Something had happened during her extended trip. He’d venture to say a lot of somethings happened. Vas had never been an hour over-due let alone two weeks. The fact that she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, talk about what she had been doing disturbed him. The fact that he couldn’t tell which was the case made things even worse.
He fingered the cuffs on his wrist in thought. If he took them off he would know instantly what had happened to her. However, alarms would go off in Vas’s comm, and he couldn’t risk anyone, even her, knowing that he could remove the cuffs himself.
He’d come close to exposing his ability in the desert, but Vas obviously thought she’d stayed conscious long enough to free him. In truth she had been all but dead when she fell to the desert floor. He’d barely been able to rip off the cuffs in time.
Drells were rarely used even before the Asarlaís were destroyed. The making of them was so arcane, so deadly, that half who tried died slow horrible deaths as the creations destroyed the creators.
So how did one end up on an obscure gambling planet in the body of his captain? A woman who, while well respected in her field, wasn’t anything more than a merc captain. Far more gifted than any he’d ever seen, and after four hundred and fifty years of life he’d seen more than his share, but still not a person who should have people trying to slaughter her with such a weapon when a blaster would do the job.
Had someone tried to poison him and got her? Or decided to poison her to find out how strong of a telepath he really was?
Deven swore under his breath as he packed a small bag. Either could be true. And he knew who to get answers from. He’d be cutting it close to get where he needed to go and be back before the battle began, but he didn’t have a choice. If someone had targeted Vas, he needed to find out why. And if someone had done it to find out the level of his esper abilities, he needed to leave the Commonwealth immediately.
Too many people both inside and outside of the Commonwealth council would love to get their hands on an esper of his level.
He pulled up the star charts, looking for a small planet that he knew would be hidden from him. It took longer than he wanted, but he found it. Now he needed to find a way to jump ship, get his answers, and then return before the battle. And he was going to have to try and talk to someone who would rather kill him. Slowly. Repeatedly. Someone the Commonwealth would also love to get their hands on.
Not all of the Asarlaís were dead.
Chapter Six
“Where’s Deven? I need to talk to him.” Vas scowled at the console while she called the bridge. She hated when Deven turned off his comm. Even though she had said to get the med work done quickly, Terel had managed to confine her for two hours to run “one more test”. Now Deven had wandered off.
“Out. He’s gone out.” Mac spit out the words and cut the comm.
Vas concentrated on the documents she needed Deven’s opinion on, for now ignoring the abrupt cut off from Mac.
A few minutes later she buzzed the bridge again. “Out? Out where? We’ve only left dock, which, by the way we seem to be doing at an advanced speed.” She called up their specs. “Take it easy, Mac. Flarik managed to get the nice cops to leave us alone, but she’ll come out and chew off a few heads if we have to wake her again to deal with a speed warning.”
The silence told her that he weighed the danger. Nevertheless, even he wouldn’t want to be on Flarik’s bad side. “Aye Captain, two clicks below posted speed until we’re out of the station.” Then he cut the comm. Again.
Vas called back. “Mac, where did you say Deven went? I wanted him in my ready room five minutes ago.”
“He’s out. Didn’t tell me where he went. Took that shuttle we came up on and said he’d meet us at Lantaria.” The words came out so fast it didn’t sound like Mac speaking.
It took a few seconds for his gibberish to sink in.
“Wait—he left?” Without so much as a, hey I’ve got errands to do? She strode out onto the bridge. “Xsit, flag down that damn shuttle. I want to talk to him now.”
Xsit cringed, and the light yellow feathers on the back of her head ruffled up. “I’m sorry, Captain. He cut communications and left the station.” Her voice went softer. “It looks like he is blocking us.”
Vas stomped around the deck. She’d kill him. Then toss the body in the nearest black hole. She glanced up and noticed how carefully her command crew watched her. She’d stomp in private. The issues between Deven and herself were growing stranger, but the rest of the crew didn’t need to know about them.
