Rhyasha sighed. Miosh's rhythmic brushing was working its usual magic. "I know you're right. I can't helpbut worry; he's my son."
"Yes, and he has to find his own way in the world. He's a fully grown male now."
"Did I tell you she spoke the words used by Khadulah? I pray this isn't a bad omen for them."
"Yes, you told me, but it was the Terran who said them to her father, not your son to you. It can't possibly be an omen for you or Kusac. You're fretting over nothing, Rhyasha. From what you said of her father's behavior, she's the one who will have to turn her back on her Clan if she wants your son."
"I hadn't thought of it like that," she said pensively. "I'm sure you're right. If it were an omen, the Gods would surely send it through one of us." She turned slightly to look up at her friend. "Now tell me about this Terran female, Miosh," she said changing the subject. "How did she behave while you helped her this evening?"
"She's not used to attendants, that was very clear, but she listened to what I had to suggest—and we
compromised." The female smiled at her in the mirror.
"She has a mind of her own, then?"
"Oh, assuredly. She would have none of my suggestions to braid her hair, she preferred to let it hang loose. Nor would she use any of our cosmetics, saying she'd prefer to try them herself another day. She was right," said Miosh candidly as she put the brush aside. "I realized that to make her look like us would be a crime. She is so much more striking as she is."
"She's certainly striking beside my son," said Rhyasha. "They couldn't be more physically different!"
"The Terrans are pleasing to look at, Rhyasha," said Miosh, dividing her hair into three handfuls and
beginning to braid it into a thick plait.
"They are, but it will take a little time to get used to her," admitted Rhyasha. "How were they with each
other?"
"As any new couple would be, happy to be together. When all is said and done, Rhyasha, no matter their
species, they're only young people in love."
"You're right, Miosh. As a telepath, I see the inner person first, not the outer form. I'd do well to
remember this now. I hope Konis does," she sighed.
"There, I've finished. Will you take your shower now?"
"No, I think I'd prefer to soak in a bath," Rhyasha said getting up. "The hot water will finish the relaxation
you've begun. Then I'll call Vanna."
* * *
The boarding across the bar's entrance was loose, Kaedoe discovered when he touched it. Not onlythat, but behind it, the door gave. It was open.
"In here!" a voice hissed.
Startled, he looked carefully around; then, pushing the board to one side, he slipped through into thedarkened room. For a moment he stood there, his back to the wall, sniffing the air. The walls were soingrained with the smoke of many years tüat he could smell little but that. He turned his head slightly,feeling the sudden movement of air pass-ing over the tiny hairs on either side of his nose and brows. Asudden blow to his throat sent excruciating pain exploding through him. His head collided with the wallbehind as, gasping for air, he clutched at his neck, doubling up in ag-ony.
Dzaka grasped him by the scruff of the neck with his left hand, pulling him forward onto the blade. Itslipped easily between his ribs and Kaedoe was dead before he reached the ground.
Leaving the knife where it was—it was standard issue to all troopers—Dzaka took two drug-lacedcones out of his pocket and dropped them beside the body. Turning, he made his way across the roomto the bar, going behind it to die sink used for washing the glasses. He held his hands under die stream ofwater, making sure that any overt signs of blood were removed before drying them on a bar towel. Thenit was back out the way he'd come, through the ven-tilation system.
* * *
Kusac made his way back to the medical area. Kaid was where he'd left him. "It's getting late, Kaid," hesaid. "Can you organize security so you and the other two get some sleep?"
"I'll see it's done, Liegen."
Kusac nodded and rejoined Vanna.
"You were correct about something happening," said
Vanna, watching the results of the brain scan she was run-ning on Carrie.
"What can you see?" asked Kusac.
"I don't know what I'm looking at, Kusac, let alone look-ing for. This isn't standard medical information I'm getting, it's something totally new. Increased electrical activity, but nothing that seems to be causing any harm—no fits or con-vulsions, I mean. You tell me what we're seeing," she said, waving her hand toward the monitor's readings.
