by M. R. Forbes
"Ehri, no," Donovan said.
She froze next to him. "What?"
Donovan swallowed his nerves, taking a few steps in the pur'dahm's direction. He hoped he understood the customs.
"Call off your soldiers, Til'ek," he said. "We can settle this here and now."
The bek'hai seemed amused. "Hesh dur bek?"
Ehri had taught him those words. An honor fight. A duel.
"Yes."
"I will crush you."
"Hand to hand in your armor, you will. Will you fight on my terms?"
"Name them."
"Ehri, did you ever watch streams from the twentieth century? Westerns?"
"Westerns?"
"Gunfights? Two people at opposite ends of a street, ready to draw their weapons?" He had seen an old stream of it once. He knew people settled their differences that way centuries ago. It was the most fair fight he could have with the Dread pur'dahm.
She considered for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, I do remember something like that, once."
"Can you describe it to that asshole in his language, so we're clear?"
"Of course."
Ehri barked at the pur'dahm in the bek'hai's guttural language, describing how it worked. Donovan noticed that the sounds of violence had paused in the distance. Til'ek must have ordered his troops to stand down.
Donovan's eyes fell back to Diaz's body. He felt the anger welling up. It was his fault she was dead. He shouldn't have let her go off on her own, but she had always been so good at evading the enemy. He wouldn't fail again.
"When I am victorious, your people will be forfeit to me," Til'ek said. "And you will return to the Domo'dahm and explain yourself."
"If I win, your forces will retreat from this area," Donovan said. "On foot."
"You want the ship? I piloted it here, lor'hai. You cannot use it."
The words were a blow. Ehri's face showed her frustration for an instant before returning to calm. Donovan fought hard to keep his emotions from becoming apparent. Even if he won, they were still going to be on foot. Maybe they could at least salvage something from the vehicle.
"On foot," he repeated. "And these people are to be spared."
"I do not have the power to promise that. Only the Domo'dahm can spare your people, and he chooses not to. I can offer three days."
Donovan glanced at Ehri. She nodded. He was telling the truth.
"Agreed."
The pur'dahm bowed his head slightly. Donovan knew it was a show of respect. He did the same. Then they approached one another, for a moment standing face to face. The bek'hai was shorter than him without the armor, slightly taller with it.
They didn't speak, turning back-to-back. Then they walked away from one another, fifty steps each before turning around again.
Donovan held the Dread rifle at his side, staring across the distance to Til'ek. The Dread was holding his weapon almost casually. He was arrogant. He didn't believe a human could outmatch him at anything.
Donovan would make sure it was his undoing.
They faced off, motionless and silent. Donovan caught movement in the corner of his eye. The Dread clones, the scavengers, Soon and Doc Iwu had all come to witness this. He couldn't see Iwu's face when she noticed Diaz's body. He didn't dare lose his concentration.
Til'ek twitched, his rifle rising from his hip.
Time seemed to stop.
Donovan began lifting his weapon. He could hear every heartbeat in his ears, sense every molecule of air against his face, smell every scent of death and blood and burning. It all happened so fast, and yet so slow. He got the rifle up in one hand. The pur'dahm did the same.
He squeezed the trigger, the plasma bolt rocketing across the distance. Til'ek had yet to take his shot.
The Dread saw the bolt coming. He fired back in desperation, his bolt going wide as Donovan's blast hit him square in the chest. The plasma pierced his armor, burning a hole through it and his flesh. He didn't seem to understand the rules. He stumbled, trying to get his rifle up and shoot again, sending a bolt into the ground ahead of Donovan. A second bolt from Donovan's right it the pur'dahm in the face. Ehri. The body tumbled to the dirt.
Silence. Til'ek's corpse rested a few meters from Diaz. Donovan let himself breathe, the tears springing up as soon as the moment had passed. The scavengers and the bek'hai clones all remained in place, shocked and confused.
