Dark Nadir

by Lisanne Norman

  “It’s in the records, Commander. I had him implanted because when he was woken, he began to go into uncontrollable seizures. His very life was at risk. All I had left to try was the implant. Once it was in place, the seizures stopped. As well as saving his life, because he’s been implanted, there are certain tests I’m able to run that are increasing our knowledge of their telepathic abilities. I couldn’t do them if he’d been kept with the others.”

  “I see he’s a telepath, one of a threesome with the Human female from the other cryogenic unit. Given the strong nature of their mental links to each other, they’ll want him back. We can offer an exchange. Kusac for Prince Zsurtul and this General Kezule.”

  Chy’qui frowned. “Commander, if he’s to be returned, then my research . . .”

  “Will stop immediately,” interrupted Q’ozoi. “Getting our Enlightened One back is more important.”

  Zayshul hid a smile behind a hastily raised hand.

  “This implant, can you remove it now he’s cured?”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t so easy,” said Chy’qui. “The implants aren’t intended to be removed, Commander. Once attached to the recipient, they bind themselves into the brain tissue.”

  Q’ozoi sat up in his seat, eyes narrowing as he glared at Chy’qui. “Why wasn’t I informed about this matter before he was implanted? We could have returned him to a stasis unit and given him back to his own people to cure.”

  “I believe that was why he was in their cryo unit in the first place, Commander. And there wasn’t time. We had no drugs we could use, and his condition had deteriorated too much for stasis to be an option. In the circumstances, an implant was worth trying.”

  Q’ozoi hissed angrily as he got to his feet. “I question your judgement, Doctor. The Kz’adul’s mission is to pursue a treaty with the Sholans. You may be a counselor to the Emperor, but your decisions over allowing Prince Zsurtul to experiment with J’koshuk and implanting the Sholan are flawed in the extreme. They could cost us our only useful potential allies! You’re relieved of any responsibility for the Sholan. You will confine yourself to attending to the M’zullians. I had none of these problems when Doctor Zayshul was in charge of Med Research! You can be sure I’ll lodge a complaint with the authorities when we return home.”

  He turned to look at Zayshul. “Doctor Zayshul, I’m putting you in charge of our Sholan’s well-being. Get the TeLaxaudin onto it. Tell them they have to find a way to remove that implant. Once repairs to the hull have been completed, we’ll be following the U’Churian ship. I want this Sholan fit to hand back to his people as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, Commander,” said Zayshul.

  “I’ll expect a report from you within the next six hours,” he said, heading for the door. He stopped, turning round to look at her one more time. “Glad you managed to survive the hull breech, Doctor. We lost too many people before we got the force field up.”

  * * *

  Consciousness returned suddenly, bringing with it the smell of antiseptic and an awareness of paralysis as Kusac tried to move his head and found he couldn’t.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” said a voice nearby. “I am Commander Q’ozoi of the science ship Kz’adul. You were injured and have been sleeping in our medical center while your injuries healed. In a few days, we hope to rendezvous with your people and return you to them.”

  A voice, not a translator, speaking Sholan. It sounded like J’koshuk’s but it wasn’t. He took a deep breath, searching underneath the antiseptic for other scents. Valtegan, but not one he recognized. One of M’ezozakk’s crew?

  “I need some information from you.”

  He tried to laugh and found himself coughing and beginning to choke.

  “Release the restraint field and get him some water.”

  A guttural reply was cut short by an explosive comment, then suddenly he could move again.

  Immediately he rolled on his side, a task made difficult by the formfitting bed, and continued to cough. A bowl shaped cup was handed to him and he took it gratefully, gulping down all the water. His throat eased, he looked up. Standing by his bed, clad in a military style gray one-piece, stood a Valtegan. He looked unlike any Valtegan Kusac had seen before. The hairless skull wasn’t smooth, it was crested with a knobbed rigid extrusion, like a continuation of its spine, running back from where his nose joined the forehead. Below it, dark green, slightly bulbous eyes regarded him.

