Razor's Edge

by Lisanne Norman

  Jo smiled. “It was a long time ago, Zashou. But I thought perhaps we could take some time together, leave the males to their own devices for a while, and just be females! How long is it since you had your hair unbraided and brushed?”

  “Too long,” she said candidly. “It takes so long to do it myself, and I don’t want Rezac …” She stopped, face taking on a cautious look.

  “Rezac isn’t one for female company,” said Jo diplomatically. “I think he’s never had the chance to develop the gentler side of his nature.”

  “Gentler side?”

  She sensed the disbelief in the Sholan’s voice. “It’s there, Zashou, but at the moment he’d rather cut off his right hand than admit it!”

  Zashou laughed—only a small one, but it was the first Jo had heard.

  “He would, wouldn’t he? Why? Why does he have to see me—us—as something to weaken him?”

  “I didn’t come to talk about Rezac, but you know the answer, Zashou. He gave it to you as he did to me, when we Linked,” she said quietly.

  Zashou reached out and took the brush from her. “Maybe we’ll talk about Rezac another time,” she said, equally quietly. Leaning forward, she ran her hand across Jo’s short hair. “So soft. It makes mine feel harsh by comparison. You should grow it, Jo.” She began to pull the brush through Jo’s hair.

  “I came to brush yours,” said Jo.

  “I know, but yours will take only a little time to do.”

  Jo relaxed. She was seeing a very different individual from the petulant female she’d thought Zashou to be. And she liked this person.

  Rezac brings out the worst in me, she admitted. Then this—illness hasn’t made it easier.

  Again Jo sensed this was a taboo subject for now. No matter. The situation was clear-cut, they all knew that. They must escape or Zashou, and Rezac, and possibly even herself, would die.

  “My hair used to be long,” said Jo. “I cut it when I joined the guerrillas on Keiss. Less work to keep it clean and tidy when you’re living rough.”

  “Males are lucky. It is in their natures to fight. When it involves us, we lose our female side.”

  Jo put her hand up to cover Zashou’s and the brush. “Then let’s reclaim it,” she said.

  By late afternoon, the heavy cylindrical container that had been the shuttle’s backup power source had been moved down to the barn where the laser and the larger parts of the craft had been stored. Upstairs, Rezac had checked out their cannibalized control unit, and Jo had done wonders for both her own and Zashou’s morale.

  The oil and tisanes had arrived, along with the wherewithal for them to boil water when they needed it. It was only an iron tripod with a swinging arm and a pot to hang from the hook, but it gave them a little more independence.

  Jo got Davies to request the bath, and a succession of guards had brought buckets of hot water to fill it. They had not been amused by the demeaning work, and their sour faces had afforded both Jo and Zashou some amusement.

  Hair unbound and forming a mass of tightly curled ringlets, Zashou had taken the first of her baths with the oil. Afterward, she’d agreed to allow Davies to come in and massage more oil into her pelt on the understanding that Jo remained, too. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the Human male, she hastened to say, but she was nervous of being touched quite so intimately.

  How did you manage with Rezac? How could you let him touch you? Zashou sent as Davies, now working on her back, massaged the oil deep into the roots of her dense pelt.

  He was very gentle with me. He was aware of how afraid I was and tried to show me there was no reason for my fears.

  Pity he didn’t do the same with me.

  Jo detected the note of bitterness, the first that day. She stopped plaiting and reached out to touch the other’s cheek. You frightened him, Zashou. Still do. You know he loves you, and he wanted to win you himself. He resents your Link as much as you do because it gave neither of you the choice. I’m sorry that you both had to suffer so much for it to be easier for me.

  “Y’know, back home on Keiss, I’d be the envy of everyone,” said Davies, his hands gently easing the muscles over the top of Zashou’s shoulders. “Here I am, massaging one of the most beautiful Sholan females I’ve seen, and there’s nothing in it!”

  “Nothing in it?” asked Zashou.

  “Watch her neck, Gary,” warned Jo. “The loose skin at the back’s her scruff. Grasping it triggers a freeze response.”

