“Thank you,” she said, then focused on Seaghdh, still distraught, still holding her down. “Help me?”
She knew damned well he wasn’t simply going to let her go so she could drink. He lifted her head gently from the back of the seat. If he hadn’t worn such a distressed look, she would have rolled her eyes, but his concern smote her conscience. He might be a liar and a manipulative spawn of a Myallki bitch, but it looked like he really was concerned for her welfare.
“Gods, that’s great,” she sighed as the medicine burned a path through her veins and stopped the headache short. She glanced at a perplexed-looking V’kyrri. “I’m surprised you don’t have a headache after battering your head against my thick skull, V’k.”
“You’re feeling better, Captain Idylle?” Seaghdh asked, straightening as if he’d just realized he might be acting unprofessionally about his prisoner. He stabbed a quick glance around the table.
Ari sat up straighter. She’d forgotten that her every move was under observation and evaluation by a room full of strangers. “Yes, Captain,” she said, reminding herself that she was still pissed off at him. “Thank you for your concern.”
Regret and hurt stood out in his face for a moment, then he turned away and sat next to Eilod.
“Assessment,” he demanded, pinning a glare on V’kyrri.
V’kyrri shook his head. “I’ve never run into anything like it before. Ari, I got nothing. Less than nothing. If you aren’t a high-level telepath, I’ll eat this conference table.”
Ari started. “What?”
“If you . . .”
“I heard you! I thought you said you got nothing!” she protested. “I’m brain dead! Ask anyone who knows me. Hell! Ask my father!”
A troubled light grew in V’kyrri’s eyes. “This isn’t something your father could understand, Ari, much less measure. I don’t know . . .”
“What?”
“I don’t know who or what could have trained you to shut down a probe the way you did,” he said.
“I don’t understand.”
“Me, either,” V’k said. “But you’re either the antithesis of a telepath, or a strong telepath who found a way down some kind of rabbit hole when another telepath comes knocking.”
“A well,” she corrected.
“What?”
“It’s not a rabbit hole. It’s a well that I go down,” she said, suddenly interested that she’d had a means of defying the Chekydran all along and hadn’t known it. Neither had they.
V’kyrri nodded. “Telepath. No one else would need so strong and instantaneous an image. It also means the talent predates Chekydran captivity. Damn, Ari. Is your educational system that broken? You should have been identified and trained!”
“We’re not a telepathic people, V’k. No one knows what to look for. Leaving that aside, do we agree that this is the reason the Chekydran couldn’t turn me to their purpose?”
“You believe they had a purpose?” Seaghdh pounced on her turn of phrase, leaning forward to pin her with that smoldering, golden gaze.
To snap back “I don’t know” sat on the tip of her tongue. No matter her personal disagreement with him, they were both after the destruction of that army of mutated soldiers. Weren’t they? She held her caustic retort and purposefully did something she’d avoided since her return home. She took a deep breath and tried to remember. Flashes, confused and terrifying, assailed her. She gripped the arms of her chair and struggled to breathe. She found herself nodding.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes. They had a purpose.” Abruptly, a vision of Hicci, mottled and restless with anger took over her sight. At the time, she hadn’t understood his rage or her failure. Now, in hindsight, knowing she had an ability that thwarted the Chekydran captain, she could suddenly see the source of his distress.
“They had a purpose,” she repeated. “But nothing they did would make me work right.”
“Whatever you’re doing,” Seaghdh growled, “stop it. You’re tearing up my ship.”
None of his voice talent in his command this time, but his voice drew her firmly back into her body just the same. Ari blinked. Her fingernails had punctured the leather covering the padded arm of her chair. Peeling her aching, white-knuckled hands from the armrests, she met his gaze and nodded. He’d known. She swallowed a curse. Somehow, the bastard had conditioned her to respond, and he’d known he could pull her out of memory with just a word. It should probably have enraged her. Instead, relief trickled through her veins.
