It’s all right, his father thought. Bassan felt a hand stroke the back of his head and drew strength from the comforting touch. Shh. Don’t wake your mother.
I woke you, thought Bassan, afraid his father would be angry.
I just got home.
His father released him. Bassan grasped at his arms, afraid his father would leave him.
Bassan, I’m right here. A hand stroked his head. It’s all right. Just a bad dream.
His sight adjusted to the light. Bassan stared at his father’s face, surprised by the compassion reflected in his eyes. Those steel blue orbs were often so cold.
Better now?
Yes, sir, thought Bassan.
Good. Now, let’s get you into some dry clothes.
His father helped Bassan change out of his drenched sleepwear. The air chilled his damp skin, and he eagerly wiggled into fresh clothes. His father retrieved the covers he’d kicked off the bed and tucked them around Bassan’s body.
Think you can go back to sleep now?
Pulling the covers to his chin, Bassan nodded. Yes, sir.
His father smiled and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. Sleep well.
Bassan watched as his father retreated from the room. The moment the door closed, his fear returned.
No, it was all a dream, he thought, pulling the covers tight around his chin. A bad really dream.
Inhaling deeply, Bassan forced his body to relax.
Drent approached Bassan during their break between classes the next day. “My father didn’t even come home last night,” he said. “Did yours?”
Bassan kept his chin down. “Yeah, but it was late.”
“Something is going on. I heard no one’s allowed near the alien ship right now.”
“No one?”
“No one! Something happened yesterday. Something big. And I’m sure it has to do with the power drainage. What do you think?”
Bassan kept walking, unable to form of a suitable answer. He hadn’t picked up anything in his father’s thoughts last night. His only memory of the evening centered on the horrible dreams that invaded his head.
“Hey!”
A hand came down on Bassan’s shoulder. Startled, he stopped and stared at his friend.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Drent demanded, his nose wrinkled as if in disgust.
Shielding his thoughts, Bassan shook his head. “Nothing, I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“Oh,” said Drent, dropping his hand. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
“I just did.”
Free from his friend’s grasp, Bassan trotted toward their classroom. He heard Drent’s exclamation of surprise, but didn’t stop. Clutching his computer tablet to his chest, he entered the room and scanned the rows. One end seat remained in the last row and Bassan hustled to claim it. Feeling a sense of relief, Bassan sunk down in his seat. He wanted to avoid further questions regarding his lack of enthusiasm. Drent wouldn’t understand.
When his classes ended for the day, Bassan felt his mother’s touch.
Bassan, I’ll be there in a few minutes. We’re going to see your great uncle.
Anxiety gripped his chest. Yes, Mother, he answered out of obedience.
He’s doing better and would very much like to see you.
Bassan sighed and stepped outside to wait for his mother. He liked his great uncle. He’d worried when he found out Orellen had been injured in the attack. Picking up on the images in his mother’s mind, Bassan knew what to expect when he saw his uncle in person. He could handle the experience. It was viewing the city of Ktren in ruins after the attack that bothered him.
He said little as their transport navigated through the security checkpoint, pretending to be engrossed with his studies. When the city began to fly by the large windows, Bassan stole a quick glance. He didn’t see any damage. Feeling brave, he continued to watch the sandstone buildings as the transport passed through Ktren.
They rounded a corner and Bassan’s spirits sank. A row of buildings, reduced to rubble, lay strewn across the road. Men and women were working to remove the broken sections, piling the smaller pieces of stone on a large cart. Were there people in those buildings when they collapsed? The thought sickened him.
The transport came to a halt outside a large building. Bassan followed his mother inside and up a flight of stairs. Holding his computer tablet to his chest, he took a deep breath before entering his uncle’s room.
Uncle, I’ve brought a visitor, his mother thought, stepping aside so the occupant of the bed could see him. Bassan moved closer, his gaze on his uncle.
Good to see you, my boy, his uncle thought.
Bassan paused at the foot of the bed. Good afternoon, sir, he thought, trying not to stare at the bandage around the man’s head. At least no blood was in evidence. He didn’t fare well around blood.
I swear you look more like your father every time I see you, his uncle thought.
Bassan nodded, aware of the similarities. His mother touched his face, her fingers prompting him to look up at her.
I think it’s a good thing, she thought, winking at Bassan. His mother’s hand dropped and she turned to face her uncle. We can’t stay long. The base is still on full alert. And I have a briefing this evening.
I wonder who I’ll stay with tonight, Bassan thought, his shoulders slumping. The only time he saw his room now was when he went to bed.
Have the locations of the transmission been discovered?
His uncle’s question caught Bassan’s attention. He focused on his mother, eager for the answer.
I believe they’ve narrowed down the sources, his mother thought, placing her hands on her hips. I’ll know more tonight, but one was indeed Cassa. A ship similar to the one residing in our mountain was discovered buried at the bottom of a lake on Cassa.
So after all this time they’ve finally found a connection between our races? his uncle thought, his uncovered eyebrow arching.
It could be more than just a connection.
