Light of Kaska

by Michelle O'Leary

  There was a pregnant pause. “Was the candidate banded before or after your claim?”

  “After,” she said in a tight voice, feeling a squeezing sensation in her chest. Oh, Goddess, please let this work, she prayed.

  “How did that happen?” the controller asked, her voice chilly.

  “They didn’t give me a chance to state my claim.”

  There was another pause. Then the woman sighed audibly and asked in a tired voice, “Am I to assume they didn’t release him to your custody willingly?”

  Sukeza winced. The woman sounded as though she’d heard this story a thousand times before. It was possible that she had. “Um, no,” she admitted then said, “But you know they wouldn’t have listened to one Kaskan individual. They will listen to our Maters.”

  “They would have eventually released him,” the controller said in a sharp tone.

  “Even if they did, it would have been years down the road. Time is precious.”

  The woman paused again. “I will let your Mater argue the merits of your actions. Secure dock at this location. Warn the pilot that the ship will be searched and decommed.”

  This caused the Maltbys to begin their verbal abuse again but Sukeza ignored them, closing her eyes on a wave of relief. It wasn’t a resounding welcome, but it was a foot in the door. Once she got Stryker down on the planet and into the safety of her home, she would breathe much easier.

  When the Maltby brothers didn’t let up, she snapped, “Oh, hush! This nasty, grubby little hole you call a ship could use decontamination. So could you boys, for that matter. Be quiet or I’ll suggest it to them.”

  Silence fell at once and the twins riveted their attention on their displays, shooting her the occasional wary glance out of the corners of their eyes. Trying not to smirk, Sukeza went below to release the straps around Stryker.

  By the time they docked with the station and the airlock hissed its seal, she’d lost her momentary elation at the small victory and was a bundle of nerves. Would they accept her word? Would they call the Collectors and let them take him, deciding to argue her claim in the courts instead? What was her mother going to say?

  Two figures in protective gear squeezed aboard, one holding a scanner. Sukeza stepped forward and offered her mat mark without a word. The decom official scanned her mark for the embedded data, read the results, and intoned in a voice muffled by head gear, “Welcome back to Kaska, Sukeza bet Marish. May your Guidance prove fruitful.”

  “Thank you,” she said tensely and gestured behind her at the still sleeping Stryker. “This is my candidate, Chase Stryker. I’d like to make a full claim before my Mater as soon as possible.”

  The one who’d spoken nodded but they did not hurry their inspection of the ship. Two other protected individuals entered, lifting Stryker onto a gurney with effort. When they floated him through the airlock, Sukeza followed on their heels, shooting an apologetic glance over her shoulder at the waiting Maltbys.

  “Hold tight, guys. I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can.”

  They scowled at her but said nothing, which she took to mean that they were counting on her. The officials took Stryker and Sukeza through decontamination then escorted them down to medical for a thorough examination.

  When one of the staff tried to remove Stryker’s hiber-cuff, Sukeza stopped her. “Please, can we keep him asleep? He’s—it would be cruel to wake him when he still has the band on.”

  The petite woman studied her for a moment before leaving the room without a word. At least she hadn’t taken the cuff off. A moment later, one of the doctors entered the room, a crease between her brows. “You want to keep him asleep? For what reason?”

  Sukeza ran a hand through her hair, her gaze trained on Stryker’s reclined form. “The bands only suppress their will, not their awareness. It would be cruel to make him suffer before we can get that thing off him.”

  The doctor raised her eyebrows. She was a striking woman, mahogany-colored hair pulled up away from her face to spill down her back in a glossy river. “I assume he has done something to warrant a band, so one could argue that he’s meant to suffer. One could also argue that no one has authorized removal of the device.”

  “They will,” Sukeza said with manufactured certainty. “Please, it won’t hurt to keep him under, will it? As my candidate, he’s my responsibility, and I have to do everything I can for him.”

  The woman studied her again, eyes grave but noncommittal. Then she nodded. “It won’t hurt the subject. I’ll grant your request because it won’t alter your case either way.”

  Sukeza tightened her lips, annoyed by the woman’s arrogance and by her objectifying Stryker—the subject. “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

  The woman nodded and left. A moment later, a nurse entered and hooked Stryker to a machine with daunting efficiency. When she was done, she removed the cuff and left without looking at Sukeza.

  Sukeza took a shaky breath, her stomach roiling with unease and discomfort. She wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, as if she was a criminal. She knew others had abused their traditions in the past, using this route to keep criminals out of prison or mental confinement. But damn it, this wasn’t abuse—she really meant to keep him. Unless he balked. Or chose another…

  Jumping up from her seat next to Stryker’s bed, she began to pace, waiting anxiously for someone to appear. It took a very long time. She was expecting a Kaskan official or Mater council member. She hadn’t expected her mother.

  “Sukeza bet Marish, this had better be good.”

  Sukeza whirled around to see the Marish Mater standing in the doorway, hands on hips and amber eyes snapping with censure. This was a look her mother had rarely turned her way. She should have been nervous, afraid even. She should start babbling an explanation and a million apologies. What she did instead was throw herself into her mother’s arms and burst into tears.

