Clan and Conscience

by Tracy St. John

  Ospar stared at him. The tone, that added ever—it was the promise a person more invested than a mere bodyguard would make. It struck him as a vow a clanmate would give.

  Ospar clutched at Jol and held him close, wondering at the sudden spark of joy in his heart. Could it be he hadn’t squandered his chances when it came to forgiveness? Could Jol be telling him he hadn’t given up on discovering if there might be even more?

  Stop it. You’re confused. Emotional. Reading much more in Jol’s statement than what’s there. The man can barely stand you.

  Yet Jol wasn’t looking at him as if he only tolerated Ospar’s existence. Jol looked at him as a lover would, with warmth. With feeling.

  Ridiculous. Still, it was a nice fantasy to indulge in for a little while.

  Chapter 11

  A new day. A new attitude. And maybe, a new start. As the middle of the day arrived, Ospar hummed a cheerful little tune, much as he had all morning. Though he was as tone-deaf as a man could be, he couldn’t help but hum. Even Jol’s occasional half-exasperated, half-amused glances had no effect. Instead of stopping or glaring at the Nobek, Ospar gave him a sunny smile…and kept droning the spritely melody that ran in his head, in his heart.

  It was ridiculous he should feel so good. He was under a death threat, after all. His ass still smarted from Jol’s flogging. Yet he had the notion that life was bright. Even that a fresh beginning for him was dawning.

  The night before, the feeling that he and Jol could be more than mere boss and worker was a fleeting fantasy, borne of intense emotion from their tempestuous encounter. Yet he’d awakened that morning in the Nobek’s arms, and it had felt glorious. Jol had returned his smile before catching himself and jumping out of the bed, grumbling under his breath.

  Ospar conceded that he was falling for Jol, the very man who had driven him crazier with rage and frustration than anyone before. It was ridiculous. Insane. Unbelievable. He didn’t care.

  Jol’s words proclaiming he’d keep Ospar safe rang like bells in the Dramok’s head. Ospar replayed them, along with the memory of the Nobek’s intent gaze when he’d said them. It was as close to a declaration of affection as a Nobek could give any man. It had to mean something if Jol said it.

  With that to delight in, Ospar was sure nothing in the world could make him feel any way but good. He sighed, damned near dripping in sentiment.

  As if he’d given a signal, Jol stood up from his desk. His straightforward demeanor was a counterpoint to Ospar’s romantic leanings. “I must check on some information I requested. Do you need anything while I’m out? Lunch?”

  “No thanks. I already ordered ronka plates for us, if that’s okay? They’ll be here in about twenty minutes.” He beamed at Jol.

  The Nobek’s brow lifted. A shadow passed over his face, and he gazed at Ospar with an expression of concern. Then he shook his head and started to leave. “That’s fine.”

  At the door, Jol paused and looked at Ospar again. Unease filled the Dramok’s gut, making his happy mood flicker. “What?”

  “Nothing. I’ll be back in a few seconds.” Jol left.

  Ospar watched him go, appreciating his fine lines as he walked to the corridor beyond Emano’s desk. He especially admired Jol’s butt, and his cocks twitched. He was overdue the opportunity to enjoy that ass. Tonight, he promised himself. He’d wine and dine the Nobek into the best mood possible while laying on the charm.

  Ospar forced himself to concentrate on work. He was behind in his tasks, having been distracted by Jol the day before too. Would he ever be able to apply himself to his job with the Nobek nearby?

  I’d better learn. I may be in the stupid throes of infatuation now, but if things do work out between us, I’m going to want him with me every second of the day. I need to accomplish something here, or he may have to go just so I can function like a normal person again.

  Since Ospar didn’t want that to happen, he applied himself to the task at hand. Lining up endorsements from the Eruz area business community to aid Itga’s bid for the contract took center stage—as well as all of the available space. Three computer images hovered over his desk. With Jol not there to for him to ogle, Ospar brought up two more holographic monitors, masking most of his vision of the room behind them. He went back to humming.

