TheMorcaiBattalion:TheRecruit

by The Recruit (lit)

“His honor?” The seer seemed puzzled.

  Dtimun glowered at Madeline. “She wrecks bars.”

  “It was only one bar, and the First Fleet is responsible,” Madeline defended herself. “I would never have attacked them if they hadn’t referred to you as a, and I quote, cat-eyed benny-whammer! Sir.”

  The old one laughed out loud. “Our emperor has steadfastly refused to allow our females to serve in the military,” she mused. “But I think he is weakening on this point. Your exploits have even reached his ears.”

  Madeline bit her lower lip. “Oh, dear.”

  The seer held up an elegant, graceful hand. “Not in a bad way,” she corrected instantly. “I am told that his…” She frowned. “I have not the words in standard to explain his personal guards.” She looked to Dtimun for help.

  “According to Stern,” Dtimun said, glancing at Madeline, “emperors on your ancient homeworld, Earth, were protected by a personal bodyguard of great capability. They were called the Praetorian Guard.”

  “Yes,” the seer agreed. “That would be a proper description. The emperor’s Praetorians speak of Ruszel in whispers. They have great respect for her.”

  Madeline was confused, because she’d never been around the emperor of the Cehn-Tahr, or his soldiers; only the kemahtemer, which were dispatched by the Dectat.

  The old seer chuckled at her confusion. “Yes, the kemahtemer also know of you, do they not?” she queried the younger woman, and now Madeline knew that she, too, could read minds. “Nevertheless…”

  A horrible high-pitched scream interrupted the seer. Madeline turned along with her companions to see a small white cobra-looking animal shooting across the green valley. Right behind it was a galot, one of the legendary big cats, native to Eridanus, that roamed the Centaurian homeworld. Centaurians were rumored to trace their beginnings to Cashto, an ancient cat-human mutation, although Madeline found that hard to believe. However, galots were endangered, and on the protected list.

  Which meant that Madeline couldn’t shoot it, even if she’d been able to sneak her Gresham off the ship past the commander. But there was another way to rescue the small, screaming hot lunch that even now, for some inexplicable reason, streaked toward Madeline for protection. There were Meg-Ravens on Memcache. And Madeline knew how to call them. They were natural enemies of the galot

  Without mentioning what she planned to do, she cupped her hands, inserted the tip of one finger into her mouth and made the call of a Meg-Raven.

  The seer watched, astonished, as did Dtimun, when a small flock of the huge, elegant black birds suddenly appeared and swooped down on the racing galot. In seconds, the huge cat was stopping, turning away from the little serpent. One of the Meg-Ravens flew toward Madeline and circled, making its merry cry.

  Madeline, laughing, cupped her hands and made a second call, one of only a handful in the avian language that she’d painstakingly learned on her own after being tutored by the mysterious old Centaurian when the ambassadors had been rescued by the Holconcom on Ondar. The Meg-Raven dipped its wing and then rejoined its friends as they circled and dived at the retreating big cat.

  Beside her, the little white serpent panted. Madeline bent and cupped her hands in front of it. She’d played with the friendly little white serpents on Dacerius and at Benaski Port, where they were sold as exotic pets on the black market. She was fond of them, and had almost bought one. They were as endangered as the galot, and they weren’t predators. They had intelligence and they liked humans.

  The serpent crawled right into Madeline’s hands. She lifted it, to look into its pretty blue eyes. It swayed back and forth, purring, and then rubbed against Madeline’s cheek.

  “Ruszel!” Dtimun called urgently. “Put it down!”

  She was about to ask why when she felt a soft stirring of wind on either side of her. Before she could turn her head, two giant white serpents with blue eyes were suddenly flanking her. They were both hissing. Partially coiled, they were still taller than Madeline. Her body froze in position while her heart raced madly. They were terrifying, even to a human who’d been around serpents, as Madeline had. She’d never seen snakes of such size and strength. One bite and she would be dead.

