by Jacey Jenson
Bobby slipped into the alley, lightly touched Dennis' arm. "We going to the infirmary?"
"Yeah." Dennis stepped to the corner. He couldn't see any movement in the fog. He motioned for Bobby to follow, then headed toward the southwest corner, keeping to heavy patches of fog.
They reached their goal without being seen by the sentinel. Bobby faced the compound as look-out, while Dennis tried to get the door open. Locked from the inside, it still refused to budge after several frustrating minutes of work.
Disgusted, Dennis moved to the window, tried to jimmy it open. The lock gave way with a low metallic groan. Dennis sighed with relief, shoved it up higher. Just as he began to climb in, an alarm shrilled. Dennis lost his balance, fell against the shatter-proof glass. The window banged down catching his foot. He was hung!
Dennis twisted, trying to get enough leverage to pull his foot loose. He couldn't do it. Over the shrill whistle, he heard sentinel shouting orders. Panic gripped him, then he felt Bobby grab him under the arms and yank back. Dennis sprawled on top of Bobby as his foot came free. Scrambling to his feet, he pulled Bobby up. He half dragged Bobby to the shadows at the side of the warder's apartment building.
Dennis pressed himself to the apartment wall, trembling in realization of the true seriousness of their offense. The best they could hope for at the hands of the sentinel, should they be caught, was instant death. Trying to watch in all directions at once, he managed to regain a small measure of control. He crept to the corner, and looked around, dodging back as two sentinel ran out of the soupy mist toward him.
"Shhh," he hissed at Bobby. Wondering what to do now, Dennis leaned his head back on the wall, staring at the starless, cloud covered sky. His throat ached, a bitter cold despair numbed his chest. I failed, he thought. Denny Joe is going to die! He blinked, rigidly holding his tears in check.
A door set into the wall between Dennis and Bobby unexpectedly opened. No lights shown from inside to illuminate the two slaves. Dennis held his breath, stood perfectly still, as one of the warders stepped outside to see what the noise was about. She had her hair down around her shoulders, hiding her face from Dennis. She stood there for several minutes, watching and listening. Her sigh was almost inaudible, as she turned to return to her rooms.
She flinched, took an involuntary step back, and gasped as she found herself face to face with Dennis.
Chapter 6
Warder Leanan bolted upright in her bed. Gasping, wide-eyed, she stared around the dark room before she closed her eyes with a deep shuddering sigh of relief. She had been dreaming. Again. She frowned, and wiped sweat off her face with both hands. The unholy noise she had, in her nightmare, believed to be laser whine, still shrilled in the darkness. What could make that much noise? Then she knew. The security alarm had been set off. Impulsively, she shoved the comforter off her legs, hurried through her apartment to the front door, and yanked it open.
Several steps outside, she stopped, looked around. The alarm echoed hollowly through the thick fog swaddling the compound. Leanan peered through the gauzy air, but couldn't see anything. Two sentinel ran out of the mist toward the infirmary, their red and black uniforms soon swallowed by the thick fog. After several minutes, she began to shiver as cold, moist air prickled her skin. She decided it was too cold to watch longer, sighed, and turned to re-enter her apartment.
She took a step, reached for the door, then saw a hulking black shadow looming at her right. Her breath caught in her throat. She automatically jerked a step backward, opened her mouth to scream. Before she found the breath for her shout, though, she realized he was one of the vadagz in her kennel. Trembling, she swallowed with the effort not to release the screams crowding her throat. She took a quick look over her shoulder. There were four sentinel in sight. They hadn't seen him. Yet.
Wondering if she had brain rot, she touched one finger to her lips, gestured for him to enter her apartment. She could barely make out the startled expression on his face. He looked beyond her at the sentinel, then met her gaze. His eyes narrowed. He licked his lips nervously, then motioned for her to lead the way inside.
Confused, Leanan stepped inside. He followed on her heels. She put her palm on his chest, pushed him out of the way, and moved to shut the door. She gasped as another slave shoved in, before she could get it more than half shut.
“Are there any more out there?" she asked, in a strained whisper. Soundlessly, they both shook their heads. She snapped the lock and beckoned them to follow her into the inner room. She uttered a low command; the lights came on. Leanan whirled to face them, her eyes aflame with anger.