  “Okay. I mean, there’s nothing sexual in it,” he explained, carefully circling her neck.

  “Sensual,” said Jo, fastening off the end of the braid on which she was working.

  “Plenty of that,” agreed Davies, with an old-fashioned glance at her. “I hadn’t realized just how soft your fur could be.”

  “You’ve never had a Sholan partner, Gary? You’re slipping!”

  “That was never me, Jo, you should know that. Things are different now that our lives aren’t always on the line.”

  Jo looked up at him. She didn’t need to speak.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “you Sholan females can look quite intimidating to a male like me. After all, get the approach wrong and there you are facing some six feet of powerfully built teeth and claws.”

  “Is that how you see us?” There was a purr of amusement in Zashou’s voice.

  “Yes, ma’am!” he said cheerfully, moving off her and getting down to the floor. “So this is the first chance I’ve had to meet one of you ladies up close and personal.”

  As Jo sat back, too, Zashou rolled over and looked up at him. “So what do you think now?”

  Davies grinned, glancing briefly at Jo. “You’re nowhere near as intimidating lying down.”

  Zashou’s purr deepened. “I see you have charmers among your own males, Jo. I’m surprised no one has approached him!”

  “Oh, I don’t live on Shola like Kris,” he said, going over to the washbasin to clean his hands. “I live on Keiss. Jo and I, we’re local experts on the Valtegans, so we’ve been kept busy back home.”

  “Then why haven’t you visited Shola?”

  “Who’d invite us? We need an official invitation to go to your world, Zashou.”

  “I’ll invite you, for the amusement I’ll get watching the females cope with your charming nature. Where will they take us when we get home, Jo?”

  Jo continued with her braiding. This was the last one. Her arms ached, but the change in Zashou had been worth it. “To Carrie’s and Kusac’s, I assume. The Aldatan Estate.”

  Zashou was quiet for a moment. “I really will be going home,” she said quietly. “You knew Carrie, didn’t you? Would she invite you for a visit?”

  “She might. We got on well when we met, but I only knew her for a couple of weeks.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Kris stuck his head in. “Durvan says our presence is requested for dinner,” he said.

  Jo nodded. “You’re done,” she said to Zashou, slipping the last bead onto the end of the braid. “If you get up, I’ll give your pelt a quick brush.”

  Zashou got slowly to her feet, standing patiently while Jo ran the brush quickly over her. The soft amber fur gleamed in the last rays of the sun. Kris coughed and backed out hurriedly as Davies turned round and let out a whistle of approval.

  “Gary,” said Jo warningly as she picked up Zashou’s robe and held it out to her.

  “I’m going,” he said, and headed for the door.

  “What?” asked Zashou, taking it from her.

  “He saw you as a female,” said Jo.

  The Sholan was obviously confused. “But he knows … Oh.” She touched her belly. “I start to resemble you more because of this cub.”

  “Zashou …” she began.

  “It’s all right,” sighed Zashou, slipping the robe on. “Your males are not that much different from ours. Your shape is part of what draws Rezac to you. To be able to persuade a female to carry his cub makes a male feel important. Rezac’s thou
ghts are full of it. He could at least keep them to himself!”

  The bitterness had returned. Jo swung Zashou to face her. “So what?” she demanded. “I could be pregnant by him, too! If we are, it isn’t his fault, d’you hear me? It’s the damned virus! At least your cub is fathered by one of your own kind! If I’m pregnant, mine isn’t, mine is alien, but you don’t hear me bitching about it.”

  Zashou tried to back off, intimidated by Jo’s anger and aggression. “I only meant …”

  “I know what you mean, Zashou! Just accept it, like I have to. There’s nothing else we can do. Not accepting it just makes life more difficult for everyone than it already is. We have more important things to worry about.”

  “But you’re his lover!”

  Jo let her go, her anger suddenly evaporating. “Yes, I am.” She could feel Rezac hovering at the edges of her mind, worried for her. Since he’d realized she could also be pregnant, his presence within her mind had intensified. For all his protestations that females were a tie he didn’t want, she knew them for the facade they were. Worry, guilt, and pride fought within him, and he didn’t know which he should feel.