  Several minutes later, Ospar was aware of another tone, a harsh accompaniment to his tuneless little song. A faint, strident buzz. It sounded vaguely familiar. It irritated his ears, and he stopped humming. The other noise continued. He glanced around, trying to locate the source.

  The air exchange vent in the ceiling, about four feet away, seemed to be the area the buzz came from. With a sigh, Ospar sent Emano a memo to have maintenance check into the matter. The summer was heating up in the district, and the last thing Ospar wanted to do was sweat through the workday because the system had broken down.

  No sooner had he pressed the button to send the text message when his vid feeds from his computer went blank. All disappeared, his contacts and drafts of letters and scripts to the community leaders of Eruz. The vid screens remained up, white rectangles that stared blankly at him.

  “What the hell?” Ospar sputtered.

  Then words appeared on the five screens, a single sentence in large characters, repeated five times. GET OUT OF YOUR OFFICE NOW

  “What the hell?” Ospar repeated.

  At the same moment, he noticed the buzzing noise had gotten louder. He glanced at the vent again and jerked at what he saw.

  Small flying sensors called yanars were used in mines. The tools were sent into newly excavated areas to detect dangerous gases or lethally low oxygen before people were allowed to enter. They also did a good job of scanning for fractures in the rock that could lead to cave-ins. One of Ospar’s first acts upon becoming director of operations had been to invest in the latest state-of-the-art yanars for Itga’s mines. More recently, several thousand had been stored at the headquarters’ warehouse in anticipation of winning the Eruz contract.

  It was such a device buzzing down from the vent, flying straight for Ospar. The tiny device, no longer than his hand, had a small cylinder strapped to it. He didn’t have to identify the yanar’s load to know what it must be.

  Ospar leaped over his desk, his body hurtling through the holographic warnings still hovering there. He raced to his door at a full run.

  He slowed outside his office to grab a shocked Emano by the shoulder. “Run! Run!” Ospar shrieked, yanking on the gasping Imdiko.

  Emano didn’t question him or hesitate. He sprinted at Ospar’s side down the corridor towards Tebrok and Sallid’s office, screaming with the Dramok for everyone to get out of the section. Ospar yelled his uncles’ names, hoping they wouldn’t answer, hoping they had opted to arrive late as usual.

  He and Emano were halfway there when the explosion hit. The tremendous blast shook the floor hard enough to knock them down. As the ground quaked, they grabbed each other, each trying to shelter the other from falling wall decorations, tables, bits of ceiling panels, and office machines.

  After a few seconds, it was over. Ospar climbed to his feet, coughing a little in the settling dust. He hauled the wide-eyed Emano up and looked his aide over. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so. You?”

  “As far as I can tell.” Ospar peered at their surroundings, noting how floors, ceiling supports, and walls appeared intact. Stunned faces peeked out from doors. “Check with everyone, make sure your colleagues are safe,” he called.

  After glancing in the direction of his uncles’ office and noting their aides waving that all was well, he relaxed. The owners hadn’t shown up at work yet. He told Emano, “The blast came from my office. Let’s find out how it held up.”

  They walked back, weaving around the bits of debris along their path. The closer they got to Ospar’s workspace, the fewer colleagues there were to confirm the status of. No one seemed to be hurt.

  Talu and Jol arrived at the same moment as Ospar caught sight
of Emano’s desk, still sitting where it always did. The Imdiko, who had remained at the Dramok’s side, stopped in his tracks with a horrified cry.

  In a voice that came from a million miles away, Ospar said, “Emano, you now have a nice window to enjoy the view. We should install a balcony for you to enjoy your lunches.”

  Behind the aide’s desk gaped a huge hole, opening to at the blameless blue sky and curved terrain of the valley. Ospar’s office was gone.

  * * * *

  Even if Ospar’s uncles had been in their office during the explosion, they would have been unscathed. The delicate models of the mines showed no damage.

  Not that Ospar or any of the men crowding the room were admiring the detailed replicas. Groups clustered throughout, men of Itga being questioned by law enforcement for the third time in as many days.