"Are you frilty? What were you doing out there?" She caught her breath when the red-headed vadagz lifted his head. Soul destroying pain shimmered in the depths of his eyes. "Are you hurt?" she asked, remembering the sentinel racing toward the infirmary. He shook his head no. Tapping her foot, Leanan pressed her lips together. She was beginning to wish she had slept through the alarm.
A noise behind her brought her head around. The second vadagz had opened her closet. Evidently he wasn't interested in the five uniforms and two gowns he found. He shut the door, then turned toward the door next to it. Maybe he needs to go, she thought when he walked into the sancube. Then she felt a shaft of fear shoot down her spine. "Don't open that," she hissed.
His hand stopped above the open switch for the door on the far side of the cubicle. He glanced at her, a question in his eyes.
"It leads . . .." Leanan cleared her throat, and tried again. "It leads to Warder Druelah's apartment.” Her gaze flickered to Druelah’s door. She sighed. Druelah must not have heard her outcry.
The blonde vadagz gave the door a long considering look, then still without speaking, returned to the bedroom. He shut the sancube door, and snapped the privacy lock. Unsure whether to be angry or relieved, Leanan bowed her head. She rubbed the back of her neck with her left hand. When she looked up, he was still standing by the sancube door. He was frowning, puzzlement on his face.
“Why didn't you shout for the sentinel, my Lady?" he asked. Sweat matted his blond hair to his forehead, and dripped onto his face.
"Why were you trying to get into the infirmary?" she countered.
"That's none of your . . .."
"Bobby, shut up."
Leanan's attention was caught by the suppressed violence in the red-head’s voice. She glanced at him and felt a momentary doubt. This one looked like he wouldn't mind tearing her apart, if he decided he needed to. "You could have turned us in," he said. "Why take a chance on getting yourself into trouble?"
Leanan sighed as she returned his penetrating gaze. She was so tired. Tired of the sadness and pain her life had become. "I didn't want you to die." Her voice caught.
Confusion flashed across his handsome face, then was gone. "Why not? Would you care?"
"I just . . . I've seen too much . . . I couldn't . . . why were you trying to get into the infirmary?” She watched him wipe his hands on his pants.
"Denny Joe," he finally said. "The baby. He's sick. Zraivi, we think.” He looked at the floor. "I was trying to get some kelna for his fever. If it doesn't break soon, he's going to die."
Leanan caught her lip in her teeth. After a moment, she curled her fingers under his chin, raised his face to see his eyes. "So, you would risk your life for this child?"
"He's my son, my lady.” The misery in his voice, the anguish in his eyes, struck an answering chord within Leanan. Her gaze clouded with tears.
"I see.” She came to a decision, released his chin. "I have some kelna capsules. Do you wish to take them?"
The slaves exchanged startled glances. "Yes, my lady," the red-head said, with an eager nod. Red ringlets fell forward across his forehead.
Leanan walked the short distance to the sancube, unlocked it, and stepped inside to search a small cabinet. She selected a blue vial. As she turned to leave, the door behind her opened. She whirled to face Warder Druelah, hiding the vial behind her.
"Le
anan, did you hear? Someone tried to break into the infirmary!"
Leanan blinked. "Why?"
Druelah grinned. "Maybe they wanted some poidivi."
"Poidivi?” Feeling her fist tighten on the vial, Leanan frowned. "Why would vadagz want that?"
Druelah's soft laugh musically filled the room. "Who said it was a slave?” She lowered her voice, leaned forward. "I'd bet it was Brezlah. You know how she is.” Honey colored eyes sparkling, Druelah snickered. "She's stupid enough not to know the windows would be rigged to an alarm."
Leanan heard furtive footsteps approach the door. A strained smile touched her lips. Druelah was her best friend. At least, she used to be, years ago, but Leanan didn't know how she would react should she learn of the slaves in Leanan's apartment. "Well," she said, covering a yawn with her empty hand, "I think I'll go back to bed."
"Bed? How can you sleep now? Join me in a cup of wealla."
"Not tonight, Druelah. I'm really tired."
"Too tired for wealla?” Druelah frowned and stepped closer, her intent gaze on Leanan's face. "Are you alright? You're never too tired to drink a cup of tea."
