"That is wise. Then I trust that the female is prepared for retrieval?" Brague asked.
Natre paused--afraid that this otherwise polite conversation was about to turn deadly. "I'm sorry to report that the day after your encounter with the female we knew as Rai Durmah, she tragically drowned."
The Assessor tilted his head. "That's convenient timing."
"Let me assure you, honored Assessor, we seek no deception. I can provide multiple witnesses' testimony, as well as the exact location of the accident for your review."
"What of the male? Is he also dead?" Brague moved side-to-side, legs and belly scraping against each other creating a cacophony of high-pitched noise.
Natre was taken aback by the Assessors behavior, which she understood as indicative of a typical stress reaction. Was he genuinely concerned? "No, he is alive and well. His name is Ponar Durmah, and he is presently at these coordinates." She stepped forward and entered Ponar's exact location via the comm. "He was a brother to the girl and witnessed her demise, which happened at the outpost he's staying at. Perhaps through interviewing him and the Guardians there you will be assured I speak the truth."
Natre again considered whether to inform the poor man of his fate. Would knowing you were about to be a prisoner of the Hegemony be preferable to finding out when it actually happened? Besides, she couldn't risk him fleeing.
"I will withhold judgment until I have had an opportunity to review the facts for myself, but regardless this finding does significantly hamper my research efforts. I may be required to seek out and interview other similar subjects instead."
Natre had the distinct impression that the Assessor was asking for permission. The entire conversation had so far been downright pleasant. However, instead of alleviating her fears, this only made Natre more suspicious. With the force of the whole Hegemony behind him, why was he so, well, polite?
She had never known a Juggernaut to be polite.
"Perhaps if I knew what you were looking for, I could provide it more quickly to you?" Natre asked, hoping for some insight into the Juggernaut's curiosity with Rai Durmah. If Somnu was right and Rai had been a product of Kilawren's experiments... that might explain his interest.
"I noticed certain genetic variances with the female. Perhaps I could have Rai's remains to examine before your people perform your customary cremation?"
Could he be talking about the plague's genetic effects, she wondered? Or was it something else? Perhaps what Somnu had also noticed ... "Unfortunately we were unable to recover her body, but if you are able to locate it, you are quite welcome to run whatever tests you deem appropriate." Even as Natre uttered the words, she knew it was an empty promise. Deep-sea feeders would surely destroy whatever remained of Rai Durmah's corpse.
And if they were able to somehow, against all likelihood, recover the girl's body? What then? Was it possible there were genetic differences indicative of the Methuselah treatments? Anxiety settled as a hard lump in Natre's stomach as she considered the Juggernaut reaction to the Az'Unda colony if they were to discover such a violation of the Hegemonic law.
"Superior Hegemonic technology may make it possible to locate her," he replied.
"I wish you the best of luck in your efforts. May I be of any further assistance to the Hegemony?" Natre asked.
"I will inform you when your efforts are again needed. Your cooperation has been appreciated."
"I am glad to be of service to the Hegemony," Matriarch Natre replied, bowing.
When she stood up the screen was blank. Natre let out a long sigh and then turned to Camille, who was finishing her notes despite looking pale and scared.
"At least they are appeased for now," Natre said. "That's an enormous relief."
Camille nodded. "Do the Durmah know Ponar is being given to the Juggernaut?"
"Their family returned earlier today from Jeweled Cove, so they are still coping with the death of their adopted daughter. I need you to draft a letter to Chieftess Durmah, dated and to be delivered tomorrow, detailing Ponar's delivery to the Assessor. Note what an incredible service he has performed for the Az'Un people, how the Temple will reimburse any and all costs involved in his impending marriage..."
"He's not coming back?" Camille exclaimed.
"My dear Camille," Natre replied, placing a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Although the Assessor was polite, I certainly doubt his intentions with either of the Durmah involve them being returned alive or in one piece. Remember: humans aren't yet classified as a sentient species in their definition. We may converse at length, but in the end, they will treat us as we do our lab rats."