"Yes," he heard Soon shout from his left.
The pilot's voice shattered the tense aftermath. The scavengers raised their rifles, aiming them at the clones. The clones didn't fight back.
At once, they all turned and began to walk away.
Donovan ran to Diaz, crouching down next to her. The teddy bear she had salvaged from the silo was hanging by its neck from her belt. He reached down and took it, holding it tight in his hand while he let the tears come. He hadn't cried for his mother like this, but then, he had never seen her body.
Ehri stepped up next to him, putting her hand on his shoulder.
"The bek'hai have no death rituals," she said awkwardly. "Death just is. I'm sorry."
"We'll help you bury her," Murphy said. "It's the least we can do."
"You have three days," Donovan said, looking up at him. "That's all I could get you."
"It will have to be enough. We've been running from them for years. It's getting harder, but we do what we have to. You saved our lives here. You saved my daughter's life."
"And my son's," one of the other scavenger said.
"And ours." Donovan recognized the woman that had been trapped behind the car.
"Ehri, check the transport," Donovan said. "See if there's anything we can use. Unsecured weapons, hopefully."
"Yes, sir," Ehri said, moving away.
Soon and Iwu made their way to him.
"I'm sorry," Soon said.
"So am I," Iwu said.
"We won today," Soon added. "Thanks to you, and to her. These people are alive because of us."
Donovan smiled. In this world, the best any of them could hope for was not to die for nothing.
Diaz hadn't.
TWENTY-SIX
Tea'va shuddered slightly as the Ishur came off of the last of the fourteen slipspace waves, the universe coming back into focus through the viewport. At first, all he saw was empty space and a few stars through eyes blurred by too much time in the void. They regained themselves within seconds, and he turned his head to survey the crew beneath him.
Gr'el seemed to be the next least affected. He leaned forward at his station, shaking slightly, before sitting back and looking around. The clones were faring the worst. Some sat motionless. Others vomited onto the floor.
One fell from his chair, dead.
Fourteen. It had to be a record. Just remembering the sequence of returning to realspace, accelerating to the next point, and joining the slipstream again made Tea'va feel dizzy once more.
He had to stop thinking about it.
He stood up, fighting off the instability of his legs. It was as if his body had yet to return to the same spacetime, and was moving out of sync with his mind. He leaned against the side of the dais as he descended.
"Gr'el, you have the bridge," he said as he passed the pur'dahm.
"Yes, Dahm," Gr'el replied.
"Get a report on the health of the lor'hai. Begin scanning the system for signs of the human ship."
"Yes, Dahm."
Tea'va made his way from the bridge. The days in slipspace had given him an appropriate amount of time to adapt to being in command. He had calmed a bit as a result, feeling more confident and less defensive. The crew knew who was in charge. Even Gr'el grudgingly accepted it for now. He was certain his Si'dahm was plotting against him, but Gr'el had not even tried to be subtle about that. It was all part of the game, and his responsibility to see it coming.
Zoelle had been valuable in that regard. He had found an ally in the un'hai, one who was eager to please him. He had confided in her about Gr'el's position, and
she had quietly organized a network of spies to watch the Si'dahm and ensure he was not creating a faction of his own. So far he wasn't, but it was still early.
As much as he had wanted to hate the clone before they had met, he had become quite fond of her. He had no interest in her body, or in trying to breed with her. Rather, he appreciated her analytical mind and her genuine intellect and ability to reason through challenging problems. He had gone to her to discuss his position in the cell on more than one occasion, and she had provided discourse that he had always been lacking.
When the human ship was destroyed, and he returned to Earth to take the bek'hai from the Domo'dahm, he would do it with Zoelle as his heil'bek. He was certain that with her input, there was nothing that he couldn't accomplish.
At the same time, there was a part of him that was disgusted with the thought. He had come into being with the idea that he didn't need anybody to help him do anything. He would rise to power on his own, under his own strength, and when he ruled the bek'hai he would do it his way and his way only.
