Rayn was touched more than he could have thought possible. Here was indeed the brother Ryol had never been. Cyonne offered her help, but I’m sure she didn’t anticipate your going with me. She’ll oppose it.
Perhaps. She’s my bond-mate, and I love her, but I think this is something I have to do.
They both heard the soft whir of the lift as it rose to their level.
“Very well. What are my options now, legal or otherwise?” asked Rayn.
Cyonne stepped from the lift, and as she had done the night that Rayn had arrived, served the men fine Cygian brandy.
After she left, Sage answered. “One legal way off B’harata might be with the help of the Sundrion. Make them a deal. They might be willing to authorize passage off-world, even to put you in touch with Synergy agencies, in exchange for a promise of service when this is over with.”
Rayn shook his head and took a swallow of the clear rich liquid fire. “I don’t think I’d like having to play by their rules.”
“I know, but they may be able to open doors no one else can,” Sage said.
“I’ll keep an open mind for now. Where else can I turn? What about the Conductors? They travel all over and well outside any government sanction. They should know the criminal element as well as anyone.”
Sage dipped his head, both in assent and to partake of the brandy. “I assume you used their services the last time you left B’harata?”
“Ummm. Do any of them still come to the spaceport?” asked Rayn.
“They used to, but not anymore. There were some nasty incidents involving Conductors a few years ago and a number of deaths. Part of the Sundrion propaganda is that abolishment of the bans will eliminate the Conductors altogether, and citizens who wish to leave B’harata would be able to do so without risking their lives by having a Conductor smuggle them across the frontier. The propaganda has received a lukewarm reception, but one result was that security procedures tightened quite a bit, and the Conductors were refused access to the spacedock.”
“I noticed. I can hardly turn around without going through a security checkpoint.”
Sage nodded. “A response to the violence. Sometimes I think it’s not the best response. It’ll be harder than before to get you off-world, that’s for sure. The Conductors used to be tolerated by the Recon, but less and less now. They pretty much confine themselves to the colonies bordering the frontier. If we decide to avail ourselves of their services, we’d have to find our own way off B’harata and as far as Obylon or Ror. It won’t be easy.”
“Worse and worse, cousin, worse and worse.” Rayn emitted a long sigh, closed his eyes and rolled all the possibilities around and around in his head. He didn’t like any of them. If he tried to leave B’harata illegally, there was too much of a chance he’d be caught and deported again long before he sighted his prey. And any such violation of his probationary status would put him in a confinement that would squelch all future chances at finding Dina, once and for all.
“It’s late, Sage. I’m going to call it a night.”
“Tomorrow, then, cousin.” Rayn.
Rayn opened his eyes and looked at the man whose soul mirrored his so closely.
We will find a way.
Rayn nodded in response, but knew that the small gesture was unnecessary to one who understood him as well as Sage did.
AS TIRED AS HE was, Rayn had trouble sleeping. His mind wouldn’t let up from its quest for a workable plan to find Dina. Trying to stay positive, he considered his options. Sage. Sage would do anything to help him, legal or not, Rayn was sure of it. And working at the port, Sage knew a lot of people. Perhaps he knew of those who were corruptible. Rayn also had credit, quite a large sum. Enough for a bribe to gain passage for himself and Sage to Obylon or Ror. But how long would the money last? Was there enough to pay off a Conductor? What if he had to travel farther? Would he have enough for a ship of his own? As much as he had traveled, he was no pilot himself. Could Sage pilot and navigate a ship in deep space? Rayn would have to find out.
His exhaustion deepened, and the negatives that he’d been trying to avoid assailed him like biting insects on a muggy night in the wetlands. Ryol. Rayn gave a silent sour laugh at the irony. He himself had told Ryol to watch him, and his brother was doing just that. To the Void, he seemed to know every move Rayn made before he made it. Even if Rayn and Sage made it off B’harata, it was a foregone conclusion that Ryol would know of it soon enough. There was no cargo ship fast enough to elude the Grid Recon ships that would surely be sent to apprehend him.
