Dark Nadir
Page 59
“There’s a couple on the estate,” she said, her voice low. “Nikuu and Dillon. She lost her Talent when their Leska Link formed. He supports her, makes sure she feels his mental presence. We can do the same if . . .”
“Don’t say it!” said Kaid fiercely, his hand almost crushing hers as she felt his fear that her words would make it real. “We’ll do anything, we both know that. Facing the possibility is one thing, talking about a solution now, that’s—something else.”
She nodded and fell silent, not wanting to air her deepest fear.
“Say it, Carrie,” he said quietly. “Don’t hold back from me. We’re in this together, remember?”
“Is Kusac having seizures because we formed a Leska Link? Because I’m pregnant?”
“I’ve been asking myself that, but I honestly believe we couldn’t have formed this stronger Link if Kusac had been awake and with us,” he said, taking her hand between both of his. “If, and I do mean if, the seizures are because of his Talent, then it’s because he was awakened after you. We are not to blame. If anyone is, it’s the Primes. Our cub has nothing to do with it at all.”
“How could they, or anyone, know we were Linked telepaths, though?”
“I told them as soon as I knew you were awake,” he said. “Told them about Kusac and asked if they’d found him, too,” he said quietly.
“I know you did,” she said, touching his cheek with her other hand. “You did everything you could, Tallinu. I wish we were able to talk to Brynne, ask him how Kusac felt and looked.”
“I’m thankful this ship at least has the capability of sending and receiving messages in jump,” said Kaid. “We can talk to him when we reach Haven.”
She nodded. “It’s going to be a long trip.”
Chapter 17
WHILE they slept, Kezule worked, pounding the la’quo resin into a powder, then mixing it with water. He was concerned. This offer from others of his kind, it appealed to the Sholans for some reason. It was unlikely they were lying. He knew there were other Valtegans still in contact with the Sholans because of the modern things they’d given him while he was their captive. It seemed they wanted to hand him over more than they wanted the safety of his hostages. As yet, they might not realize it, but when they did, he’d be at risk, and he intended to be gone before that happened.
As he worked, he kept looking over at his three hostages, envying them their closeness. They’d pulled the two camp beds together and slept with the child between them. Neither his children, nor those of the Emperor that he’d have been bringing up, would have known the touch or sight of their mother. Nor would they have known such closeness as the child had with the male.
He’d seen it before in other species and had considered it a weakness, but now he was beginning to wonder. These Sholans were far from weak—his kind had been driven not only from Shola but from their sector of space—yet obviously they brought up their young with closeness and affection. Why did it work this way for them, but not for his people? Why was it different for Valtegans? Perhaps when he got back to his own time, he’d try an experiment. He could take one of the young and bring him up this way to see if he was different from the others.
A wave of tiredness washed over him: he needed to sleep. The drug had to soak for half a day at least before it was in a state he could use. He looked over at his hostages again. It was time to wake and tether them.
* * *
He came to suddenly, hearing the child begin to whimper and stir. He raised his head from the workbench, realizing he’d let his guard down just enough to doze off. Cursing under his breath, he looked toward the camp beds. Both adults were beginning to stir, and though not quite awake, they were already beginning to comfort the child.
How long had he been asleep? Looking at his wrist unit, he discovered he’d slept for six hours. What in the name of the God-King had possessed him? If the adults had awakened . . . He didn’t complete the thought. Reaching for the container holding the la’quo, he glanced over at the door. Both were exactly as he’d left them. Looking round the room, he found everything else appeared unchanged.
“You can eat,” he said, getting to his feet to stretch his cramped muscles. He checked the time again. Several hours still remained before the drug would be ready to use.
* * *
“We’ve got to get Kezule out of there,” said Rhyaz. “We’re running out of time. Has Garras contacted him again about the Primes’ offer?”
“Twice more this morning,” said Lijou. “He refused us both times. Keeza even offered to go in with him again if her presence could help matters.”
“What did you say?”
