razorsedge

by Lisanne Norman

  “Things are different here.” She hesitated. “Would you like to see her?”

  “No!”

  “If you don’t, you’ll never have another chance. You may regret it.”

  He remained silent.

  “Bring her in, Jaisa,” said Vartra.

  Jaisa looked uncertainly from one to the other.

  “Do what the God says. Why change your habits for me? I’m nothing, not worthy of any consideration.” He was angry beyond measure with both of them.

  When she’d left the room, Vartra turned to him. “Stop getting this out of proportion, Tallinu. Many people have given their lives to save Shola from the Valtegans— your father for one. What you’re being asked to do is nothing by comparison.”

  “You’ve played games with my mind since the beginning, Vartra. It would have been easier to die than to live with some of the things you’ve put me through! And my father’s not dead,” he said. “You can tell Zylisha that her sister and Rezac are still alive in our time. They survived in some kind of Valtegan cryogenic unit.”

  “They’re alive?”

  “I just said so,” he snapped. “They’re captives on a world called Jalna. In a few months we’ll be heading out there to rescue them.”

  “By all the Gods!” It was Vartra’s turn to be shocked.

  “He sent a message for you. He said your plan worked.”

  “You see?” said Vartra, catching hold of his arm. “This was all necessary! Without my work they wouldn’t have had the abilities to defeat the Valtegans! I just wish I’d gotten it right from the first.”

  “They left before we came here. Our visit didn’t affect that outcome at all.”

  “I meant my initial work. What you carry now will set those first errors right, and what you gave to your daughter will save the lives of countless generations of unborn cubs!”

  Kaid grunted in reply. Whatever the logic in Vartra’s arguments, it didn’t excuse his actions.

  The door opened and Jaisa came in holding the child. “Come and see her,” she said, walking into the center of the room where the light was brighter.

  “A look won’t hurt, Tallinu,” said Vartra. “The cub has done nothing to earn your anger.”

  Reluctantly, Kaid got to his feet. He stood looking down at the sleeping infant.

  “She’s like you,” she said. “Your eyes.”

  “Don’t you mean Rezac’s?” he asked. The words were said and regretted before he could stop them.

  Startled, she looked up at him. “Not Rezac’s, yours. His eyes were lighter.”

  “I didn’t mean to say that,” he mumbled, reaching a tentative finger down to touch the cub. An emotion he couldn’t name flitted through him, then was gone. He’d never known Dzaka as an infant. Too late he heard the footsteps behind him and felt the hypoderm pressed to his neck.

  As he began to crumple, Tiernay caught him. He felt himself being lifted and placed down on the treatment bed again. Gradually his consciousness began to fade.

  The memory ended, spinning him back to his bedroom. He was lying on his back, looking up at the concerned faces of Lijou, T’Chebbi and Kha’Qwa. He barely saw them through the red mist of his rage. Like a coiled spring, he launched himself off the bed, landing beyond them.

  “Kaid, calm down,” began Lijou, keeping his voice even. “It happened weeks ago. You came back safely.”

  “He called me back to the Margins, Lijou! He used me— so did she!”

  “Only to save lives, he made that clear. He sent you back with the corrected genes.”

  “I trusted him and he betrayed me! In Vartra’s name, Lijou, they stole from my body, created a cub!” He stopped, realizing what he’d said. “In Vartra’s name! He’s no better than a criminal,” he snarled, heading toward the door. “He’s a sham, not a god! It’s all lies and deceptions!”

  “Stop him!” Kha’Qwa tried to reach the door before him.

  Kaid flung her aside as he ran through the open doorway out into the lounge.

  “He’s heading for the temple,” said Lijou, running over to where his mate had fallen. “I’ve alerted the guard. He’s got to be stopped!”

  “I’ll stop him,” said T’Chebbi, grabbing her belt from the chair by the door as she left. “Call off the guard, Lijou.”