How had this creature, a lor'hai, changed his perspective so quickly?
Had this same fate befallen the Domo'dahm? Was that why the original un'hai had become so revered?
He would have to be careful, and work harder to keep his emotions in check. It was one thing to value the opinion of the un'hai. It was another to rush into giving her such control.
She was waiting for him in his quarters when he reached them. He hadn't requested her presence, and for a moment he was angry that she had been so presumptuous. Maybe it was better to retire her now and avoid complications later? But she had plotted this course, a complex masterpiece of mathematics, and gotten them to the Pol'tik system ahead of the human ship. Surely, that kind of performance deserved a little forgiveness.
"Zoelle," Tea'va said, remaining calm. "Why have you come to see me?"
She was standing near the viewport, looking out at the newly refocused stars. Her gori'shah covered the length of her arms and neck and fell to the heels of her feet. It was also loose around her chest, making her gender less apparent. It was a more conservative look than the last time he had seen her. He approved.
"Dahm Tea'va," she said, turning and sweeping her head low in a strong sign of servitude. "My apologies for intruding. I would not if it were not important."
"What is your concern?" Tea'va asked.
"I have been studying the effects of the compounded slipspace maneuvers on the health of the crew, both drumhr and lor'hai, to help educate future needs to follow a similar trajectory."
"And what did you discover?"
"Forty percent of the drumhr are sick beyond operating capacity. It is a higher number than I had hoped, but it is still within range of my calculations. Interestingly, Var'ek, like yourself, did not suffer any ill effect from the travel."
"I would not say that I have not felt unwell. You also appear to have escaped unharmed."
"I have been too consumed with my work to tell one spacetime from another." She smiled at that. Tea'va cocked his head in curiosity, and the smile vanished. "The lor'hai did not fare as well, Dahm. Ninety-five percent are unable to perform their duties, and two percent of them did not survive the trip. By my estimates, it will take four days before the crew is well enough to be back at full operational capability."
"I already know the lor'hai are weak," Tea'va said. "While you overassessed their capability, I assumed what you have just stated as true. I am not surprised."
"With your permission, Dahm, I urge caution in the next few days. With our numbers at their current levels, we would be hard-pressed to mount a serious offensive should the human starship arrive."
"Caution?" Tea'va said. That statement started to make him angry. "Their ship has no weapons. Once we have caught up to them, we can destroy them at our leisure. I trust you won't let them slip away again?"
"No, Dahm. I will not. Even so, I ask that you consider that the humans may have succeeded in reverse-engineering our technology and that they may have already produced one or more weapons capable of damaging the lek'shah. Also, there is the matter of the slipspace variability in this system that could become a detriment, for as much as we have used it as an asset."
"You overestimate them as you overestimated the lor'hai. They have not had enough time to determine the properties of the weapon so soon. In fact, I don't believe they will ever comprehend the nature of the technology. Their methods and understanding are too primitive to make the proper logical assumptions."
"I disagree, Dahm Tea'va," Zoelle said, keeping her head low as she did. "The humans caught us off-guard, both in their ability to escape with the weapon and in their ability to escape from Earth. They have proven to be unpredictable and resourceful, and I believe that makes them dangerous."
Tea'va stared at Zoelle. "You almost sound as though you admire them."
"I am intrigued by their actions, as any scientifically minded clone would be. I wish only to serve you, Dahm, and offer you my opinion, as you have specifically requested it in the past. You have shared your political ambitions with me, and I would like to see you achieve them."
"Those are the right words. I am curious about your motivation."
"When you have power, I will have power. It is as simple as that."
"I did not believe the lor'hai hungered for such things. You are less. You will always be less."
They were sharp words, but they drew no reaction from her. "Within the right contexts, with the right pur'dahm as Domo'dahm, I believe I can be more."