  It took Sukeza a while to calm down and explain. She did so sitting next to Stryker, unable to leave his side. As she spoke, she found herself stroking a comforting hand down his arm and stopped, only to find herself doing it again a few sentences later.

  Her mother said nothing during her explanation, just watched her with sharp eyes and an unreadable expression. When the whole story was finished, from the murders of the boys to her arrival on the station, Myelle sighed. “I always worry about my children, especially when you leave home, but I thought I wouldn’t have to worry as much about you. My sensible, cautious child. What possible danger could you find on a farming world?”

  She shook her head and ran a gentle hand over Sukeza’s hair, before looking down at Stryker’s reclined form with a tightening of her features. “I see how attached you are, Keza, but the man is a convict. I barely glanced at his file on my way here and I was appalled by just the little I learned. He was imprisoned for legitimate reasons, deserving of the punishment he’s received. Why in the Goddess’s name would you want to bring such a man into our home?”

  Sukeza swallowed hard and tightened her fingers on Chase’s warm arm. “I read his file, too, but actions speak louder than words. I don’t know his reasons for what he’s done, but since I met him, he’s saved me even when it hurts him. He took me off that planet when it would have been easier to leave me, put himself in danger to help me get home, let the Collectors band him…” Her throat closed at the memory and she had to pause to clear it.

  “He was going to be banded anyway—”

  “So there was no point in bargaining, except to help me. He could have fought them, used me for a shield, ransomed me, could’ve left me a thousand times, but he didn’t.”

  Her mother’s brow creased in a frown. “I’m concerned that your hormones are clouding your judgment.”

  Sukeza felt her face burn with a blush and winced, dropping her gaze. “I won’t try to argue that hormones don’t come into it,” she said carefully, removing her wayward hand from Stryker and linking it with the other one in her lap. “He’s very beautiful t
o me. And I’ve become emotionally…tangled. But I can’t ignore the debt I owe him. And that band…” She rubbed her eyes with a shudder, trying to erase the memory of his face emptying. “Maybe mental containment works for others, but it’s killing him. He told me death would be better, that there’s no hope in it. For a man like him it’s torture of the worst kind, a death of the soul.”

  Her mother took her hands, amber eyes compassionate but still filled with doubt. “After what he’s done, that may be just punishment.”

  Sukeza shook her head. “I can’t equate what he’s done to the man I know. Either he committed those crimes out of extreme circumstance and necessity, or he’s changed radically. He’s not a bad man and I’m asking you to give him a chance to prove it to you.”

  Myelle studied her for a moment before turning her attention to the slumbering man. Running her eyes over him, she pursed her lips. “Let’s get some tests on him, make sure he’s physically acceptable for candidacy. If he’s cleared medically…” She slanted Sukeza a thoughtful look and sighed. “I’ll have the band removed so I can interview him.” She held up a hand before Sukeza could thank her, face hardening into stern lines. “If I don’t like what he says, Keza, I will kick him off planet before you can blink. Understood?”

  Sukeza flinched a little. “Ah, about that…I didn’t tell him about our candidacy program. He’ll probably be a little…hostile.”

  Myelle arched an eyebrow at her. “Won’t that be fun.”

  “Maybe it would help if I was there—”

  “No.”

  “I’d at least like to be there when he wakes up—”

  “No, Keza. I will interview him alone first. Unless you think I need bodyguards?”

  Under her mother’s cool look, she sighed. “No, Mom. He won’t hurt you.”

  “What a relief,” Myelle said dryly. “Leave him to me, then. Go home and talk to your brother and sisters. They should be foaming at the mouth by now.”

  With a sudden surge of anticipation, Sukeza asked, “They’re all home?”

  “All but Joy. She’s on a cycle, but the other three are waiting for you.”

  She nodded and turned to Stryker while her mother stepped over to a viewer and updated their status, giving instructions on the Maltbys and the new candidate. Staring down at Chase with a knot in her stomach, she swallowed a lump in her throat and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Goddess keep you,” she whispered, stroking his arm and twining her fingers through his. “See you soon.” Please don’t hate me.

  Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she turned away and faced her mother. “Thank you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around Myelle. “Thank you for listening and giving him a chance.”

  “He’s not one of the family yet,” Myelle responded with sardonic humor. Then she tightened her hold and kissed Sukeza on the temple. “Welcome home, Keza.”

  Her homecoming and reunion with her siblings went as she had expected. Lots of squealing from her baby sister Liss, teasing from her brother Rogue, and an abiding warm welcome from her sister Nade. They had changed, Liss growing into a stunningly lovely teenager, Rogue exuding charm and confidence in addition to his teasing nature, and Nade radiating a peaceful contentment that Keza both basked in and envied. Apparently while Keza had been away, Nade had found a lifemate in a big, sandy-haired man named Harle and had created a niece for Keza, an adorable little miracle named Shaneese. It took Keza all of five seconds to fall in love with the toddler and five minutes to see how well the congenial Harle fit into her family.