  *

  Thankfully, the building was nearly empty, most of the Brothers being involved in the hunt or preparations for the evening. There was no sign of him, but she could track him by his scent. As she raced along the corridor, she cursed herself for not seeing this coming. She’d sensed danger, that was what had made her head out to see him in the first place. Judging by what had subsequently happened, she’d triggered his memory and thereby created the danger instead of averting it.

  Reaching the top of the staircase, she saw the flick of his tail as he rounded the corner to the temple doors. In the distance, she could hear the approaching footfalls of the guards and knew she was unlikely to reach him first. Dropping onto all fours, she leaped outward, beyond the stairs, praying for a safe landing.

  She cleared the flight of steps but landed awkwardly in front of the guard, bringing them up short in confusion. As she staggered to her feet, she drew her gun, baring her teeth at them.

  “He’s mine! I’ll take him,” she snarled before she stumbled into the temple, slamming the door behind her.

  T’Chebbi stood for a moment, looking and listening. He could be anywhere. Then she saw him, standing a few meters from the statue, oblivious to anything but his own rage.

  “You two-faced, tree climbing bastard of a jegget! You lied to us! You used us for your own ends and pretended it was for the good of Shola!” he roared as he took hold of one of the heavy iron braziers and began rocking it. “You’re not a god! You never were! Just a male who decided to play god with innocent lives! How many did you kill, Vartra? How many more will suffer just to see your will done?”

  As he paused for breath and to get a better grip on the brazier’s stand, T’Chebbi called out to him.

  “Tallinu, step back from the brazier! I can’t allow you to damage the temple!”

  Like one demented, he ignored her, continuing to pull at it until it began to topple. Dancing back out of the way of the burning coals, he headed for the other side.

  “Tallinu, stop, or I’ll shoot!” she yelled, watching in horrified fascination as the fire tumbled across the flagstones to the floor-length seasonal tapestries that hung between the pillars.

  She looked back at Kaid. He was standing beyond the righthand brazier, pulling on the panels that hung there. Taking careful aim, she sent a bolt of energy to hit the floor centimeters from his feet. Chips of stone flew into the air, and she saw him flinch as one hit him. He took no notice and continued to haul on the tapestry.

  “Tallinu, stop!”

  She heard a ripping sound as the panel came loose at one corner. Behind her, the door was pushed open. She had no time and no choice. Her shot hit him cleanly on the shoulder. He collapsed forward onto the tapestry, his weight finally dragging it and its retaining pole to the ground on top of him.

  *

  Killian hadn’t been lying. The best part of a week had passed before the weather had cleared up enough for them to undertake the salvage trip into the mountains. Because of his specialized knowledge, Rezac, heavily cloaked and hooded in an effort to conceal his alienness, had accompanied Kris and Davies.

  The trip had taken several days as the only device they’d had to cut the laser free from the ship’s chassis was the energy gun Davies had brought with him. Thanks to it, other tools weren’t in short supply: it made quick work of the Valtegan’s locked toolbox.

  The wagon they’d taken with them hadn’t been large enough to transport all they thought they’d need back to Kaladar. A second pile of less essential items had been left stowed safely in the rear of the gutted vehicle. Once they’d delivered the first load, the cart and the guards would return for it.

  The main room
of their suite now looked more like a machine shop than a living area in a medieval castle. Carefully and painstakingly, they all helped to disassemble the boards and control panels they’d found, drawing detailed plans of where each component went. The days were short and no matter how many candles were lit in the chamber, there wasn’t enough light for them to continue working after nightfall. This suited them as it delayed the work even more. They had to make this spin out long enough for help to reach them.

  Killian visited them daily, usually before he sat in judgment in his main hall. He’d inspect their progress, asking questions of them in an effort to understand what they were doing. Their main problem was lack of tools and it wasn’t uncommon for either Kris or Davies, in the company of a couple of guards, to go down to the blacksmith’s forge to request either adjustments to tools the smith had already made, or to ask for new ones. Trying to carry out the precision high-tech work that they needed to do with the tools they had was rather like trying to tie a knot in sewing thread wearing thick mittens— nigh on impossible. At least, after he’d seen the small selection of tools they’d salvaged from the Valtegan scouter, Lord Killian appreciated their problems, and the delay.

