“What happens if she leaves here without permission? Who’s responsible for her?”
“She won’t leave, will you, Keeza?” he said, looking at her. “She’s tagged. If she steps beyond the perimeter of this building, she won’t be capable of continuing farther.”
“And what turns this tag off?”
“Bringing her back inside, Khaimoe, that’s all. I’ll leave you to start your training. You have four weeks before we need her.”
“Four weeks! Do you realize how long it takes for us to train a youngling properly?” exclaimed Khaimoe angrily. “And that’s another thing! She’s too old!”
“I think you’ll find her a willing pupil. After all, she’s got an incentive. We aren’t expecting her to be perfect, just to have enough skills to deal with the target in the majority of situations that could occur.”
“She’s one of you, isn’t she? You’ve foisted a Sister on me. A Consortia assassin, that’s what you want, isn’t it? Well, I won’t do it!”
L’Seuli looked offended. “On the contrary, we want her to help keep someone alive. I assure you she’s not of the Brotherhood. Her background is just as I’ve told you. If you feel you cannot rise to the challenge, then perhaps I should place her with another House.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Khaimoe, her tone now frosty. “We’ll stick to our contract. You may return four weeks from today.”
Inclining his head, L’Seuli turned and left the two females alone.
Khaimoe sat tapping her claws against the padded arm of her chair, looking thoughtfully at the problem in front of her. He was probably right, she admitted to herself. What the female needed was feeding up and teaching how to make the best of herself. If she read her right, though, one like her wasn’t interested in making herself attractive.
“Do you know what it is we do here?” she asked her abruptly.
“Yeah. High class qwenes,” Keeza replied with a sniff of disdain.
“We do a damned sight more than cater to the sexual side of Sholan nature, my girl,” she said sharply. “Your name?”
“Keeza Lassah.”
“What did you do to land in a correction facility?”
“None of your damned business!”
“We operate on a basis of trust here, Keeza. I need to know what your crime was.”
“I killed a pack leader,” she said, moving over to a nearby chair and sitting down. Her body posture was simultaneously protective and aggressive.
“Ah.” Enlightenment dawned. “I thought I recognized the name. And you lived to tell the tale. Unusual.”
Keeza laughed, a hard, humorless laugh. “Yeah, you could call it alive. I’d only have lived until dawn unless I agreed to do this job.”
Strangely, the knowledge of her identity was comforting. There might be some chance of success with her, after all. Any female who could infiltrate one of the major Ranz packs, and work her way close to the leader deserved a second look. Not only that, but she’d successfully killed him and lived to face trial. Oh, there had been a bloodbath during her escape from the Pack den, and only Protector involvement had ensured her survival, but nonetheless …
“Why? Why did you kill him?”
“That’s my business,” she replied sharply.
Khaimoe shrugged mentally. Her motive mattered not at all. She looked over to the ornate timepiece on the wall above the entrance and began to rise. “We have a break at this time of evening. Come with me and I’ll introduce you to your tutors. You’ll be sharing a room with one of them.”
“I don’t share,” Keeza growled as she got up.
“You will here. We find that sharing increases our students’ awareness of the need to display oneself to the best advantage.”
“I don’t get on well with other females,” she muttered, following her out the door into the corridor.
“Perfectly all right. You’re sharing with a nice male called Mabu’h.”
“A male!”
Khaimoe stopped and turned round to look at her. “Of course. There are two Sholan sexes after all. Our graduates go on to cater to the business and personal needs of males and females in every level of society.”
“So what do you do?” Her surprise was obvious.
Khaimoe began to walk in step with her. “To put it simply, we’re social entertainers and professional companions. Our graduates are well educated in all the fields of art, entertainment, and politics, making them acceptable at every level of society. You’d be surprised to know that many actually become contracted as life-mates to partners in important positions—people who haven’t the time to develop the relationships necessary to gaining a mate and having a family.”
“I hadn’t realized.”
