Crimson Rain

by Jaye Roycraft

  “Of course I want to help him! Why wouldn’t I? Gods, he’s my blood! But I won’t lose you in the process,” cried Cyonne.

  “And you won’t,” replied Sage firmly.

  “You don’t know that. It’s far too risky. You’ll be caught, and with the record you have, you know they won’t show you any leniency.”

  “But you’d have Rayn take those same risks alone, without help.”

  “It’s his quest, not yours.”

  “Think a moment, Cyonne. Think what it would feel like if roles were reversed. If you had been the one captured and I the one determined to find you? Wouldn’t you want Rayn to help me?”

  “That’s not fair. That isn’t the case. It’s this set of circumstances we’re dealing with, not a hypothetical one.”

  “You don’t think it’s fair because you know what your answer would be. You would want him to help me.”

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter what I think, does it? You’ll go no matter what.”

  The lift settled on the ground floor with a hush, and the ornamental gate opened. Sage looked at Rayn with brows raised, while Cyonne’s sea green eyes spat at Rayn like surf crashing on a beach.

  “Cee . . .”

  “You don’t have to say anything, Rayn. It’s not your fault. And please come in. I’m not mad at you.”

  “Thank the Gods.”

  The green eyes foamed and frothed.

  “And you shouldn’t be mad at Sage. If he wasn’t the kind of man who was willing to help a virtual stranger, you wouldn’t love him the way you do.”

  “Thank you, cousin, for your insight, but save your cool logic for your journey, because it doesn’t make me feel any better. If you’ll excuse me.”

  She swirled from the room like a tiny cyclone, and Sage let out a long sigh while Rayn let out the breath he’d been holding.

  “She’s always been a passionate woman,” said Sage with surprising mildness.

  “I remember her temper. It’s nice to know she hasn’t changed in twenty-four years.”

  Sage’s serious mouth twitched in a semblance of a smile, and he nodded toward the dining area. “Help yourself to some frycakes, Rayn. I had Cyonne make them before our, ah, discussion began.”

  “Did you tell her that you plan on going with me, or did she pick it up?”

  “I could see she was close to suspecting the truth, so I told her.”

  The two men ate in blissful silence, then retired to the second level.

  “Let’s put aside our discussion of a plan for now and talk about what we can do on our own, and what we need help with. How familiar are you with ships?” began Rayn.

  “Well, I’m an expert at loading and unloading them. The times I’ve been in space I’ve paid attention. But I’m no astrogator. If a problem were to arise involving engineering or navigation, I’d want someone around with more knowledge than I have.”

  “I feel the same way. It’s agreed, then. We’ll need help. Any ideas?”

  “There are men for hire. Many are ex-Conductors. They know their business.”

  “Start putting feelers out for such a man. Discreetly, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Sage.”

  The man brushed his long hair from his face and raised his gaze to Rayn’s.

  “Why would you risk all this for me? For someone you’ve only known a few days?”

  “You’ll have to touch my mind for that, cousin. I don’t think I could put it into words.”

  Rayn nodded and held out one hand, palm upward. Sage responded with a dip of his head. Rayn closed his eyes, stretched his mind out, and once again reveled in the hot touch. Sage allowed him ingress to his mind, and this time Rayn probed deeper than he had during their introductory touch. He moved the probe beneath the surface layers and lingered. Here, neither individual thoughts resided, nor mere theatrics of the mind, subject to will or falsification, but deep-seated passions of the soul, the kind that rule decisions toward good or evil, love or hate. They weren’t stationary, but swirled around Rayn’s probe like restless clouds, borne this way and that by powerful hidden currents. One stream was desire, not physical desire, but a yearning to reach . . . something. Another stream was honor, and yet another love of family. But underneath it all was an edge—a distress begging to be righted, like a minor chord straining for resolution.

  Rayn withdrew the probe and nodded his head. He understood. It was simply something that Sage had to do, just as surely as Rayn had to. He opened his eyes. Once again, no discussion of what the probe revealed was necessary.

  “Cyonne will understand,” said Rayn.

  “I hope so. When her temper burns, so do the meals around here. It’s easy to see that the two of you are related by blood.”

  Rayn grimaced at the good-natured jibe, but knew he couldn’t dispute it. The men talked long into the evening when Rayn unexpectedly heard a familiar Voice in his mind.

  Rayn.

  Yes, brother.

  Meet me at the House of Darkness. Come alone.

  Now?

  Yes, now, brother. Be there in an hour.

  As quickly as it had filled his mind, the Voice was gone.

  “Sage, I’m going Outside. I slept earlier today, so I’m not tired yet. It’ll give you and Cee a little privacy.”

  “You don’t have to, you know. We have all the privacy we need up here,” replied Sage, tapping his temple.

  Rayn smiled. “Nevertheless, you’ll have the place to yourself. Besides, I could use some air. All right if I borrow your air car?”

  “Sure. Just be careful.”

  “Worried about the car? I think I can handle it.”

  “No, cousin, I’m worried about the box of firecrackers in the driver’s seat.”

  “Funny. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep a cool head, but I think you’re in for more of a battle right here.”