"It's just hard to accept we'd willingly hand him over to be tortured," Camille replied. "I can't imagine such a terrifying experience. Surely you can make another choice?" A single tear ran down her cheek.
"I did not act alone, Camille. The Matriarchs are in full agreement. We either cooperate with their demands, or more will die until they are satisfied. We felt this was our best chance to minimize fatalities," she explained.
"If they ask for the entire Durmah Sept next, will you hand them over?"
"I'd prefer not to speculate on what the Juggernaut will want next." Natre's tone made it clearly evident; this conversation was over.
"Yes, Matriarch," Camille replied. "I'll have that letter ready for you to sign within the hour." The Journeywoman turned and left.
Matriarch Natre turned back to the terminal and summarized her conversation with Assessor Brague in a text message, and then sent it along to the Core. She wanted to go with those who were catching up with Graeber and Bauleel, but her duties here called. For a moment, she marveled at how Bauleel had tolerated being cooped up for so many years as Matriarch. Natre wondered which was worse: a quick death via the Juggernaut or interminable frustration of putting out the seemingly daily fires.
Chapter 19
Bauleel finished her sweep of the area, finding nothing out of place around the Jonquin farm. Moonlight from both Ence and Bruoh illuminated the night, so it wasn't necessary to rely on her enhanced senses to navigate through the darkness. Over the past two days, they had witnessed Terem leaving the farm in secret and then sneaking back in hours later. There was no evidence of any deviant behavior by Terem, no dead animals, no telltale blood, nothing she could connect to his absences. Perhaps he was actually able to maintain in a stable state? Bauleel had seen others endure for a time, but the stable longevity he'd enjoyed was unique to how the plague manifested within him. She again, fruitlessly, wished they'd been able to contain him within the Technician's ward to understand the unique nature of his mutation.
Bauleel approached their camp, and caught a smell on the air, a scent which was all too familiar. Terem.
Rilte had been asleep when she'd gone, but even then how could she have left Rilte alone? Bauleel forced control over her emotions and steeled herself for the worst--at least she didn't smell blood. Not yet.
She stepped into the small clearing they used as their sleeping space. Terem sat on a felled log while Rilte was bound and gagged, lying motionless at his feet. This was no chance occurrence, she realized, noting Terem must have brought the rope with him and waited for her to leave Rilte alone. She knew exactly what Terem had been doing during those conspicuous absences from the farm. He'd been monitoring their daily movements.
"I'm glad we finally have the opportunity to talk. Do you mind if I have a seat?" Bauleel asked.
"Be my guest," Terem replied, motioning to a location some ten feet away from him.
Bauleel took a seat, wary but attempting to display a sense of ease. Rilte's eye's flashed wildly, and he struggled against his bonds, but she ignored him.
"I'm sure you received my message at the outpost?"
"We all did," Bauleel replied. "But I felt that, because of our ... history perhaps we could yet speak candidly."
"And Rilte is here because?"
"He saw to my healing, and he refused to leave my side until I was fully rec
uperated."
"That seems a poor decision, right about now, doesn't it." Terem gave him a swift kick to the ribs, and Rilte grunted through his gag.
"Now Terem, there's no need to punish him for his charity. This is about you, and me, after all."
"True, Matriarch, but he makes a nice bargaining chip."
Bauleel frowned. "I no longer fit that title. You can call me Bauleel now."
Terem shrugged. "But can you still bargain for me?"
"Oh yes. My Matriarchy was never the seat of my power."
"And I'm to believe you're here to bargain? That's why you've been waiting in the woods? It seems more likely you've been awaiting reinforcements for an attack." His hand rested around Rilte's neck. His grip was loose, but the implied threat was clear.
"I was watching your interactions with the Jonquin Sept. Seeing if your statements of seeking a quiet life were, indeed, correct."
"Liar." Bauleel cringed when a trickle of blood ran down Rilte's neck. She'd be better off killing Rilte and Terem both, for the good of all. Wouldn't she?