"I can't understand those things, I can't even sense what's happening," Kusac said helplessly. "I'm afraid
for her, for myself."
He leaned over the cover of the IC unit, touching Carrie's face, his hand dark against the pallor of herskin. "She looks so fragile, doesn't she?" he said softly, moving his hand to stroke her forehead as heglanced up at Vanna.
She looked away quickly. It wasn't good for her to see his emotions so easily in his eyes. "It's time foryour tests now," she said, moving over to the other unit a few meters away.
Kusac sighed, turning away from his Leska. "I shouldn't be doing this to you, Vanna," he said, stoppingbriefly beside her and putting his hand on her shoulder. "I know it isn't easy for you to be so closelyinvolved with us, but I have no option: you're the only person I would trust with our lives."
"Kusac, stop being foolish and get into the other unit," she said, trying to divert his attention away from
her.
He went over to the unit, stripping off his clothes and handing them to Vanna. As he settled himself downinto the soft foam, he realized Jack was missing.
"Where's Jack?" he asked as Vanna pulled the cover over him.
"He's off getting his first telepathic imprint," she replied, checking the panels before swinging over the
other brain scan unit.
"That as well?" he asked, nodding toward the device.
"I want to watch both of you for a comparison," she said, adjusting the position of his head. "Now keep
still, or I'll have to sedate you," she threatened as he continued to turn his head.
"What tests are you doing?"
"Don't worry, you won't even be aware of them," she said, lowering the top half of the scanner to about a foot above his head. "I've programmed the body unit to take blood and skin cell samples so I can check your endocrine systems. I'm looking for any alterations in your hormone levels and DNA structure. Since both of you were affected by what appeared to be Carrie's shape-changing debut, I want to make sure that there aren't any other permanent changes in either of you, beyond the shape of her pupils."
"Have you any idea yet why her eyes changed?"
"None, but I have ascertained that they are fully function-ing eyes. She can see in the same range as us now. The color of her irises has altered slightly. Where they were brown be-fore, now there is a narrow amber ring around the pupil," said Vanna, pressing a series of buttons on her side of the unit. She watched an ultrasound scan appear on the recessed screen. "You'll be pleased to know that internally everything is as it should be."
"And Carrie?"
"Carrie, too. I told you, the only obvious physical differ-ence is that she now has eyes like us. I have to
leave you now, I've got work to do. Try and rest," she said.
* * *
Maikoe liked to have the scouter's engines up and running before take off, especially when her shiftstarted during the Keissian night. She ran through the checks as the rest of the crew boarded. Everythingcame up green, not that she ex-pected anything else, but Kaedoe's paranoia was catching.
They were using four-person crews now. Shifts were shorter, only six hours, so mere was n6 need foron- and off-duty personnel. They could take their breaks at their con-trols, they'd done it before.
She turned as the last person boarded. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Chy
ad! What the hell are youdoing on my shift!" she hissed as he made his way over to her.
"I swapped shifts. Kaedoe's dead," he said quietly. "I think our days are numbered."
"Gods! What happened to him?"
"He was found dead inside the smoke bar."
"But that was closed down after Jakule's death!"
"I know. Security were investigating a reported break-in at the place and found his body."
"How was he killed?"
"Knifed. They reckon he was collecting drugs and had an argument with the dealer."
"I didn't know he used illegal drags," she said, reluctant to believe him.
"Come off it, Maikoe! Don't be so naive. You know damned well Kaedoe never touched the stuff!
There's only you and me left now."
"What the hell are we going to do?"
"Can you make it look like we've got engine trouble or something and ditch this craft on the planet? I
think our only chance of survival is to lose ourselves on this mud ball."
"I can do it, but the others will tell them we've gone."
"Not if they've been killed in the crash," said Chyad grimly. "If we destroy the scouter, they'll never know
we didn't go up with it, too."