  She started to put the little serpent down, very slowly, but it refused to go. It leaped onto her shoulder and rubbed against her hair, still purring.

  “Sir?” she groaned to Dtimun, certain that she was about to die.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dtimun started toward Madeline at once. Both adult serpents moved in front of her and spread their hoods. Amazed, as he read their thoughts, he stopped in his tracks.

  The serpents moved gracefully to face Ruszel. For a few seconds, while the baby serpent rubbed her cheek and purred, she waited for death.

  And then, without warning, the two adult serpents moved on either side of her, swayed and purred, and rubbed their heads against hers. The two Centaurians stood spellbound a few feet away.

  The little serpent jumped from Madeline’s shoulder to the hood of the larger of the two big serpents. All three looked at Madeline and suddenly vanished.

  Madeline let out the breath she’d been holding and gaped. “What the…?”

  “And she will befriend the serpents,” the seer quoted, breathlessly.

  Dtimun was in front of her, his great eyes dark blue with lingering faint traces of the concern he’d felt. Involuntarily, his hand touched her long hair.

  Fearful for him, because this was a taboo that could have him spaced by his own people, she stepped quickly back, her expression betraying her fear.

  “Camaashe,” he said softly.

  She’d heard the word before. He used it with humans when fear overcame them. It was comforting, even without a translation. She began to relax.

  “Your concern is not necessary here,” he said, but his lips did not move. “No regulations bind me on my own land.”

  She felt her heart skip at the way he was looking at her. The feelings that kindled were new and frightening.

  “Your…land?” she faltered.

  “Indeed,” the seer agreed, joining them. “Your commander allows us possession of the retreat here, on his estate,” she indicated the stone buildings. “This is an ancient temple. It has been here since far before written history documented it.”

  “It’s very beautiful,” Madeline replied, still fighting to regain her composure.

  “You can call Meg-Ravens,” Dtimun murmured, fascinated. “How did you learn this rare skill?”

  Madeline smiled. “An acquaintance of mine studies them as a hobby. He taught me.”

  There were raised eyebrows from the Centaurians, followed by amusement that seemed out of proportion to the discussion.

  “Effective for rescuing serpents,” Dtimun replied, tongue-in-cheek. “The Nagaashe.”

  Her heart skipped. “Those…were Nagaashe?” Now their visit to the Altair embassy made sense. “How did they vanish like that?”

  “They jump through time,” he told her. “They have a planet, not too many parsecs from Memcache, but we have no diplomatic embassy with them, despite our endless efforts at detente. That was the purpose of our visit to the Altair embassy. The Nagaashe have resources that we need. There is a very small colony of them on Dacerius, in the mountain country, evolved to a diminished size. There are only a male and a female here. This pair has occupied a catacomb on my land as long as the estates have existed. We protect them. Their child, however, was unknown to us. I shall have to contain the galots in a separate compound from now on, to protect it.”

  “They were going to attack me,” she began.

  “Only in the act of protecting their child,” the seer told her kindly. “They rarely produce more than one offspring during their lifetimes. It is why they near extinction. The child grows at a very slow pace, during which it is vulnerable. Poachers have decimated their numbers on Eridanus, where they, like the giant feline galot, originated. Their fangs are said to have healing properties. They were
once killed by the thousands for that reason. Even now, you may find such fangs in clandestine shops.”

  “What a pity, to kill something so intelligent for such a reason,” Madeline said.

  “Yes,” Dtimun replied. He cocked his head. “How is that you have no fear of serpents? Most of your colleagues would have reached for a weapon.”

  She flushed a little when she remembered that she’d had that in mind herself at first.

  Dtimun only smiled. “It was a natural reaction,” he told her.

  The seer’s eyes became narrowed. “He does not allow you a weapon in combat?” she exclaimed.

  Dtimun glowered at her. “Medics may not carry weapons. It is a universal regulation.”

  “Which she disobeys,” Caneese said, amused.

  Madeline chuckled.

  “You have not answered the question,” he persisted.