  The evenings they used for planning not only how their finished weapon would work, but also an escape. By common consensus, among themselves they spoke in Sholan, knowing it was a language that the Jalnians had never come across before. That evening, while Rezac and Davies tried to explain what they were trying to achieve to Kris, Jo sat by the fire talking to Zashou.

  It was difficult for any of the Humans not to be aware that there was an armed truce between Zashou and her Leska. Like Jo, Zashou was nontechnical by education and though both of them could follow instructions when it came to helping assemble this monster of a weapon, they were unable to help the rest of the time.

  Knowing how intolerable the couple had found their captivity with the Valtegans, Jo encouraged the other female to talk about her world. She was beginning to find herself fascinated by the Sholans and their culture.

  “What was it like, living under the Valtegans?” she asked.

  “On Shola? We saw very little of it,” Zashou said, drawing her chair closer to the fire. “We were living in the monastery on my family’s estate, guarded by Goran and his people.”

  “Goran?” asked Jo, leaning forward to throw some more wood on the fire. A shower of sparks fluttered up the chimney toward the night sky above.

  “Chief of security. He protected us from discovery by the Valtegans and decided when we could go out to Nazule to get supplies, that sort of thing.”

  “Were you part of the monastery?”

  Zashou laughed, making Rezac look instantly over in her direction. Jo watched him frown then look away hurriedly. Zashou had obviously disapproved of him taking an interest in their conversation, but why? It was innocent enough. She sighed inwardly before concentrating again on what the other female was saying.

  “No. A group of students were acting the part of the acolytes. We— there were only the six of us, Nyaz, Tiernay, Jaisa, Rezac, Shanka and myself— were working with Dr. Vartra on his gene enhancement program. Until the Valtegans decided to round up all the telepaths, we lived in rooms on the ground floor. Goran had guards patrolling outside all night and if anything suspicious was spotted, he’d have us awakened and we’d hide down in the lab in the old mine. For about a month before we were captured, it was so unsafe that we were actually living down there as well.”

  “How long were you in hiding?”

  “Nearly a year, but it wasn’t all bad,” she said. “There were one or two good times in the early days. We went on a shopping trip to Nazule that first winter, to get warmer clothing. It was freezing down in the labs despite the heating system they’d rigged up. It was on that trip that we saw them collaring telepaths for the first time.”

  “Collaring?” Jo asked.

  “It’s easier to tell you what happened,” Zashou said. “Goran was leading our little expedition. As well as me, there was Rezac and Tiernay.”

  *

  “You drive,” said Goran, throwing the keys to Rezac.

  The drive down to the plain had been uneventful, but things had been different once they reached the city.

  As they drove through the streets to the center, Zashou realized that Goran hadn’t been exaggerating about the number of Valtegans currently in Nazule. Every major street had armed soldiers at each junction carrying a device they assumed was a sensor of some kind because they were scanning the Üxwpassersby.

  The car stopped at traffic flow controls. Across the road, one of the scanners started beeping loudly. They watched as the Valtegran identified a Sholan who was then surrounded and dragged, none too gently, over to the scanner where the reading was checked.

  “He’s a telepath,” said Tiernay, leaning across Goran to look out the window. “I can hear him broadcasting for help. We’ve got to do something, Goran!”

  “Sit still,” ordered Goran, hauling him back into his seat. “Keep your minds still, for the Gods’ sake! Don’t answer him, or we’ll be caught, too.”

  “Dammit, we can’t just sit here and…” began Tiernay angrily as the traffic signal changed.

  As they drove on, they saw the Sholan telepath having a metallic collar placed around his neck.

  “I want one of those scanners,” muttered Goran, turning round in his seat to watch the tableau as they drove off. “I reckon that male up at Stronghold is working on a signal blocker. We’ve got a contact with someone at one of the major electronic labs in Khalma. She should be able to come up with something if we can get a sensor to her.”