And Cyonne. As much as she had expressed willingness to help him, she was a liability. He was certain she would oppose any plan that would take Sage away from her. And though she would probably suggest it, they couldn’t take her with them. What they had to do was far too dangerous. As much as they could try to keep their plans secret from her, she would insist on knowing where they were going. And whatever Cyonne knew, others, including Ryol, would know soon after. Yes, Cyonne was a definite liability.
Still unable to sleep, Rayn knew only one way to ease his restless soul. As he had the other night, he called for an air taxi to take him to the exit to Outside. Removing his shirt, he wandered down the same road he had before. It was a humid night, but no rain fell, and Rayn watched the sky above him as much as he watched the road. Gray ribbons of lace floated across the eyes of the stars, like a window curtain caught in a summer breeze, and Rayn let the soothing patterns of light and dark numb the problems that tore at his mind.
He passed the edge of the marshy slough as he had the night before and idly wondered if the wetlanders still harvested wild rice in the shallow waters. He ascended a long, winding slope and, breathing hard, dropped to the ground and leaned against the china tree stump. Tilting his head back, he saw a handful of bright stars through a rent in the thickening cloud cover. Don’t give up, Dina. I’ll come for you. I vow it with every breath I draw. I’ll find you, wherever you are.
The fissure in the clouds widened at that moment, and Rayn saw a meteor streak across the small patch of clear sky, only to fade as the clouds stretched to close the portal to the heavens again. A small smile came to him with a memory, something Alessane had said to him, long ago on Exodus, before he’d met Dina.
He closed his eyes, and it was as if he’d never left the desert. It had been a clear, crisp desert night, and he’d just taken the sable-haired beauty as his lover. Coiled in each other’s arms for warmth, they’d gazed, heavy-lidded, at the celestial sphere and had both seen the meteor paint an arc of fire across the clear sky.
“Look, Star, the devil-dragon draws his tail across the heavens,” she’d said, her brows drawn together in solemnity, “casting the dark ones to earth. That’s why there’s evil in the world.”
Rayn, the hard-bitten dens, travel-weary and cynical, had laughed at her little-girl notions. He’d responded to her tale by taking her full mouth with his own and making sweet love to her, but he’d never forgotten her story. The devil’s tail . . .
All of a sudden Rayn knew what he had to do.
EARLY THE NEXT morning, Rayn called Ryol. Not on the commport, but dens to dens, brother to brother.
Ryol, I need the Run.
Rayn disconnected the mental connection as quickly as he’d formed it, but he had no doubt his brother had heard him. Ryol was the most powerful man he knew in Sha’haran. If anyone knew a liaison to the Run, Ryol would. A favor for a price. If the Run were to advertise, that would be their tag line. But officially, the Run didn’t exist. No one knew who ran it or who its members were. But it was real, and Rayn had known of the Run for as long as he’d known his own name.
Sage left for the port, unaware of Rayn’s call to Ryol, and Rayn brooded, waiting for an answer. Too restless to sit inside the house, he walked the dome. He would have preferred the Outside, but a steady shower peppered th
e ceiling high above him, giving no promise of respite in its unchanging rhythm.
He found a small park and wove his way between the trees and shrubs that had been carefully planted and arranged to afford the ultimate in variety, beauty, and harmonious balance. He breathed deep of the rich air, filling his lungs with the melange of fragrances, a welcome change to the usual flatness of the recycled atmosphere.
A rare golden lyra tree was the centerpiece of the park, and he paused beside it. He ran his fingers up and down the smooth, tan bark and raised his eyes to the small disk-shaped silver leaves. He remembered seeing such a tree as a boy, far to the north, when he’d lived and traveled outside the Domes. He’d gazed, long ago, in wonderment at the exquisite tree, and he’d listened. The soft percussion of the downpour had melded with the music the tree made when the wind and rain teased its stiff, paper-thin leaves. But here there was no rain, no wind, and no music. Here the tree simply provided a name for the Dome. Dome of the Golden Bough.