“Taking a walk down memory lane,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Give us something we can use, Captain, and I’ll let you rend the entire conference room,” Eilod said. “You mentioned that the Chekydran couldn’t make you work right. Can you tell us anything about what their purpose might have been?”
She sighed and sat back in her chair, letting her arms hang. “I keep going back to the basic-training metaphor and the nanopaks. The methods were so similar, tear down, rebuild. I’m an Armada officer, not a fresh recruit. I just wasn’t susceptible. So they changed tactics. The drugs, the psychological torture, physical torture, but time and time again, just as Hicci would tell me I was coming along nicely, he’d become so agitated, so angry. Yet no matter what I said or did, I could not make him kill me.”
Silence. Nearly everyone stared at her without comprehension. Turrel’s grim expression as he met her eye and nodded once told Ari he understood. The hint of torment in Seaghdh’s expression caught and held her. He would not look at her. What was going on?
Eilod Saoyrse cleared her throat and leaned forward. “Perhaps we should take a break. I’ve ordered . . .”
“We don’t have time,” Ari said.
Tension reared up in the room.
The queen’s assessing gaze felt like it could cut. “What makes you say that, Captain?”
“The Balykkal is en route,” Ari said. “It wasn’t stated as fact, but I gather she’s on search and destroy.”
Her Majesty sat up straighter and arched one glossy brown eyebrow. “Your ship won’t fire on us with you aboard.”
“They might if your spymaster’s intel is any good.”
Seaghdh outlined their run-in with the soldiers on Kebgra. To her relief, he left his injury and her first aid out of the explanation.
The sharp-faced woman sat forward, her black uniform gleaming. “Your weapons could not penetrate the soldiers’ armor?” she asked.
“No,” Seaghdh said.
“Because you were carrying a TFC-issue rifle,” Ari interrupted, glancing at Seaghdh. “The Autolyte did some damage. It might have eventually punched through.”
His gaze turned inward, Seaghdh nodded and muttered, “Three shots to your one.”
“Auhrnok?” the sharp-faced woman prompted.
“Captain Idylle discovered the weakness in the soldier’s defenses,” he replied, focusing on the people at the table once more. “A single shot from a Claugh weapon to a soldier’s head destroyed the soldier. My weapon, an Armada-made Rez-Whit 367, could not stop them with fewer than three shots to the exposed skin of the face.”
Turrel shook his head. “Don’t know why they’d go to so much trouble to create indestructible soldiers and then leave an exposure like that.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” the woman in black said. “Why didn’t they cover their faces?”
“Because when they grew armor over prisoners’ faces,” someone said, “they went mad.”
The weighted silence drew Ari’s attention. She glanced around the table. Turrel looked like a lifeless statue. He refused to meet her gaze. At the head of the table, Eilod’s eyes were wide with revulsion. Seaghdh, his lips edged with white, met her eye.
“You witnessed this?” he asked, his gruff voice reluctant.
Only then did she realize she’d been the one who’d spoken.
She stared at him, panic hammering against the inside of her ribs. Icy sweat gathered on her forehead. She had no memory to explain the statement
she’d made. She didn’t want to have any memory of that kind of horror. She screwed her eyes shut and swallowed hard.
“Clear the room!” Seaghdh commanded.
She’d thought she’d heard him use his talent before now. The harsh, raw power in his order nearly threw her from her seat.
“Cullin,” the queen protested.
“Get her out!” he shouted.
“He’s right, ma’am,” Turrel said. “When Captain Idylle has a flashback, she’s deadly. I’d be surprised if the Chekydran didn’t lose a few to her.”
That was a bracing thought.
“I’m all right,” Ari wheezed. Planting her head in her hands, she concentrated on drawing in slow, measured draughts of air.
“Ari?” Seaghdh. Crouched beside her from the sounds of it. “I’m going to put a hand on your arm, if that’s okay.”
She turned her head and glared at him. “Two things, Auhrnok. One, that is a damned vulnerable position to take when you think I might be about to have a flashback. I am mad at you, but I’d rather not kill you. Don’t make it so easy for me. Two, don’t coddle me. I will never tell you I’m all right if I’m not.”
