razorsedge

by Lisanne Norman

His head was pulled back, and this time the cup was put to his mouth. He was so exhausted he could barely drink, so much of it dribbled down his chin onto his already soaked coverall.

  “Enough,” said the officer, but the cup remained for a few moments more. “I said enough! Gods, they don’t choose you for intelligence, do they?”

  Through partly open eyes, Kezule watched him thrust the female aside. “You don’t have much time for females either, Kezule, do you? What are they like, your females? Do you keep them in their place? If you ask me, letting them out of the home was the biggest mistake we made.”

  Confused, Kezule blinked owlishly at the interrogator as he moved in front of the light again. He didn’t understand this. The Sholan commander was a female. What mind games was he now playing?

  “Do yours try to run things if you don’t keep then under control? Is that why you dislike them? Pity we need them at all, if you ask me. Don’t you agree?”

  “I guarded several of the Emperor’s wives on Shola,” Kezule said, trying to keep his thoughts straight. “My sacred trust, to see all the female young were killed. Only males were to live.”

  “You killed the daughters, eh? Why was that? He got enough females, then, this God-King of yours?”

  “Daughters could be taken, impregnated by other males to set up rivals,” he mumbled. Why the interest in females all of a sudden? “Daughters given only to those worthy. My wife is one.”

  “Your wife?” He could hear the surprise in the officer’s voice. “There was no mention of a wife when you came to us.”

  “Sent her off with the other wives.”

  “To look after your family. Commendable, General.”

  Kezule found this strangely amusing. A laugh escaped him, quickly turned to a prolonged hiss of agony. “Ours only lay eggs and eat— anything that moves. That’s why hatchery needs guards, to save the young.” Talking was becoming an effort that he couldn’t sustain much longer.

  “That’s why you use the females of other species, is it? They aren’t as— hungry?”

  This wasn’t going as he’d planned, he thought through the haze of pain. How had he gotten sidetracked into this? He wanted to feed them false information, make them believe what he said, so he’d make them vulnerable by trusting him. He peered through half-open eyes at the male in front of him. His outline was vague and indistinct now.

  “Is that why you use other females? Because only the chosen ones get mates?”

  “Yes. No. Soldiers don’t have females, they get drones. Female slaves are given as rewards.”

  “Why didn’t your kind come back to Shola, Kezule? You seemed to like our people, you took some as hostages.”

  “Pets. Could mind-read the other slaves. Helped control them. Females useless— they fight too much for amusing troops. Used others.”

  “I didn’t ask that, I asked why you thought they didn’t come back.”

  He sat there, his silence lengthening until his head was rocked with an open-handed blow. Fresh pain burned his cheek, and as his head hit the back of the chair, it began to pound. He closed his eyes, tasting blood in his mouth again.

  “Too much trouble with telepaths,” he mumbled. “We grow laalquoi other worlds, don’t need this one.”

  “Laalquoi. What’s that?”

  “Herb. Use it to honor Emperor.” Something solid now. A question he had anticipated. “When eat, use it.”

  “We must stop now, Brother.” A new voice, one of the other officers. An expletive from the interrogator.

  “Take him back to his room. She can clean him up!” he snapped.

  He passed out as he felt the restraints round his wrists and ankles tighten before they were released.

  *

  Until yesterday, Brynne had managed to avoid the cold that had affected most of the estate. Now, however, he was beginning to feel decidedly under the weather. A call to warn Ross Derwent had not put him off as he’d hoped. Instead, he’d insisted he come over.

  “I’m incredibly resistant to colds and flu,” he’d said. “My lessons are important if you want to progress. You lose enough time as it is.”

  Brynne sighed. “I’ll be over within an hour, Ross.”

  So, an hour later, he was waiting to be admitted to Ross’ rooms at the Accommodation Guildhouse in Valsgarth.

  “You must have smelled the coffee,” Ross said, opening the door to him.

  Nodding a brief greeting, Brynne followed him into the small lounge, sitting down in his accustomed seat on the settee.