"Now, Bauleel, tell me how many Guardians are coming, and how soon I can expect them to arrive, or your pet loses an organ. Want to pick which one?"
Bauleel broke out in a cold sweat. She couldn't do this. She couldn't even look at Rilte.
"Four dozen," replied a deep voice from behind her. "Give or take a few more heavyweights of my and Bauleel's caliber. Count on five dozen in total, just to be safe." Bauleel gasped and spun around to meet Graeber's icy blue stare. The hollow tone in his words resonated with her instantly, and she shot to her feet.
"What's happened?" Bauleel demanded. Sorrow hung from every line in of his body and face.
"We're leaving, now." The statement was unequivocal. His eyes, empty.
"As you can see," Terem rose with Rilte trapped under an arm, sharp-clawed fingers at the ready to shred his neck at the slightest hint of approach. "We were just in the middle of something."
"You were just talking yourselves to death, as I saw it." Graeber spat on the ground in disgust. "Look, have your farm, and best of luck with the coming onslaught of Guardians. Bauleel and I have to leave. Now. You're no longer our concern."
Disbelief shimmered in Terem's eyes. "You'll leave me alone, honestly?"
"Yes, but the others won't. You'll need to fight them or get out of this place."
"But they'll follow me. The Guardians always follow. Then they'll fight. They'll never stop fighting. I...I can't stay here. I'm coming with you," Terem replied with wild eyes but a steady timbre to his voice.
Bauleel stared incredulously. "No, Terem, you're still threatening Rilte!"
"Oh, fine then." Terem dumped Rilte to the ground and hastily removed his bindings. Rilte scrambled a hasty retreat while rubbing blood flow back into his hands.
Bauleel moved between Rilte and Terem. "Doesn't matter. I'll kill you before I allow you to accompany us anywhere."
"No, we don't have time for this, Bauleel," Graeber said.
"Why am I not going to kill him?" Bauleel asked Graeber, frustration pounding like thunder through her veins.
Graeber drew her aside so they could talk privately. "Because Kilawren jumped from the fort at Jeweled Cove, killing herself. The Juggernaut arrived and are about to declare Az'Unda critical for their use, our colony defunct, and then raze our population. And because Somnu is accusing us of keeping Rai alive as Kilawren's lone surviving test subject, I have no doubt we'll be flesh interrogated by the Core force being sent here. Then they'd know the full truth. When all is revealed, we'll be executed. Thus, your little vengeance with Terem no longer matters in the larger scheme of things."
Bauleel's heart sank, for too many reasons to process in such a short period. Overwhelmed with the sudden news of Kilawren's death, she fought back inevitable tears. "What's the plan?"
"We leave Terem here for the Core to deal with. It will slow them down."
"If we flee, they'll assume our guilt."
Graeber shrugged. "They may also assume our defeat at his hands. Either way, I don't plan to wait around and see."
"Where do we go?"
"Sebaiya. We grab a colony shuttle and hike it off-world. There are plenty to use. If we get lucky, the Juggernaut won't even shoot us down."
Bauleel fumed. "That's it!" she yelled. She cursed. "You know the chances of us surviving a journey off-world are marginal at best. Besides, we'd not be traveling under the protection of a colony charter. We'll likely be killed by Juggernaut, or captured and sold by slavers. Best case, we'll starve or freeze to death when the shuttle suffers some catastrophic failure." She cursed again. "Besides, we can't abandon the people we swore to protect and flee like frightened insects."
Rilte approached, but Graeber held up a hand to stay him. Placing his hands on Bauleel's shoulders, he rubbed gently. "Yes, we go. After eight hundred some years, we've fulfilled our oaths many times over. We transported the colonists safely, established the settlement against all the odds, and have guided these people to a prosperous and stable culture as best we could. The plague was never our fault, and we persevered despite the challenge.
