconscious? He was either incredibly arrogant or ignorant of her abilities. Either way she was finished indulging him. She sent out a Mystic pulse and waited for him to fall.
A slow, cocky smile curved his lips. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”
He kicked her hand upward as she shot. Her energy stream flew across the room in a useless arch. She jump kicked, spinning in a tight circle. He answered with a sharp counterstrike. Agile and surprisingly strong, he matched her blow for blow.
She shot again, grazing the side of his neck. He yelped, but kept right on coming. The remaining energy hit the hull, triggering an alarm. He scowled and surged forward, determination hardening his features.
As if controlled by the same puppet master, they raised their hands at exactly the same time. A dense mist burst from the slender device in his right hand, and he slapped her chest with his other hand. She sent a narrow stream of energy into his brain. The mist hit her full in the face. She staggered backward. He shrieked, flailing uncontrollably before collapsing in a hapless pile.
Shock gave way to panic as the stinging in her eyes escalated to searing pain. Rubbing her eyes increased the heat, so she reached blindly for a chair. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and each breath multiplied the burning.
“Help me!” she cried. Darkness closed in, and fire sank ever deeper.
Chapter Fourteen
Lyrik ran through the corridor, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d flipped on surveillance in the aft lounge just in time to watch Tann spray Saebin in the face with an infuser. What had the mist contained, and how the hell had Tann gotten close enough to attack?
“Medical emergency to the aft lounge,” he shouted before realizing his skeleton crew didn’t include a physician. “Zane, I guess that’s you. I’ll meet you in the infirmary.”
Pausing long enough to grab the infuser out of Tann’s lifeless hand, Lyrik scooped Saebin into his arms and rushed for the infirmary. Zane was waiting as well as two other crewmen. Lyrik placed Saebin on the treatment table, his mouth so dry he could hardly speak.
“Tann sprayed her with this.” He held up the device so Zane could see it. “She was unconscious when I got there.”
“How did he get close enough to use an infuser on her?” Zane muttered as he activated the primary scanner. He had flirted with the idea
of becoming a doctor before his wanderlust set in. Though Zane’s medical training was minimal, Lyrik was thankful for it now.
“An alarm went off so I turned on the camera. They were already fighting. I have no idea why he was still standing.” He glanced at the other two men. “Go get his body and bring it here.”
“Yes, sir,” they responded in unison.
Zane shook his head, blue-black hair brushing his cheeks. “I don’t know what this is. It’s spreading like wildfire. Shit!” He injected her with something, and her heartbeat stabilized for a moment. “Can we get her out of this suit? It’s releasing adrenaline and god knows what else.”
Lyrik took her hand. Her fingers were like ice, and his heart gave another lurch. “She has to trigger it or the suit overloads.”
Wiping his eyes with his forearm, Zane looked from the scans to Saebin and back. “I’m not a doctor, sir. I don’t know how to combat this.”
No! Lyrik stepped closer to the table, pressing her hand against his chest. “Can you put her in stasis until we reach the Conservatory?”
“I’ll try, but this is so far out of my --”
Light flashed through the infirmary. Zane squinted into the glare, while Lyrik drew his pulse pistol and turned to confront the intruder. Vee stood in the middle of the room, his black robes a stark contrast to his snow-white hair.
“I will take the female.” Vee glided forward, his emerald gaze focused on Saebin.
“Like hell you will.”
His brow arched in challenge, and his intricately woven hair uncoiled, trailing behind him on the floor. “Ye prefer to watch her die?”
Lyrik swallowed hard. “How did you know ...” Vee was damn near omniscient. He knew what he wanted to know. But Saebin had tried to kill him. “Treat her here.”
Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears Page 12
