razorsedge

by Lisanne Norman

“What is stasis cube?” Killian copied the Human words carefully.

  “The cube you brought here. Inside it, time was frozen for our friends. In stasis.”

  “Frozen?”

  In his mind, Rezac echoed the word. So that was what had happened to them! The last thing he remembered was them running from the Valtegan palace guards.

  The lab! We ran into a laboratory! sent Zashou. The cube must have been there!

  Later, replied Rezac, refocusing on the audible conversation. It’s difficult enough to follow them without getting sidetracked.

  “A person is a stasis cube has no idea of the passing of time,” said Kris, looking to Rezac and Zashou for confirmation.

  Rezac flicked an ear in assent.

  “For them, when they’re released, it’s as if nothing has happened. Rezac and Zashou have also been moved. They’re no longer where they were when they were imprisoned in the cube.”

  Killian scratched at his beard. “How long were they in this cube?”

  Rezac was suddenly aware of Jo’s compassion for them and her reluctance to say more. She looked at them before answering. “We think one thousand and five hundred years,” she said quietly.

  Rezac’s ears flattened in shock and briefly the room began to fade around him. How long? He could barely comprehend what she’d said.

  “A long time,” said Killian, his voice slightly faint at the concept of that many years. “I presume your enemies placed you there. You must be formidable warriors indeed if that was the only way to remove you. Who were you fighting?”

  “A species called the Valtegans,” Jo replied. “They trade at the Spaceport occasionally.”

  Zashou’s sudden despair swept through Rezac. It was all for nothing! We failed!

  Enough! Rezac’s mental tone was harsh.

  Killian shook his head. “Never heard of them. No matter. What were you hoping to find on this crashed vehicle? Weapons?”

  “Information,” said Jo. “Information about the Valtegans— where they come from, what they left behind on Jalna, where they were going.”

  “And did you find this information?”

  “Ah.” Again Jo looked over at Rezac. “Partly.”

  “Obviously you found out what they left,” said Killian, gesturing toward the two Sholans. “But the rest?”

  “No,” said Kris. “We found nothing. The craft was too badly damaged.”

  “There were no bodies. How can such a vehicle move with no one to drive it?”

  “Remotes,” said Rezac. “From a distance,” he added, realizing how inadequate the Jalnian language was to explain technical matters.

  Thoughtfully, Killian sat back in his chair and began stroking his beard while his gaze flicked from one to the other of them. “Now, I presume, you wish to return to the Spaceport and leave Jalna for your own worlds.”

  “That was the general idea,” said Davies, speaking for the first time.

  “Unfortunately that won’t be possible,” said Killian, his tone regretful. “Another blizzard is due tonight and the pass will be blocked by morning. I’m afraid you’ll have to accept my hospitality until the weather improves.”

  He’s lying, Kris sent to Jo.

  We can’t prove it, Rezac replied.

  The only outward sign of both Kris’ and Jo’s surprise at Rezac joining the conversation was a slight tensing of their bodies.

  Good, thought Rezac to himself. At least they’re skilled in concealment.

  Jo’s reply, when it came, was slower and fainter. What do we do, then?

  Go along with him for now. We have no other options yet, Rezac replied while sending a private thought to Kris.

  Later, the Human replied.

  “In return for my hospitality, perhaps you can help me,” said Killian, oblivious to their mental exchange.

  “In what way?” asked Kris.

  “Bradogan, who rules the Spaceport and its surrounding lands, is hungry for power. Those Lords he can’t ally to himself with bribes of off-world goods, he wages war on. It’s only a matter of time till his eyes fall on Kaladar. I want an edge, something to keep him away from my lands. Something like this weapon here.” He indicated the pistol. “You could help me by making more of them.”

  “Those weapons are highly sophisticated, Lord Killian,” said Kris. “They require manufacturing methods not available on Jalna. We couldn’t make them for you, even if we knew how.”

  Killian raised an eyebrow quizzically.

  “We know how to use them, but we don’t know how to make them,” said Jo.

  “You know how they work, you can make them.” Killian’s voice had grown cold.