"I'm fine.” Leanan searched her mind for an excuse Druelah would accept. "I had another of those nightmares," she said, rushing her words together. She brought her hand from behind her back, showed the vial of kelna to Druelah. "All I want to do is take some medicine and go back to bed."
Leanan saw the concern in the other warder's eyes, felt tears gather in her own, as she realized Druelah was remembering the day Gavin, Leanan's brother, had died. Back then, so long ago, Druelah had been privy to all Leanan's secrets. Then, Leanan's world had fallen apart. Not once, but twice. Leanan felt a flash of guilt.
She had been so preoccupied with her own problems since arriving, she hadn't asked Druelah what she had done to be assigned to the compound. She wondered briefly why Druelah was no longer in the Intersteller Guard. The last time they had seen each other, Druelah had received orders for her first tour of space duty. Afraid she had been the cause of Druelah's misfortune, Leanan promised herself that she would discuss it, and sort things out between them. Soon.
"Are you sure?" asked Druelah. Worry lines creased her forehead. "If you need someone to talk to . . .."
"Please, Druelah," Leanan interrupted. She backed a step toward her bedroom. "I don't want to talk about it right now. All I need is some sleep. Goodnight, I'll talk to you in the morning, okay?"
Druelah gave a hesitant nod. "Okay. Goodnight."
Before Druelah could change her mind, Leanan walked into her bedroom, shut the door and snapped the lock. She leaned against the door. She tossed the kelna to the red-headed slave. Through the door at her back, she heard Druelah moving around in sancube. She motioned the two slaves into the front room, then followed them.
Worried the sentinel would see the slaves’ shadows on the window shades, Leanan left the light in the front room off. She dropped into a chair, stared at her hands in the vague light. She stifled a giggle as reaction set in. "Poor Druelah. She probably thinks I've gone frilty."
The baby's father cleared his throat. Leanan glanced up, found him shifting from one foot to the other. "I need to get this medicine to Denny Joe," he said.
"Did you need anything else?"
"No, my lady."
"Will he drink? Are you getting any fluids in him?"
Miserably, he shook his head, he eyes bleak. "He won't take water, or wealla, and he won't nurse."
"I'll get you some fruit juice.” She hurried to the claustrophobic kitchen. After digging through an overhead cabinet, she found the box she was looking for. "Do you know how to use concentrates?"
"No."
"Can you read?” Leanan glanced up to see his nod. "Good. The instructions are on the box. I'd give you fresh juice, but it would ruin without cooleration. This will keep indefinitely.” Leanan returned to the living area, pressed the box into his hands.
"Each tablet makes a half measure, but it's a little strong. Might be better to make a full measure with each for the baby. If you're careful with it, it should last until he gets well."
"Why are you helping us?" asked the baby's father. Distrust and caution shown in his green eyes.
Leanan looked at him, while deciding whether to explain. Her expression one of pained tolerance, she glanced at the blonde, then turned her attention back to the red-head. "I suppose you're going to insist. Do you know much about Thali geography? I don't know your name . . .."
“Dennis.” As an afterthought, he added, "My lady."
"Dennis. Well, do you?"
"No."
Leanan looked at the blonde slave. "You're Bobby?"
"Yes, my Lady.” He grinned. "And no, I don't know anything about it, either."
From outside, Leanan heard a whistle, then shouts, barely audible over the alarm's piercing shrill. She watched the door apprehensively, then shrugged and looked at Dennis. "It's going to be a while, yet, before I can take you back to your kennel. Would you like some tea?"
Bobby paced the floor. "Are you going to tell us why?"
"Yes.” She frowned at him. "Do you want some tea?"
"We do, yes," said Dennis, aiming a scowl at Bobby. "Thank you."
While water was heating, Leanan set three mugs on the counter. Into each, she measured a scant spoonful of wealla powder. Bobby snickered. Leanan arched an eyebrow at him. "Something is funny?"
Embarrassed, Bobby ducked his head. "No, my Lady."
"You were laughing.” She waited for him to look up. "Why?"
He hesitated, then grinned sheepishly. "I just never knew Thali could be domestic."