“I knew that. He mentioned something. I didn’t think he’d go so soon.” She tried to ease her pace as she went to her ready room. “Gosta, you have the bridge. Keep Mac under control.”
If her crew chose not to believe her, there was nothing she could do. But for now she could leave menacing messages for that bastard and plan how many ways she might kill him.
****
Deven carefully ignored the flashing message light on the shuttle’s console. He knew Vas would be pissed, but he also knew he couldn’t explain what he needed to do. Hell, he hadn’t wanted her, or anyone else on that ship, to know he was old enough to recognize a two-hundred–year-old poison. He sure as hell didn’t want to explain anything beyond that. Marliress would take a lot of explaining.
Marliress Gtill Sorlian kept a lower profile than even Deven did. The Asarlaí had been a race of beings with enormous powers, technology that even Deven’s people hadn’t reached yet. They had ruled this entire quadrant, Deven’s home galaxy as well, for thousands of years. Two thousand years ago they were brought down by the weight of their own cultural demands. They lingered on for centuries but only as a shadow of their former power, finally dying out during the Westergail Wars.
Marli was the only Asarlaí left as far as Deven knew.
Deven watched as the comm light continued to flash. With a sigh he covered the light and continued entering his destination into the shuttle’s navigation system. He couldn’t let Vas distract him. Marli might decide to follow through on her threats and kill him; he needed to be alert if he was going to survive. Even if she didn’t, she could make things extremely uncomfortable for him.
He took out the vial of Vas’s blood he’d smuggled out of Terel’s lab. He hoped the answers he found were worth the risk he was taking.
***
A few hours later, an alarm squealed over the ship’s system and pulled Deven out of his thoughts.
“Whoever you are, if you don’t clear my airspace now, I’m blowing a hole in your aft.” Deven leaned forward with a grin. At least he knew he’d found Marli.
“Marli? It’s me.” He hoped that he would be able to bring up the heavier shields before she guessed who it was. Marli was a wanderer, one who made herself immortal long before the Westergail Wars for the sole purpose of having enough time to see all the wonders of creation. She also had a temper and a memory to match her eons of life.
“Damn it.” The response coincided with a drop in energy coming from the small artificial moon below him. Deven swore; he hadn’t realized she’d already taken aim until she dropped her charge.
“Deven? What are you doing out here? Didn’t I say I would slaughter you if you ever came back?” The rich dry voice brought back memories. Usually things were great between him and Marliress. She knew his secret, he knew hers, and they protected each other. However, twenty years ago she’d been in a mating cycle when he’d come for a visit.
Not that he had issues with assisting females with sexual needs, but the Asarlaís’ natural mating form wasn’t conducive to sex with other species and often ended up with the non-Asarlaí partner dying or losing a limb. Marli wouldn’t have wanted him to die, but she thought a good friend should be willing to lose a limb. He could get a new one, right?
He left immediately and they hadn’t spoken since.
“I knew you didn’t mean it.” He checked the readings coming from the moon. “Besides, you powered down. You could have blasted me
once you knew who was up here.”
Marli’s laugh echoed in the small shuttle. “You always were a cheeky bastard. I forgive you. Get your ass down here and share some wine before I change my mind.”
Deven shook his head. If all of the Asarlaí had been like Marli, it was amazing the rest of the universe survived.
“Aye, ma’am. I think I have an interesting mystery for you to go with your wine.”
Her laugh deepened and she uploaded the landing coordinates. “You know I do love a good mystery.”
After landing, Deven locked up the shuttle. The terra-formed moon seemed to be abandoned, but if Marli was here, others could be as well. Besides, depending on Marli’s mood he might want it locked against her.
The tall woman waited for him outside of what looked like a pile of rocks, her long white hair reaching the ground. At just under seven foot tall that was a lot of hair. Marli honored him by letting him see her in her natural form, or as natural as she could be seen by non-Asarlaí eyes. The Asarlaí appeared differently to their own people, or so she claimed.