  “You misunderstand us, Lord,” said Kris. He pointed to one of the guardsmen behind them. “They can use their crossbows, but could they make one?”

  “You misunderstand me. You will provide me with off-world weapons,” said Killian uncompromisingly. “If not that one, then others that fulfill a similar purpose.”

  He pushed himself to his feet. “Escort my guests to their chambers,” he ordered his guards. “Think about it overnight. I’m sure you’ll see the wisdom of mutual cooperation. We’ll talk again in the morning.”

  *

  They were escorted through the curtained doorway out onto an external balcony. The air was bitter as it blew fresh flurries of snow into their faces. Dressed as they were, Rezac could feel the cold hit Zashou and he moved closer to her, holding an arm out in invitation to her to share his warmth.

  He felt her mental retreat as she shied physically back from him. Only a step, but it was enough. Their long sleep hadn’t changed anything then, he thought with a sigh.

  Are they going to lock us in some dungeon? asked Jo, trying to control the chattering of her teeth. Maybe he wasn’t lying about the blizzard after all!

  I don’t think he’ll put us in a dungeon tonight, sent Kris. Likely it’ll be somewhere comfortable. He’s reminding us how cold it is to persuade us that cooperation is worthwhile. If we don’t, then tomorrow it’ll be the dungeons.

  I agree, sent Rezac.

  *

  The two males proved to be right. The rooms they were shown to were in a small tower set near the center of the castle. A suite for visiting dignitaries, or noble prisoners.

  The main chamber boasted a fire almost as large as that in Killian’s private quarters. Opening off it were two smaller bedrooms, both of which had beds hung with heavy drapes and fires burning in the grates. There was also a small closet that served as a privy. In the larger, a pile of blankets and three pallets lay next to the fire.

  Once their escort had left, a search of the suite showed that the exit was guarded. The windows were shuttered, but in any case they were too far above ground level to make escape through them a practical proposition.

  In front of the main fire, the table was set with food and wine.

  “Ever get the feeling you were expected?” asked Davies, strolling over to the food and helping himself to a piece of meat from some type of fowl.

  “We weren’t betrayed,” said Jo shortly.

  Rezac turned to his Leska. “You should eat, Zashou. It’s been a long time since our last meal.”

  She flicked an ear in reply and headed slowly for one of the dining chairs by the fire. He could feel her tiredness affecting him.

  “You, too,” he said, looking at the remaining two Humans. “We must all keep our strength up. No telling when or where our next meal will come from.” As he turned toward the table, he felt a hand on his arm. Abruptly he turned back, teeth partially bared in a snarl.

  Jo didn’t flinch, but she did release him very slowly. “We’re allies of Shola,” she said in his language. “They brought us here undercover to examine the Valtegan scouter. There are four more Sholans imprisoned on Jalna. We have to work together, Rezac.”

  He turned away from her and continued over to the table. Lifting the flimsy knife, he began trying to hack some meat from the cold joint in the center.

>   “You’ve been to Shola?”

  “Yes, briefly,” replied Jo.

  “Where?”

  “Valsgarth Telepath Guild and the Warrior Guild in Nazule.”

  “What about Ranz, on the plains?” He sensed Kris joining him at the table.

  “Don’t you mean in the Dzahai Mountains? I’ve been to Vartra’s Retreat too.”

  Startled, Rezac looked round. “Vartra’s Retreat? So he did go to the temple at Stronghold after all.”

  “The temple at Valsgarth is the main one now, but yes, there’s also a temple of Vartra at Stronghold.”

  “Temple?” asked Zashou, looking up at Jo and Kris. “What has Vartra to do with temples?”

  Rezac watched the two Humans exchange glances.

  “You’ve a helluva lot of catching up to do,” observed Davies sitting down. “On the Shola we know, Vartra is the major god of warriors and telepaths. He was responsible for saving them from the Cataclysm.” He reached out for another piece of meat.

  “He was a person? You knew him?” Jo sat down opposite Zashou.

  Shocked once more to the core, Rezac let the knife fall from his grasp and sat down heavily. “A god? How?”