  While Ross fetched him a drink from the kitchen, Brynne looked round the room. Nearly every time he visited, Ross had acquired some new knickknack from his wanderings around the Sholan countryside. Often he accompanied him, but he hadn’t been over during the midwinter festivals, so Ross had been left to his own devices.

  Apart from Jack’s quarters in the medical unit, Ross’ rooms had the least Sholan influence of any he’d seen among the Human settlers. It was like a slice of transported Earth culture. Jack’s apartment had become more Sholan since his Companion had moved in to live with him, but Ross had remained true to his own heritage, whatever that was.

  Partially completed projects covered the desk and the coffee table in front of him, a mute testament not only to Ross’ inquiring mind, but his butterfly disposition. He’d light on one idea for a month or two, then when something brighter came along, he’d be off on that trail. It made him a person full of information— but only to a certain level.

  Today, maps lay scattered everywhere. Brynne pulled the nearest across to him. Turning it, he recognized the Dzahai Mountains and the surrounding area. Ross had highlighted Stronghold and Vartra’s Retreat, and from both of them had ruled lines down to the Kysubi Plains.

  “Ley lines,” said Ross, returning with a mug which he handed to Brynne. “See how they connect Stronghold and the Retreat?”

  “Yes,” he said dubiously. “You know my opinion on ley lines, Ross. Just because they exist on Earth doesn’t mean they exist here.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” he chided gently. “I found them, therefore they must exist. That’s what the other lines are. They meet in the Kysubi Plains, and unless I’m mistaken, it’s where the archaeologists are uncovering an ancient city. What do you bet that they find a temple there?”

  “Bit of a foregone conclusion,” said Brynne, wrapping his hands around the mug. It was cold outside, but he hadn’t realized how cold. His fingers felt stiff and frozen. At least the heat from the mug was helping. “Most major cities have at least one temple in them.”

  “You’re right,” Ross nodded, “but I fully expect this to be a temple to Vartra.” His tone was one of pride.

  Brynne frowned as he looked at his self-appointed tutor. Thinning, shoulder-length hair framed a face past its middle years, one wrinkled and browned by sun and wind alike. Pale blue eyes set on either side of a long, aristocratic nose regarded him expectantly.

  “It must be this cold fogging my brain,” Brynne said, “but if all this earth energy you keep on talking about is there, how come it’s linked to Vartra and not Ghyakulla, their Green Goddess? Surely Vartra’s an improbable planet deity.”

  “On the face of it, perhaps, but He is Ghyakulla’s Consort. What should be more natural than that here the planet should be masculine instead of feminine?”

  “I think you’re using a reverse logic. You’ve found a connection, so you want it to work. Vartra, whatever legends He may have been blended into, is credited with creating the Shola that exists now, saving His world from the ravages of the Cataclysm. Hardly the equivalent of Earth’s Mother Goddess, the source of all life and energy. How did you— find— the ley lines anyway?” He took a sip of his drink, wishing that he’d stayed at home on the estate. He wasn’t up to this type of discussion. He needed all his wits about him when talking to Ross, otherwise he found himself being railroaded into a variety of mad schemes and expeditions.

  “I dowsed for them on t
he map.”

  “Dowsed? Using what?” He knew about dowsing. They’d used it on Earth in the Cassandra Project.

  “My dowsing crystal of course.”

  “Ross, I hardly think using a piece of Earth quartz on a Sholan map is going to give you any kind of accurate result.” Was it him, or was Ross becoming more fanatical in his outlook these days?

  “You’ll see, Brynne. I intend that we should go out there today. I want you to take me to Stronghold. I know it’s a source of natural power, and I want to have the opportunity to feel it for myself. If it keeps you happy, I can use my dowsing crystal there to prove that it works on Shola.”

  “Not today, Ross,” said Brynne, shaking his head and holding his mug closer. “In fact, not at all. I really shouldn’t have come out. I just hope you don’t catch this bug I’ve got.”

  He saw Ross’ eyes narrow briefly in anger, then he reached out and put his hand to Brynne’s forehead. “You’re burning up,” he said. “Today is definitely off, you’ve got a fever.” He got to his feet. “Let me go and get you something for it. In an hour or two, you’ll be feeling a lot better. You can stay here till you’re over it.”