Sadness descended on him that had nothing to do with his frustration in losing Dina. Even if he found her, would he have the capability to find happiness in a place such as this? He’d lived eight years on Exodus, where daytime temperatures were scorching and the nights cold enough to freeze the tears and sweat of the day. It had been a barren world, offering nothing but seas of sand, shorelines of rock, and an alien sun to give light and energy to that which the Synergy, not the Gods, had given life. Living conditions were harsh, and life was a daily struggle, yet he’d felt more at home there than he’d ever felt in his homeland.
Wrapped in thoughts of the past, Rayn paid no heed to the air car that slowed alongside the park. Too late, his sixth sense warned him of danger, and as he pivoted toward the car, he saw four men, all of them wearing black dominos, position themselves to surround him. His mind reacted instantly, and he loosed the ang’nagel, the mental spikes of pain, on the nearest man. But as he did so, he felt a pressure assail his mind like no other he’d ever felt, an overwhelming force willing him to submit. Rayn tried to fight it, but four against one was no contest, and he stood still as one of the men stepped up to him, pressed the anesthetic against his mouth and nose, and caught him as he slumped to the ground.
When Rayn’s mind fought off enough of the numbing effects of the drug to break through to consciousness, the smell of dust and the feel of a cold hard floor against his face were the first sensations to register in his groggy mind. He pushed himself to his knees and quickly took in his surroundings. It didn’t take long. He saw nothing but four walls, a high ceiling, and the bare floor he’d been lying on. There were no windows, no inside handle or control for the door, and the only light came from a small recessed lamp in the ceiling.
“No one, but no one, demands the Run.” The amplified voice boomed at him from high above.
Rayn tried to lock onto the voice, but it was mechanized and filtered, and he couldn’t touch the mind behind the words. “I need their help.”
“Many need help. The help of the Run is not for the asking.”
“Only the Run can provide what I need. I would not have asked had there been another way.”
“And what is it that Raynga D’anthara needs so badly?”
“A ship, legal passage into Synergic space for myself and one other, clearance to all Synergy worlds, and the cooperation of both local officials and the ISD in what I seek.”
Rayn’s final words echoed off the walls, and silence was the only response. He waited, standing, knowing his words had been heard.
Finally, after moments that seemed like an hour, the mechanical voice sounded again. “I can understand why you believe there was no one else to help you. What you ask is impossible.”
“Not impossible. Not for the Run.”
“I’m glad you appreciate our power. The price is equally as great.”
“I know your price. I’m willing to pay it.”
“Are you, now.” The mechanical voice was as chilling as if the words had been breathed into his ear.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
Rayn drew a deep breath. “My life is yours. I will owe whatever it is you ask of me, until I die.” They would never know how hard it was to voice those two statements.
“That is the price. Forfeiture means death. Do you still want our help?”
He slowly exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Yes.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Yes, I still want your help.”
“You will await the decision of the Run. And you will neither speak of nor voice anything of this meeting to anyone. Anyone. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
Gas filled the small room, and Rayn dropped to his knees, knowing the anesthetic fumes would quickly render him senseless once more.
He woke to the sweet smell of grass in his nostrils, and the thin blades tickled his nose until he finally opened his eyes. A lush blue-green carpet was spread before him, and he realized, with a turn of his head, that he was near the golden lyra tree. He sat up and thought about what had happened. Hard as it would be, and as much as it went against the grain of everything he believed in, he knew he’d have to follow their orders. Neither Sage nor Cyonne could know what had happened to him. To tell them of his experience would violate the trust of the Run and would ensure that they would refuse his case.