“I thanked her and told her under no circumstances was I putting her at risk with him again,” said Lijou firmly.
Rhyaz grunted. “Has anyone tried to reach Kezule’s mind? Or his hostages?”
“Of course,” said Lijou, a little offended. It had been one of the first things they’d attempted. “He’s got a damper effect round him. Crude, but effective. I expect that’s why no one picked him up when he entered the estate. The others are all wearing their personal dampers turned up to full.”
“That scare you had a while back could actually have been him after all,” said Rhyaz. “You figured out yet how he got in?”
“There’s a portion of fence where the grid was turned off because of a family of ferals constantly going in and out and setting off the alarms. They were considered enough of a deterrent in themselves. One of the troopers on the estate was found there, half eaten, two days ago. Garras reckons Kezule saw the trooper go out that way and waited for him to come back. When he returned and was attacked by the ferals, Kezule took the opportunity to get in. The ferals have been captured and sent to the Taykui Forest reserve and the fence is back up again. The trooper’s friends confirmed he used to go out that way, keeping the ferals occupied and in the area by regularly throwing them raw meat. Patrols round the perimeter have been stepped up and the troopers warned what will happen to anyone found leaving the estate without a pass.”
“It comes down to the military again. They let Kezule escape in the first place,” grumbled Rhyaz. “How’s Ni’Zulhu’s digging going?”
Lijou sighed. He understood all the reasons why they had to break the oath given by Rhyasha, but he didn’t like it. “He’s within fifteen yards of the back of the tunnel down into the lab,” he said. “They’re going slowly now, otherwise Kezule will hear them.”
“When we get them out, I want Brynne going to Haven with Kezule. He’s been able to contact Kusac once, he might be able to do it again. Thank the Gods that the Touibans have loaned us that ship of theirs. Saves us days. Rulla gave me a report on its specs. It’s capable of going into jump from just outside Sholan orbit, with a hull strong enough to travel our route to Haven in three days.”
“Banner and Jurrel have been up to the Couana, too. They’re most recently familiar with some of the systems. They can crew for Captain Shaayiyisis.”
“Good. Get Garras to keep asking Kezule to agree to the Primes’ offer.”
“We might annoy him into rash action,” objected Lijou.
“I doubt it. He doesn’t strike me as the suicidal type, and he knows that killing his hostages would result in his own death. Get back to me as soon as you have any news.”
“I will,” said Lijou and signed off.
* * *
J’koshuk’s and Kusac’s rooms were next to each other. As Chy’qui headed down the corridor toward them, he saw the guard posted outside Kusac’s door. The commander was determined he shouldn’t have access to him. However, given the nature of the guards, it was a sound bet that this one wouldn’t have considered the possibility of there being an adjoining door between the rooms. At least he hadn’t been prevented from working with J’koshuk, despite the interference of Prince Zsurtul. If all went well, that young male wouldn’t be around much longer. The exchange of hostages would be the last time anyone would see the Enlightened One ali
ve. The fool had only made his task easier by getting himself taken as a hostage!
He strolled into J’koshuk’s room, stopping to examine him. The implant had taken, and the removal of the visible surface of the one at his neck had also been successful. Unless one knew to look for it, it would never be noticed. On the monitor by the bed, the display of J’koshuk’s hormone levels showed it was working as expected. It was an inconvenience that he’d had to be implanted. With his own design of neck unit, J’koshuk had been unremarkable, but with this on his head, there was no way of hiding what he was. However, he could still complete his plan using the programming tapes he’d brought with him.
Bending down at the side of the bed, he took the one for J’koshuk out of his pocket, placed it in the player, activated it and pulled the viewer hood from its recess in the wall above. When his vital signs indicated that he was in a trance, he would hear a subliminal voice telling him to open his eyes. A holographic image would then be projected into the viewer, completing the programming, making J’koshuk totally his creature.
That done, he moved quietly over to the inner door, opening it slowly till he could see whether or not there was a guard in Kusac’s room. Apart from the Sholan, it was empty, and the outer door was closed. He saw with pleasure that Zayshul had already activated his sleep tape.