Hand still hovering in midair, Seaghdh blinked. A slow, engaging smile spread and lit those golden eyes. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and said, “I might be a little tougher than I look.”
She considered launching an attack to prove her point. Sighing, she straightened and slid her gaze from his. They were still in a room full of people watching their every move. He had tried to humiliate her in front of her family and friends when they’d engaged in that silly duel. Remembering how he’d let her turn the tables on him when he could have beaten her at any time, she refused to take the bait he’d dangled to let her return the favor.
“Do you have Zomnat tea?”she asked.
“Let me find out.” He squeezed her arm gently and rose.
From his pause at her side, Ari assumed he gestured everyone back to the table. Feet shuffled over carpet. Chairs creaked. Seaghdh walked away.
“My apologies,” she said.
“None necessary, Captain,” Eilod said, her tone grave and sincere. “Are you able to proceed?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
Ari shrugged. “Can we change the subject?”
“Ari, Turrel told me what happened with your crewman,” V’kyrri said, hesitation in his words. “May I ask some questions?”
He hadn’t witnessed a full-fledged flashback and she’d scared him already? Meeting V’kyrri’s eye, she nodded. He relaxed.
“You talked him down?”
“I gave him a command,” she said. “I trusted there was enough of my lieutenant left to respond.”
“What kind of command? What happened?”
“I think I ordered him to stand down.”
“What were you feeling?”
She peered at the engineer. He wasn’t just asking questions. He was driving her toward something. “I don’t know, V’k. Just tell me what you’re after.”
“Zomnat tea,” Seaghdh said, placing the cup before her. A mug of the same soup he’d given her earlier appeared beside the tea.
“I suspect you influenced your crewman telepathically, Captain,” V’kyrri said.
Ari reeled. “No. I couldn’t have. I didn’t even know—” She broke off, casting back through that memory. “I tried to reach past what had been done to him. When I found the young man I remembered, I talked to him. He broke free. I felt it. Did I do that?”
“It is possible,” V’kyrri hedged, his tone telling her that he knew exactly what his answer might cost her.
She’d used a power she didn’t know she’d had to influence someone. That made her no better than Seaghdh. Where had this ability come from? How could she have not known? What the hell was she?
Seaghdh took over. He paced the room, focusing attention on her assessment that Armada Command had sent the soldiers to kill or recover her. Save that they’d done so a day early.
Eilod blew out a sharp, frustrated breath. “They have made more progress than we were led to believe.”
“It gets worse,” Ari said. “I assume your Auhrnok told you I had an IntCom mission?”
She nodded.
“IntCom isn’t talking to my CO.”
Seaghdh’s gaze darted to meet hers. Calculation ran rapid-fire behind his eyes. “Separate entities?”
“Yes. Intelligence Command and Armada Command each report directly to Council so that each may provide oversight on the other.”
“And IntCom, for whatever reason, no longer trusts Armada Command,” he mused.
“I don’t know that,” she corrected. “I only know that IntCom isn’t talking to my commanding officer at Armada.”
Eilod shifted. “You sound like you’ve been briefed, Captain.”
“I have. In medical.”
“What?” Her Majesty turned on Seaghdh.
“Medi-scan results incoming,” he said, tapping a screen embedded in the table in front of him. “The transmission came in near the end of Captain Idylle’s scan. Medical diagnostics picked up traces of the communication. Com alerts did not.”
A murmur of voices and bodies shifting let Ari retrieve her handheld unnoticed. One young man rose and raced from the room.
“Why did you not bring this to my attention immediately?” Eilod demanded, glaring between Ari and her cousin.
Why hadn’t he? He didn’t know the content of the conversation, but he damn well knew she’d had it.
“Admiral Angelou . . .” Ari began.
“Your commanding officer?” Eilod clarified.
“And my mentor,” she acknowledged. “Friend” she kept to herself. “He made some accusations. Ones I’ve heard leveled at Armada Command.”
Seaghdh swore.