“Those who need to know about us know these things, Keeza,” she said not unkindly. “The rest see us only as Exotics.” She laughed at Keeza’s embarrassed ear flick. “Oh, yes, we do cater to that side as well, but not to the detriment of being whole, rounded people. Even in so short a time, if you apply yourself well, you’ll have skills that will lift you above the ordinary once your mission is completed. A new start, Keeza.” If she could motivate her now, it would be so much easier for them all.
Keeza made a noncommittal noise.
Later that night, after reading the files L’Seuli had provided, Khaimoe contacted Stronghold.
“What you’re asking is beyond the bounds of good taste!” she fumed. “It’s monstrous!”
“Don’t tell me you don’t cater to all types,” said L’Seuli. “You have to. You wouldn’t send your people out into the world unable to cope with the darker side.”
“We deal with it, yes, but not like this!”
“She agreed to do it.”
“She had no choice!”
“She originally chose death rather than submit to personality reprogramming. She has twice exercised her right to choose. That you don’t agree with her choices is not my concern. Do you wish me to go elsewhere, Khaimoe? I thought your House would give her the best chance of survival. Was I wrong?” He raised a questioning eye ridge. “We’ve always come to you in the past. Should we now seek out a new ally?”
“You’re all the same! So removed from our problems, aren’t you? Above it all! You know damned well I’ll do my best for her!”
“Information from our target is crucial, Khaimoe. This is more important than the life of one pack female. At least I’ve done what I can to help her. Now it’s up to you.”
Khaimoe broke the connection unceremoniously. Closing the folder, she shuddered with suppressed horror. Thank the good Gods that she wasn’t the one faced with such a choice.
A full-throated yowl of fear rang through the village. At the same moment, every telepath saw the image of water and felt a mental surge of fear that was abruptly cut short.
Seated in the den with Carrie, Kusac started to his feet in shock. Who—and where? He sent on the widest band width he could.
Zhyaf! My brother! The mental cry echoed inside Kusac’s head.
Dzaka and Meral came rushing into the room at Carrie’s command. See to Zhyaf, she ordered.
I’m on my way, sent Vanna from the medical center. Find Mara! She’s the one that needs me!
Dzaka, stay at the house. Where’s Mara? Kusac demanded as Meral left at a run.
It was Carrie who replied as she began to run for the door. Risho Bay! It’s the sea! She’s fallen from the Point!
As he followed her, Kusac activated his wrist comm. “Ni’Zulhu, get someone out to Risho Point immediately. Search for Mara.”
“Over the site already, Liege. Our on-duty sensitive picked her up,” came the faint reply.
“Do what you can. Help’s on its way.”
Kusac, Jack’s seeing to Zhyaf, I’m heading for the Point now, sent Vanna.
When they arrived at the Point, Mara had already been loaded into the emergency vehicle. Rulla, dripping and shivering, was standing beside it wrapped in a blanket.
“What happened?” demanded Carrie, going instantly to his side.
“It was sheer luck,” he said, rubbing a corner of the blanket across his forehead and ears. “She’s been acting strangely these last few days.” He looked obliquely at Kusac. “Stranger than usual,” he amended. “Ever since her pregnancy was confirmed a couple of days ago. So I’ve been following her.” He stopped again to wipe his face.
“How did she fall?” asked Kusac.
“She didn’t fall, she jumped. I thought you realized that. The snow broke her fall, stopped her killing herself on the rocks on the way down. She’d have drowned, though, if I hadn’t been there to pull her out.” His shivers became more acute and his nose wrinkled prior to a loud sneeze.
The quiet hum of Vanna’s craft rose in preparation for takeoff and Kusac shepherded them all aside.
“She’s alive, isn’t she?” Carrie shouted above the noise of the engine as they headed over to their own vehicle.
Rulla nodded vigorously. “Was touch and go, but she’ll live.”
“Well done,” said Kusac, sealing the aircar’s door once they were all inside. “She owes her life to you. I’ll get Garras to allocate a round-the-clock watch on her from now on. You shouldn’t be trying to cope with this alone.”