  Against all reason, he’d touched her in a way she couldn’t explain, a way no Human man had. She’d suddenly become part of a world that defied logic, a world where an officer in charge of a mission had no option but to start an affair with an alien, and risk becoming pregnant. She shuddered, and pushed it to the back of her mind. When she had the time, she’d worry about it. Not now. She felt guilty for taking her anger out on Zashou.

  She felt a hand touch her cheek and blinked, looking into Zashou’s amber eyes.

  “You’re right. We must escape before anything else. I will try to make my peace with Rezac over this cub.”

  “I’m sorry, Zashou. I should never have yelled at you like that. This is all so confusing for me. I don’t know what to think or feel right now.”

  She found herself enveloped in a hug, felt the gentle vibration of Zashou’s chest against hers as the Sholan purred gently in amusement. “We’re not so different, you and I,” she said. “After all this time, I still don’t know what to think about Rezac! He’s so … confusing!”

  The meal was a nightmare. Killian had been the life and soul of the party, full of unsubtle humor regarding women, obviously aimed at Taradain, who sat through it all in a silent but furious rage. Jo wondered why Killian had bothered to insist she come, too; the level of conversation was more suitable for male-only company. Then, toward the end of the meal, the storyteller was announced. She sensed both Kris and Gary suddenly become alert.

  It was, indeed, Railin. He proceeded to regale the company with two winter tales of encounters with beasts and monsters in the high pass. The latter she finally began to recognize as the tale of the crashing of the shuttle, the one he’d told them in the Inn. He’d refined it to a work of art that praised Lord Killian’s bravery for protecting the good people of Kaladar from the evil that fell from the sky.

  As he took a break, Jo sent to Kris. Ask him why he’s here.

  Is it wise? Killian doesn’t realize we’re telepaths. If we let Railin know …

  Send to him!

  She watched Railin carefully, seeing the usual glazed look come over his face. It affected everyone like that at first, telepaths just learned to conceal it better.

  The full news had to wait till they returned upstairs. Zashou had taken over a chair as a makeshift bed and was settled there wrapped in her blankets. Jo looked curiously at her, then at Rezac, but all felt well—in fact, very peaceful. The remains of Zashou’s special meal was on the table nearby and, for a wonder, she’d managed to eat most of it.

  “Railin’s here to find out why Killian has kept us. Apparently he should have informed the rebellion leaders that we were here. He didn’t,” said Kris, sitting at the table.

  Davies joined him. “So Killian really is building his own little power base.”

  “It appears so,” said Jo, taking one of the easy chairs. “In return for this information, Railin is willing to help us escape.”

  “Is he, now?” Davies’ tone was thoughtful.

  “We could be leaping from one cage to another,” said Rezac. “We should try to escape on our own.”

  “If it were possible, yes, but it isn’t,” said Jo. “We’ve accepted his help.”

  “You should not have made that decision without a discussion.” Rezac’s voice was a low growl of disapproval.

  Jo turned to look at him, but Davies answered first.

  “Jo’s the leader, Rezac. She calls the shots. I agree with you about Railin, but it’s still her call. Besides, he needed an answer there and then. We couldn’t be sure of reaching him later. He’s not a telepath.”

  With an effort, Rezac flattened his ears in a gesture of apology. “I led for too long,” he muttered. “I’m not accustomed to having others making the decisions.”

  “Railin is acting for the leader of the rebellion, Lord Tarolyn,” continued Jo. “He’s Lord of the state of Galrayin, Bradogan’s neighbor, and the least suspect state because he considers he’s bought Tarolyn with off-world goods.”

  “Why upset a good deal? What’s in it for Tarolyn?” asked Davies.

  “He will take over the Port, but …”

  “No altruist, then,” said Rezac.

  “I’d suspect him if he were,” said Jo frankly. “He’s a more enlightened landowner. Believes his serfs will work harder if they have a stake in the land, so all his people are free. He wants true off-world trade available to all on Jalna at a fair price. And he wants to control it.”