Ari activated the handheld and turned up the volume. Admiral Angelou’s voice sounded oddly muted, punctuated by her taps of acknowledgment.
The transmission ended with a barely audible click.
“That c’ruhb rwotsh dung eater,” the queen whispered.
Ari frowned. She had no idea what a c’ruhb rwotsh dung eater was. She could guess she didn’t want to know.
Eilod’s gaze flicked to Ari. “How do I disprove this claim?”
Ari studied her for several seconds while trying to remember what she knew about the young queen. Her empire was a constitutional monarchy. She answered to her Nobles Council and to her Peoples Voice Council. The history of the empire was checkered with monarchs of varying efficacy. The Councils had always bound things together. Until three generations ago, when a vibrant, charismatic king had galvanized the Councils and greatly expanded his empire, absorbing worlds and entire populations into the chaotic mix of races and species comprising the Empire. His son followed in his footsteps, heading the Councils and carving out a reputation of fairness and compassion. Rumor claimed he’d been assassinated. Official announcements stated that he’d died after a protracted illness. Walking through some of his media clips, Ari wondered if he hadn’t spontaneously combusted. He blazed when he spoke. She’d felt scorched just watching him.
While Eilod had charisma in spades, she didn’t have the fire-eaten look her father had worn. When had she come to the throne? And what connection did she have to Cullin Seaghdh? And he to her? They were cousins, that much was common knowledge. Despite the fact that TFC didn’t recognize nobility, or maybe because of that very fact, many TFC citizens took an interest in the Claugh royal house. Ari could see the attraction. The queen was a beautiful woman. She had quite a following among both men and women. Speculation about her preferences in partners abounded. As far as Ari knew, she had neither husband nor consort.
Seaghdh was damnably attractive, but she’d never heard much about him. The Auhrnok Riorchjan had too formidable a reputation for ruthlessness. She had trouble reconciling the Cullin Seaghdh she thought she knew with the remote, rumor-ridden Queen’s Blade. Reports claimed he’d d
o anything for Her Imperial Majesty. Speculation about why that might be focused on the bizarre and nasty. It didn’t help that Eilod didn’t seem to indulge in romantic liaisons.
She wasn’t acting. Ari didn’t know how she knew, but she did. Someone was lying, but it wasn’t Eilod Saoyrse. That left her with only one lead. “Call in the Sen Ekir. Allow my father and his team to examine Tommy’s body.”
The queen glanced at Seaghdh.
He nodded. “With our options fast diminishing, I concur. Dr. Idylle’s profile suggests his allegiance is to science, not to a political entity.”
Ari raised an eyebrow. She wouldn’t have given the same assessment of her father’s loyalties. Entirely. However, if Seaghdh’s read was correct, it explained why her dad had been left out of the Shlovkura disaster. Wow. There was a price attached to being too good at your job.
“Would he defect?” Her Majesty asked.
“No,” Ari replied. “Family.”
“Will you?”
Ari gaped at her. “Don’t pull your punches, Your Majesty.”
“You ought to defect because of your family,” Turrel grumbled across from her.
Ari scowled at him.
“They’ll make it worth your while,” Turrel assured her. “I’d know.”
So that’s why they’d put her opposite him. Ari looked back at the head of the table but refused to meet anyone’s eye. She couldn’t risk seeing anything in Seaghdh’s face. “I—don’t know,” she hedged. Impatience broke past caution and she kept talking when she’d meant to shut her mouth. “Hadn’t I better live through whatever you and your spymaster have planned for me first?”
CHAPTER 17
“YES.” The queen stretched the word to its limits as she stared at Ari. Abruptly, she looked away. “Clear the room. Captain Idylle, please stay.”
That hadn’t been a request. Baxt’k. Weariness swept her as Ari took a sip of tea and noticed how badly her hands shook.
“Your Majesty,” Seaghdh began.
“Clear the room, Auhrnok,” Eilod repeated without looking at him, her voice flat. “Await our pleasure. All other personnel, we require your reports within the hour. Dismissed.”
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