  “We should have done something,” muttered Tiernay, subsiding back into his seat.

  “We will. We’ll find a way to block their scanners,” said Goran. “That way, we risk fewer lives. What did you want us to do? Attempt to rescue him in the middle of the city? Risk not only our own lives, but those of all the bystanders? I thought you were the one who didn’t like violence!”

  “We’re here,” said Rezac, effectively ending the conversation as he pulled into the parking lot for the store. He parked as near the entrance as he could, turning off the engine.

  “If there’s any trouble, those who can, get yourselves out of here and back to the shrine. No sense in us all getting caught,” said Goran as they headed toward the entrance.

  It was an in-and-out job. The items they wanted had been ordered in advance and all they had to do was collect them from the pickup point. As they stood waiting in the short line, Zashou caught sight of the armed Valtegan standing on the landing halfway up the stairs to the next level.

  “Goran,” she said, touching him on the elbow and nodding toward the stairs.

  “Saw him, and the one by the rear exit,” Goran said quietly. “Don’t look at him, and he’ll not notice us. We’ll be out of here in a few minutes.”

  *

  By the time they reached the main road from Nazule to Khalma, a roadblock was being set up. Three Valtegans accompanied by a Sholan Protector were supervising a group of Sholan workmen who were building a gatehouse and barrier across the road.

  “Restricting civilian movements now,” muttered Goran as Rezac slowed down. “Looks like this may be the last of your trips into town.”

  As they approached him, the Protector signaled for them to stop. Rezac lowered the side window.

  “Play it real easy,” muttered Goran. “We don’t want any trouble.”

  “The Overlord has ordered that from today all vehicles entering or leaving the towns must have a pass,” the Protector said to Rezac. “From tomorrow, if you want to travel out of Nazule, you’ll have to apply to the Public Communications Office. If your journey is deemed necessary, you’ll be issued with the relevant one. Where are you bound for?”

  Goran leaned across Tiernay. “Officer, we come from the monastery. We get our supplies and mail in Nazule twice a week. We’re returning there now.”

  T
he Protector pulled out a pad and scribbled on it. Tearing the leaf out, he handed it to Rezac. Goran took it from him.

  “That temporary pass will get you into Nazule on your next trip. Apply then for your permanent one.”

  “What’s this all about?” asked Goran, jerking an ear in the direction of the three Valtegans who stood with guns trained on them.

  “Freedom fighters,” he said shortly. “They’re becoming a problem.”

  “How’s this going to help?” asked Tiernay.

  “Look youngling, I have my orders,” growled the officer in a low voice. “I like it as much as you do. Now get going before that lot become curious. Never make them curious about you if you value your lives. Go.” He stepped back and waved them on, leaving Tiernay with his ears flicking in acute annoyance.

  “Got Sholan failings like the rest of us, after all?” said Rezac, mouth open in a slight grin as he drove off.

  Tiernay growled, showing his teeth.

  “Shut it!” snapped Goran. “Did any of you use your brains enough to try and pick up his thoughts?”

  “Yes,” said Rezac. “The Valtegans think that the restrictions will cut down the raids. The Protector’s afraid it won’t and that the Valtegans will start retributive action.”

  “It won’t stop us,” growled Goran, “and the lizards have already started revenge killings. Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped at Tiernay. “Either we let them grind us into the dust, or we die fighting to be free. You wouldn’t be with us now if you were one of the rhakla! Harden yourself enough to face reality, boy. You don’t have to stop caring, just don’t let it touch you too much.”

  “Like you and him?” Tiernay asked angrily, jerking his head toward Rezac.

  Goran and Rezac exchanged glances.

  “Not like us,” said Goran, his tone quieter. “Our type fights for the new world, yours and hers builds it.”

  *

  The rest of the journey was made in silence. Goran headed off immediately for the caverns to contact his people on the outside to exchange the news on the upsurge of Valtegan activity in Nazule. Zashou, Tiernay, and Rezac were left to unload the parcels. Dusk had fallen, and it was beginning to freeze.