"We can't kill them, Chyad!" she hissed, appalled at the idea.
"Don't get squeamish on me, Maikoe," said Chyad notic-ing her ears were folding over in distress. "You
were pre-pared to kill the telepath and his Leska, what's different about killing these two?"
"Scouter four one, clear for take off," said the communi-cator.
"Get back with the others," said Maikoe. "We've got to leave."
Chyad gripped her shoulder, his claws puncturing through her uniform into her flesh. "Just remember tofake a crash. I've no intention of dying if I can avoid it," he growled in her ear before releasing her andheading for his post.
They were scheduled to do low sweeps of Keiss over the mountainous terrain around the village of Hillfort. They were on the watch for stray Valtegans. Sholan High Com-mand was desperate to captureas many alive as possible. Those stranded on the planet had either mounted suicide at-tacks or diedwithin hours of capture. None had survived long enough to be fully interrogated.
Their shift was nearly at an end when suddenly the craft began to weave about alarmingly.
"What's wrong?" demanded the navigator as he fumbled for his safety harness.
"One engine's gone off-line," said Maikoe as she strag-gled to right the craft. "I'm losing altitude!"
The scouter dipped toward die ground, beginning to roll as it lost stability. Maikoe pulled at the controlsas the trees loomed in front of them.
"Gods! We're going to crash," muttered a voice from be-hind.
"Hang on," yelled Maikoe. "We're going down!" The scouter skimmed across the treetops, the interior of the craft echoing to the sound of the hull being scraped and banged by branches. Suddenly the craft somersaulted, diving down into the trees, heading straight for the ground. There was no time to react as the craft ripped its way through the branches, ploughing nose first toward the forest floor.
Tallinu came round first, looking groggily about the craft for survivors. Up front he could see Maikoe wasdead. A massive branch had penetrated the view screen, forcing its way past the pilot into the main cabin
area. He was lucky. It had missed killing him by only a few feet.
To the rear, the navigator's seat was empty. He must have been flung out of it by the force of theirimpact. To the other side of navigation, Chyad lay in his seat, blood running down the side of his head. As he looked, the male moaned softly. Only injured, then. He reached for his gun and found it missing. He cursed softly, realizing it must have been jarred loose in the crash. He had to get free before Chyadcame round.
The scouter was lying canted on one side with the rear end held clear of the ground. The floor under himsloped down toward where the tangle of the tree had breached the front. He looked down for the releaseon his harness and stopped. A sliver of wood pinned his thigh to the seat. Blood had matted thesurrounding fur: obviously he'd been uncon-scious for some time.
He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally beginning the litany that banished pain. Taking hold of the endof the sliver, he gritted his teeth and pulled. Despite himself, an in-voluntary groan escaped his lips. Freshblood began to ooze out, glistening wetly on his fur. He looked around for some-thing to act as abandage, then saw that Chyad was begin-ning to stir. He was running out of time.
Pressing open the seal on the front of his uniform, he drew out his knife and stabbed it into the fabric ofthe seat. Ripping a strip free, he quickly bound his thigh above the injury. It would slow the blood fornow. With any luck there was already a craft on the way to check for survivors. He glanced at Chyadagain, gauging the distance. Reluctantly he returned the knife to its sheath. At this angle he had no chanceof hitting him.
Wrapping one arm through the armrest, he reached for the fastening on his harness and pressed. It flewopen, releasing him with a jerk that almost tore his arm from its socket. He swung round against the sideof the chair, legs dangling in midair.
The floor of the scouter was smooth, no hand or footholds there. If he let go, there was every chance hewould impale himself on the tree beneath him. He heard a sound from above. Chyad. Praying to Vartra,he let go, his hands and feet scrabbling desperately for a hold as he fell. He crashed through the foliage,small branches whipping him in the face as he fell. His hands grabbed for them, but they gave under hisweight. Then his ringers closed on a thicker branch and he came to an abrupt stop, fresh agony lancingthrough his already bruised shoulder joint. He clung there breathing hard, trying to lift his other arm up tosecure his hold. At last his claws caught and he managed to haul himself up just enough to wrap his armsaround it.
