Razor's Edge

by Lisanne Norman

  He growled. “You’re doing fine now!”

  “Then, not … touched your mind.” She looked at the male, her gesture translating as one of helplessness.

  He spoke a word, then a phrase in what Tirak assumed was his own language. “We mind-speak others. Learn your words. Slowly. Using take time.” His speech was equally faltering. “Learn now.”

  “Seems they understand more than they can speak,” said Manesh in a low voice, leaning close to him. “Mind-speaking. Just before you rushed them, you looked like you’d swallowed a whole pachuv.”

  “Huh. Felt like it,” he muttered. Then louder. “So you little bastards controlled my mind, did you?”

  “Yes.”

  The lad grabbed her arm and began to talk rapidly, ears folding as he gestured frantically.

  She turned away from him. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I did, not Taynar.” He subsided unhappily, leaning back against the seat.

  Tirak had seen the look before on his sister’s children’s faces. Sulking. “By Kathan, you’re kids!” he swore, leaning forward. “What the hell were you doing to get captured by the Chemerians? Stealing in the market?”

  “No! Not steal,” she said emphatically. “We stolen! From home! Chemerian friends. Help us, then decide keep us. Need escape.”

  “You were stolen!” exclaimed Manesh, her calm exterior fractured by their tale. “Who stole you? From where?”

  “My world,” she said. “Traveling to his. Valtegan stole us, took ship to escape. Captain die trying to kill him.”

  “Drifted,” said Taynar, showing interest now that the tale had progressed from the issue of who had done what to Tirak. “Chemerians rescue us. We think friends, treaties with Shola they have, but not. Hold us prisoner.”

  “So the Chemerians are Sholan allies,” said Tirak. The ship gave a tiny lurch, and he wound his feet round the chair legs for anchorage as the gravity system adjusted itself. It was so much second nature that he was surprised when the two young ones yowled and clutched at the table for support.

  Mrowbay’s voice came over the ship’s system. “Leaving station orbit, Captain. What heading?”

  “Stay with our original course,” said Tirak, never taking his eyes from them. “So the Chemerians turned out to be not quite so friendly. Why? What did they want with you?”

  They fell silent, glancing sideways at each other. “Don’t know,” the female said finally.

  Tirak banged the table with the side of his fist, making them jump. “Don’t give me that!” he roared, his voice filling the room, mane bristling with rage. “You know damned well what they wanted, and I want to know now!”

  He watched a mutinous look come over the female’s face, and when the lad moved to open his mouth, a surprised look crossed his face and he subsided.

  “Mind readers!” he muttered disgustedly. “Sheeowl, to the rec! Lock them up, Manesh. One in each of the passenger cabins. When they’re ready to talk, then … we’ll see.”

  He waited till Manesh and Sheeowl had deposited their unwanted visitors in the cabins and rejoined him. “Suggestions, Manesh. How do we secure these …” He ground to a halt, unsure what to call them.

  “Frightened children, Captain,” supplied Sheeowl, taking three drinks from the locker by the heating unit. Going to the table, she slipped onto the bench seat and passed them out. Snapping the tab on hers, she waited for it to heat up.

  “Dangerous aliens,” he said firmly. “Don’t be fooled by their age. You didn’t have them pushing your mind aside, making your body run at the Sumaan like that!”

  “I did wonder what you were doing,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “It seemed insane at the time, but it worked. They were as taken aback by your attack as we were!”

  “It was insane! I don’t even want to think of what should have happened.”

  “It occurs to me that the Sumaan guards were slower than usual, Captain,” said Manesh. “Much slower.”

  “Mmm. He’s right,” said Sheeowl, reaching across to open Tirak’s drink for him. “Much slower.”

  “Have you seen the political implications of this, Captain? Two new species, at least one allied to the Chemerians, both able to bend others with the power of their minds …”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Tirak interrupted Manesh, taking a sip of his drink. “The female certainly has strange mental abilities.”

  “Kate,” said Sheeowl.