“So, did you change your mind?” Marli folded her arms and tilted her head; her ruby red eyes peered at him closely. The serious look she gave him stopped Deven dead in his tracks. Had he miscalculated and she was in state again?
Marli held her pose for a minute, and then let a huge laugh loose. “I’m kidding, boyo. I’m good for a few more years yet. And I found a species outside of the Commonwealth who isn’t as fragile as you to take care of my needs anyway.” She turned and walked toward the pile of what Deven had thought were rocks but were in fact three fighter ships, or rather the remains of three fighters. Marli smiled as she saw him study the ships before turning into a hidden doorway to the right. “Get inside. Dinner is getting cold.”
As they ate, Deven enjoyed the comforts of Marli’s secret home. Far larger than a single person needed; artifacts from thousands of worlds covered the walls and floors. He relaxed and for a moment allowed himself to forget why he came.
However, Marli wouldn’t.
“As much as I know you enjoy my company, why are you here?” Her grin revealed tiny fangs, also usually hidden by glamour.
He pulled out the vial. “I have a friend who was poisoned by a drell, a Larkerian drell to be exact. I’d like your help on finding out why, how, and whom.”
A series of emotions flashed across her sharp features. That surprised him; Marli rarely showed any emotion. The emotion that stayed unnerved him though: pity. “I’m sorry, Deven. Did your friend die quickly? Poison is such a coward’s way to kill.”
“She’s not dead. Not yet any way. And when she does go it won’t be because of the poison. I neutralized it and we’re working it out of her.”
Marli knocked over a plate as she jumped to her feet. “You saved someone from a drell?” She began pacing, muttering more to herself, or voices only she could hear, than to him. “Of course it has been quite a while since my involvement with any of the drells. I suppose cures could have been found. And he is powerful. But still….” She stopped in front of him, peering down as if he were an errant child. “What did you do? Exactly what steps did you take?”
Deven rose to his feet to close in the distance between them. “I purged as much of it out of her blood as I could. We found a counter poison and she’s getting injections to chase the rest out.”
Without asking for permission Marli placed one hand on either side of his head. Her long fingers covered his skull completely. She stared into his eyes, her clear red ones searching with a frightening intensity.
“Ah yes, you have grown stronger. But why? How were you able to…?” Marli released his head and stepped back. “Have you had recent gene therapy?”
The release of his head and her question slammed Deven backwards. More than that, a brief buzzing almost brought him to his knees. “What? No. What did you just do?”
With a frown she went to a small chair next to a desk that faced a blank wall. A few terse commands opened a large vid screen. She turned to him before calling anything up on the screen. “No gene therapy, yet you have changed.” She placed her hand on the screen and series of codes filled the blank space. Calling up a keypad, she entered more numbers.
“This is my recent scan of you. Don’t worry what the numbers mean, nothing but an old out-of-date Asarlaí way of tracking species.” Marli punched a few more numbers and a second series joined the first. They hung there one suspended over the other for a few seconds, then overlaid each other. “The second set of numbers I put in was you twenty years ago. Your abilities have grown.”
Deven crashed back to his seat at the casualness of this ability. He was used to being far more advanced than the people of the Commonwealth, but he felt like a child next to Marli, especially now. She’d never been so open with showing him her technology before.
“Bio implants? Do you have them in your hands?”
Her laugh carried an odd bitterness, but she still smiled. “Not unless you call my entire body a bio implant. It’s part of who I am, part of who the Asarlaí were. In my youth I wouldn’t have had to touch you. Alas, it’s not that easy anymore.” She punched a few more buttons, shaking her head when the results weren’t helpful. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell what’s changed in you; something has though. If you didn’t do it deliberately, then it must have been another person trying to change you. Do you know who is doing this? Who knows what you are?”
Deven tried to process all of the information. He began to understand how Vas felt when he threw too much detail at her. “No one knows who I am, not even my shipmates. As for enemies,” he said, “I’m a mercenary now, sometimes a smuggler, and on occasion a pirate. I have a feeling I have more than a few enemies. But that’s not why I’m here.”