He entered, making his way quietly over to Kusac’s bed where he swapped the tapes. He knew which one Zayshul was using and had duplicated it, adding in his own subliminals and images. Now, instead of bland, soothing images, it would play him sequences of his torture at the hands of Prince Zsurtul, with J’koshuk pleading for him to stop. J’koshuk would cease to be his enemy, and Zsurtul would become the one responsible for all his pain and suffering. When he saw the Emperor’s son at the exchange of hostages, he’d see an enemy. All it would take to make him turn on Prince Zsurtul and kill him would be J’koshuk using one of the small mobile control units to turn up the implant’s production of the Sholan’s own hormones. He’d become a killing machine. The minute he turned on the Prince, Zsurtul’s remaining bodyguards would immediately cut the Sholan down with their guns, thus preventing anyone from finding out why the tragedy had happened. No one would even look at J’koshuk. And he’d be one step nearer creating the constitutional crisis that necessitated replacing the Emperor.
As quietly as he’d entered, he left. Minutes later, he was walking down the corridor with no one the wiser.
* * *
Awareness returned to Kusac, but it had an unreal quality to it. He could hear voices and see images but they were vague and confusing. He remembered the female telling him he’d be given an anesthetic, but that was before they gave him the la’quo. He must still be hallucinating, because they were very strange images.
The priest was there, the red-robed one, but it was another, one with sand-colored skin, who was tormenting him. That wasn’t the way he remembered it. J’koshuk had been the only Valtegan present, apart from the armored Prime guard. Confused, he closed his eyes, trying to cut out the images, but the voice persisted. It began to irritate him, make him angry, and he began to move restlessly in the bed, setting off the alarm. The voice and the images stopped abruptly and the viewer retracted smoothly back into its wall niche.
The female doctor ran in, coming to his bedside and checking something on the wall above his head. “You’re awake,” she said.
“Obviously,” he snapped. He tried to sit up, but something was preventing him. “What’s going on? What are you doing to me?” There was a cannula in his arm, and a tube leading away from it. He tried to reach across himself and pull it out but again, he found his movements restricted. “Dammit, what the hell are you doing to me?”
“Everything’s fine, Kusac,” she said in soothing tones as she reached up to touch a control. “You just woke a little too soon, that’s all. You should get some more sleep.”
“I don’t want to sleep, I want to get . . .” His voice was slurring and lassitude was spreading through him again. He felt his consciousness slipping away.
* * *
Perplexed, Zayshul watched him until he was unconscious. He shouldn’t have woken so soon, and he should definitely not have been aggressive. She moved to the other side of the room, checking his readings for the past couple of hours. There was a definite rise in the levels of his male hormones. Strange, since the implant’s control over him had been reduced several times during the last day. It shouldn’t be affecting him like this, if it was a specially adapted unit as Chy’qui claimed.
She went back to his bed and removed the tape from the unit. Maybe that had been the culprit, she certainly hoped so. It was unthinkable that Chy’qui could have lied to her—or was it? The tape had switched off automatically when the alarm sounded, but she wasn’t taking any further chances. On her way out, she checked with the guard, but Doctor Chy’qui hadn’t even approached him. Seeing the room next door was occupied, she checked to see who was there. J’koshuk, Chy’qui’s patient. Her uneasiness began to grow. The guard told her the doctor had been in to see him a couple of hours before, but that didn’t prove anything.
On impulse, she checked Kusac again, looking around the room till she spotted the connecting door. Had Chy’qui come in through there? It proved opportunity, nothing more. She still couldn’t be sure any outside influence had caused the unnatural response in her Sholan. Calling the guard in, she told him to watch the patient from inside the room and to let no one but herself or the commander enter. If anyone tried, he was to contact his Control and have it reported to her immediately.