  As shivers began to shake through him, Brynne looked up. The room was becoming a little blurred. “I can’t stay, Ross. I need to go back to the estate. If I’m down with a fever, then Vanna will be suffering my symptoms.”

  “She’ll be fine, Brynne,” said Ross from the doorway into his kitchen. “You told me there’s Dr. Reynolds out there. If she does take ill, and I doubt she will, he can see to her.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said, putting the mug down and pushing himself up to his feet. “It isn’t what you think, it’s real. We are linked. What affects me, affects her. She won’t actually be ill, just suffering my symptoms, but they need to know that!” He staggered slightly as the room swam around him, then Ross’ hand was there to steady him. “At least call her.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere, my lad,” he said, “except bed.”

  *

  Despite what he’d been told, Ross did not call Vanna and was totally unprepared for the arrival on his doorstep shortly afterward, of a Sholan female obviously on the point of collapse.

  “Brynne” she said succinctly. “I want Brynne.” Her legs began to buckle under her, and she fell forward against him.

  Despite his surprise, Ross managed to catch hold of her and help her into the apartment. He tried to steer her toward a chair, but she would have none of it.

  “Brynne,” she insisted with a ferocity that almost daunted even him.

  “Brynne’s not well, my dear,” he said gently, trying again to lead her to the chair. “And if I may say so, you’re none too well either. You should have stayed at home. He’s in safe hands here.”

  Her hand gripped his arm, claws penetrating through his sweater to dig into his flesh. “Take me to him,” she ordered, ears lying sideways in anger at being ignored.

  She watched Derwent wince as he began to lead her to the bedroom. “This really isn’t necessary,” he began, but she cut him short with a gesture as he opened the door.

  Brynne lay in the bed, his face flushed with fever, tossing and turning in a tangle of sheets and blankets.

  Vanna let go of Derwent and stumbled over to her Leska, sitting down beside him and grasping one of his hands. Despite his attempts to pull away from her, she hung on. Gradually he began to grow less restless and as he stilled, his eyes flickered. Blinking away the sweat, he looked up at her.

  “Vanna,” he said, his hand tightening briefly on hers. “It came on suddenly, I didn’t have time to get home. Did Ross send for you? I told him you needed to know. Sorry. I tried to block it.”

  “You shouldn’t have, it only made it worse for us both,” she said, reaching out to push the damp curly hair back from his face. “Let the block go, I can cope. If you’d spent more time at the estate learning how to use your Talent instead of spending it here, you’d have picked up a few tricks, too.”

  “Don’t scold, Vanna,” Brynne said, letting his eyes close again.

  “I’m not,” she said gently, touching his neck. “You’re just not too good at blocking. You’ve caused us Link deprivation. How d’you feel now?”

  “Better without the nausea and stomach pains,” he admitted, “but apart from that, like death warmed over.”

  “You’ve caught that cold we all had a few weeks ago. Because you came out, you’ve probably got a secondary infection on top of it. You should have stayed home when you knew you were ill.”

  “I’m afraid it was I who suggested he come,” said Ross, coming into the room and sitting in the easy chair. “I thought it was just a cold. You’re his Leska, aren’t you?”

  Vanna stared at him angrily. “Why didn’t you contact me as Brynne asked, Mr. Derwent?”

  “I would have, had he grown worse, but I’m quite capable of nursing someone with a mild fever, Dr. Vanna.”

  “Physician Kyjishi.” Her voice was cold. “Since he’s here, I’d prefer not to move him till the fever’s broken.” As she spoke, she gently probed round the edges of Ross’ mind. That he resented not only her presence but her influence over someone he considered his pupil, was obvious, but beneath that was a shield as strong as any that Kusac and Carrie could use. Reluctantly, she gave up.

  “Of course. Stay as long as you need,” said Ross. “It’s obvious your presence is helping him. It seems I underestimated your dependency on each other.”

  “Kept trying to tell you,” muttered Brynne, beginning to move fretfully again.

  Hush, sent Vanna. It was strange seeing him as the vulnerable one for the first time.

  Brynne tried to laugh, ending on a coughing fit. Rather a reversal of roles, don’t you think? Ironic.