  “Our most pressing problem for the moment is how to keep them from doing that mind trick again!”

  “We can’t,” said Manesh.

  “You could try putting them on their honor,” suggested Sheeowl.

  The other two looked at her. “You aren’t seriously suggesting … ?” Tirak let the sentence hang unfinished.

  “Think about it, Captain. To have allies, they must be trustworthy and be capable of trusting others. They must have an honor system. I say put them on their honor to not interfere with our minds again.”

  Tirak looked at his security officer.

  Manesh shrugged her head to one side, nose wrinkling. “It’s all we have.”

  A deep rumble of anger built within him. “When they’ve been alone for a few hours, maybe they’ll be more cooperative,” he muttered.

  Sheeowl looked guilty, dipping her ears in apology. “I left the connecting door open. Taynar became distressed at the thought of being separated from Kate.”

  Tirak opened his mouth to reprimand her, then stopped. The error was his. He hadn’t actually said he wanted them kept apart.

  “In fact,” she continued, toying with her drink, “he said they were dependent on each other. Like mates.”

  “What? Mates? Them? Impossible!” The idea offended his sensibilities. There were strict rules governing the conduct of minors, never mind the fact they were of different species.

  “Improbable,” corrected Manesh. “And therefore likely true. Far simpler to say they are lovers. Do you want them separated, Captain?”

  “No,” he sighed. “Dependency on each other like mates? What the hell is he talking about?”

  “At a wild guess, a sexual dependency?” suggested Sheeowl. “Maybe their species evolved together? They may be old enough to be a legitimate couple among their species.”

  “Nothing about them would surprise me!” he muttered. “More likely he’s just afraid of being alone. Keep ’em under surveillance for now, feed them when we eat. One way or another, I intend to find out what’s going on between their species and the Chemerians.”

  Chapter 12

  “I’m doing what I can, Strick!” said Jeran, keeping his voice low as he checked the container off on his cargo manifest. “I can’t afford to get caught any more than you! I’ve seen what they do to slaves involved in the rebellion!” He shuddered at the memory. “It takes me weeks to get the components together, then I have to build the damned thing! I’m totally dependent on what goods are arriving. If no one’s shipping what I need, I can’t make your communicators!”

  “If you made the range greater, we wouldn’t need so many!”

  Jeran growled, throwing his clipboard on the counter and stalking off down the aisles of containers. He made no effort to keep his tail from betraying his anger. Stopping, he scanned the shelves for the goods Strick needed for his caravan. Reaching up, he snagged a small box with his claw tips and pulled it down, catching it as it fell.

  Returning to his desk, he placed it in front of the Jalnian. “It’s in this box,” he said, pushing it over to him. “Packed in with the dried fungi. Now go! Before they get suspicious!”

  Strick took the container. “You wanted to know if another Valtegan ship came. There’s one in now. Landed two hours ago.”

  His ears pricked forward. “What do they want? Any more of my people on board?”

  “I told you, the ship that brought you was different. This is one of the usual ones.”

  “I thought you said they didn’t come often.”

  “They
don’t. I checked. The last one was some fifty years ago. They take a collection of foodstuffs—grain, vegetables, fruit, and meat. Soil too, this time.”

  “A science ship! What the hell’s a science ship doing here?”

  Strick frowned. “Science ship?”

  “One taking samples to run tests,” he said absently, mind working as he tried to figure out what the Valtegans wanted with bio samples. “How long have they been coming here?”

  Strick shrugged. “Didn’t bother checking any farther back.”

  “Not interested in conquest, then. Why the hell are they testing the soil and crops?”

  “I’ll leave you to it. Like you said, Jeran, I got to go.”

  The Jalnian’s words cut through his thoughts. “Right.” He hesitated. “I don’t suppose …”

  “I’m sorry. U’Churian craft in plenty, a couple of Cabbarans, and that Chemerian ship, but none like you.”

  Jeran nodded, watching as the other left the warehouse, stopping briefly to exchange pleasantries with the Jalnian guards on duty at the door.