  Kusac pushed himself up into a sitting position. The bed seemed to relax around him, losing the configuration of his body and reverting to an oval shape.

  He moved slowly and stiffly, finding he still hurt in many places, principally his head, ribs, and groin muscles.

  “I thought J’koshuk had beaten everything you wanted to know out of me,” he said.

  “You have my apologies for that. He should not have been allowed near you. He has been dealt with.”

  Kusac stared at him. “Sure,” he said, looking beyond the Seniormost to the armed guard standing behind him.

  “You are probably wondering how you come to be on our ship. A signal was recently received from an ancient device of ours, one associated with the Sholans. The Kz’adul was sent to investigate and to make contact with your people. As we approached Jalna, we saw an enemy ship, the M’ijikk, attack and board your craft. We decided to intervene on your behalf. The crew of the Rryuk’s Profit have been well treated, and the Human female was healed. You were taken ill when you were revived so we kept you separate.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, mildly curious as he continued looking round the room. It was large, well lit, with three more intensive care beds like his. All were empty. By the door stood another two armed guards.

  “Because we have a common enemy and wish a treaty with you.”

  Kusac looked back at the Seniormost. He felt anger, but it was distant, as if not really part of him. “What common enemy?”

  “The Valtegans from the M’ijikk whom you fought on the Human world of Keiss, and the J’kirtikkans with whom they’re at war.”

  “You’re from another Valtegan world?”

  “We’re from the home world, yes.”

  “The world that ruled your empire?” His interest was beginning to grow a little. Memories of Valtegans on Keiss were coming back to him, of their fear and psychotic hatred of Sholans.

  “Our ancient empire, yes. These days, we only wish to defend ourselves against the M’zullians and the J’kirtikkians. Now that one ship has discovered Jalna, others will follow. All who trade there are at risk from the M’zullians’ and J’kirtikkians’ warlike nature. Our envoy explained this to your crew, but they chose to leave without taking the treaty papers. Why would they not agree to an alliance?”

  He was having difficulty getting past the fact that he was having a rational conversation with a Valtegan. “I don’t know. Perhaps they didn’t think you were hospitable enough.” This was confusing. Was he saying they’d escaped? If so, then his family were safe. The knowledge should please him, he knew it should, but again, he felt remote from it.

  “We need your help. We can’t be sure those on the Rryuk’s Profit will present our petition accurately. The location of your home world, Shola, is known to us. We wish to go there but you have system defenses. We need you to take us through them so we can put our case to your leaders ourselves.”

  Shock reached through the indifference, but only just. He concentrated on what the Seniormost had just said. It sounded so logical that he began to wonder what was wrong with him. “I need to think about that,” he said, lying down again. “I’m tired. Your priest hurt me too much and the drugs make it difficult to remember.” Around him, the bed began to conform to his shape again.

  There was a short silence. “As you wish, but the matter is urgent. I can give you an hour to consider your answer.”

  He heard the footsteps of the Seniormost and the guard recede into the distance. Turning his head, he saw the two at the door remained.
They wore no armor now, only black fatigues, but they were still heavily armed. He looked at the ceiling, trying to marshal his thoughts. It was difficult to concentrate. Had they drugged him into complaisance? He remembered being controlled before, but not completely. They weren’t able to force him, otherwise he’d have agreed to taking them into Sholan space.

  Putting his hand up to his face, he felt the bruising and swelling on his cheeks and eye ridges. There was very little pain. How long had he been here? Reaching lower, he felt tentatively under his left ear. The implant was still there, he could feel the edges of it. He felt sick then, and his body begin to shake with reaction. Not drugs, it was the device controlling him. He checked his neck, feeling the warm metal of the collar. For all the commander’s fine words, they hadn’t removed that.

