Crimson Rain

by Jaye Roycraft

  His appearance, without the haunted ghost-blue eyes staring at her, was actually quite attractive. His hair, in spite of its unflattering color, was thick and smooth. The brows, darker than his hair, shaded his closed eyes. The strong nose would have appeared too prominent in a weaker face, but here was perfectly balanced by his other features, just as strong. The cheekbones, pronounced and well-shaped, were framed by the long, flared sideburns, and the square jaw, with just the trace of a cleft, completed the whole. But she shouldn’t forget the mouth, she thought, the mouth that rarely smiled. The lips weren’t full, but the mouth was well-defined and generous enough not to be overpowered by the rest of the package. No, his appearance was far from unattractive, she thought, then quickly chastised herself for her foolishness and her disloyalty to Rayn.

  Rayn . . . if she thought about Rayn, she’d go crazy. He might not even be missing her yet. Kyl had said they were on the edge of the Synergic frontier. Beyond the frontier was the Deorcan Grid. So close, yet she knew B’harata was, in fact, far away. Though he’d left for B’harata before she had, it was possible Rayn was still in hypersleep, completely unaware that she wouldn’t arrive as scheduled. In all the commotion on board the Tisiphone and Megaera, she’d neglected to note the time of the year marked by the Glacian Standard.

  Reluctantly, and with an effort, she pushed the images of Rayn to the back of her mind. She had to deal with this man now. Though she’d rebelled at the notion that “he owned her,” she had a strange feeling that her destiny was tied to his. Certainly her survival was. She believed his words regarding that subject. If she couldn’t keep him alive, she would surely perish as well in this dangerous land.

  She quickly learned how to measure time by the sun’s position on the horizon. For 180 degrees she bathed him, cooled him when the fever seemed to worsen, and tediously forced as much water into him as possible, wetting a cloth and wringing precious drops into his mouth. For the next half-circle around the horizon she rested or slept close to him, not quite in contact with him, her mind likewise coiled around his, not touching it, yet compelling him to live, just as she had done with Rayn long ago.

  During the second day, when she was exhausted from hours of non-stop nursing, the fever intensified, and Kyl spoke in a delirium. The words were choppy and fragmented, like a sea under a stormy sky, not at all like the usual powerful current of his voice. Dina strained to understand him, but could only catch a word now and again before the fevered sounds ebbed away. She thought she heard the words “ax” and “dhagaz” several times before the nightmare played itself out. Strange words, she thought. Perhaps they were places, or names. Kylariz rocked from side to side, his features contorted in pain. Dina tried to hold his arms, but his strength, even in his febrile state, was too much for her. She used her real strength—her mind—instead, and with a strong probe, touched the heart of his being. It was like touching a raw nerve, and she snapped her mind probe back instantly before the power and pain she felt could burn her. She had never experienced anything like it, and for a moment she hovered at the edge of his mind and considered what she had just felt.

  She had encountered burn before, the dangerous and uncontrollable physical and emotional vortex a novice telepath falls into when probing another’s mind too deeply. She had been burned mildly with Rayn, his emotions overwhelming her senses, but this was different. This wasn’t emotions, or even strength of will, but raw power, a field of force contained by his very skull. Dina didn’t know what to make of it. There was so much she hadn’t had time to learn from Rayn.

  She let her mind curl loosely around his once again and compelled him to relax. Gradually she relaxed as well, holding him, and like an automatic beacon, continued to send him waves of wellness. At last, though he didn’t move, she felt a change in his body as the tension drained from him. She held his head, and feeling his neck and shoulder muscles relax, supported him as he lay back once more on the mat she had made for him. She was utterly spent, her face bathed in as much sweat as his was. She slept pressed against him that night. He had no more nightmares.

  KYL AWOKE WITH all the torment a body that had been shot and burned could throw at him. But his mind was strong with the cooling of the fever, and he was able to block out much of the physical pain. A harder thing to do was to block out the memory of the fevered nightmares.