  Emano, shaken and upset as shock wore off, was going over his statement with an investigator-enforcer pairing. Talu and Jol were with two more law enforcement duos. Though they hadn’t been present, Tebrok and Sallid were giving statements to another bunch.

  Ospar had drawn Investigator Nobek Axter and his enforcer sidekick, Nobek Golas. They were in charge of the investigation and were already familiar faces to Ospar after the previous attempts on his life. Their conversations about him nearly being blown up were becoming damned near casual.

  Ospar was impressed with the pair. Both were older, about the same ages as Sallid. They had the same cool and collected demeanor that Talu and Jol possessed. More so, even. Only a touch of danger simmered beneath their weathered, scarred faces that said they’d seen plenty and were rarely surprised by anything at that point of their careers. The sense of experience they carried soothed Ospar after each brush with death.

  As usual, it was Axter who did most of the talking. “This message you received; it came in on your computer?”

  “Yes. I had no chance to verify where it originated from though. Whoever sent it was able to access my system.”

  “Could it have gone through your com connection?”

  Ospar shrugged. “I do route my personal com to the office when I’m there. Would you like me to check?” He pulled his portable device from his belt.

  Enforcer Golas held out his hand. “If I may, Dramok?”

  “Of course.” Ospar showed him the passcode.

  Golas scrolled through the received coms. “Nothing here. Let me see—uh huh.” He displayed the com readout to Axter. “The message shows up as having been sent from this frequency, routing to the computer system.”

  Ospar stared at him. “From my frequency? Officer, I did not com myself.”

  “No, I doubt you did.” Golas offered him a twisted smile. “If someone knows what he is doing, he can use other coms or computers to access a frequency identification. That’s quite the talented hack job.”

  “Then there’s no way to find out the actual source?”

  Axter continued to study the unit. “There are. We’ll run this through tests, find the originating device—if it was accessed through another com, we might be able to dig out that unit’s frequency. It could take a while, however. I’ll have to confiscate your portable for the duration.”

  “Absolutely.” Ospar instantly agreed. “I’ll get another one with a different frequency.”

  Axter tucked the com in the small evidence bin he’d brought with him. He consulted his handheld computer and frowned over the notes.

  Ospar had already told the whole story twice and then answered questions about that story several times. Axter’s insistence on verifying all the tiniest details probably vexed most people he interviewed, but not Ospar. He wanted to be sure he’d remembered everything. If a tiny point could be found that would take down the syndicate, Ospar would answer Axter’s inquiries for the next twenty years.

  While Axter went through his notes, Ospar glanced over at Jol. The Nobek appeared grim as he met his gaze, angry even. Ospar worried he was blaming himself for not being there when the yanar-flown bomb had gone off.

  If things keep up, he won’t let me go to the restroom alone.

  Hoping it wouldn’t come to that, Ospar smiled to show he was okay. Jol dipped his head in acknowledgment, though his jaw remained tight.

  Axter resumed questioning. “Your bodyguard had left moments before the explosion, you said.”

  “That’s right.”

  “How would you characterize your relationship with Nobek Jol?”

  Ospar’s cheeks warmed as he thought of the night before, especially the manner it had ended. He thought of Jol’s promise that might mean so much more than what was on the surface. He swallowed and said, “We get along great.”

  “You told me that your visit to Pladon yesterday didn’t sit well with him.”

  “We’ve had contentious moments,” Ospar admitted. “Mostly because of me, if I’m to be honest about it.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m determined to do things how I want, and he’s determined to smother me with protection.”

  “There have been problems before the Pladon incident?”

  Axter was going in a direction Ospar rebelled against. “Nothing more than two alpha personalities running afoul of each other. We’ve straightened all that out, however.”

  An officer came near and gave Axter a pointed look. The investigator said, “Excuse us just a moment, Dramok.”

  He and Golas moved away a few steps to consult with the newcomer. Ospar took the opportunity to gaze at Jol again.