"We have no power over the Juggernaut, either here on Az'Unda or on a rogue shuttle in space. Perhaps the Core can persuade the Juggernaut that our colony is viable. Or maybe they will lose interest for their own reasons. You need to accept there is little, if anything, we can do to change the present course."
"I'm not willing to sit around here and die just to see how this plays out, or to try and win a battle of wills with the Core. At this point, I'd give us even odds between the Core's law and traveling in a potentially derelict shuttle with no jurisdictional protection. Now pick up your things, get your horses, and I'll get mine. It's a long ride."
Tears ran thick down Bauleel's face. "Yeah, okay. But I'm bringing Rilte. I mean if he wants to come." She couldn't see clearly through her blurry vision to make out Rilte's or Graeber's faces.
Strong arms surrounded her, answering her question with more than mere words. "I'm with you. Now, where are we going?"
Bauleel wiped her eyes. "We're leaving Az'Unda, we'll have to figure out our destination if we survive getting off world."
Rilte smiled, but she could see the fear in his eyes. "You sure know how to show a guy a good time."
At least with his Technician's training, Rilte knew more about other worlds than your average citizen. In fact, he might be more up to date with intergalactic affairs than most Core members. He'd spent his entire adult life reviewing disease research from around the galaxy. His team had even corresponded with scientists on other worlds in their search for the cure.
"Thank you, Rilte," Bauleel replied. "I know your knowledge of other species will be invaluable in our journey, wherever we end up."
"Um, excuse me?" Terem called from across the clearing.
"Oh yeah," Bauleel replied. She walked over to him.
"I overheard you say you're leaving. Are you sure I can't come with you? I promise I won't be any trouble."
The earnest look in his eyes almost undid her. Almost. Her willingness to entertain any sympathy for this creature was a direct result of her state of emotional exhaustion.
"You know Terem, how you sensed something special about me?" Bauleel asked. "Something similar to how you are now?"
His eyes lit up. "Yes!"
Bauleel nodded. For Graeber's plan to work, they needed every edge possible, even if it meant trusting the creature before her. "Can I give you something, something that might help you control yourself better?"
He smiled happily. "I'd be ever so grateful. There are times the voices are so difficult to bear."
"But in return, I'll need a favor."
"Yes, of course, anything."
"Don't tell the others you talked to us or saw us, at all. Can you do that?"
"Yes, of course, Bauleel."
"Wonderful. Now, take my hand, and I'll do the rest."
Terem laid his hand on hers, and Baul
eel let her skin merge with his. She pushed a small portion of her Methuselah-altered blood and immune factors into him, knowing her body would regenerate as needed. When done, she pulled back and let the wounds close.
The Methuselah treatment had kept her and the other Core members safe from mutations all of this time; perhaps it would lend Terem some strength and stability. She'd prefer Terem dead, but making him into a more potent threat to the Core would slow down whoever was on their trail, perhaps enough to make a difference in their ability to escape.
"That was incredible," Terem said.
"What will the impact be?" Rilte asked, anxiety and curiosity warring across his features.
"He should be more stable, for a time," Bauleel replied. "It's not a permanent fix to the mutation, but it will delay the inevitable."
"My thanks," Terem replied. "I can feel it working. Helping me."
"We need to go. Now. According to Raza, they are only two days behind us," Graeber said.
Once on the horses, they headed north until they came to a less-frequented road, and then picked up the pace.
"What do you think the chances are that he'll follow us?" Rilte asked.
"Fair to middling," Graeber replied with a wry smile. "But with what Bauleel did, at least we'll get a head's up."
Chapter 20
Ponar walked along the surf line along the beach of Jeweled Cove, knowing he was one of the few allowed such access in recent years. The Guardians had included him in their search efforts at Graeber's behest, and he was grateful for something to do other than sitting around mulling over his vociferous parting of ways with his family and the Tinker. He had no idea when he'd get back to Raven's Call under the present travel restrictions, but he was in no hurry to see any of them at this juncture.
Dreams Manifest (The Depths of Memory Book 2) Page 15