  He’d seen Axial in the moment before her death, when she was naked and covered only in fear and horror. He saw his own helplessness as he pleaded for her life. And he saw her death, when Dhagaz shot her in the head with his automatic rifle. No rez or rupter guns for Dhagaz. He’d wanted blood, and the steel-tipped cartridges gave it to him. She hadn’t screamed or cried, but had accepted her end with dignity. Dhagaz had fired over and over until her golden skin was covered with red.

  But the nightmare had gone on in his fevered sleep, as it had years ago. He saw himself as he woke from the stun to find Dhagaz gone. He’d survived, but no one else on the colony outpost had. He’d wandered from room to room, building to building, but blood was all he saw. The nightmare magnified its color, and he saw a crimson downpour that fell and flowed and blinded him so that he saw nothing but the blood rain.

  The nightmares of the Crimson Rain and Ax’s death had always come easily, and he usually welcomed them. They were steel to his mind, reminding him of his purpose, but this one had been like a drugged nightmare, vivid and far too real. Breathing heavily, he sat up and, with a force of will, banished the memory. He wet a cloth and scrubbed his face, and when his breathing steadied, he exited the tent.

  The girl sat on the ground nearby, watching him. “You didn’t leave me,” he said hoarsely. Charity was not something he would have expected from a grayshirt. Neither was good sense from a headstrong female.

  She eyed him warily. “A keen observation. But I expect no less from you, Captain.”

  She had a sharp tongue, his little Hellfire, but he couldn’t blame her for her less than enthusiastic response to his recovery. He’d saved her from the Qual, but other than that, he hadn’t exactly smothered her with kindness. But now they were even and back to square one.

  “Start packing everything. We leave when you’re done.”

  “You shouldn’t be up yet,” she scolded.

  “Oh, you’ll be doing the work, not me.”

  She started to protest, but apparently thought better of it and turned her back on him instead.

  He rubbed a hand over his face. By the stubble growth he had been out for two days. He checked the bandage on his side. It was fresh. So, she’d not only saved him, but cared for him. Very little in life surprised him, but she did. Saving his life could have been nothing more than self-preservation, but nursing him showed she burned not only with zeal, but compassion. Just like Axial. He shaved and washed and came to stand beside her. He rubbed his chin and looked down at her.

  “Why didn’t you shave me? You seem to have attended me in all other respects.”

  She cocked her head and stared at him. “The temptation to slit your throat would have been too great,” she said evenly.

  He smiled and reached out a hand to lightly touch her hair, brushing her cheek in the process. She didn’t shy from his touch as he thought she would, and memories again flowed over his lowered mental guards like water over a dam.

  Stars whirled behind his eyes, and the siren song of the past called to him over time and space, until he was a galaxy away. He saw Axial as when she was young—fearless, passionate and as quick with her mind as her tongue. She’d been but a space rookie at a time when he had long been a Fleet officer. She’d wanted to catch his attention so badly she’d changed the star chart data base to rename a star after him. He had reamed her out good, assigning her double duty shifts for a cycle, but he never heard the end of it. Fellow officers called him “The Star,” and even the rank and file called him “Lt. Star” behind his back. But she had worked off he
r punishment with diligence and grace, and they’d been inseparable after that. With her at his side he’d learned anew everything he had once known and forgotten.

  He dropped the smile and pushed the images away with an effort. The soft memories of his days with Axial were worse than the nightmares. They were like an infection that spread until he could think of nothing else. This girl wasn’t Ax. She wasn’t his partner, but his property, and he wasn’t going to pretend she was anything else. He would do well to remember that, and so would she.

  He dressed her down with a look that came easily to his ex-officer’s eyes. “There’ll be many a time you’ll wish you had let me die, Hellfire,” he whispered. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged. “Make sure you do something to hide this when we near Paradise,” he ordered, louder this time.

  As he released her, she swung her head to the side, flinging her hair at him as if she could slap his face with it. Property, hell. His thoughts of a moment ago already mocked him. She’d be no one’s “property.” There was too much fire in her for that to ever happen. Suddenly, he had no idea what he was going to do with her.