  The Nobek was no longer watching him. Instead, he appeared to be in a heated exchange with the officers in his group, though they kept their voices too low for Ospar to make out what was being said. Talu was close to his son, his face settled in grim lines.

  Unease grew in Ospar’s gut as he noted the narrow-eyed gazes Axter and Golas shot towards the bodyguard. Axter nodded to the newly arrived officer, who went over to Jol’s group.

  Axter and Golas returned to Ospar. The investigator didn’t consult his notes for his next question. “Did you know Dramok Urt commed Nobek Jol here at Itga following your visit to him at Pladon?”

  Ospar found it hard to breathe. “No. Jol said nothing about that.”

  “Do you know if Nobek Jol left your residence at any point last night when he was supposed to be there guarding you? Even for just a few seconds?”

  Ospar stared at Axter as if he had become a zibger, ready to pounce on him. “He stepped outside for several minutes.”

  “Did you observe what he was doing?”

  “No, I was, ah, tied up at the moment.” The heaviness in Ospar’s gut was turning painful. He had the wild urge to clap his hands over his ears and refuse to hear anymore of Axter’s questions.

  “You weren’t aware he met with a Nobek Lano?”

  “I don’t know any Nobek named Lano.”

  “He’s employed as personal security to Dramok Urt. Jol spoke to him within view of your home.”

  “This is Lano, since you haven’t had the pleasure of being introduced to him.” Sarcastic Golas showed Ospar a picture of a badly scarred Nobek. It was one of the men who had been in Urt’s office when Ospar invited himself in. One whom Jol had alleged worked with the syndicate.

  The pain in Ospar’s stomach grew, reaching up into his chest. “Are you positive?”

  Axter’s expression was compassionate for a Nobek. “The private security monitors of your housing area recorded the meeting, which lasted almost forty-five minutes.”

  The agony in the Dramok’s stomach was joined by nausea. It couldn’t be true. Jol had promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to Ospar.

  He’d promised.

  Hanging on to that, Ospar reminded the officers, “Jol saved me two days ago. He could have died getting that chemical bomb to a place where it was rendered harmless.”

  “At which point he became known to Dramok Urt and those connected to him. Compounded by him chasing after you when you visited Pladon. We’ve logged eyewitness accounts as to how an
gry you were with each other. He insisted you leave in an insulting manner. They say he was furious at you. Is that true?”

  “But—but—we got past that. Last night, we were fine with each other.”

  “Before or after he met with Nobek Lano?”

  Ospar tried not to vomit right then and there. “After.” When he stopped punishing me and made love instead. He glanced over at Jol again, who was scowling and looking angrier than ever. The tendons on his muscles stood out, a physiological response to a threat as the blood ran to muscles needing oxygen to fight.

  Axter refused to let up. “Nobek Jol had access to the yanars owned by Itga. They’re deemed a security tool, so it would have been no problem for him to take one and weaponize it.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Jol had held him all night. He cared for Ospar.

  “You and he have had a contentious relationship from the start, as witnessed by your aide Imdiko Emano and others. You’ve confirmed it yourself. He’s been in close contact with your biggest business rival and a Nobek suspected of serious criminal activity on the behalf of other entities. Entities who could pay him well for his assistance in removing an obstacle they’ve had a difficulty getting to…you, Dramok Ospar.”

  Before Ospar could think of a response beyond throwing up on Axter’s shoes, a growl from Jol’s grouping grabbed his attention. However, it wasn’t his bodyguard snarling, but Talu. The sound choked off. Jol’s father stepped back, away from his son, whom the officers converged on with hover cuffs at the ready. Though the head of security’s face had gone dark with fury, he refused to look at Jol.

  As if he couldn’t bear to see the progeny who had betrayed his trust.

  “No.” Ospar took a step towards the Nobek.

  Golas’ hand on his shoulder didn’t stop him. It was the cold stare Jol gave him. The Nobek displayed no sign of anything—no caring. No warmth. No sign he’d ever felt a single compassionate emotion when it came to Ospar.