I always wondered if we were from the same stock.
Bassan’s fingers tightened around his tablet. Were Cassans and Tgrens really the same race? Was the merging of the two races less strange than his classmates suggested?
Uncle Orellen’s gaze shifted to Bassan. And you are living proof, my boy.
Glancing at his mother, Bassan offered a hesitant smile, still trying to conceal his excitement. If the two races were indeed one and the same, then perhaps the other children would view him differently. The seven children of Cassan-Tgren pairings wouldn’t be considered second-class citizens anymore.
They departed a few minutes later. The return trip through Ktren’s streets didn’t even register with Bassan. His mind mulled over the news, eager to inform the other children. He and Drent wouldn’t have to fight for the respect due the sons of high-ranking officers. His friend always chided him for not playing the commander’s son card more often. Well, Bassan was ready now. The next boy who teased him for being a half-breed…
“Bassan?”
Startled by his mother’s voice, he spun to face her. She frowned, her eyes troubled.
“Do the other children give you a hard time because you are half Tgren?”
Bassan stared at his mother, unable to move. He hadn’t meant for her to hear his thoughts. Despite the jabs from his classmates, Bassan never wanted his parents to know he endured teasing on account of his mixed heritage. It wasn’t their fault. He needed to be stronger and fight back.
His mother placed an arm around his shoulders and pulled Bassan closer. He allowed his mother to hug him, pretending indifference even as he reveled in her soothing thoughts.
You are to be proud of your Tgren heritage, she thought, her hand stroking his head. We may not be as advanced as the Cassans as far as technology is concerned, but our mental powers are stronger. And since your father possesses abilities beyond the average Cassan, you’re probably ten times stronger than the oth
er children.
Bassan had never considered that possibility. You think so?
You are due for testing soon. I’m confident those tests will reveal traits similar to those your father and I possess. Which means you will be stronger than any of those Cassan children.
Pulling himself free, Bassan stared up at his mother, his heart full of hope. I’ll be stronger?
His mother smiled and stroked his cheek. Much stronger.
Then why can’t I shield better? Bassan thought, still bothered his mother had heard him.
You’re good at shielding, his mother thought, a laugh escaping her lips. I’m just very good at listening for my son!
Bassan moaned. His mother still heard his mind despite his efforts. He’d never enjoy total privacy. His mother laughed again and held him close.
You are your father’s son, she thought, kissing the top of his head.
I wonder if father feels the same? Bassan thought, careful to shield that stray thought from his mother.
Chapter Six
Athee slid into her seat and adjusted the chair’s position. She glanced around the table as the others sat down. The mood was heavy and serious, and rightfully so. Turning her attention to Byron, his neutral expression signified to Athee that he was all business tonight. Adjusting the position of her personal tablet on the table, she waited for the meeting to commence.
“Before we begin,” said Byron, leaning forward on the table, “I want to assure all of you there has been no change in the alien ship since yesterday. All systems are online, but the ship isn’t powered for flight. We have permitted a skeleton crew of scientists to return to their stations to gather more information. Should anything change, we will notify you at once.”
“Commander, what triggered the ship’s functions?” asked a visiting prefect, his thick fingers tapping the table’s surface.
Byron’s brows came together. “We are still working on that, prefect.”
“What about the transmissions?” someone else asked.
Patience, Athee thought, hoping her mate could control his temper during this meeting. She was grateful only half of the prefects were able to attend. The number was small enough for Byron to control.
“We have confirmed ten sources,” said Byron, his voice calmer than Athee had expected. “One is located on Cassa, in a ship similar to the one here on Tgren and buried beneath a body of water. Crews are working to reach the vessel now.”
“Another vessel? Does this mean your race was an experiment similar to ours?”
Athee noted the increased tension in Byron’s mind, which matched the wrinkles across his forehead. He was having a difficult time with this new development.
“It would appear so.”
Several men murmured and the mood of the room shifted. Athee focused on the reactions, hoping to gain an advantage. She might be Tgren, but her allegiance lay with Cassa as well. And with her mate.
“We’ve pinpointed several other locations,” said Byron, his commanding voice breaking through the chatter. The men grew quiet and turned their attention to Byron. “We’ve confirmed that transmissions were sent and received from the home worlds of the Fesell, Arellens, and Narcons. The Fesell have sent word of the discovery of an alien ship on their planet as well. My senior science officer is working to confirm the other transmissions, but he believes all ten races are involved.”
Gasps of disbelief emitted from those present, and the men began urgent conversations with their neighbors. Informed of the development before the meeting, Athee understood the impact it would have on the races involved. Until today, only the Tgrens were an experiment of the alien race. Now it appeared all were seeded by the unknown entity. That would not sit well with several of the races.
“So does that mean we are all related?” one man asked, his voice rising above the others.
“It is a possibility,” said Byron, his fingers tapping on the table.
A burst of indignation from the man beside her caused Athee to jump.
“Are you saying we are related to the races that attacked our cities?” Enteller demanded.
“We’ve not confirmed that, but it is a possibility.”