  The comfort and security of home settled on her like a well-worn glove, wrapping her in familiar warmth and a kind of calm joy that filled spaces inside her she hadn’t known were empty. The Marish House was almost exactly as she remembered it, with only minor changes to mark the passage of time. But when Myelle returned with the sleeping form of Chase Stryker, she realized that the familiar safety of home was more illusory than she’d ever imagined.

  Her mother allowed Keza to help settle her new candidate into a sleeping chamber, but then Myelle dismissed her sternly. “You will help him more by allowing me to see him without the filter of your eyes. Go away, Keza dear.”

  She went away with a feeling like her skin had shrunk, tightening over her bones and making her entire body jitter anxiously. So she did what she always did when she felt anxious—she went to the water. The beach was filled with children, an overwhelming, shrieking mass of them that made her smile in remembrance. But the level of excitement seemed too high for normal beach games, all of them clustered at the edge of the water. When she heard the call, plaintive and urgent, echoing over the waves, she realized the source of their excitement.

  Heart soaring, Keza ran to the edge of the water and searched the waves. A dark head bobbed and disappeared, before a sleek, soft gray body broke the surface of the water in an explosion of energetic emotion. “Meerie,” she whispered, stroking tender fingers over the selkie image on her arm.

  “Keza!” Liss stood in the middle of the mob of children, carrying their niece and staring with wide, shocked eyes at her sister. “They haven’t been back since you left. How did they know you were home?”

  Blood singing with joy, Keza grinned at her sister and dove fully clothed into the water without answering. She didn’t care how her selkie friends had known she’d returned, only that they were here to welcome her home. They were the other part of her family, the children of her heart, her childhood companions. She arrowed through the water, the five years of absence dropping away from her as if she’d never left.

  Meerie didn’t wait, meeting her in a wild swirl of excitement and aquatic acrobatics. Keza paused and held her arms out. The animal came to her without hesitation, snuggling into her hold as if they’d never been apart. They bobbed to the surface, and Keza felt warm trickles on her face, tears of relief and love and regret. Meerie thrummed with contentment, but Keza heard yips and squeaks around her and realized that Meerie had brought her whole family group.

  “I missed you guys,” she whispered, watching them leap out of the water and dance around her. She smiled. Now she was home.

  Chapter 9

  Stryker woke to sunlight. It streamed around him in golden beams, filling his eyes. He blinked, raising a hand to screen out the dazzle. He wasn’t used to planet light—too bright, too overwhelming. Light was supposed to be in measured doses, not flooding the senses and killing off most decent shadows. Yellow-sunned planets were the worst. So invading.

  He let his hand create a shadow over his eyes and blinked into the disorienting sparkle, trying to figure out where he was. All he saw was a small, square room, pale walls and no decorations that he could see. The furniture was an unassuming wooden chair huddled in a corner and the narrow bed he reclined on against a wall. A door stood sentry at one end of the room, facing off with the window on the other end. A deep, rhythmic thunder boomed in the distance, as if he was listening to a giant’s heartbeat.

  When his eyes became accustomed to the flare of light bathing the room in gold, he slowly sat up and looked down at himself. He was wearing thin, loose pants like sleepwear and nothing else. He’d never seen these clothes before. This place was completely unrecognizable to him.

  “Where the hell—?” he began to mutter when memory struck without mercy. A low cry wrenched out of his throat, hands colliding with his brow. No band. No band. His heart was suddenly beating fast and hard in his chest, booming along in counterpoint to the distant steady thunder beyond the room. How—?

  Keza. He remembered that she’d pulled him away from the Collectors, remembered his inner shock and elation at seeing her, his intense fear that she would be caught, and his agony at being unable to convey these things. He remembered the searing pain in his head and the panic when he began walking away from her. He remembered her tugging at him, shouting, “Stop! Come with me!” Then blackness.

  He lunged to his feet, intent on finding her. But the door opened before he could lurch towa
rd it and a woman entered. She had Keza’s eyes. He stared at her warily, like an animal caught in mid-flight.

  “I’m Mater Myelle bet Marish. You are a very lucky man.” She spoke in a steady, uninflected voice, but there was a hint of humor in the corners of her mouth.

  “Where’s Keza?” He was startled to hear the harsh urgency in his voice and realized that his heart hadn’t slowed.

  Her dark eyebrows rose. “Keza is it? Hmm.” She moved unhurriedly to the chair, settling into it with a self-assurance that grated on his nerves. She looked a lot like her daughter, with similar delicate features and form, except that her dark hair was kissed with gray. She also had a few lines around her eyes and mouth, and her features were sharpened by maturity. This sharpness and the way she stared at him with quiet authority gave him the impression of a she-wolf.

  “Please, sit,” she said, waving him back to the bed. Her mat mark flashed vivid, warning color at him, before disappearing again when she lowered her arm. “We have quite a lot to discuss.”