  “Well?” demanded Rezac as the apothecary came out. “What is it?”

  The little man peered across the room to where Killian sat, obviously waiting for his command before speaking. “I’ve seen it before, but not often,” he said, responding to the gesture to approach the Lord. “It wasn’t easy, you know, her not being one of us, but that’s what made it simpler. If you see what I mean.”

  “Get on with it, man! Stop dithering,” snapped Killian, shifting his bulk restlessly in the chair. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “I usually see it in young children. Then, being young, they’ve got a chance. But when it’s an adult,” he shook his head, making tiny, concerned sounds.

  Rezac was far more disturbed than he cared to admit. One of the worrying factors was that he was experiencing very little of what Zashou was feeling. Normally he felt everything to some degree, but with Zashou’s advancing pregnancy, their Link had dimmed.

  He wanted to shout and rage, to pick this little white slug of a male up and shake him till the solution dropped out of him. Luckily, Jo’s firm presence was helping him, just, contain his impotent fury. Now she was urging him to keep his mouth shut and leave this to the rest of them.

  Killian was making sounds of his own by this time, and they were far from tiny. “Arnor, if you don’t get on with it …”

  The apothecary looked at him in surprise. “The food,” he said. “It’s the food. Didn’t I say that? The lady being an alien makes it quite definite.”

  “The food?” echoed Jo.

  “Her stomach just can’t cope with our food.”

  “So what’s the cure?” Killian demanded.

  “Oh, that’s the really simple part,” said Arnor, adjusting his cap, a large smile on his face. “Take her home. Or to the Port to her own kind. Once she’s able to eat the food she’s used to …” He faltered to a halt, the smile dying. “Not an option?” He sighed. “Then beyond giving your kitchen a special diet for her, there’s little I can do.” He shook his head sadly. “It’s really just a matter of time, I’m afraid.”

  “You have to let us go, Killian,” said Jo. “You’re killing her if you keep us here.”

  Anger like a red mist swept through Rezac, then suddenly he felt his mind grasped and held firmly. Rage as he might, he could do nothing; his body refused to respond. Dammit, Jo! he sent, but Kris answered him.

  Not Jo, me. Violence now will achieve nothing, so be still!

  Killian turned a cold stare on her as he dismissed Arnor with a wave of his hand. “Do what is needed,” he said.

  “Wait! There must be more you can do!” exclaimed Jo, rising from the table.

  Arnor hesitated, his kindly face creased in concern. “I can ease the symptoms, give you an oil to rub in the sores, a tisane for the irritation and the pain.”

  “Do it, I said,” repeated Killian. “She’ll get what help I can give her, and when you’ve finished your work for me, I’ll see to it personally that you’re escorted to the Port and put aboard a ship that will take you home.” He pushed himself up from his seat. “Now you have an incentive to finish the weapon. You are responsible for her life, not me.” He turned and followed the apothecary from the room.

  “He’s lying,” said Jo once the door closed behind him. “He has no intention of letting us go. This son-of-a-bitch is empire building and he’s using us to help him.”

  “Let me guess,” said Davies. “Control of the spaceport.”

  “Got it in one,” she agreed.

  The hold on Rezac’s mind was released, and he slumped to the table. “You bastard,” he said to Kris. “You did that before, when they brought the talismans, didn’t you?”

  Kris reached forward, touching his fingertips to Rezac’s hand, but the other pulled back. “I had to. We’re captives, Rezac. If we do anything to upset the balance we have at the moment, it could jeopardize any escape plans.”

  “What escape plans?” he asked, not bothering to keep the withering contempt from his voice. “We have none! Just be careful, Kris, that you don’t consign Jo to death with Zashou and me! The Gods know what will happen to her if we die!”

  “I know what’s at risk, Rezac. I’ve lived with your people.”

  “Enough, Kris,” said Jo, cutting him short. “How soon till we can start working downstairs on the laser?”

