by Jaleta Clegg
It bothered him as he read through the other reports. He couldn't concentrate. He had to know what was on the cube. Jasyn wouldn't have sent a cube unless something dreadful had happened. She would have flown here herself, despite every warning not to, if she could. He admired Jasyn, her strength and stubbornness that somehow didn't make her hard. She was still very feminine, very beautiful. She was also very attached to Dace. She had made it clear how much she loathed Lowell the last time he'd talked with her.
His fingers kept straying to the cube. His mind kept wandering to its probable contents. He wasn't going to be able to concentrate on anything else until he read that cube. He finally quit trying to ignore it and put it back in the reader.
He tried his personal codes. The cube remained stubbornly locked. What would Jasyn have used to lock it?
"Dace," he said. The cube unlocked. He pushed the play button.
"Hello, Lowell." The voice made Lowell jump in surprise. He hit the pause button.
Messages from the dead? How long had this cube been trying to catch up to him? How was it possible for a message cube to be misplaced and undelivered? The voice on the cube was Tayvis' though, but he was dead on Trythia, a planet a hundred light years from the outer edges of the Empire.
He held his finger over the play button, hesitating to play the rest of the message. His hand shook, his finger trembled. Nerves, he told himself, from lack of sleep. Not a premonitional shiver up his spine. Tayvis was dead. Whatever this message contained, it would be very out of date. It wouldn't be important.
Lowell found himself blinking back unaccustomed tears. He'd failed Tayvis. He'd failed Dace. He couldn't hear that voice again, a clear baritone that woke too many memories. Tayvis had been almost a son to him. He'd spent more time with him than any of his other agents. He'd played favorites, true, but Tayvis was worth it. He'd proven himself time and again.
And he'd still ended up dead. Shot in a confusion of action that shouldn't have happened. Things had gotten too far out of hand. Lowell had lost control of the situation and people he cared about had died.
His finger pushed the button. It was self flagellation to listen now, to the voice of the dead, but Lowell needed to punish himself. He would allow himself to wallow in guilt for just a while. Self indulgence, something he rarely dabbled in.
"Hello, Lowell," the recording started over at the beginning. "I assume you didn't leave me behind on purpose. What was your hurry anyway?"
Lowell sat up and stopped the recording again. Tayvis wasn't dead on Trythia? What was going on? He started the recording again.
"Hello, Lowell. I assume you didn't leave me behind on purpose. What was your hurry anyway?
"Not that it matters much. Trythia wasn't a nice place. For any of us."
There was a pause. Lowell could almost see Tayvis in his mind, running a hand through his hair with a half grin on his face, a combination of accusation and hurt in his eyes. He wouldn't understand why Lowell had run so fast from Trythia. Lowell rubbed his own hair. No, Tayvis would understand, when and if Lowell could get him to listen long enough to explain. It was his death. And Dace's reaction. And Lowell couldn't deal with the grasping, arrogant Trythians. They were too far from the Empire. And Lowell had had enough of violence and death.
The recording had kept playing. He'd missed part of Tayvis' next comment. He backed it up.
"What did you do with Dace? Will told me she survived." There was the sound of a sigh, breathed out quietly, away from the microphone.
"But I have worse news for you, Lowell. Personal things will just have to wait. I hope you get the message in time. They told me I wasn't officially Patrol anymore. So I called in favors to get this to you.
"The Federation, in the person of none other than Roland—remember him from Dadilan? He's the head of the Federation. They came to Trythia not long after you left. There were quite a few left behind. Mostly those who knew the Empire would lock them up if they let the Patrol take them into custody. Will Scarlet, Willet Smythe, was there. He thinks you would have him quietly executed if you saw him again so he hid. He found me."
He paused again. He never rambled like this. Trythia must have been bad for him, bad enough to almost crack him. News that Dace was missing again, on Tivor no less, would send him over the edge.