Enteller uttered an expletive and sank back into his chair. His brief moment of interest was replaced with apathy once again and his gaze drifted to the table’s surface.
“Prefect Enteller,” said Byron with a scowl of disgust, “believe me, the last thing any Cassan wants to hear is he’s related to the Vindicarn. We’ve warred with that race for years, losing many good men in the process. Our scientists are working on that theory.”
“Well,” said Anchore, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “We might all be seeded races, but I find a physical relationship hard to believe, not to mention repulsive.”
Athee’s mouth opened, stung by the man’s callous words. How dare he make such an ignorant, sweeping statement? She managed to hold her tongue and turned to Byron for his response.
Leaning back in his chair, Byron raised an eyebrow. “Is that a fact?” he said. “I believe the children of Cassan-Tgren pairings support the theory that our races are similar and quite possibly related.”
The man’s arms dropped and he cast a wary glance in Athee’s direction. She clenched her fists under the table, trying not to scowl in response. To her credit, she was partially successful.
“Other races have paired as well, although it is rare,” said Byron, shifting the attention away from Athee. “I agree a strong physical connection between all ten races is unlikely. Where our enemies are concerned, no connection is preferred. In the meantime, the reason for the revival of the alien ships, and the transmissions sent, is far more pressing.”
“They still don’t know what caused it?” said Ubarce.
Byron shook his head. “If they can transcribe the transmissions, we might find an answer. Unlike the previous transmission, these were an exchange of data rather than just a single message.”
“What if the probe returns?” someone asked.
Athee shot Byron an alarmed look, her muscles tense. The alien vessel had sought to confirm the development of the Tgren’s mental powers twenty years ago. Athee recalled the searing pain in her head when the probe scanned her mind, and her scalp itched at the memory. Satisfied with its findings, the ship had returned to deep space. What would it seek if it appeared again?
“We’ll deal with that situation when and if it occurs,” said Byron. “Right now we are more interested in the reason for the alien ship’s resurgence to full power. Our scientists have returned to the site, and work will also begin on Cassa once they have gained access to the ship. The Fesell entered their ship this morning. They will keep us updated on their progress.”
“But will you keep us updated?” Anchore demanded. “We joined your alliance and deserve to know what is happening.”
Byron’s mood shifted to one of irritation and Athee hoped she was the only one to detect his anger. She fidgeted in her seat, hesitant to touch his mind. The commander might be her mate, but Athee didn’t possess the authority to interfere.
“We will keep you abreast of developments as they occur,” said Byron, his voice strained but calm. “Since I am currently pressed for time, updates will be sent to all of you at least twice a day. If there is breaking news, my liaison officer will contact you directly.”
They pester me often enough anyway, Athee thought. She leaned forward and glanced around the table. Several prefects met her gaze and appeared to be satisfied with the arrangement.
“If there are no further questions,” said Byron, straightening his back, “I need to meet with my senior scientist. We will notify you if he’s discovered anything new.”
“Thank you, Commander,” said Prefect Ubarce.
A couple others offered words of appreciation. Athee suspected it wasn’t a sentiment shared by all, but no further objections surfaced as the men rose to depart. Slipping out of her chair, Athee found herself confronted with questio
ns from concerned prefects. Her progress to the exit was slow and she grew impatient when she noticed Byron leave the room. Fielding two more questions, Athee excused herself and darted out the door before anyone else stopped her.
Nodding at the security officers waiting to escort the prefects to the hangar, she began a fast trot down the hall. Rounding two corners, Athee finally caught up with Byron.
You were quick to escape, he thought as she fell in beside him.
Not as quick as you!
Byron glanced at her. I know my limit. I wanted to end that conference before someone suggested we were to blame for the situation with the alien ship. I heard that accusation enough twenty years ago.
Is that why you didn’t tell them the ship accessed information from the science officer’s computer?
Yes, thought Byron. If they knew of the connection between the ship’s resurgence of power and their signing a declaration of war, I’d never hear the end of it.
Athee’s indignation returned. How dare Anchore imply our union, and the son it produced, is repulsive!
Not all Tgrens are willing to accept the mixing of our races.
Nor all Cassans! Did you know the other children tease Bassan, calling him a half-breed?
Byron’s pace slowed. No, I didn’t. He told you that?
No, I overheard his thoughts after we visited my uncle. He’s kept it hidden out of guilt.
They reached the central lab’s door and Byron turned to face her. Guilt?
Allowing her arms to drop to her sides, Athee raised her chin and met his gaze. He’s ashamed that the commander’s son can’t stand up to them and defend his honor.
Byron’s controlled expression didn’t change, but his emotions churned within his mind. Before Athee could form a lock on one particular thought, Byron slammed his hand against the press plate. The lab door opened and he entered the room at great speed. Athee had to move quickly to keep up with his long strides.
They found Mevine at the central station. The scientist’s fingers moved over two keypads at once, his gaze on the center computer screen. He glanced over his shoulder as they approached. Punching a few more keys on each pad, Mevine sat up straight.
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