  “My bet is that Killian plans to use this gun against Tarolyn, then Bradogan.”

  “Killian isn’t exactly a despot,” said Davies. “Fair enough, he’s doing what he is to us, but his people seem content enough.”

  “People are rarely black or white,” said Jo. “Killian’s no exception. However, it isn’t up to us to back one leader against the other. In helping us escape, Tarolyn will achieve what he wants, which is to prevent Killian risking the whole rebellion in a preemptive strike on him.”

  “And the creation of a weapon too dangerous to be let loose on Jalna,” added Kris. “There’s been no mention made of bringing it with us.”

  “There will be,” said Rezac. “You wait and see. So how does he plan to get us out of here?”

  “He doesn’t know yet. There isn’t enough time to help us this trip, but he’ll be back in six weeks with help. This caravan is one of merchants. The next will include soldiers.”

  “Six weeks,” said Rezac, looking at Jo bleakly. “Have we got six weeks?”

  “Railin is going to see some of the food his caravan carries is handed to the cook for Zashou,” said Jo. “He’s from Galrayin himself. They know of the problem, and have more or less eradicated it from their land. They provide the bulk of the food sold in the Port to the spacers and Bradogan. That’s another reason why the rebellion chose Tarolyn to lead them. What his father and he have done with their land can be done by all the landowners. He plans to negotiate with the aliens for the appropriate technology to speed up the process.”

  “Terraforming on a massive scale. But why? Arnor inferred this allergy to the food is rare. And who has achieved that level of eco-engineering?” asked Davies.

  Jo turned to look at Gary. “There is a species that can, and they trade at the Port. It’ll cost, of course …”

  “And then some!”

  “… but in return, Tarolyn will open Jalna up for trade. It’d mean a bigger local market for everyone.”

  “You still haven’t said why this land issue is so important.”

  “That’s the interesting part,” said Kris. “Tarolyn believes there’s a correlation between the episodic violence and what’s poisoning the land.”

  “How could the food be responsible for the violence?” asked Zashou, taking an interest in the discussion for the first time.

  “Not the food, something in t
he soil,” corrected Jo. “Everything in the food chain is dependent on the soil. The plants, the cattle that eat them, and the people.”

  “Not to mention the water that runs through it,” added Kris. “Tarolyn’s father had an epidemic of his people getting sick and dying from this allergy. He systematically began cleansing the land and replanting with crops and cattle from areas that had a low incidence of related deaths. It worked, and as a side effect, he realized they also had far fewer incidences of violence during the winter and early spring.”

  “The time when the people live off food stored for the winter,” said Davies. “It makes sense.”

  Jo had noticed Rezac reaching out for the remains of his meal. He’d picked up a piece of bread and was looking intently at it. “I know what it is,” he said quietly. “I know what’s poisoning us.”

  “You do?” asked Jo. “What?”

  “The Valtegan plant that makes the stones. Laalquoi.”

  “It can’t be that,” said Kris. “You said the stones were used to control telepaths, to subdue them. And how could a plant contaminate the food chain on such a vast scale?”

  Rezac turned round and held the bread out to him. “Look at it! Have you noticed how much greener it’s become over the weeks we’ve been here?” he demanded.

  Kris took it from him and examined it. “He’s right. It has.”

  “Old grain,” said Rezac. “They’re reaching the last of their reserves now. We know it’s in the food. Zashou’s allergy is proof of that. We don’t need to know how, dammit!”

  “They’ve been here before,” said Jo. “That’s where the plants came from.”

  “That’s how they know the stones control the violence,” said Zashou.

  “I’ll buy some of it,” said Kris, handing the bread back to Rezac. “But I still don’t see the relationship between the plant and the violence if the stone subdues people.”

  “Maybe it mutated on Jalna. What the hell does it matter anyway?” asked Davies. “I agree with Rezac on that. But have you folks considered that perhaps the reason you can’t reach our ship, or any other telepaths on Jalna, is because we’re eating that damned plant and it’s blocking you?”