"Lowell, this is a warning." His voice changed, became more hard and businesslike. "Remember that mess you were in with Roderick, the Emperor's cousin? That was only a diversion. The real conspirators are still there. They've crippled your power, more than you know. I can give you more information, but not like this. It's taken me months just to get back into the Empire. And guess what I find? The Federation is eating the Empire. Maybe in another few months my information won't matter. There won't be an Empire much longer. Unless you can do something about it.
"If you get this message in time, meet me on Viya Station. I'll only be there until the end of the month, though. After that, send a message in care of my mother. I'll make arrangements through her if I need to. She's vacationing on Landruss."
The recording ended with a sharp click. Lowell automatically checked the date of the recording. A week and a half ago. He would have time.
Except Tivor was on the verge of erupting. And Dace was out there, somewhere. He couldn't leave.
The information Tayvis hinted at ran through his mind, digging up memories. He'd been framed for treason. He thought he'd lost Dace over that, but she was stronger than they expected, her Hrissia'noru heritage more than they anticipated. It had marked her, but not killed her.
Were the Hrissia'noru the ones behind the current unrest? No, it was at once more complicated and more simple. Besides, Lowell was their favorite tool for manipulating the Empire. The Inner Worlds had done this to the Empire, at least in part. They'd set up the social imbalance that made it possible for a man with vision to exploit the unrest. That the man was Roland was pure luck. Roland had honor, Roland was not one to seek personal power. Roland had taken the Federation, a group of pirates with rough laws and rougher lives, and transformed them into something to be admired, a form of democracy that worked. It was spreading like a disease through the dissatisfied frontier and outer worlds. Tired of the weight of tradition and taxes, they had no reason to stay loyal to an Emperor they'd never seen. They seceded and joined the Federation.
He rubbed gritty, tired eyes. It all made too much sense. And he was wasting his time here. Tivor was going to either join the Federation or self destruct. And nothing he did would prevent any of it from happening.
He had to stay, for Dace. No, he was letting his personal feelings get in the way. He gathered up the cubes and papers. Dace would survive, somehow. She always managed to survive. He had to believe that. Tivor was soon going to be inaccessible to the Patrol. He could send Jasyn and her gypsy family here to extract Dace later. And Paltronis and Scholar, he added. He had to leave them behind. He had no choice. The message from Tayvis was too big to ignore. Tayvis never cried wolf unless there really was a wolf present, one bigger than he could deal with, which made it a very big wolf indeed.
He sighed as he tucked the reader away in a cabinet. He was just too tired. This was going to be his last operation. No matter what the Emperor or the Hrissia'noru, what was left of them, said, he was quitting. He was old enough to retire. Only his belief in the Empire and his lack of suitable replacements had kept him going this long. He was getting old and he was starting to feel it.
He pushed open the door. Britneir was in the hall, flirting with Dgido. They both snapped to attention at his appearance. He chose to ignore their behavior though it technically should get them both on report. He waved a tired hand at Britneir.
"Tell Harouk to pack up. I'm leaving and I don't know when I'll be coming back here. If ever," he added in a mutter to himself.
Britneir gaped in surprise. "Leaving, sir? Completely abandoning the base?"
"That is what I said," Lowell answered. "Dgido, please tell the shuttle crew one hour."
"He won't go, sir," Britneir informed him.
Lowell studied her, tilting his head to one side. His face showed nothing but mild curiosity. "And why is that?"
"His orders were to hold this base," she said. Lowell guessed, correctly, that she had read orders she shouldn't have. "He won't leave, sir."
"He intends to hold this base with a handful of staff?" Lowell shook his head. "If he wishes to stay here, I won't order him to leave. But I won't let him hold anyone else here, either. Send out the message: General meeting in the commons in one hour. Everyone on the base will be there."
He didn't give her a chance to do anything but salute. He walked quickly down the hallway to the rooms they'd assigned him. If Harouk wanted to be a hero in a hopeless cause, Lowell wasn't going to deny him. He'd try to convince him otherwise, but he wasn't going to force anyone's choice. Everyone on the staff would be given a free choice to stay or leave.
Lowell had no time to give them, either. He had to reach Viya Station within a week. And while he was there, he'd find a fleet to order to Tivor. He wasn't going to leave Dace here longer than he had to.
