by Debra Jess
Yohzad shook his head again. "‘Pets receive a full medical exam before they're assigned to a colony, and unlike yours truly, they would never skip decon. I can't see how he would get sick when the rest of the colony population is healthy."
Think faster. "Maybe he was in an accident? Hurt himself?"
"One that required a shaved head? That would mean an operation is in order." Yohzad pursed his lips, thinking through this new information. "Perhaps I should look into this further. Find out exactly who this ‘pet is and why he needs an operation."
"No!" Tamarja grabbed Yohzad's sleeve with her free hand as the word escaped her lips. Now what? "Let me get the information for you. I'm supposed to be the spy. I can go back and tell the doctors that the injection they gave me isn't working. My head still hurts. I can poke around some more. Ask questions. No one would suspect me of being more than an annoying patient."
Yohzad glanced down at her death grip, his eyes alight with amusement, but Tamarja's hand was frozen in place. She couldn't let go. "You'll have this information to me by tonight?"
"Tomorrow morning." If she was going to have a truly plausible answer, she would need to consult the director or Daeven or someone who could advise her. She was so out of depth right now, she was afraid of making things worse. "Give me until tomorrow morning, and I'll give you everything you need to know about that ‘pet."
"I knew I could count on you." Yohzad patted her hand, and like a spring trap, she his arm.
She moved quickly, piling what was left of her dinner back onto the tray. "Thanks, Yohzad. I…know I can count on you too."
She felt Yohzad's gaze on her back as she emptied her tray into the compost bin and exited the dining hall. What had she done? She should have stayed in medical. Yohzad was suspicious of her now. All she needed was a few more hours, and then both she and Rory would be free of their collars. Once the threat of paralyzation was over and she and Rory had their memories back, they would help Daeven and the director rescue Jita and her family, shove Manitac off Dawn's Landing, and establish a new Shadow colony. Then she and Rory would be free to leave, and no one—not Yohzad, or Daeven, or Joran, or the director—could stop them.
Chapter Forty-Five
Joran stood stiff in the center of the broadcast tower's studio, glaring at Daeven even as he tried to answer the director's question with his usual congeniality.
"Madam Director, I really don't know what this security officer has told you, but I assure you that he is quite mistaken. I'm not a Shadow, and this broadcast tower is not under Shadow control."
Daeven didn't miss Joran's change in stance, so subtle a move that if Daeven had blinked, he would have missed it. Daeven didn't blink, however. Joran was getting ready to kill.
Daeven edged his way closer to the man, whispering low enough so the director could not hear. "Don't do it, Joran. I'll stop you. You know I will."
The older man flicked a glance at Daeven and then back at the director. "The broadcast facility is surrounded, I take it?"
Neither the director nor the Daeven answered the question. Joran sighed, turning his full attention to Daeven. "You disappoint me. I had thought you were better than this. Selling out to Manitac? After all we've accomplished here?"
"We need to shut down Jarvis Station," Daeven said, as if Joran needed reminding. "She can help us do that."
"And in return, we simply abandon our mission? Do you seriously think she's going to let us leave this planet alive?"
"I do," Daeven said. The director had actually spoken to him during their ride over to the broadcast tower. He now had a better appreciation for the people of Dawn's Landing. He had always thought they followed her blindly, looking for some semblance of freedom on the edge of nowhere, a last-ditch attempt to steer clear of Manitac by buying into the company itself.
Instead, the director had spoken to him of her dreams, her hopes, her desire to bring down Manitac without destroying a world, without repeating the Shadows' failure on Stratos. Daeven wanted to believe, realizing for the first time how far his belief in the Shadows had fallen. His doubts that had begun with this brother's death on Stratos had only festered here on Dawn's Landing.
Joran sighed, but his stance never changed.