“I thought Zhyaf was told to sort out his relationship with her,” said Carrie, frowning.
“He’s tried, I’ll grant him that,” said Rulla. “He brought his sister to live with him as a role model for her. Teach her how to fit in, that sort of thing.”
Carrie caught his grimace. “His older sister?” she hazarded.
“She’s a very worthy Sholan matron,” said Rulla hastily, trying not to sniff as he surreptitiously wiped his nose with the blanket.
“But Mara’s Human, not Sholan! I could have told you that wouldn’t work!” She looked at Kusac accusingly. “I taught kids her age back on Keiss, you know that, you were with me often enough! Why didn’t one of you tell me what was going on?”
Kusac felt his ears trying to lie back in embarrassment but refused to let them. “I considered it more important that you were kept free from any worries during your pregnancy,” he said. “Mara wasn’t my concern, you were. There were any number of people she could go to for help—people who tried to approach her, but she wanted none of them.”
“They were all Sholan, Kusac. A girl that age, a teenager, needs someone of her own species to help her. She’s still trying to become an adult Human female, never mind being pushed into becoming a responsible Sholan matron! Didn’t that occur to any of you?” She looked from one to the other of the two males.
“Liegena, the responsibility was mine,” said Rulla quietly. “I was given the task of looking after her and her Leska. Being male, I’m afraid I spent more of my efforts on Zhyaf, assuming, wrongly it now seems, that Mara, being about the same age as yourself, would take to our ways as you did.”
“She could have gone to Jack,” Kusac said. “He’s Human.” He flinched under his mate’s withering glance.
“He’s old enough to be her grandfather! And she’s a good few years younger than me, I’ll have you know! What she needs is a Human den mother, preferably one with children of her own so she doesn’t feel like she’s being watched.”
They were approaching the village now, and Kusac used that to turn his attention away from what was becoming an embarrassing discussion.
Rulla was left to answer her. “My apologies, Liegena,” he said, his ears flat against his skull. “It’s not easy to judge Human age. You’re so small in comparison to an adult Sholan …” He faltered to a stop under her glare.
“I think you’d better take a hot shower and get yourself warmed up when you get back to your rooms,” she said. “You can report to me later. I’ll have this matter sorted out by then.”
“Yes, Liegena,” he said with a sigh.
Thankfully the fall hadn’t affected Mara’s pregnancy, and beyond scrapes and bruising, the girl hadn’t been seriously injured, but it would be several days before she could be released from the medical unit. Jack was sending to Valsgarth Telepath Guild for a Human psychiatrist to visit her. She wasn’t the first Human to have problems integrating into the Sholan community, and likely wouldn’t be the last. Zhyaf was suffering from shock and was being kept in overnight for observation, but no problems were expected from him.
Kusac escaped to his office as soon as he could to search the Human telepath database for a suitable den mother for Mara, one who wouldn’t object to coming to live on the estate.
“I want one without a mate,” Carrie warned him. “I want as little as possible to remind Mara of males.”
He didn’t want to know her reasoning right now; he just wanted to get out of the line of fire.
Carrie, accompanied by Dzaka, headed off for Zhyaf and Mara’s home. She stood in the entrance hall and looked round at the emptiness in disbelief. A rug of somber pattern, obviously well darned, lay across the length of the paneled floor. “It’s as if he’s made no effort to personalize the place.”
Dzaka activated the lights as it was growing dark outside. “Zhyaf’s family is from the northern end of the continent,” he said. “We, in the south, are a much more relaxed people.”
She looked up at him with a grin. “We in the south is it now, Dzaka? Do I detect a degree of proprietariness in your adoption of the estate?”
He smiled back, lifting his shoulders gently in a shrug. “Life has regained pleasures I thought I’d lost, Liegena. I belong here now.” He turned his attention to the door opposite. “That will be their lounge. The ones on either side will be their bedrooms.”
“I only want to see the public areas,” she said, following him.