  “Oh, about the snakes?” She smiled. “My father kept serpents, years ago. I visited him at his station. He had three or four species of snakes in his quarters, which resulted in charges more than once. He always managed to talk himself out of them. His snakes were very poisonous. He taught me how to handle them. Of course, none of them were intelligent, like these white serpents. How did they vanish?” she asked again.

  “They are multidimensional,” he said simply.

  She blinked. “Multiwhat?”

  “Dimensional.” He frowned. “You must have heard of the string and membrane theories. Did you not have theoretical physics as part of your medical training?”

  “Of course. But the super-string and membrane theories are hundreds of years old and, at the moment, out of vogue with our physicists.”

  “We consider it quite logical, that we exist in multiple dimensions that reflect different choices we make in this life. The serpents can travel between the dimensions, an ability our scientists have labored to assimilate. Sadly, it seems linked to an extrasensory organ that cannot be replicated.”

  “Just as well,” Madeline said. “I don’t want to run into another version of myself, or multiple versions of myself. I have enough trouble managing the one.”

  Dtimun said nothing, but his eyes were unusually thoughtful.

  The seer moved forward. “Come,” she said, taking Madeline’s arm with her soft hand. “Let us sip tea and discuss the many anomalies of theoretical physics and quantum mechanics and their application to exobiology.”

  Madeline was fascinated by the woman. She knew Centaurians were intelligent, but this surpassed her expectations. She was happy here, with her companions. She wondered what other surprises were in store for her. But she didn’t ask. Some things, she reasoned, were dangerous to know.

  Caneese asked questions delicately, without overt curiosity. She was graceful and intelligent. Madeline liked her very much.

  When Caneese looked toward the commander and nodded, he rose and left them, walking out into the courtyard.

  Caneese became serious. “You have an…attachment to the Holconcom commander,” she said, holding up her hand when Madeline involuntarily tried to protest. “It is dangerous. Far more dangerous than you realize.”

  “I don’t understand,” Madeline replied uneasily.

  The older woman let out a long sigh, and her eyes were sad. “We are not permitted to discuss certain aspects of our culture with outworlders. I deeply regret this, because the lack of knowledge could cause your death. I must speak in abstracts, but you must try to hear what I cannot say.” Her eyes became a somber blue. “We are not what we seem. You think of us as humanoid because we appear so. But there are differences which are not apparent…”

  “ My feelings were mentally neutered,” Madeline began gently. “I can’t feel…”

  “You must never attempt to lie to me,” the older woman said gently. “It is useless.” She softened the words with a smile. She put her hand over Madeline’s on the table between them. “Your ‘feelings’ may trigger a behavior in your commander which is not subject to his control. Regardless of your inclination, you must never permit him to have physical contact with you…what is it?”

  The younger woman’s breath caught. She was remembering what had happened when the Rojok tried to throw her over a cliff and Dtimun, against all odds, had saved her.

  Caneese was uneasy. “Then it is too late.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Caneese chewed her lower lip, an oddly human action. “Listen to me. You must take care not to be completely alone with him, away from other humans or Cehn-Tahr, and you must never let a male touch you in his presence. Do you understand?”

  “No,” Madeline stammered, and was recalling Dtimun’s odd behavior even at the embassy, when he growled at Taylor. That was long before he touched her in the act of saving her on Lagana.

  Caneese frowned worriedly. “It began without touching?” she said, astonished. “I do not understand, either. The prophecy is quite specific, but there is no way known to science that it could be realized,” she said, almost to herself. “And there is another matter. A far more deadly one. A traumatic time approaches for you.”

  Madeline wondered what she meant.

  Caneese’s eyes became dark blue and intense. “A change is coming, Madeline,” she said. “A great change, a very dangerous change, for you.”

  “Can you tell me what sort of change?” she asked. “A promotion?”

  The older woman’s eyes became sad. “Is this life that you have so rewarding that you can conceive of nothing better?”