  The only thing he knew was that he wasn’t going to let her go without a hell of a fight.

  Chapter Six

  The News

  THE FOLLOWING morning Rayn received a call from Ryol. The communication was unexpected, but welcome, until Rayn heard his brother’s words.

  “So, little brother doesn’t want to go back to Glacia. Why not, I wonder?”

  “You seem to know my business before I do, Rye.”

  “And that surprises you? You yourself suggested I keep an eye on you. Or perhaps you’ve already forgotten?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “A word of advice, little brother. Advice I’m sure you’ll ignore, as you always have, but I’ll give it to you nevertheless. Don’t set yourself against the Sundrion. It would be a very . . . impolitic move for someone in your position to make. They’re more powerful than anyone on B’harata, save the Triarchy. If you don’t care about yourself, think of the family you profess to suddenly care so much about. I know I don’t mean anything to you, but think of Cyonne and her bond-mate. And think of your Glacian woman.”

  “A threat, Rye?”

  “No threat, little brother. Just advice.”

  The call was abruptly disconnected.

  Rayn.

  His mind was on Ryol and the Sundrion, but he nevertheless dropped all thoughts when he heard Sage’s Voice in his head. The Voice was as pale and flat as death, and Rayn felt an unaccustomed fear surge upward like a geyser.

  Sage, what is it?

  Come to the port, now. As quickly as you can.

  His control forced a cap on his fear, but nothing could prevent the pounding of his heart in his ears as he called to Cyonne.

  Cyonne. Something’s wrong. Take me to Sage.

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t waste time in questions. They were both silent as she expertly maneuvered her air car through the domes and tunnels at a speed that bordered on recklessness. Time slowed to a crawl for Rayn, but they in fact reached the port in less than an hour.

  Sage. Where exactly are you?

  Port Control, second level. There’s a security checkpoint, but they’re expecting you, so you’ll get through straightaway.

  It was Dina. He knew it, as certainly as he knew his family name. Something had happened to her ship. As he endured the security procedure, he tried to tell himself it was a delay, nothing more, but there’d been something in Sage’s Voice that had implanted a dread in his mind as inescapable as heat in the desert and cloudbursts in the wetlands.

  Sage was waiting for him, his expression immutable.

  Tell me, Sage.

  “Come into the office. You, too, Cyonne.”

  Gods, Sage, don’t make me endure more bureaucratic nonsense.

  Rayn, it has to be done this way. They’re doing you a favor as it is in meeting with you, just because you’re my cousin. Come.

  Rayn entered the small office, Cyonne holding his arm. The control he’d exerted on Exodus to defeat the killer Gyn T’halamar was nothing compared to that which he wielded now, simply to bear the insensate words voiced by the two port officials before him.

  “We regret to inform you that the ship Palladia, en route from Glacia to B’harata, was boarded by raiders. The information we have is that these raiders stole cargo from the ship and took a passenger, a Glacian woman listed as Mondina Marlijn. The captain of the Palladia and the ship itself were left unharmed.”

  No! The compassionless statements were like a cut to his flesh, and the single word flowed from his mind like life’s blood from a wound. Sage immediately gripped Rayn’s arm and shoulder as well as his mind.

  Rayn, listen to me. If you lose yourself, you won’t be able to help her. We need information. Discipline and restraint, cousin. Come, immure your emotions.

  Rayn closed his eyes and breathed deeply, subordinating his feelings to his will. I’m all right. Let me go.

  Sage did as he was bid. Rayn felt him release his mind, but Sage’s mental contact remained as close as possible without being intrusive. Rayn straightened his stance and threw his head back to fling the hair from his face.

  “D’anthara, have a seat,” said the Port Director, his voice unchanged.

  Rayn ignored the request. “What raiders boarded the ship?” he asked, his voice taking on a strange softness.

