Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3

by Cherie Singer

  "Very positive," the communication specialist agreed.

  "If one can believe the information contained within the missive."

  "You don't, Commander?"

  "Make no mistake, I want to, more than anyone will ever know, but have yet to see a solid reason for doing so." The first flush of jubilation had faded hours ago when she decided the message was too good to be true. Unable to ignore the odds, Cat nurtured only faint hope at this point. Better than none, though.

  A knock sounded at the door. "Enter," the director called.

  One of the council aides poked his head into the office. "Commander Culver, you have a visitor eager to see you."

  "Me? Be right out." Cat asked the communication director to page her when the original source of the transmission finally turned up, then stepped into the hall, curious who'd stopped by to meet her.

  "Greetings, Daughter." Dove Burnelle swept her dark hair over one shoulder. Her flawless face carried a welcome smile.

  "Mother!" Cat found her shocked self enfolded in the warmth of a hug so typical of Dove Burnelle. Unreserved, wholehearted and loving. "What are you doing here?"

  Dove made a chiding, motherly sound of reproof that seemed out of place from someone so athletic and vibrant. "Not exactly the welcome I would have liked."

  "I'm thrilled to see you, Mother, but thoroughly surprised."

  Cat returned Dove's hug, immediately sensed the moment her mother released a portion of the tight control she'd held over her emotions. Love and warmth enfolded Cat, as tangible as her mother's arms. She brushed her fingers to her mother's temple, felt a stirring of some unnamed emotion still under guard. Cat said nothing, but wrapped an arm around her mother's trim waist, welcoming Dove's arm over her shoulder. "What brings you here?"

  "Among other things, the chairman and I aim to lay the groundwork for a peace pact with the Mallochons."

  "How likely are you to succeed?"

  "In truth, we're not, but we must attempt every possibility."

  "I sincerely wish you success. Watch your back, though, Mother. The chairman received several death threats."

  "Ah, that explains your presence, then, Daughter mine."

  "I'll assign a special security detail for you. Stars, I wish I had Mykal Lyon for the job." She rattled on about finding suitable escorts and setting duty shifts, anything to avoid discussing the children for as long as possible. The painful subject would only lead into more unbearable revelations. How could she tell Dove that her younger daughter was believed dead?

  Cat looked up into her mother's sparkling brown eyes, then gauged the increased width of the cinnabar-colored streaks in her long dark hair. The additional cinnabar shading seemed more a result of the stress from the Mallochons having kidnapped Dove and Aidan, rather than anything to do with aging. In fact, her mother's wrinkle-free skin positively glowed with healthful vitality. "You should have told me you planned on visiting Nutralis."

  "My darling daughter, I tried, but when I contacted the Falchion, a very hostile Bellon captain informed me in no uncertain terms that you had left the ship and would not be returning."

  "He thinks. I'll return, if only to get in the last word. Leave it to Wulfe to break such news to my mother with so little subtly. I must teach him the meaning of the word one day. Perhaps at sword point."

  "I'd pay to see that particular lesson, Daughter. What in the Sacred Sands is going on?"

  Cat glanced ahead of them, spied an exit to the council's inner courtyard. "How soon must you meet with the chairman?"

  "Not until I'm satisfied my Firstborn has explained a few things to me. You're unhappy. Wulfe's unhappy."

  "Unhappy? Mother, if Bellons cried, I'd have wept an ocean by now. As for Wulfe, he should be jumping with joy. He wanted me to leave his bloody ship, and went so far as to demand I be transferred."

  "Bah! Men." Dove gestured to a stone bench off to one side of the sandy courtyard. "Leave that topic for the time being. If you won't bring up this next subject--which you seem to be avoiding--I will. I want to know why the little ones haven't been found. I want to hear everything. Now."

  Cat recognized the familiar tone of that order. She told her mother the major points of the last few days, albeit a sanitized version. No point in letting Dove know how completely her older daughter's life had disintegrated. Her mother would sense enough to make her want to help as it was.

  Dove leaned back, folded her arms across her body, looked skyward. "This business regarding the message..."