  “It seems we’ve outlived ourselves,” said Zashou. “You were right the first time, Rezac. Let’s eat. We can talk of these matters later, when we’re stronger.” They can’t tell us much if they were only there briefly.

  “I lived there for six months, Zashou,” said Kris, taking the seat next to Jo.

  “You can hear us mind-speak to each other?” demanded Rezac.

  Kris smiled. “We Terrans have one or two Talents of our own. That’s why I was living on Shola.”

  A small chirrup of sound drew Rezac’s gaze to Kris’ jacket pocket. From its depths popped a white-furred face, muzzle and ears tipped with brown, large eyes glancing rapidly round the assembled faces. A trill of pleasure as it saw Jo, and a sniff of disdain at the two Sholans, and Scamp emerged. Scrambling up Kris’ arm to his neck, it raised its front paws to pat his face then leaped down to the table to run to Jo.

  “A jegget!” exclaimed Zashou. “You brought a jegget with you?”

  Rezac began to laugh. “You’ve got more than Talents if you can befriend a jegget!” Now he knew they came from Shola— and more: as the only other telepathic species on their world, no jegget would go near a person it didn’t trust. In fact, the little creatures were notorious for that. Get a nest of jeggets in your barn, and you’d never get rid of them! They knew when you were coming, knew where your traps were.

  Scamp, meanwhile, was twining himself and his dark-tipped bushy tail round Jo’s neck, chirruping and purring for all he was worth.

  Aware of his pet’s feelings, and a large part of the reason for them, Kris glanced over at Rezac.

  Please, say nothing. The Valtegans ruled Jo’s world, using females like her for sex. I need her trust. If she realized what I feel for her…

  Rezac cut him short with an affirmative gesture. It’s not my business.

  Reassured all was well with Jo, Scamp returned to Kris, looking and sniffing hopefully in the direction of the meat.

  “Feed him,” said Rezac, gesturing at the plate as feelings of ravenous hunger stole into their minds. She doesn’t sense him. Why not?

  Jo is only a latent telepath. She chooses not to train her Talent. She’s a linguist— she studies languages and was responsible for compiling the first Valtegan lexicon.

  So the Valtegans are still at large.

  There are no Valtegans on Shola. Your people came across them on our first colony world, Keiss. They rescued the colonists— Jo was one of them. We don’t know where the Valtegans are now, or what they’re doing, that’s why we’re on Jalna. That’s how we found you.

  Rezac, later, sent Zashou. Catching up is not important. Eating and sleeping is, so is deciding what to do about Killian and the weapons he wants.

  You’re right.

  “How did you avoid Scamp being found when we were searched?” Zashou asked Kris as she tore off a lump of bread from the loaf and handed the rest to Jo.

  Kris grinned as he pushed some small pieces of meat to one side for Scamp. “I suggested to the guard that he didn’t really want to touch me. Strangely enough, he agreed.”

  “They’ll find out soon enough,” warned Davies.

  “I don’t think they’ll care,” said Kris.

  “You said you’d trained at a warrior guild. We had something similar in our time, but it taught you to fight unarmed and with traditional bladed weapons.”

  “Now it also teaches you the use of modern energy weapons. I can strip and maintain most Sholan weapons with the best of them, but build one from scratch?” He shook his head.

  “Davies is the electronics genius,” said Jo.

  Rezac looked at him. “Could you build a weapon?”

  “Depends what they’ve brought here from the shuttle. The good Lord Killian had the craft stripped of just about everything that might have been useful, and naturally, they didn’t know what they were doing!”

  “What kind of vessel was it?”

  “A scouter. Space to ground vehicle.”

  “From a Valtegan warship?”

  “Do they have any other kind?” asked Jo wryly.

  Rezac grinned slightly. “No. Then the scouter will be armed. It will have its own weapons system. We could dismantle and use that.”

  “Should we even be thinking of giving them a weapon at all?” asked Zashou. “I’m sure they’ve discovered enough efficient ways of killing each other on their own.”

  “We haven’t a choice,” said Kris. “You heard Killian.”