  I said hush, she repeated, tightening her hand round his again.

  “I’m glad you came, actually,” said Ross abruptly, unaware of their mental conversation. “The fever I can deal with, as I said, but the other symptoms… I thought it was some kind of allergy.”

  “Nothing but our being together would have helped,” said Vanna, gently releasing Brynne and getting up. “It’s part of the price of being Leskas. I have to ask one more favor. I didn’t have a chance to collect my medikit before I left. Can I use your comm to ask someone from the estate to bring it over to me?”

  “By all means. It’s in the lounge on the desk.”

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly. She didn’t like the male, never had, and it was mutual.

  “You shouldn’t be so concerned. It’s only a fever,” said Ross.

  “You’re applying Human rules to him,” she said tersely. “He’s altered. He’s part Sholan now, no longer just Human. Human medical facts don’t apply, only our own mixed Leska ones matter.”

  “I don’t see how…”

  “That’s your problem, not mine,” she said with finality. “I’m a fully qualified medical doctor. What’s your field of expertise? Not medicine, that’s for sure. I don’t need amateurs telling me what to do!” With that, she stalked past him into the lounge.

  When Carrie arrived, Vanna had bullied Ross into helping her strip all the blankets off Brynne and change the bed. Though she couldn’t gauge his temperature accurately without her equipment, she knew it was high enough to cause concern. He was also steadfastly refusing to drink, becoming more agitated as she tried to persuade him. She gave up after the mug was batted across the room, spilling the water onto the carpet.

  Ross left her sponging Brynne down with cold water while he went to open the door. His surprise at finding a Human standing there was evident.

  “Mr. Derwent? I’m Carrie Aldatan, Vanna’s friend.” She saw his eyes flick behind her to where T’Chebbi stood in her black Brotherhood robe. “This is Sister T’Chebbi Kymai.”

  “Come in,” he said, standing back and holding the door open for them.

  “I’ll remain in the main room, Clan Leader,” said T’Chebbi, handing her the me
dikit.

  Carrie nodded and followed Ross through to the bedroom.

  “You shouldn’t have brought it by yourself,” Vanna said, relief nonetheless evident in the set of her ears. She took the proffered case.

  “I didn’t, I brought T’Chebbi with me. It’s time I started going out and about again, Vanna.”

  Vanna took out the sampling unit and fitted it on Brynne’s forearm, latching it closed again.

  “I suppose so, but Kusac will kill me if anything happens to you.”

  “What could happen? I’ve T’Chebbi with me. Well, what’s it say?” she asked impatiently.

  “Give me a moment,” Vanna said, punching the keypad on the side of the unit. “Ah, here we are. Surprise, surprise, it’s the same infection we all had. Nothing else, thankfully, so Brynne must just have caught a chill on top of it. His electrolyte balance is off, but I expected that. He won’t drink. I’m going to need a drip to rehydrate him.”

  “He looks very feverish. He’s not going to be as ill as Kaid was, is he?” Carrie asked, eyeing Brynne, who was muttering in his sleep.

  “I shouldn’t think so. I am reading a foreign substance in his bloodstream, though. It’s only a trace. I’ll take a sample to analyze later.”

  “How about you?”

  “Surviving. I’ve got a splitting headache with the effort of blocking his symptoms. I should have brought my own damper,” she said with an embarrassed grin as she took the blood sample vial out of the diagnostic unit.

  “I can lend you mine,” said Carrie, reaching for the small device attached to her wrist unit.

  “No,” said Vanna, putting her hand out to stop her friend. “It’s set for you and Kusac, not us. Thank you for the thought, though. If T’Chebbi wouldn’t mind, I need a rehydration unit from the center. Jack can give it to her, and if she could pick up my damper from the house…?”

  “Sure. Just tell T’Chebbi what you want.”

  “I think the substance you’re detecting could be the tea I gave Brynne,” interrupted Ross. “It contains herbs from Earth. You’ll find it pretty near impossible to analyze, I’m afraid.”

  “You’d be surprised what we can analyze,” said Vanna, going past him into the lounge to speak to T’Chebbi.