Leanan blinked, startled. Domestic? Thali? She started to laugh. "Most aren't," she admitted. "At least, not anymore. They'd rather push a button, or call one of you.” The heating unit chimed. Leanan filled the mugs, stirred the resultant brew. "Here," she said, handing each a mug. "Sit down."
After the Terrans were seated on the sofa next to the front door, Leanan walked to the chair facing them. She sat down, then sipped her tea, reminding them that they, too, should taste it. She studied them quietly, noting Dennis' worried impatience, Bobby's tense nerves.
"This continent," she began, "is separated from the southern continent by a narrow strait. My mother owned a farm settlement just north of the strait. My father lived just south. I'm the only Thali I know of, to have known her father. Mother would let him stay with us for months at a time.
"When my brother, Gavin, was born, she kept him with her, even though that was against the Temple Precepts.” A sad smile played thoughtfully about her lips. "He was a wonderful child, full of laughter and joy. I took care of him, when Mother couldn't.” Her chin quivered. "Not long after his fifth name-day, my aunt came to visit. She wanted Mother to send me to the temple, though at the time, I wasn't old enough to be required to go, yet. We weren't expecting her. Gavin was playing outside; my father was repairing a fence nearby. Aunt Sharii reported them. I . . . I still have nightmares about . . .” She choked on her words, looked up to see the sympathy on their faces. She took a deep breath. "Mother was arrested, and later slaved. I don't know where she is, now.
"I was sent to live with my aunt. She sent me to the temple for training.” Leanan shuddered, remembering the Conception Feast she had been forced to attend. "When my son was born a year ago, I ran away. I thought I might take him south, live there with him, but . . . I was caught."
"What happened to your brother and your father?" asked Bobby.
"The sentinel killed them. Murdered them.” They were quiet for several minutes. Leanan took the time to calm herself, to thrust away the memories of her son, and the callous way the sentinel killed him, when they caught her. It took several moments, but she managed to thrust the memories back into the closet she reserved for them in her mind. She sipped her tea, then swirled the liquid in the mug.
“The temple teaches that such women as my mother, and myself, are weak. They say that we are unfit for Kaliat's s
ervice, and wish for men to control us, as they did our foremothers, that we might feel more secure.” She stared with unfocused eyes, seeing only the past.
"Do you?" asked Dennis, quietly.
"What?” Leanan brought her attention back to the vadagz, realizing that the dark room was too conducive to sharing intimacies. She had already told them more than she had intended to.
"Want men to control you?" asked Dennis.
"No, but I don't feel the need to control them, either. My father taught me a lot about relationships.” The security alarm gave one last screech, then was suddenly silent. The abrupt quiet brought Leanan out of her reflective mood.
Dennis stood up to peek out the window. Leanan knew he was worried about Denny Joe. "Are they still out there?" she asked.
"Yes."
"They probably will be most of the night.” She waved a hand at Bobby. "If Bobby doesn't mind staying here, and if you," she looked at Dennis, "will follow my lead, I may be able to get you back without too much trouble."
"I'll do anything you say, Warder. Denny Joe needs this medicine really bad."
"Okay.” An impish smile curved her lips, danced in her eyes. "Have you ever been drunk?” Her smile widened, as Dennis gave her a slow, cautious nod. Liquor was forbidden to vadagz.
"Once or twice. Why?"
Leanan laughed, when he nervously wiped moist hands on his thighs. She twisted around, opened a hidden door behind her chair and removed a bottle of Terlin whiskey. "Take a sip," she said, handing him the bottle, "and sprinkle some on your clothes."
Dennis looked at the full bottle in his hand, then gave her a suspicious look. "What for?"
"You're going to convince anyone who stops us that I've gotten you too drunk to have had anything to do with the break-in."
Dennis raised an eyebrow, but did as she instructed. He gasped as liquid fire burned down his throat, then handed the bottle back to her. Leanan grinned at his grimace, and took a sip. Tears came to her eyes as she tried, unsuccessfully, to keep from choking. Whoever left the whiskey behind when they moved out of her apartment had to have had their insides lined with durolloy, she decided. Her expression rueful, she dabbed the alcohol on her gown, then took the whiskey to the kitchen. She poured over half of the liquid down the drain, and set the bottle on the counter.