"I understand your reluctance," the director addressed Joran. "Believe me, I'm not completely happy about this situation myself. I've been planning the takeover of Manitac since before you were out of diapers." The director, it would seem, was much older than either of them had guessed. "You believe in revolution, but Stratos proved that most people don't have the stomach for that sort of intervention. A shift in Manitac's governorship will make a lot of people uncomfortable for a time, but no one needs to die unless their crimes demand it."
Perhaps the director meant for that last statement to appease Joran. Most Shadows had lost someone to Manitac's disappearances. That's what attracted a good number of their members to the organization. The original Shadows had tried to stop Manitac within the legal boundaries of the Unity government. Yet even before Stratos, there had been those who thought it best to bring justice directly to Manitac's doorstep, with or without Unity assistance.
Daeven didn't know which faction Joran had believed in when he first joined, but the older man now had his feet firmly planted in the latter. Daeven hadn't had much of a choice. By the time he was recruited by his brother, the Shadows had all but given up their peaceful protests. Stratos had been a last-ditch effort to try to prove that violence wasn't necessary to stop Manitac. When that effort failed, Daeven asked his cell leader to assign him to the first undercover operation available. He got it and found himself on a Manitac scout ship, rescuing a mad scientist and his beautiful, troublesome, and completely captivating pilot.
Which only proved to him the old adage to being careful about what he asked for.
"You understand my reluctance, but I don't think you understand the enormity of the situation," Joran argued. "The Shadows have a spy network in place. We have agents on almost every colony as we speak. We have agents inside Unity as well. I don't have the authority to place them in jeopardy just to bring a single fleet of ships through the slipstream."
"Nothing needs to change," the director answered right back. "Your agents will still answer to the Shadows, and your cells can remain in place. Your plans for Dawn's Landing do not have to change. The only change we're proposing is that Dawn's Landing operate under my authority in a viable corporate structure. AuRaKaz will continue to operate, and the Shadows will provide protection for the colony and for those who do business with us. Dawn's Landing will become a safe haven for the Shadows."
"Under your rule," Joran said.
"My rules are reasonable. I don't ask for anything more than what you would expect from a civil society. I have not spent my life building my reputation and my own network of loyal employees only to end it by emulating Manitac."
Absolute silence fell. Both the director and Joran stared at each other. Daeven decided if he didn't intervene, they'd sit there all day.
"It's what we've been wanting, Joran. A colony for the Shadows, a world where we can prove you can live without Manitac. We have the fleet. The director has the structure. We even have a cure for the mind-wipes. Isn't that what you were planning to do? Return the memories of all ‘pets here on Dawn's Landing? Gain their loyalty and their trust and then have them work for us?"
That revelation startled the director and had Joran glaring at him again, but Daeven didn't care anymore. He wanted this to work.
"I'll need more details before I agree to this."
Daeven relaxed as Joran's stance loosened, the violence he threatened retreating behind the appeal of the director's proposal.
With half an ear, Daeven listened as questions and answers shot back and forth. More than anything, he wanted to contact Tamarja, but he fought off that desire. She would be in medical, waiting for Doctor Silvah to get out of surgery. Would she remember their last moments together on board the scout ship? He wondered if she would
still love Rory when she did remember. Daeven desperately grasped at the hope that he still had a chance to win her back.
"Daeven, what do you think?"
Daeven pulled his head out of wishful thinking and back to reality. "At minimum, we need one team to shut down the station, another team to isolate operations, and someone who can operate the slipstream."
One of Joran’s eyebrows went up. "You and I could easily shut down the station and isolate operations."
Daeven shook his head. "Any transfer orders the director issues have to be reviewed by the Manitac liaison, correct?"
The director nodded, a questioning look on her face.
"The Manitac liaison for Dawn's Landing is Yohzad Cyrek. He's going to wonder why the only news broadcaster that the colony has suddenly feels the need to travel off world when there is a Manitac warship in the quadrant generating lots of news. Cyrek also knows who I am. Waving my name in front of his face would be like sending up a flare signaling trouble."