  “Besides, it doesn’t have to work for long,” said Davies. “Just long enough for us to get out of this place!”

  “Fuel sources alone will limit its life,” agreed Rezac. “Unless I’m mistaken, there should be a backup battery that stores energy for it to use.”

  “You know a fair bit about the Valtegans, don’t you?” said Jo.

  “Should. We were prized pets of theirs for a year,” growled Rezac, the grin vanishing.

  “You mentioned a palace. What palace?”

  “The Emperor’s. God-King of the Four Realms.” He tried, but couldn’t control his hate and anger at what they’d suffered during their captivity.

  Zashou winced. “Rezac,” she said warningly. “He’s dust now, they all are. Let the rage go.”

  With an effort, Rezac pushed the anger to the back of his mind and refocused on the business at hand.

  “That was fifteen hundred years ago, though,” said Davies. “How much use is that knowledge to us now?”

  “How much can a people change in that time?” Jo asked Rezac.

  “Valtegans, not at all,” he said shortly.

  “You seem much the same as your modern counterparts,” said Kris. “I imagine the basic Valtegan species traits will have remained unchanged too.”

  “Well, you’ll be able to tell, won’t you?” said Rezac, aware his tone was somewhat snappish but unable to stop himself.

  “I was sent on this mission because I understand the Valtegans more than anyone else at present,” said Jo. “Your knowledge is invaluable. Will you both share it with me?”

  “If it’ll help, of course,” said Zashou, glancing angrily at her Leska.

  “Assuming this shuttle is military and has a weapons system on board, then we’ll need to look for it, with no guarantee that the Jalnians haven’t ripped it apart,” said Kris. “That should buy us some time at least.”

  “Agreed,” said Rezac. “However, it will be bolted into the structure of the vehicle and I doubt the Jalnians would have been able to work those panels loose.”

  “Were your people in space when the Valtegans came?” asked Davies.

  “Only just. They arrived without warning and in such vast numbers that there was little we could do to fight them.”

  “So how come you know so much about their Üxwspacecraft?�
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  “I don’t, but I was communicating with those of our people who were on warships in space.”

  Zashou leaned forward to touch Davies on the arm. “On Shola, telepaths were hunted by the Valtegans as live trophies and kept to show how important a person was. Anyone of high standing had a Sholan telepath as a pet,” she said quietly. “That was the crux of their downfall. It took time, but eventually there were enough of us on the four Valtegan home worlds and in their galactic fleet to strike. It was we who coordinated the communications between the ships and the worlds— the slave worlds, too. We gave the order to strike.”

  “To strike?” asked Davies. “You’re supposed to be unable to fight!”

  Zashou shook her head. “Rezac can, for a short time, then the nausea gets to him, too. But I didn’t mean that way. The nontelepath slaves and the other species, they fought. What we had done was to subvert the Valtegans’ minds, cause them to doubt one another, Challenge for position— and more. We used our abilities to destroy them, weaken them for the civil war that followed. We turned Valtegan against Valtegan. So we know them, know their weaknesses— and their strengths.” She shuddered briefly at the memories, still fresh for them, and sat back.

  “Did you say the Valtegans had four home worlds?” asked Jo.

  “Yes, plus some three other slave worlds.”

  She moaned quietly. “Four worlds full of Valtegans! There’s no way we can possibly win against them!”

  “We thought that, but you say Shola’s free of them now,” said Rezac. “It wasn’t how many we killed, it was who we killed. Take out the bridge crew of a warship, barricade the doors, and within minutes you can crash the ship into the rest of that fleet and all for the loss of one person.”

  “That’s suicide on a mass scale!”

  Rezac looked calmly at Jo. “Yes, it was, and it was the price we all, us included, expected and were willing to pay.”

  “You communicated over interplanetary space?” Kris asked quietly.

  “Were we not answered by telepaths from Shola?” asked Rezac. “The skill has obviously lived on.”

  “Those who answered you weren’t exactly Sholan telepaths,” said Jo.

  Rezac frowned. “Of course they were. Who else could it have been? Not Humans— the minds were Sholan.”