  Cat nodded, agreeing with but not liking the uneasy skepticism emanating from her mother. "Too easy, isn't it?"

  "That is my fear." Dove lowered her sight from the bright sky, blinked several times while she stared at the soft, white sand. "Children are not meant to be pawns."

  Cat's stomach spasmed in painful reaction. The unexpected flood of emotions from her mother shocked her. Dove, usually so in command, wavered on the edge of an emotional tide. "Mother? Are you unwell?"

  "Do I look ill?"

  "No. Truthfully, you appear radia--Glory's Gate!"

  Dove's brown eyes reflected an inner joy even Garrett and Morgan's disappearance couldn't completely overshadow. "Guess your father and I made the most of our days and nights together after Cass and Hawke rescued us from the Mallochons. You can expect a baby sister in a few months."

  "Another sister? Just as well. A boy would be spoiled beyond bearing at this point. Here I thought C-Cass would be the next one to add to the Burnelle family tree. Well, it's no wonder you're broadcasting emotions all over the place."

  "That bad?"

  "I'm surprised I didn't sense you before you hit orbit."

  "You would have if I hadn't deliberately shielded my emotions from you, though the effectiveness of my mental barriers fluctuates with my hormones." Dove brushed her fingertips against Cat's temple. "We will have time to discuss this pending arrival once we've settled all these other matters. I have tried very hard not to pry, but I'm sensing another sadness within you. A grief that has nothing to do with your husband or children. I felt it the strongest when you mentioned your sister. It has something to do with Cass, doesn't it?"

  Cat intended to deny the truth and pain, keep the news from her mother, but Dove would never let go of the strand of emotion she'd discovered. Nor would Dove ever forgive her if she avoided the truth. She cast about in her mind for the gentlest words. "Understand this has not been confirmed, Mother. I received a preliminary report...suggesting the, uh, possibility that the Moon Maiden and the Yataghan were destroyed without any survivors among the crews."

  "Indeed," her mother said, invoking the single word used by Cat's unflappable ambassador father when confronted with something unexpected. "I sensed nothing of this earlier. A result of my pregnancy, I'm sure." Dove swallowed once, then looked skyward again, her exquisite face transformed into bleak lines that erased the youthful vitality present such a short time ago. "And your feelings on this bit of...unconfirmed news?"

  "My instincts haven't been too accurate lately, Mother, but they tell me not to abandon hope of their survival. I won't give up."

  The grimness in Dove's face diminished. "Nor will I."

  Cat knew with certainty that her mother tucked away the anguish over Cass's fate. Once alone, the Dove would allow her heart to shatter from the grief. Still in privacy, Dove would then pick up the pieces and mend herself the best she could.

  Dove gave the impression of squaring her shoulders without any movement beyond breathing. Eventually she lowered her gaze and broke the silence. "Your instincts usually hit the target laser-true. Look how you fought the odds to save your marriage only months ago. Done splendidly, by the way."

  "Lot of good that did me. I'm beginning to think I'm not cut out for a lifetime bonding with Wulfe or any other man."

  "Nonsense. If you and Wulfe aren't destined to spend eternity together, no one in this universe is."

  The door they'd used to gain access to the warm courtyard opened. A
short tiny-boned woman with reddish-blond hair smiled at Dove and then stepped outside. "This must be your Firstborn, Lady Burnelle."

  "Another reason I'm here," Dove said quietly to Cat, then called out, "Come, join us, M'Lissa." She introduced Cat and the little Erosian. "M'Lissa came from Erosia with me. Think the Falchion can make good use of an accomplished Seeker?"

  Surprised by the question, Cat returned M'Lissa's gentle smile and nodded in quick agreement. "A Seeker could be a remarkable tactical advantage. I should warn you, though, that a large portion of the Falchion crew claims Bellon blood. We can be an unruly lot during the best of times."

  Dove angled her head toward the little Erosian. "Have I mentioned that my daughter is prone to understatements?"

  M'Lissa's laugh sounded almost like a delicate melody. "So I've been told. Not to worry, Lady Cat. My life has been anything but isolated. Bellons do not worry me."

  Cat gave the frail-looking woman an appraising glance. "Ah, well, give it time. You will learn to be wary."