The lounge was as dark as the hallway had been. A ubiquitous desk, large and ungainly, squatted in a far corner. It was obviously made of some cheap synthetic material that added neither grace nor function to its appearance. With its untidy clutter of papers and files, it dominated the room.
Seating was handled by three chairs set with their backs to the door. The word easy could hardly be applied to them, Carrie thought as she walked slowly into the room. They were thinly padded and with only the barest suggestion of a dip in the center. Aligned in a neat row, they faced a long, low table. Shelving lined the opposite wall, the shelves a riot of cassettes laid on their sides or slumped against each other. To her left, a fire glowed feebly in the grate, obviously relying on the heating system to provide the warmth for the room.
Carrie shivered and pulled her cloak tighter. Through the window opposite she could see snow had begun to fall once more. “Is it me, or is it cold in here?”
“It could be warmer,” admitted Dzaka, going across to pull the drapes. Once they’d been more brightly colored, but like everything else she’d seen so far, there was an air of age and mustiness about them. “Zhyaf isn’t one to pay much attention to his surroundings,” he said, returning to her side. “Northerners are an abstemious lot, don’t like unnecessary waste, tend to fight the cold with more clothing rather than more heat. They’re cut off from the rest of us for most of the winter. In the days before air transport, they had to make do till the thaws came.”
“Yes, but just the same! It isn’t like that now, and I know he’s earning enough to have furnished the house far better than this!”
“It’s probably the furniture from his last home. Zhyaf’s more of a scholar than anything. At times he hardly seems to live in the same world as the rest of us.”
“Poor Mara,” said Carrie. “To have a Leska so unsuited to her personality. T’Chebbi told me that when they escorted her from Chagda, she immediately said she’d like to join the Brotherhood. Has she had any outlets that could bring her pleasure?”
Dzaka avoided looking at her. “Beyond chasing after any of the more presentable young males on the estate? Probably not. I know she’s not been to any training sessions, and only visited Ghyan occasionally at the shrine for instruction.”
�
��Is that all?” Carrie was aghast. “What’s she done with her time?”
“Well, she’s been over at the dig, but she’s been incapable of settling to one area for any length of time, so no one’s been able to rely on her. Rulla should know more about that since they were in his charge.”
“He said he spent most of his time with Zhyaf. What about the Humans? Hasn’t she made friends among them?”
“No, she’s been told to stay away from them by their leader, Ms. Southgate.”
“What about off-duty time? There’s the canteen up at the dig.”
He shook his head. “Not there either, nor at their accommodation.”
“That’s ridiculous!” She was furious now. “Mara’s been abandoned by everyone here! No one has looked out for her at all! If only you’d not all been so afraid for me, this might never have happened! No wonder she tried to take her life—she has no life here!”
“Her life is my brother,” came the cold reply from behind her. There was an underlying growl of anger present. “How dare you enter his house without permission?”
“Khartu Rakula, may I present the Liegena Clan Leader, Carrie Aldatan?” said Dzaka, stepping smoothly between Carrie and Zhyaf’s sister. “We’re here to collect some of Mara’s belongings.”
“Clan Leader.”
The tone was no warmer, Carrie noticed, as the female turned and headed toward one of the doors in the hallway. “That’s his sister?”
“Yes.” Dzaka’s whisper was as quiet as hers had been.
“We’ve got to get her out of here!”
Dzaka touched her briefly on the arm. “We should return to the hall now.”
She followed him back out of the room and stood waiting impatiently. Khartu returned in a few minutes carrying a small bag which she handed to Dzaka.
“I hope you will be doing something permanent to that female. It’s utterly preposterous that my brother’s life should depend on someone who is obviously as unbalanced as she is. If you won’t, then I’ll appeal to the Guild.”
Carrie looked up at this tall figure of Sholan righteousness and wished for the millionth time she had a body as readily able to convey her feelings as the Sholans. Instead she allowed some of what she felt to leak beyond her barriers and watched Khartu’s eyes widen as she stepped back in shock.
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