He stood and, letting the park’s peacefulness assist in calming his mind, buried all thoughts of the Run deep. It was an ability most dens learned early in life, and Rayn was better at it than most. Moments later, confident that neither Cyonne nor Sage would be able to pick up any stray thoughts of the Run without a deep probe, Rayn thought about what he would discuss with them instead.
When Rayn arrived back at the house, Cyonne gave him a concerned look. “Are you all right, Raynga’cha? You were gone for hours.”
He nodded, looking at the time display on his commband. He was surprised to see that almost six hours had passed. “Just tired. I went for a long walk. I’m going to rest awhile. Wake me when Sage arrives, will you?”
“Of course.”
He took the lift to the third level and lowered himself to the bed in the small guest sleeping quarters. It was strange, but he felt a peace of spirit he hadn’t felt since before the news of Dina’s abduction. It was as though with the asking of help from the Run, a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and the possibility that they would turn down his request never occurred to him. He fell easily into a tranquil slumber, and no nightmares interrupted the smooth current of serene sleep imagery.
In his dreams, as in his waking, he never wondered why it was that the selling of his soul had been so easy.
Chapter Nine
Paradise
THE NEXT MORNING Dina and Kyl walked into the stew that boiled, day after endless summer day, in the kettle of Slave Valley. Paradise. It was without a doubt the ugliest city Dina had ever seen.
There seemed to be little permanence to the structures, and most of what Dina saw reminded her of a seedy traveling sideshow. Tent flaps snapped in the brisk wind, and an overabundance of color, like on a painted lady of the streets, did nothing to hide the truth of what was. Merchants, if Dina could call the motley assortment of sharp-eyed children, hard women, and raw-voiced men as such, canted to them as they passed, the mechanical chants offering every known, and a few unknown, manner of inducement to pleasure the mind or body. A few even ran up to them on the crowded street and snatched at Kyl’s sleeve, but one look from the steely eyes was enough to discourage further solicitations.
As they walked on, Dina spotted a few buildings which appeared to be anchored to the valley floor, but even these looked cheaply constructed. Her mind teemed with questions as plentiful as the rabble who ignored the crude walkways and scurried instead like rodents dow
n the middle of the street, or loitered in the path of vehicles, oblivious to all around them.
But Dina knew to hold her questions until later. Before they had entered the city, Kyl had given her strict commands and had made it very clear that he was to be obeyed utterly. She was to keep her hair and face covered as much as possible. She was to walk in front of him and stay as close to him as possible. She was to speak to no one, including him. The fingertips of his right hand kept a firm contact with her backside, and his left arm held the rupter rifle, slung on his shoulder in plain view. Aside from the few foolish merchants, no one bothered them.
The commands, though harsh, had not been given harshly, and she felt not only safe with Kyl, but protected. The irony of her feelings did not escape her. She’d played the seductress to bind him to her for survival’s sake, but instead found herself bound. Kyl wasn’t a huge man, but his strength, command presence, and sexuality were imposing and undeniable. And he’d not only taken her into his circle of protection, but had let her into his heart.
Kyl seemed to know where he was going, and Dina let his hand guide her. At a narrow side street at the city’s core, she turned, steered by the pressure from his arm. Finally, he grabbed a fistful of her cloak and pulled up in front of a small but decently built dwelling which carried no identifying shingle. Kyl rang a buzzer, and in reply to a query over an intercom, answered only with “Alecto.” A second later, the door unlocked, and they entered a small vestibule where they were greeted almost immediately by a tree of a man. Tall, sturdy, and with long, curly hair which seemed to sprout in every direction, he was at Kyl’s side in a moment.
“Alec, my boy, it’s happy I am to see you. But this is unexpected! I heard not a word of your ship docking.” The man’s ageless face bore a genuine smile, and Dina stood back so that the man could slap Kyl’s shoulder.
“I didn’t. We landed in the wilderness. The Tisiphone and Megaera are both gone, Wiggy.”
“Then it’s true. Vaizya’s been boasting in the tappers that he bested you. I didn’t believe it. What of Sandy?”
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