  “Um. Well, if the frycakes aren’t black tomorrow, you’ll know I was able to talk sense into her.”

  Rayn grinned and headed down the lift. Donning a long weather coat, he stepped from the house into the well-lit dome interior. He drew a deep breath, then shook his head at the silly habit, learned years ago when he had welcomed the sweet feel of rain-washed air after being cooped up inside for hours. Now, his lungs were greeted by air that was so perfect in its composition, temperature, and humidity as to be as bland as watered-down tap in a cheap ale house.

  Rayn started the small air car and hovered the machine gently for a moment, thinking about his destination. Though he well knew where the House of Darkness was, he wasn’t as sure about his knowledge of the Dome of the Golden Bough. With a resigned sigh, he entered his destination into the car’s auto-navigator, and on the screen detailing Sha’haran, the quickest route immediately glowed at him in red. He guided the car into the travel corridor, and with the lights of the dome and the navigator easing his trip, Rayn’s mind wandered.

  His brother wouldn’t call to him this late or ask to meet him at such a remote location unless the matter were of the utmost importance. The Run. It had to do with his request of the Run—he was sure of it. Not even a day had passed since his abduction and encounter with those he could only assume worked for the Run. Had they reached a decision so quickly? The passing of but a handful of hours seemed to Rayn to be a bad sign. Even though Rayn was anxious for action, he realized that serious consideration of his request would most likely be debated and carefully thought out by numerous members of the Run over a number of days.

  Rayn had taken a huge gamble calling Ryol in the first place. His brother now knew of his desire, and if not in possession of all the details, knew Rayn’s general goal, destination, and what he sought in resources. If the Run were to turn down his request, Ryol would know where to start looking for Rayn w
hen he came up missing. His life was very literally in the hands of his older brother. It was a feeling Rayn didn’t like.

  He slowed the car to a hover at the dome exit to the Outside and dutifully scanned his arm ring, giving his destination as M’tariel, the province in which the House of Darkness lie. Leaving the dome behind, the turbid blackness of a stormy night engulfed the air car, and whips of rain lashed the vehicle. Behind him, the Domes glowed like celestial bodies fallen to earth, but their lights blurred in the rainfall and quickly faded. The auto navigator alerted Rayn to the proper altitude and speed for the Outside travel corridor, and the radar and weather monitor on the car switched automatically to the Outside setting. Rayn checked the auto-navigator for his estimated arrival time, and saw that he would better the hour deadline by several minutes. Comfortable with driving in a storm, he nevertheless concentrated on the operation of the vehicle and stemmed the meandering of his thoughts.

  Rayn slowed the vehicle as the navigator’s computer voice announced approach to the destination. The powerful beams of the air car caught the low structure as the car settled to the earth, and Rayn’s heart caught in his throat at the sight. The building, built centuries upon centuries past, was constructed solely of stone in the shape of a squat beehive and was without windows, chimneys, or loopholes. A single small doorway was the sole entrance and exit. Even in a storm, the dark hump of stone was hardly a welcoming refuge, yet Rayn felt a strange pull exerted on him by the small oratory.

  According to legend, the ancients had used the House of Darkness to practice the m’riri, the art of meditation that revealed the proper paths to prudent living. It was said that the total darkness shut off distractions of the senses so that the mind could dominate over all. It was said that men used to lie on the cold stone floor on their backs for hours, without food or water, and considered it a privilege. It was said.

  Now, a shrine only to a few, the House yet survived. It was a sharp contrast to the domes of modern times, and a reminder, to those who thought of such things, that life on B’harata was not always as it was today.

  Though Rayn’s mother had preferred performing the ritual of m’riri out-of-doors, she had still brought Rayn to the House on several occasions when he’d been a young boy. The m’riri had been a difficult concept for the child to understand, but Rayn had enjoyed the outings, crawling inside the strange structure and playing pretend games until his mother called for him to come out.

  Now that he was grown and understood the m’riri, he looked upon the structure with new insight and appreciation, and as he watched the pellets of rain splatter against the unyielding stone and dribble down the uneven surface, he thought of his mother and of the love she had had for him, so many years ago.

  Rayn’s retrospect was cut off by a light touch. He cursed his carelessness and swiveled his head, surveying the area with both his eyes and mind. Though he saw no one, he knew he was not alone. Shutting down the machine, Rayn slowly climbed out of the car, his senses stretched to their limit. He picked his way over the stony ground smoothed over time by the tread of countless shoes eager to bear their wearers to enlightenment. He circuited the primitive dome and saw his brother perched on the low stone wall that encircled the oratory. Rayn sat next to him, the hood of his weather coat shielding his face from the bulk of the rain flurry that assailed him.

  “A strange place for someone such as you to choose for a meet,” said Rayn, not needing to raise his voice above the rhythm of the rain, knowing his brother would hear him no matter how softly he spoke.

  “You think I don’t appreciate tradition. You’re wrong. I do. It’s just that I let the future guide me, not the past.”

  “Why did you bring me here, Rye?”

  His brother looked at him as if by a sweep of his eyes he could measure the man next to him.