  “Really? Or for effect?”

  “Either, dammit! We need to get out of here and assess the potential for escape! Sitting here on our butts has achieved damned little. There’s not going to be a rescue in time for us!”

  “Today. We can get the power source taken down to the laser now. Apart from a cursory check to see it arrived here intact, we’ve not given it a good going over.”

  “What about the controls we’re working on? Can we do anything to hurry that along?”

  “Not without power, and we need that downstairs to check the laser,” said Kris.

  “You and Rezac check over all the control connections, make sure they’re sound, then check them against the plans,” said Davies. “We were about ready to test it anyway.”

  “We can’t afford to blow this, Gary,” warned Kris. “We damage any of the components for the controls, and we’ve had it.”

  “Then, godammit, we fake it!” Davies snapped. “What d’you suggest? I’m not sitting here watching my friends die!”

  Jo reached out and put her hand on Davies’ shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Easy. No point in falling out with each other. We all want the same thing, right, Kris? Now let’s get moving. Rezac, you make a start on the controls, I’m going in to see Zashou,” she said, getting to her feet.

  Rezac looked up at her. “Not a good idea. She’s not in the most receptive frame of mind.”

  “She shouldn’t be alone now either. If she won’t speak to you, then she’ll speak to me! She can’t deny that I’m involved, too. See if you can get some boiled water for me, and when you do, Gary, you bring it in, please, before you go down to check the laser. Bring it in a tankard or something. I think Zashou will be able to drink that more easily than cold water.”

  Jo went to her own room and picked up a hairbrush before going to see Zashou. As the days had passed, she had begun to understand this unlikely pair and the culture from which they’d come. They were gregarious, a tribal people, needing the company of their own kind far more than Humans did. One thing Zashou had lacked for a long time was the feminine side of life. Well, she could at least give her some female company. If Rezac was right and Zashou saw her as taking the pressure out of her Leska Link with him, then it shouldn’t be too difficult to establish a common ground of friendship with her.

  Zashou was lying on her side, facing the door. She opened her eyes as Jo approached.

  “What do you want?” she asked tiredly. “I’d rather be alone.”

  “I’ve come to talk to you,” Jo said, finding a place to perch beside her. “The apothecar
y, Arnor, is sending up some oil for your skin. I think we should ask for a tub of hot water, put some of the oil in it and let you soak for a while.”

  “What’s the point? I’m dying, aren’t I?”

  “You will if that’s your attitude,” said Jo sharply. “Amor’s getting a special diet prepared for you, one low in whatever it is in the food that’s upsetting you. And we’re working on the laser now. Killian’s said he’ll release us when it’s finished.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Maybe, but we’re also working on an escape plan. Actually, I’ve come in for a selfish reason. I want some female company. You think I don’t get tired of those males? Their constant bickering, the need to be one up on each other—it’s tiring, Zashou. I can’t remember when I last did something for myself as a female.”

  Zashou opened her eyes again, looking curiously at her. “You like being female? I thought you wished to be one of them.”

  “Just because I’m in the military doesn’t mean I’m less of a female than you.” She pulled the brush from where she’d tucked it in her belt and toyed idly with it. “My mother and I used to brush each other’s hair every night before we left Earth for Keiss,” she said reminiscently. “We were the only two females in a household of men. It was good to get away from my dad and my brothers for a while each evening.”

  Zashou pushed herself up till she was able to see Jo without craning her neck. “Jaisa and I did that, at the monastery, before …” She faltered and Jo knew she didn’t want to say anything controversial. She waited.

  “Before they tried to rescue her family,” she continued finally. “Our friendship was never quite the same after that. Where is your mother now? Didn’t she mind you joining the military, fighting the Valtegans?”

  “My mother died in the journey to Keiss,” she said. “Many people did. There was an accident during the crossing. We all traveled in cryo units, so we didn’t find out till we arrived.”

  Zashou’s hand touched hers, and she felt the other female’s concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to poke at old wounds.”