  Madeline frowned. “My career has always been my life,” she faltered. “Our society is very strict. We are chosen for the work we do. It is not possible to refuse.”

  “If you could refuse?”

  Madeline was confused. She bit her lower lip. Involuntarily, her mind went back to the commander and she felt a jolt of emotion.

  The older woman sat straighter. “I see.”

  Madeline met the other woman’s eyes evenly. “You won’t tell anyone that the commander touched me?” she worried. “They would kill him…”

  Caneese caught her breath at the wave of emotion emanating from the fragile creature before her. “Of course not,” she said gently. “Never!”

  She let out a sigh of relief. “I would have died. He told me to throw myself over the cliff and I did. I thought he meant to spare the unit’s pride, to deny the Rojok the power to harm me. He caught me.” Her voice betrayed her wonder. “It was…unbelievable.”

  Caneese looked unsettled. “He told you to throw yourself over a cliff and you obeyed him without protest?” she asked, aghast.

  “Of course,” Madeline said simply.

  The older woman saw it in her mind, saw everything. She looked down at her own hands. “I had forgotten,” she said in a wistful tone, “how very powerful such emotions are.”

  “Oh, the commander doesn’t feel anything like that,” Madeline assured her, flushing. “I’m just one of his people. One of his crew. He’s possessive. Of all of us,” she added quickly.

  Caneese suddenly looked her age. “It is tragic,” she said in a whisper. “More tragic than I realized.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She looked up at Madeline with troubled blue eyes. “You will be forced to make a decision you do not wish to make,” she said heavily. “A sacrifice. I see death.” She grimaced. “I brought you here to warn you, to counsel you. But I can see little of the danger. Only that it involves a hidden agenda.” Her eyes closed. “I had no idea.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Caneese drew in a long breath. “The prophecy is true. I am certain of it. But I cannot see how to resolve what I know with the reality of the present.” She searched Madeline’s confused eyes. “You are so fragile a species.”

  Madeline laughed. “Armed with Greshams, we’re not all that fragile.”

  Caneese wasn’t thinking of conflicts. But this was not the time to instill even more fear. She forced a smile. “There will be a way. There must be. I cannot see it, but
I know the prophecy is not a false one.”

  “The prophecy…is there more to it than you told me?” Madeline asked.

  The alien woman looked troubled. “Yes. You must not ask,” she added very softly. “I have already said too much. You must keep as much distance from your commander as possible, once you leave Memcache. At least,” she amended, frowning, “until I can do some covert research on the problem.”

  “Research.” Madeline nodded, but she looked totally stunned.

  The old woman smiled at her. “We will find a way. We must.” She smiled. “Now, sip your tea and tell me what you think of Memcache.”

  Dtimun returned minutes later. When the tea was finished and the commander stood, Madeline followed suit. “Thank you,” she told the other woman. “I really enjoyed meeting you.”

  “I have also enjoyed it,” Caneese said softly. “We will meet again. Soon.” She paused at the door. “Madeline, if you would not mind waiting for your commander outside in the compound, there is something I must say to him. Something private.”

  “Of course,” she said at once, returning the smile. “I’ll be outside, sir.”

  He nodded.

  She walked out the door and closed it gently behind her.

  Inside the room, Caneese was more solemn than Dtimun had ever seen her.

  “The prophecy cannot concern her,” he said curtly. “You and I both know that what you envision is impossible.”

  “Yes, but my visions never lie,” she replied. “You know that.”

  His face hardened. “What you envision would kill her. That is certain. I rescued her from a fall of almost one hundred and fifty terrestrial feet. In the process, as careful as I was, I punctured her lungs. The wounds would have been fatal, had Hahnson not been handy with his medical kit.”

  She searched his eyes with concern. “You have touched her.”

  His face closed up. “It was unavoidable. I could not let her die.”

  “Of course not. But it began long before that, did it not?” she questioned very softly. “I saw in her mind that you reacted violently when a human ambassador touched her, at the Altair reception.”