With an easier mind, she returned to her own office. Once there, she began to check the records of treatment for both J’koshuk and Kusac. She found nothing out of the ordinary, but she was still not satisfied. Chy’qui had complained that Prince Zsurtul had insisted J’koshuk not be implanted. She could find no evidence of that at all. Had it been Chy’qui who’d decided not to implant him, and if so, for what reason? And why blame the Prince? He wasn’t a medic. This needed more of an investigation. She yawned, checking the time. It was late. It would have to wait till morning. The Prince had friends with him in his suite, perhaps one of them would be able to tell her what his interest had been in either Kusac or J’koshuk.
Turning off her terminal, she left her office for her own quarters. It would be good to relax with her roommates. If she were right, this matter could touch on treason, especially since Chy’qui was one of the three counselors to the Emperor. The thought he was actually trying to discredit the Prince chilled her, and she was glad that she could warm herself against the bodies of her friends that night. The need to be careful occurred to her, as did the realization that she needed hard facts to put before the commander before he’d entertain any accusations against Counselor Chy’qui.
* * *
Kezule had tethered Kashini to the ancient microscope stand. Two sleeping bags formed a warm base for her to sit on and the female, Kitra, had given her the toys and scrap of old blanket as well as some cereal biscuits, dried meat strips, and a child’s container of water to drink.
Now he turned his attention to them. Pulling a stool over to the camp beds on which they were sitting, he sat down.
“You will take me back to a time just after our cruiser hit Shola’s moon,” he said. “The location will be the desert settlement of Khezy’ipik. I have the drug necessary, and I have you. I want only myself returned, nothing more.”
“I’ve told you we can’t do it, General,” said Dzaka quietly, reaching out to prevent Kitra from speaking. “My father was a Grade One Telepath, one of the most powerful, as were Kashini’s parents. It took all three of them to do it. Only Kitra is a telepath and she’s not yet fully developed because of her age.”
“That matters not to me. They took themselves and me forward in time. I want only myself sent back to where I belong. You will do it. This is not a discussion, it is an order.”
“You can’t order us,” Kitra burst out, obviously unable t
o contain herself any longer. “Dzaka doesn’t have the ability to do it! And there’re only the two of us!”
“I am not concerned with that. I called Fyak, I can tell you how to take me back. I know where I’m going, after all,” Kezule said. “The drug, in certain concentrations, loosens the mind, allowing one to reach beyond the here and now. You were right. All that’s needed is a clear vision of where and when you want to go.”
“Why can’t you do it yourself if you brought Fyak back to your time?” demanded Kitra.
“I didn’t bring him, I called him,” he said, trying to remain patient. If he could get their cooperation, it would be better than forcing them. It was the female’s he needed most, as she was the telepath. “He was trying to reach the temple at a time when I was experimenting with the drug. Why is no concern of yours. I was able to provide him with what he wanted to see, and he arrived there in person. We will do the same. You will picture the image I say and send me there. That is all.”
“The drug’s dangerous, Kezule,” began Dzaka.
“I am even more dangerous,” hissed Kezule, tongue flicking out in anger. “Do not try my patience any further!”
“No,” said Dzaka. “You can’t make us.”
Kezule touched his bracelet, watching as Dzaka collapsed on the bed, crying out in pain. Kitra immediately reached for him, but her touch only made him howl and try to push her away. Releasing the control button, Kezule waited for Dzaka’s spasms to subside.
“You’re making it worse,” he said at last. “Leave him. It will pass more quickly.”
She jumped back, turning on him with all the fury she could muster. “You monster! How can you do that to him?”
“Do you agree to take the drug and send me back to my own time?” demanded Kezule.
Gasping for breath, Dzaka tried to reach out for her. “Don’t agree!”
Kezule could see she was obviously torn between the desire to hurl herself at him and the knowledge her attack would only make it worse for Dzaka. Again he touched the control, keeping it down for slightly longer this time. Dzaka’s back arched in pain, but slowly he raised his hands to the collar, grasping hold of it in a futile effort to tear it off. As his fingers touched it, he began to keen in agony. Kitra flung herself to her knees beside him, sobbing.