  “The Run asked me to be their liaison. I can speak for them and carry a message to them, but I can’t make decisions on their behalf. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you told anyone of your previous contact with us?”

  “No.”

  “The Run wants more information. What you want is far beyond the scope of assistance that most people desire.”

  “But not beyond of scope of the Run to accomplish.”

  “The question is with what you ask for and what you’re able to give in return, not what the capability of the Run is.”

  “Very well. What information do you need?”

  “What exactly do you seek in Synergic space that you need to get there so badly?”

  “I’m surprised you don’t know, brother. You seem to know everything else.”

  “I prefer to have you tell me.”

  Rayn shook his head at the memories the simple statement evoked. How many times had he said the exact same words to Dina when she assumed he knew everything that was in her mind?

  “Dina was abducted from the cargo ship she held passage on. I want to find the raider who did it.”

  Ryol raised an eyebrow. “You want to find this raider or find her?”

  “He’ll lead me to her.”

  “Do you realize what the odds are against you being able to do such a thing, even with our help?”

  “I know who this raider is. He’s well known.”

  Ryol’s silence in response told Rayn that the odds hadn’t changed any with that bit of information.

  “For the sake of the Gods, Rye, she’s my bond-mate. I have to do it.”

  “So you need an astral ship. Who was the one you wanted to accompany you?”

  “My cousin’s bond-mate, Saynt-Aage Z’andarc.”

  Ryol laughed, the richness of his deep voice rivaling the music of the rain. “A criminal and a reluctant hero. What a pair. And you want the Synergy to allow you passage?”

  “It would eliminate a lot of complications.”

  “Like being caught and deported.”

  “For starters.”

  “I can envision you and the thief stealing an astral ship, but I seriously doubt either of you can pilot one. Am I right?”

  Each of Ryol’s belittling remarks stung Rayn, but he controlled his anger, knowing he needed every bit of his brother’s good will and assistance. Rayn nodded. “We’ll need an astrogator and an engineer.”

  “Is there anything you don’t need?”

  “Your sarcasm, brother.”

  “Touché, Rayn. Where exactly do you plan on looking for this raider?”

  “He was near Ror when he took Dina. That’s the logical place to start. If he’s moved on, it’s likely he headed for Eruthros or Obylon in the asteroid band. Sage spent a long time on Eruthros, and I’ve been to Ror a time or two.”

  “Hmm. Doesn’t surprise me that the two of you are familiar with the dirtiest corners of the galaxy. But I have to say you seem to have done some homework. I’m impressed. Now for the hard part. Tell me what you can do for the Run that’s worth all this.”

  Rayn had anticipated the question and had thought about it. It hadn’t been difficult to come up with an answer. After all, they had already wanted him. “I’ll do what the Sundrion wants. I’ll be an ambassador on Glacia or wherever they want me to go. I’ll recite any speech and promote any propaganda they wish.”

  “But the Sundrion can have that already. All they have to do is threaten your freedom or citizenship, and you’ll comply.”

  Rayn shook his head. “But Dina’s the key. Without her I won’t be nearly as effective as an ambassador. It’s our story, Dina’s and mine, that makes the two of us compelling. The Glacian IIB agent and the dark outworlder dens. Without her I’m nothing.” So true, he thought.

  “So . . . you’re pledging her future as well as your own.”

  Rayn hesitated, then nodded slowly. There was no choice. “Yes.”

&nbs
p; “I’ll convey what you’ve told me. I can make no promises.”

  “Rye. I’m asking you for your help, brother to brother. I know you don’t think much of me, but if you ever felt even the least bit of affection for that stubborn little brother who had a mind of his own, help me now.”

  “I can imagine what it cost you just now to say that. This woman means that much to you.” It was a statement more than a question.

  Rayn didn’t reply. He didn’t have to.

  “You’ll get an answer. I can’t promise it’ll be the one you want. Say nothing of this meeting to Sage, Cyonne, or anyone else. Understand?”

  Again, no answer was needed.

  Ryol took a last long look at his brother, then rose and walked away from Rayn without turning and looking back. Rayn watched the thin streams of water snake down the back of Ryol’s long coat and drip from the hem until the night and the storm swallowed him from sight.

  Rayn bowed his head and closed his eyes. He’d sat and allowed his brother to ridicule both him and Sage. He’d practically begged Ryol for help. It had hurt, and it hadn’t been easy, but Rayn gave a silent prayer of thanks that he’d had the strength to control his anger. There would come a time for fighting, but that time was yet to come.

  Ryol. Rayn would have given anything to know his brother’s mind, but an uninvited probe on this occasion would have been improper, unwelcome, and most likely met by mental guards that would have sought to repel the effort. Would his brother show compassion? Would he merely be a messenger for Rayn’s words, or would he truly make an attempt to champion Rayn’s case? Could Ryol, who had no bond-mate of his own, understand any of what Rayn was feeling? Rayn knew almost nothing of his brother’s life over the past twenty-four years. Was Ryol bitter and lonely? Had he had disappointments with women? Rayn felt very strongly that one reason Sage was so willing to help him was that Sage had Cyonne and knew what it was like both to have her and not have her. How much would the lack of empathy between Rayn and Ryol hurt him?