Chapter 21
The wind flinging ice into my face woke me. I was leaning against a tree, the rough bark unfelt under my frozen cheek. I'd drifted away again.
I'd been running for a lifetime, it felt like. I kept expecting to hear that hair-raising growl behind me any moment. I expected to feel teeth ripping into me. I staggered away from the tree and pushed myself into the wind.
I walked uphill although I could barely see beyond my feet. It was snowing hard, with wind whipping it into a solid curtain around me. Day had dawned some time ago, hard to tell exactly when. The utter blackness of the stormy night changed to a dim gray.
I tripped and fell heavily in the snow. It was over a foot deep, deceptively soft looking. I was so cold it almost felt warm. My eyes drifted shut again. I could just drift away and not ever wake up. It was a peaceful way to die.
"You really want to die?"
I jerked up, staring wildly at the swirling snow. "Clark?" I whispered through cracked lips. It was his voice. I scrambled to my feet. They'd come for me. Somehow Jasyn had found me and Clark had come.
There was no one, no tracks but my own. I swallowed disappointment so thick it choked me. No one knew I was here, not even Lowell. I was alone in the snow and I was going to die.
I put one numb foot in front of the other and started trudging up the hill.
"You can do this, Dace." It was Clark again. "Just keep going. Trust yourself."
"I'm so tired," I whispered. The wind caught my words and flung them away.
I kept stumbling up the hill. Trees came and went around me, ghosts in the snow. I slogged my way through drifts up past my knees, so cold and frozen and tired I could barely keep moving.
The hill changed slope. I'd crossed over into another of the narrow gorges between ridges. I stumbled and went to my knees. My tattered skirt flared out across the snow, dark and ragged. I hugged my arms around myself, crying mindlessly.
"I love snow," Jasyn said in front of me.
I looked up wildly. She was standing just a few feet ahead of me. Her long hair was loose, floating around her shoulders like a dark waterfall. Snowflakes caught in it, white stars that sparkled. She smiled. She was beautiful with her oval face and violet eyes. She wore her favorite coat, the fur trimmed one Clark had bought her on Parrus.
"You aren't really here," I said. My voice was harsh, raw and cracked. I sank back to my knees.
"I'm here if you believe," Jasyn said. She lifted her head to the clouds, dislodging a fluttering swirl of snowflakes.
"That's more what Larella would say," I answered. Larella was a psychic healer, whatever that really meant. She'd married Jerimon.
"Are you going to just give up, Dace?" Jasyn asked.
"What difference will it make?"
"Trust me."
The wind gusted, tossing icy pellets of snow. I blinked, blinded for a moment. I wiped my face clear. Jasyn was gone.
"No," I begged the wind. I struggled to my feet. I didn't want to die alone. Even if Jasyn was only a hallucination, she was company of sorts.
I staggered along the slope, tripping over rocks and logs and barely catching myself time after time. I was too tired and frozen. I couldn't keep it up. I tripped and went down again. I stayed on all fours, panting. My breath came out in clouds of frost. A sob caught in my chest. I couldn't do this anymore. Even if the wolves that had eaten Jhon came up behind me, I couldn't have gone another step.
"Yes, you can," Darus said next to me.
I closed my eyes. I knew he wasn't there. Not really.
"You're just going to quit?" he badgered me. "You promised, Dace."
"I promised what?" I said to the wind and the snow and the frozen mountain.
I shoved myself up, reaching for strength I didn't know I had. Somehow I found enough to start walking again. I had promised Darus, my father, to give him enough of a chance to build a real relationship, someday. He wasn't going to get that chance if I died here. I'd promised and I was going to keep that promise.
The trees closed in around me. The walking got easier. They blocked the wind and most of the snow.
"You know, Dace, you really should try harder to stay out of situations like this."
I glanced to the side. It was Clark again, walking beside me, his hands in his pockets. The snow and the trees didn't seem to affect him at all.
"What's it like having a baby?" I asked him after a few staggered steps, mine not his.