His feet had touched something firm beneath him. Reach-ing down with his toes he felt to see what itwas. There was a broad branch just below. He tried to peer down, but the loss of blood and the painwere beginning to take their toll, and his head began to swim.
From above he could hear Chyad moving about. Looking up, he realized the other male could releasehimself and land on the back of one of the seats in front. After that he faced the same problems in gettingdown to the tree. As he watched, Chyad left his seat abruptly, managing to land where he'd predicted.
"What a pity," said Chyad cynically, looking down at him. "All that effort for nothing." He drew an energy
pistol from inside his jacket and aimed. "I just can't let there be any other survivors."
Tallinu let go, landing in a crouch on the branch below. His thigh buckled under his weight, almostpitching him for-ward off the branch. The energy bolt hissed past him, send-ing the smell of burninggreenery wafting up to his nose. Clutching the branch with his hands, he swung himself down, grunting inpain as he took his weight yet again on his arms.
The nose of the craft was only a few meters below him now and he let go, landing in a heap against thepilot's con-sole. The smell of blood was strong, its taste metallic in his mouth. The hatch was beside himand with a swift prayer, he thumped the release mechanism, dodging aside as another bolt of energyhissed downward.
"There's no use hiding, I can see you." Chyad's voice drifted down from above.
The door remained closed. Reaching for the manual lever, he pulled hard. Slowly the hatch began to slideopen. From above came the sound of Chyad crashing down through the tree.
Fumbling in his jacket, he pulled out a small device from the inside pocket. Pressing the button set in thetop, he lobbed it toward the bodies of Maikoe and the navigator, then dived through the gap.
He hit the ground hard but managed to roll clear of the hatchway, fetching up against the trunk of a tree. Pushing himself to his feet, he grabbed the trunk for support and be-gan to lurch away from the scouter. Once again his leg buck-led under him, throwing him to the ground. Cursing, he rose in a three-leggedstance, keeping his injured leg free of th
e ground. His shoulders felt as if knives were piercing them, buthe lurched on. He had to get out of range or he was dead, too.
Every painful step seemed to take an eternity as the sec-onds raced by. Then a blast of heated air liftedhim high, hurling him through the trees till, with a sickening thump, he came to a halt. Daylight dimmedaround him and his last co-herent thought was that this hadn't been one of his better jobs.
* * *
Kusac was emotionally exhausted by the events of the last few hours, and sleep quickly claimed himdespite his fears.
Mid-morning ship time he was jerked violently awake seconds before every alarm on both their unitswent into alert.
"Vanna, get me out of this contraption," he yelled, strain-ing against the inside of the unit although he knew it was useless. He could sense Carrie again. She had come out of unconsciousness. Her mind was caught in some nightmare, broadcasting waves of fear and terror.
The warning tones dinned in his ears, adding to his ur-gency. "Turn that damned racket off!" he yelled.
Jack ran over to him, fumbling with the latches while Vanna bent over Carrie, checking her for physicalsigns of distress. One of the nurses ran to switch off the alarms and silence returned.
"Don't touch her, Vanna," Kusac said frantically, rolling off the bed as Jack finally got his cover free.
"Help me get the lid off!" he said, his hands flying over the catches on his side. As he finished, Vanna
pushed the lid back out of the way.
"I need a chair," he said, gently slipping his arms under Carrie and lifting her.
Jack brought one over, placing it behind him.
Kusac sat down, adjusting his hold on her till she was cra-dled in his arms like a small child.
Vanna held out a blanket. He frowned, looking at it.
"Without fur, she'll feel the cold more than us," she re-minded him.
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