The director tapped her carefully crafted nails on the surface of the small table. "I don't know offhand who I could assign to this operation, but I know someone who would know."
"Kaylin Ramsey?" Joran asked.
The director nodded.
"I had hoped to keep those who know about this operation as few as possible, though I suppose selecting a different team is unavoidable at this point," he conceded.
"Then you agree to my terms?" the director asked, looking for confirmation. "I keep AuRaKaz in operation and the Shadows will provide protection."
Joran hesitated before raising his cup of claffien. "To a new treaty, uniting the Shadows and AuRaKaz. May Manitac choke in our wake."
The director joined him in the toast, but Daeven backed out of the room, heading down the hallway leading outdoors. He wanted to be alone now that he didn't have to worry about those two killing each other. What would his brother have thought?
His brother, Daeven hoped, would have seen this as a continuation of his work on Stratos.
There were complications that the director and Joran would have to consider before they set their plan in motion. Tamarja would probably want them to rescue Jita and the other transfers as soon as her collar was removed. No, she would insist on their rescue. He knew that. When push came to shove, would Yohzad kill Tamarja if he knew of her involvement in this coup?
Daeven didn't like the answer. Even without her collar, Tamarja was vulnerable. From the moment he first met Yohzad Cyrek, Daeven knew he was more dangerous than the average Manitac officer. Because of that, Daeven always knew he had to stay close to the man, especially after he'd been transferred to Dawn’s Landing. He would have to find a way to stop Yohzad from killing Tamarja. There was only one way to do that.
Turning on his heel, he returned to Joran's living quarters. He could still hear the director and Joran haggling. They seemed to have settled the treaty situation and now focused on how to handle Jarvis Station.
"I need to leave." He interrupted their argument. "There's something I have to take care of. You might not see me until tomorrow."
"What are you up to?" Joran asked.
"To take care of some personal business before this all goes down." He looked at Joran. "If you don't see me after the Jarvis Station operation, tell Tamarja that I'm sorry. Really, very sorry."
He turned and started to leave again.
“Daeven.“ Joran made his voice a command, one that stopped him in his tracks. “This better not interfere with our mission.“
Without turning around, he answered, “Don’t worry. It won’t.“
Joran knew him well enough to know he spoke the truth. Conversation struck up again behind him. They had all but forgotten him already. He left the broadcast tower before he could change his mind, the negotiations of a revolution following him down the hallway.
Chapter Forty-Six
The sun's light had just started to peek over the mountains when Tamarja woke. Her head had been resting on the bed next to Rory. The doctors continued to delay the removal of her own collar, insisting they wait until Rory regained consciousness. The nurses had guided his bed out of the surgical suite only a few hours before. She clasped his hand tightly as he moaned, turned his head to face away from her, and fell back asleep.
The delay of her surgery meant she would have to report to Cyrek with the collar embedded. She had no idea what to tell him. She'd been as honest as she could be so far, but this situation was beyond her grasp. Cyrek would investigate, of that she was certain. He would find out that the director had been here, but how far would he dig? Would he discover she hadn't been here for a re-an injection? Would he find out that the mysterious ‘pet was Doctor Rory Silvah? That they had been lovers? Did that even matter if neither one of them could remember?
Reaching into her pocket, Tamarja pulled out her ear jack and checked for messages. There were none. She had tried to reach both Daeven and the director as soon as she left the dining hall, but neither had responded. She had even tried to reach Joran. If anyone could help her concoct a story to hold off Cyrek, he could, but he, too, had not responded to her messages. This didn't bode well for either her or Rory.
She needed to give Cyrek just enough information to keep him away. He might be Manitac, but he had given her a second chance at living a decent, quiet life. She owed him for at least that. Any other Manitac officer would have written her off, mind-wiped her completely, and closed her case.
Rory moaned again, thrashed about, and then opened his eyes.