  WULFE SAT IN the captain's chair, mentally reviewing the last few hours. He'd lost the presence of a mate, but thanks to Lyon, he'd regained three fighters and their pilots. Lyon and his team found the missing flight squad floundering off course in an asteroid field with abnormally high magnetic readings. Inexperience always told.

  Lyon's reaction to Cat's departure had been stoic acceptance and a silence that spoke volumes to Wulfe. If there had been any attachment beyond friendship between the two, Lyon would never have remained so calm.

  Which meant Wulfe's accusations toward Cat had been without just cause, something he'd known in his heart all along. He ground his teeth together, as if eating the words he'd thrown at her. He had to find the chance to make things right.

  The Falchion also received word of two more mining installations being attacked by the Mallochons. Their random, hit-and-run strikes still made no sense to him. The Mallochons seemed to be strafing mining operations that had nothing to do with the scarce plunarium needed to power their shrouding devices. Mallochons, though prone to do things from sheer spiteful evil, must be working from sort of master plan to spend so much time on the air-to-ground attacks. He had only to reason it out.

  Wulfe tightened the leather thong in his hair. He couldn't get Albright's smart-assed comment about the nursery rhyme out of his mind. Originally, he dismissed her taunt as Earther foolishness, but the gibe created an unexpected sense of deja vu. Something in him wanted to make sense of the doctor's words. Sooner or later, he'd find the reason.

  "The Egyptian is in orbit over Sisyphus, Captain, and is prepared to assume duty. Our away teams have returned." Seleen checked the readouts on her control panel. "All stations report they are ready for hyperspace at your command."

  Wulfe nodded, still immersed in private thought. No self-respecting Bellon warrior would ever allow his mate to simply walk out of his life, regardless of the circumstances. Cat had been poised to desert him before he ever issued his ultimatum--hadn't she? How could he be sure?

  If Cat truly did not wish to remain his mate, he wouldn't drag her back in magnecuffs, but, by the gods, she'd have to say the words while she looked him in the eyes. She must be the one to break the bonding goblet with which they'd sealed their vows. He would not shatter the goblet nor Bellon custom. Bellons mated for life, the long or short of it. Cat must be the one to go against their traditions.

  First, though, a gut feeling insisted Cat needed him now. And the gods watch over anyone who tried to stop him from going to her. He'd reach Cat's side no matter what Garesh and the Underworld--or the Corps--threw at him. Until she formally ended their union, she was his responsibility, and he'd protect her no matter the cost. Just as she would him if circumstances--

  "Course, Captain?"

  "What?" Wulfe met Riordan's questioning look, issued the order he'd been contemplating for some time now. "Lieutenant Commander, lay in a course for Nutralis, all possible speed."

  "Aye, aye, Sir!" Riordan's grin lit up her fair Earther-girl-next-door face before she swivelled back to her controls. "Nutralis, best course laid in, all possible speed, Sir!"

  "Captain?"

  "Yes, Seleen."

  "Captain Wheeler is on channel. He wishes to know if you require him to follow up on his offer to investigate."

  "Tell the captain we appreciate his overture, but he must follow his own orders from Command."

  "Aye, Captain."

  Wulfe heard the Grimalkan relay his message in a quiet tone. At the end, Seleen hissed and shot back a quick verbal directive over the open communication channel.

  "What was that, Seleen?"

  "Sorry, Captain. The Orion communication officer forgot to filter out some high-pitched clutter. He must be new."

  "You are uninjured?" Bellons claimed extraordinarily keen hearing, but even they lost out to the hearing abilities of the feline race. Grimalkans went twitchy when exposed to high frequencies.

  "Aye, Captain. Their communication officer will know better before he contacts me another time, I assure you."

  "Once he translates the Grimalkan curse you put on him?"

  "Aye, Sir," Seleen answered placidly. She ran a bright pink tongue over a wicked-appearing incisor, looking very pleased with herself. She blinked her luminous eyes once, very slowly, passed her hand-like front paw over her muzzle whiskers.