"I wouldn't know," he answered. "I'm only a figment of your imagination. I only know what you know."
"And what do I know?" It came out harsh, like the cawing of a bird. I paused, leaning on a tree. My chest hurt, my breath tore in and out with the effort I made to keep moving.
"More than you think," Clark answered.
I turned to study his face, only to find myself alone again. I closed my eyes, squeezing back tears that solved nothing. He hadn't been here, not really. But some part of me found comfort in the visions. I pushed away from the tree's rough embrace and started walking again.
The way gradually got easier. I tripped less, there were fewer things in my way. It took me a while to realize I'd stumbled into a path.
"I always admired your strength," Jasyn said conversationally next to me. I glanced at her. She wore one of her swirling dresses. The snow drifted around her slender feet, untouched, unmarked. "You never give up. Ever."
"Yes, I do," I said.
She laughed, the bright remembered sound shattered the ice inside me. I gulped back a sob.
"Why the tears?" she asked.
"Because I'm going to die here, Jasyn, without seeing you again. Or your baby. Because Lowell is never going to let me go. Because I can't ever be happy."
"Now you're feeling sorry for yourself." She smiled, a teasing grin that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "You aren't going to die, Dace. And you deserve happiness."
"How can I be happy?" I shouted. My voice died. I was alone again.
I ducked my head and trudged along the snowy trail. Tayvis was dead. I might find peace someday, but never happiness, not without him.
"Yes, you will."
I stopped dead in my tracks. Not this voice. I couldn't bear it.
"Dace, look at me."
I didn't want to look. I couldn't help myself.
"Tayvis," I whimpered.
He stood in front of me wearing the outfit I'd first seen him in. Not his Patrol uniform, not the rags of a slave, he wore a vest and breeches. I'd met him on Dadilan. And nothing had been the same since. He watched me with his dark brown eyes. The snow brushed past his dark hair, not lodging in the slight curl.
"You're dead," I whispered. "I can't do this, Tayvis."
"Are you sure?" My fingers ached to trace the hint of a dimple in his chin.
"Sure I can't keep pretending I want to live without you?"
"Sure I'm dead," he
corrected.
I squeezed my eyes shut against sudden pain. I couldn't hope. He was dead. Lowell had told me he was dead and Lowell wouldn't lie about that. Everything else, yes, but not that. I'd seen the pain in Lowell's eyes when he told me.
"Don't do this to me," I whispered.
"Look at me," he said.
I felt remembered warmth on my face from his hand. I sighed, leaning into his touch. But it wasn't there.
My eyes snapped open, searching frantically around me. I was alone again. It was too cruel. Even if he was just a hallucination.
I trudged up the trail, my head bowed and my shoulders sagging.
"Do you trust me?"
I stopped, turning quickly towards his voice. He stood to one side, under a tree, watching me.
"Why am I doing this to myself?" I asked the wind and the snow.
"Because," Tayvis said, leaning against the tree, "you don't really believe I'm dead."
The sudden burst of hope hurt more than all the scrapes and bruises I'd acquired.
"Don't say that," I shouted, harsh and angry. "You died on Trythia."
"And that's why you're trying so hard to die?" He stepped away from the tree. He was suddenly in his black uniform, his rank clusters gleaming at his throat. He looked intimidating.
I shook my head in mute denial. Hadn't I decided I wanted to live? Didn't I believe Jasyn and Clark and the rest of my crew were reason enough to choose living over dying?
"Then why aren't you watching your trail?" he asked.
I glanced behind me. The trees thinned at just the right point to give me a glimpse of the valley below. Shaggy four footed shapes sniffed my almost buried footprints.
I'd thought I was too tired and worn out to run anymore. I found out I was wrong. A surge of adrenaline sent me running up the faint path. The wolves were coming for me.
I didn't know where I could go to be safe. I was running blindly.
"Trust yourself." Tayvis's voice floated on the wind, thin and distant.
"How?" I gasped as I ran up the steep hillside, dodging trees and deep snowdrifts.
There was no answer except the pounding of my heart and the muffled thumping of my feet.