"Rory?" Tamarja leaned over so he could see her face, grasping his hand again.
"Tama? What happened? Where are we?"
"What do you remember?"
He alternately squinted and rolled his eyes as he thought about her question, while rubbing his scalp, scratching over the sealants that protected the injection sites. He followed the curve of his head down to the back of his neck, searching for the twin nubs that held his collar in place. They were gone, but he could still feel the sealants in their place.
"They got us, didn't they?"
"Yeah, Ror. They got us. What do you remember?"
He swore, slamming his fist onto the bed. "Everything. I remember everything."
"Well, I guess that's good."
He looked at her, worry crinkling the skin around his eyes. "You remember too?"
"Probably not as much as you. I underwent an earlier version of your treatment. I still have gaps. And the collar."
Rory nodded, but she could tell he was still worried. "Where are we?" he asked and then almost immediately held up his hand. "Wait. Let me think."
She waited as he closed his eyes.
"Dawn's Landing?"
She nodded but realized his eyes were still closed. "Yes."
"Corporate colony. Supposed to be agrarian, but I didn't work on the farms. I worked in a spaceport—I think."
"You work for AuRaKaz. The director is Aura Kazamitiru. You worked inside a cavern in the mountains, a secret project building a warship."
"Yeah." Suddenly he smiled. "How ironic—working on a warship doomed to become space dust because Manitac erased my memory and any hope of configuring my shielding system."
"Not erased. Your memory is still there—they only blocked it. You can remember now, but don't try it just yet. Give yourself some time," she counseled. "And the warship is only doomed if it doesn't use the slipstream."
Rory blew air from between his lips. "Doomed."
Tamarja smiled and let go of Rory's hand, but he grabbed it right back.
"I missed this."
"I missed you."
He leaned up and was trying to reach her lips for a kiss when the door dissolved. Tamarja jerked away, shame coloring her face. Part of her thought it might be Daeven. She didn't want him to see her kissing Rory.
But I don't feel anything for Rory. Even now, I care for him, but I don't feel anything deeper. I should, but I don't. This is wrong. Did Manitac's treatment somehow erase my emotions
? Will I get them back when my memory completely returns?
The director entered the room with all the bearing of a queen entering her court. Ramsey followed, carrying a satchel similar to Tamarja's, with Joran bringing up the rear. No Daeven.
The director approached the other side of Rory's bed. "How do you feel?"
Rory looked at her and then back at Tamarja. He didn't need an introduction to know who this woman was.
"It's okay, Ror." Tamarja pointed over to Joran. "Joran's a Shadow. He knows who we are. So does the director. We're all working together to bring down Manitac."
"You're kidding?" He looked up at the director, who gave him a thin smile.
"She's not," the director confirmed. "Your compatriot has been rather busy since she was transferred here. She's managed, somehow, to discover my secret and use it to leverage a treaty between AuRaKaz and the Shadows. All we need is your cooperation."
Rory turned back to her. "You? You arranged all this?"
"It was more like a happy accident," Tamarja said.
Rory tried to sit up. Tamarja slipped her arm around his shoulders to assist. "I need a shower before anything else. Then we can talk."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
Cyrek leaned back in his office chair, thinking about what Daeven Blayde had just told him. He had always wondered about Blayde's loyalty. Anyone who could rape a woman, more than once, on someone else's orders, and then turn around and risk his own life to save that same woman and her lover demonstrated a very twisted, convoluted sense of duty. Though this trait wasn't the primary reason Cyrek had asked Daeven to join him on Dawn's Landing, it did present an opportunity for Cyrek. A good choice, since Daeven had proved more useful than Tamarja Chase.
"I'm pleased to hear that Chase has had her memory restored, but sorry to hear she has fallen into the company of the Shadows." Cyrek reached down and pulled out his stylus, the same one that controlled Tamarja's collar.
"I wouldn't kill her yet," Daeven said.