They were both silent for a moment while Tea'va considered her words. If she had been any other lor'hai, he would have dismissed them already. He did value her opinions, her honesty, and her subservience.
"I will think on what you have said. Go now. I require time in the regeneration chamber."
Zoelle swept herself low again. "Yes, Dahm. Thank you, Dahm."
She was heading for the exit when Gr'el's voice pierced the room.
"Dahm Tea'va, my apologies for the disruption, but our scans have returned an anomaly near the edge of the system. I believe we have found them."
TWENTY-SEVEN
Tea'va hurried from his quarters with Zoelle trailing a few meters behind him. His legs were still unsteady from the slipspace travel, his excitement growing at their immediate success. The un'hai behind him had made it possible, and if power were what she was after, he would be sure to reward her for that.
"Where are they?" he asked as he gained the bridge. The crew was supposed to stand and lower their heads in deference, and some tried, but many were too unwell to react quickly enough.
Gr'el brought up a star map, a holographic view of the system that hung in the center of the bridge. The Ishur was obvious near one side of the system. A purple shape hung at the other side. The anomaly.
"It may not be the humans, Dahm," Zoelle said. "Only an unexpected mass within the system, based on our prior mappings and projections."
"What else would it be?" Gr'el asked. "The Azera?"
"Not this far from their home world," Tea'va said. "It has to be the humans." He glanced at Zoelle. "Or do you have another guess?"
"No, Dahm."
She wouldn't dare repeat what she had said to him in his quarters in front of Gr'el and the crew. Even so, her reaction forced him to consider it. The lor'hai were sick and even the drumhr were at half-strength. At the moment the Ishur was barely able to stay operational. If the enemy had managed to harness the technology to damage the ship's armor, they would be on much more equal footing in a fight.
If they had conquered the technology. The plasma weapons were deceptively simple things, and the most important components were at nano-scale. Did the human ship even possess the means to see that deeply into the internals?
He doubted it.
"How quickly can we intercept?"
"Six hours, Dahm," Gr'el said.
"Zoelle, what will the state of the crew be in that time?"
"N
ot optimal, Dahm. A ten percent improvement, if that."
Tea'va could tell by her expression that she was trying to warn him subtly against moving forward once more. Some part of her believed the humans were capable of creating a weapon, and that the Heil'shur would be skilled enough to use it to destroy them. He didn't understand how that could be.
"We cannot let them slip away again," Gr'el said. "We must move forward now before they can reach a stream."
"If they run, we can follow," Zoelle said.
"Why is this lor'hai on the bridge, Tea'va?" Gr'el replied. "I do not recall you requesting her here, and I certainly did not."
Tea'va felt the fury rising within him. Gr'el wanted to make him look like a fool.
"If I did not want her here, she would not be here," he growled.
He didn't have the option of heeding her words now. It would make him look weak. Not that he was going to, anyway.
"Set a course for the anomaly at full thrust. Gr'el, order the Gi'shah Dahm to assess his drumhr and prepare the combat ready. Also, get an assessment of how many plasma batteries we have the crew to operate. We will devise our strategy based on our operational efficiencies."
"Yes, Dahm" Gr'el said.
"Zoelle, you are dismissed. Scientists have no place in war."
She bowed low, the subtle change in her face telling him she didn't approve.
Fortunately, the decision wasn't hers.
He stared at the purple blob in the middle of the display. His crew was sick from the many slips it had taken to reach the system, but it was a risk that was already bearing results. He hadn't come this far to back away once the humans came into his sights.
"Prepare for battle."
TWENTY-EIGHT
Gabriel was getting worried.
Twenty days had passed since the Magellan had dropped back into realspace.
Twenty days since his father had vanished from the bridge, retreating to his quarters to battle his addiction to the pain medication and to battle his ability to handle the pain.
Twenty days out of twenty-two that would see them reaching the planetary system where they could finally rejoin a slipstream and make their way back home.