  Seleen's self-satisfied expression nudged Wulfe's subconscious. He fought to retrieve the veiled memory. The recollection refused to surface, but he balked at giving up. Did they teach nursery rhymes on Grimale?

  Bah! Albright and her game-like riddles. Still, Seleen's feline form made him think of Albright's taunting question.

  THE COUNCIL chairman sat at the head of the private dining table with Cat to his left, Dove to his right, and M'Lissa on the far side of Dove. The elderly statesman possessed strong and practical diplomatic views complemented by a sharp-witted sense of humor. Throughout the meal, he'd allowed no somber discussion. Instead, he regaled them with tales of his youth, each story boisterously rowdy, but tastefully told.

  Cat watched her mother in private amusement. Dove tried combination after combination of condiments on her meal. Hot, spicy, sweet, bitter, sour. A couple of the mixtures made Cat's mouth pucker in horrified response. Her own pregnancy craving had been specifically for blood oranges, relatively mundane compared to Dove's trial concoctions.

  Before dessert could be served, an aide entered the dining room, leaned down to whisper a message in the chairman's ear. "Marvelous," the chairman said with enthusiasm. The aide whispered more, prompting the chairman to ask, "Is she certain?"

  The aide nodded and left. The chairman's kind face stayed a little too expressionless. Cat felt the chairman's emotions skip from the elation and relief that had filtered through with the first half of the aide's message to his present concern and reticence. "Mister Chairman? Is something wrong?"

  "I am not positive, Lady Cat. After going through twenty-seven different relay connections, my communication director has finally found the original source of the transmission regarding your children."

  "Where?" Cat shot to her feet, heart pounding. Maybe now they could get to the truth of the matter. Oh, gods, would she soon be able to hold her children again?

  The chairman met her probing gaze. Confusion radiated from him. "A Space Corps vessel called the Falchion."

  "What?" The floor undulated beneath her feet--or had her knees simply gone too weak to support her? Either way, she ended up back in the chair, her heart stuttering.

  Dove, who'd somehow made her way to the other side of the table, clasped Cat's shoulder. "It is not what you are thinking, Daughter."

  "Then, by the gods, what?"

  "I don't know, but I assure you we will discover the truth. I sense the betrayal you are feeling and must warn you. Do not allow the emotions to overshadow what your heart knows."

  Her heart knew many things. She cherished Wulfe, adored the children, loved her far-reaching
family, treasured her home and comrades.

  She also now realized one of those comrades aboard the Falchion must have betrayed her--something unthinkable until this very moment. Corps did not betray Corps. Cat couldn't bring herself to believe the bitraer to be Wulfe. Simply could not. Only the name `Wheeler' flashed through her mind. But he was Corps, too! She excused herself and retreated to her chambers to contemplate the impossible.

  Isolated in her private rooms, Cat worked into the night double-checking the security measures she'd helped to put into place. She evaluated personnel files and reviewed the logs of visitors to Nutralis in the last month. Two records of visiting ships bothered her, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what aspect of the stopovers disturbed her; they seemed normal enough on the surface.

  She did anything and everything to keep her mind occupied. While she worked to verify all those records, she ran a tracing program in the background to confirm the communication relays the chairman's director had tracked.

  The woman's efforts checked out. Whether prodded by impulse or intuition--she couldn't be sure, maybe compulsion--Cat dug for more details, some clue as to who drafted the original message. She found only the Falchion as the source of the computer-generated text. And a date and time that meant the first leg of the missive's course began while the Falchion orbited Uhlein. If she had access to the Falchion's computer core, she might--with the Creator's blessing--be able to decipher the author's name.

  The transmission began bare minutes before Fallon and the children disappeared from the station's security logs. Before. Meaning, their vanishing act hadn't been a spur of the moment act or an accident.

  She'd kill the person responsible! One torturous minute at a time, until he begged for release. In the back of her mind, she could already hear Wheeler's voice doing the begging.

  Startled, Cat pushed back from the work table in the chambers provided by the council. Worry about her family, the long duty hours on the Falchion, combined with the fact that Nutralia's day and night differed seven hours from the ship's, finally caught up with her, made her mind muddled and fuzzy, even hallucination-prone.