  He let his arm fall back to his side. If they were telling him the truth, he was alone on this ship. There’d be no help for him. Kaid must think him dead, so must Carrie. Instinctively, he reached out for them, feeling the collar round his neck start to tingle and send a similar sensation down his back. He ignored it, pushing his mind harder, trying to find them mentally.

  The tingling increased to a level of pain that threatened to break his concentration. Remembering what had happened to them on Jalna, he shifted mental wavelengths and immediately found that the pain began to recede and his head began to clear slightly.

  Fear hit him. Now he realized fully just what they expected him to do. To betray his home world. If the Primes got a scent of the fact he could combat their implant at all, they could adjust it till he had no will of his own left. The commander might try to present the Primes as having been altruistic toward the rest of the crew, but he suspected the truth was quite different.

  He remembered quite clearly a Seniormost bringing J’koshuk to him the first time, remembered the questions he’d been asked by him, and J’koshuk’s torture. It wasn’t possible that it had happened without the knowledge of their commander.

  Somehow, he had to prevent the Primes from reaching Shola. If Kaid thought there was a possibility of being followed, he wouldn’t head for home, he’d head somewhere farther away, somewhere capable of defending itself. Somewhere like Haven.

  * * *

  Some time later, Commander Q’ozoi returned, followed by an aide carrying a chair for him. It was placed beside Kusac’s bed.

  Kusac didn’t wait for him to start talking. There were questions he wanted answered. “Why has a device been implanted in me?”

  “When you were brought out of cryogenic sleep, you had violent seizures. They threatened your life. The implant was the only way of controlling them before they killed you.”

  He absorbed that for a minute. It was possible, depending on how long they’d had Carrie awake, but he’d never heard of seizures as a symptom of Link deprivation. In the brief moment he’d sensed them, he’d known that Carrie and Kaid had formed a Leska Link. At least she was safe. “Seizures?”

  “Your body was suffering muscle spasms and you were choking. Between the seizures, you were violent. No other way to incapacitate you and control the fits without harming you could be found. It was an emergency measure, I’m afraid. The implants weren’t designed for your species, they’re for the M’zullian Valtegans. Our doctor did what he thought best at the time. I’ve answered your questions, now it’s your turn, Kusac. Will you take us safely to Shola?”

  He closed his eyes. He was tired, had no energy or interest in this or any conversation. “I can’t. I don’t know the codes you want. I can take you to the place where my people are going. Another of the Sholan crew is empowered to make Contact negotiations. You can show him your papers.”

  “Another, Kusac? Are you similarly empowered?”

  It was said so softly that he almost didn’t realize his mistake and the implications of the commander’s question. “Not now,” he said. “I was relieved of duty when I was put in cryo.”

  “But you’re out now.”

  Kusac opened his eyes again. “You could make me, but anything I signed wouldn’t be recognized by my people.”

  “Then give me the codes and coordinates for where they’re going,” Q’ozoi said, holding out a comp reader.

  Kusac tiredly lifted his right arm and took it from him. Pushing himself up on his other elbow, he switched hands and punched in the figures before handing it back.

  Q’ozoi took it from him, glanced at it, and stood up. His aide ran forward to remove the chair. “Thank you. Doctor Zayshul will be in presently to make you more comfortable,” he said.

  Kusac let himself fall back to the bed. Keeping his thoughts straight for this long had drained him. All he could do now was pray that he’d done the right thing.

  * * *

  It had taken Kezule that night and another to reach the first estate. By hiding high in the trees adjacent to it during daylight, he’d learned it was the Aldatan estate, and the one he wanted, Valsgarth, lay farther south. The route through the trees took longer but was safer than crossing the open fields and leaving his scent behind for them to smell.

  Another night’s travel had seen him in the woodland behind the small village. It was smaller than the other, consisting of only two main rows of wooden houses divided up by five short streets intersecting them at right angles. Construction work was still going on at the end farthest from the large house, but many of the buildings were occupied.