Marli studied the screen a few moments longer, glancing back between it and him with a growing frown on her face. “I don’t like it. But very well, tell me about your friend, how did she get poisoned?”
“I don’t know how she got poisoned. My understanding is that the drell poisons could be activated any time within thirty days of contact?” At Marli’s nod, Deven continued. “Then we have no idea. Vas had been gone for the last month.”
“Vas? Your lover?” A mischievous light filled Marli’s sharp eyes.
“Vas, my captain.” Deven scowled at Marli, but couldn’t hold it. “There is more to life than sex, you know. She almost died yesterday. I want to find out if you know of anyone who’s bringing back the old ways.”
Marli’s frown deepened.
“Damn it, you know something.” He didn’t grab her. To do so would mean a slow, painful death. But he wanted to. This new Marli was far more open than the old one, which was more disturbing than the drell itself. He was pretty sure knowing Marli’s secrets could be deadly.
“Let me see the blood. At least I assume that’s what’s in the bottle?” She held out one long-fingered hand. Once he placed it in her hand she stared at the bottle for a few minutes, her frown growing deeper. Finally she glanced up and handed the vial back. “Your friend still has the drell in her system. Whatever your people are doing to remove it is too slow. I’ll give you another drug that will purge it completely.” She tapped her fingers on the small desk. “They poisoned her sometime in the last two weeks. I can’t get any closer than that since you were able to get so much of it out of her system. One other thing, does she know she’s also got a tracker in her blood?”
Deven pocketed the vial. “How can you track blood?”
“It’s an old trick, not as old as the drell, and not one the Asarlaí created, at least not officially. However, I have a bad feeling more of my extended family are alive out there. Or someone who wants them to be.” Her eyes lost focus for an instant then snapped back. “A blood tracker is an insidious artificial insect that is transmitted into a person through a thin needle. It spreads throughout the bloodstream quickly and once established it is impossible to remove. Within a month it would be fully integrated in
to her body and unmovable. Someone recently decided they wanted to follow your captain. Very recently.”
Deven ran his fingers through his hair. He came looking for answers and found nothing but more questions. “How could they have given it to her?” He tried to think of Vas’s habits on a space station. “Could they have put it in her food?”
She shrugged, sending a ripple down her silver hair. “Possible, but unlikely. The needle could be hidden in food, but the person doing it wouldn’t know they’d gotten her. Judging by the lack of spreading, I’d say it was given to her in the last thirty-six hours, no more.” She stood up, walked over to a small kitchen, and came back with two glasses. “I’d like to know what this mercenary captain of yours is up to that she has one person using blood trackers on her and a different person or persons trying to kill her with a drell.”
Deven gratefully took the short glass, grimacing as the fiery liquid made its way down his throat. “I’d like to know that too. Which comes back to who do you know who might be messing around with drell-class poisons?”
Marli drained her glass in a single gulp, making Deven cringe more than his own sip had. “This is only hearsay, rumor drifting around the space lanes as it were. But folks are saying there’s a cult focusing on the Asarlaí, on the darkest side of my people. They believe there are still enough immortals left around to lead them into a blessed land. Which is a hell of a thing because if there was such a land, my people would have already destroyed it.”
He noticed a slight shake in her right hand. “You’re drunk.”
She cackled as she went back to her kitchen and came back with a huge half-empty bottle. Amber liquid sloshed around the exotic golden glass. “And here I thought you were nothing but a pretty face. Righto, my boy, I am completely drunk. Or as drunk as an immortal with a viciously fast metabolism can get.” She sighed and peered at the bottle. “Which isn’t much, sad to say. Back to the cult. They have been around for the last ten years or so. Sneaky little bastards. They mostly stick with stealing anything rumored to be from the Asarlaí. However, there are darker rumors too. If someone has brought back the drell poisons, I’d say it’s them.”
Asarlai Wars 1: Warrior Wench Page 7