  “A man who calls himself Captain Kylariz, the ‘Phoenix,’ of the ship Tisiphone, and one of his crew.”

  “You know this man?”

  “Citizen D’anthara, there’s a lot of space out there, and raiders are as numerous as vermin in the wetlands. No, I don’t know of him.”

  “Did you check your data base?”

  “Of course.”

  “What do you plan on doing about this offense?”

  “We have no jurisdiction in this matter.”

  “Who does?”

  “You don’t seem to understand. The incident occurred in Synergic space, not the Deorcan Grid. The ship boarded was a Glacian ship. The woman abducted was a Glacian. The suspect, this Captain Kylariz, is not wanted by us or by any other Deorcan agency. It’s very clearly a problem for the Synergy.”

  “‘Problem.’ This woman is not just a Glacian, Director. She’s my bond-mate.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that. Unfortunately, it doesn’t change anything.”

  “So there’s nothing you will do to help me.”

  “Help? I don’t quite understand what it is you expect, even if I could do anything. The woman is gone. A very foolish move on her part, booking passage on a cargo ship. She should have known better.”

  Rayn’s mind exploded with rage, and he felt the embryonic mental daggers take shape in his consciousness like spikes on the head of a mace. He immediately felt both Sage’s and Cyonne’s minds restraining his.

  Loose the ang’nagel on these men now, Rayn, and you’re finished. They’ll see to it you’re on the next ship outbound to a penal colony. Come on, now, calm yourself, and let’s get out of here. There are others who will help us.

  Rayn forced the tension to drain from his body and mind and knew that Sage felt it, too. Sage loosened his governing hold to that of a supporting hand.

  “You’re right, Director. It was a very foolish thing for her to do,” said Rayn, his voice controlled but as sharp as the spikes he had longed to hurl a moment ago.

  “Your time has been appreciated, Director. I’ll see them out,” added Sage, already guiding Rayn toward the door. In the corridor Sage let out a long sigh.

  “I know you won’t believe this, cousin, but they’re not bad men. But it’s true they have no love for the Synergy. It rankles them that so many Glacian ships dock here d
ay after day and reap their proceeds, while our ships are confined to the Grid. I daresay they were actually pleased to hear of the Palladia having a less than profitable run. Come. There’s a visitor’s room nearby where we can talk.”

  Within moments, the three were alone in the small room. Cyonne sat beside Rayn and wrapped her arm around him. “Sage is right. This is not an insurmountable problem. We know who has her. This raider has the arrogance to call himself ‘the Phoenix,’ and apparently he took no pains to disguise his identity. He’s probably boastful of his acts and well known by Synergy officials.”

  Rayn shook his head. “You don’t understand. Dina’s a beauty. He’ll sell her. By the time I find him, she’ll be long gone from him.”

  “You don’t know that. Listen, Rayn, the first thing we need to do is talk to someone who can give us more information.”

  “‘Us?’”

  “Cyonne can speak for herself, but as for myself, I’ll do whatever is needed to help you in this. Whatever is needed.”

  Rayn touched Sage’s mind and knew he spoke the truth.

  “Raynga, we’ll both help. You know that,” said Cyonne.

  Rayn merely nodded, knowing no other expression of thanks was expected or needed. “Who can we talk to?”

  “Well, there are the government sanctioned agencies, and then there are those who operate without the blessing of the Triarchy. I think we can eliminate Sha’haran Port Authority as being of much use. That leaves Grid Recon, if we want official help, and the Conductors, if we want to work outside the law.”

  “So who do you know?” asked Rayn.

  Sage smiled.

  They wasted no time. Sage knew quite a few of the Deorcan Grid Reconnaissance pilots, many of whom were based at the spaceport which traveled in geostationary orbit high above Sha’haran. Sage immediately put a call in to Recon headquarters to find out which of the pilots he knew were currently docked, and the effort was rewarded with two names. The same call, however, informed him that Rayn, due to his probationary citizenship status, would not be allowed to shuttle to the spaceport.