  The inhabitants were a curious mixture of species, a fact he found baffling. Why would the Sholans want to share their private estates with aliens? He recognized one species, the Humans. The other, a brightly dressed, ungainly species, he had never seen before. A mixed group of all three species had left early that morning in several small aircars, heading for a distant hill topped by ruins. That intrigued him. Why were they going there? They’d had an air of purpose about them, as if going for a reason other than leisure. They returned just before dusk, their clothing stained and dusty. He deduced they were involved in some manual work, perhaps more construction.

  Crouched as high in his tree as he could safely go, he’d watched their day unfold. It was essentially the same as the one on the other estate, with some Sholans heading out to work in the fields and others making themselves busy around the village with building, combat training, planting their gardens, and visiting the village store. The training had him confused. He’d understood from the telepath he’d killed and the female, Keeza, that this was the estate where the majority of telepaths lived. How could they be training when to fight made them physically sick? Then he remembered the two Sholan males who’d taken him had fought with others of their kind in the desert. Something about them had changed. Was it mixing with the Humans? He dismissed the puzzle for the time being. More important was his need to find out where the ones he wanted lived. So far, he’d seen no sign of them.

  Darkness fell and streetlamps were lit as people retired to their homes for the evening. Overhead, the aerial patrol flew by at its usual time. He climbed lower, pulling on the dark robe again for better concealment. Still he waited, listening and watching for the night foot patrol he knew would come through the main street. He almost missed them, so quiet were they. Gray-clad, they blended in the shadows well. Not soldiers, these ones. They were more than that.

  They were no sooner out of sight than he heard a noise from the building opposite. As he watched, the window was pulled quietly open and a head poked out, looking around. It ducked back in, then a knotted rope was thrown out.

  Curious, he watched as, with much whispering and giggling, two small figures climbed down to the ground.

  “Daira, shut up!” hissed the larger one. “If you keep up that noise, you’ll wake my mum, then we’ll never get to see the Touibans!”

  “Sorry, Mandy,” he whispered.

  “Come on, let’s get going,” Mandy said, grabbing him by the hand and heading toward the back of their garden—and closer to Kezule.

  He watched as they climbed over the low fence and crept rou
nd the rear of the gardens, heading for the end of the street. Keeping to the deep shadows, he followed them. At the last building, he stopped, watching as they scampered through the pools of light cast by the lamps to the buildings on the other side. Now he could see clearly what he’d suspected. One child was Sholan, the other Human.

  He couldn’t risk following them, and equally, couldn’t afford to lose them. During the day, he’d seen others walking around the village wearing dark robes. Maybe if he pulled the hood up, he’d escape notice. It was his only option. He had to get across the roadway. Tipping his head down and pulling the hood well forward, he clasped his hands together, letting the wide mouths of the sleeves cover them. Stepping out into the open, he walked briskly across the street, making for the rear of the buildings opposite where the children had gone. Reaching the cover of the far corner, he slowed down, breathing again as he realized he’d made it.

  Cautiously, he peered round the corner, catching sight of the two small forms scurrying down the back of the garden fences. He followed, once more keeping low, seeing them jump a fence near the far end. As he drew level with the house, he realized the reason for their illicit night outing was to spy on the household of garishly dressed aliens.

  Easing his gun from his robe pocket and flicking the safety off, he stuck it through the tie belt. The night was still, what little movement of air there was came from the young ones toward him. If they saw him, his disguise should fool them long enough for him to get close. Maintaining his crouch, he inched his way slowly forward but they were too busy trying to peer through a window with partly open drapes to notice him. When he finally loomed over them, it was too late. A quick blow to the back of the neck of the young Sholan, then he grasped hold of the other one, hand over her mouth to stop her from yelling.

  “Be very quiet or you and your friend will die,” he hissed in her ear as she struggled to get free.

  She stiffened and he felt her try to nod her head.