Dark Nadir Page 13

  M’ezozakk felt Jo stiffen. “Have you an affection for this animal?” He reached for her arm, pulling back her sleeve. “I must ensure your interest in him dies,” he said, raising it to his mouth. “I would not want you distracted.” He bit down deeply on her forearm, making her scream out in pain and shock.

  “No, not that!” howled Rezac in Valtegan, his struggles becoming more frantic as Joe tried to pull away from M’ezozakk. Abruptly, the fight went out of him and with a whimper, he sagged against the soldiers, an agonized look on his face.

  Releasing Jo, M’ezozakk thrust her at J’koshuk. “See she’s quartered in the room opposite mine. Guard her well: the drug works faster on Humans.”

  “Yes, General,” murmured the priest, gesturing for two soldiers to escort her above.

  M’ezozakk switched his attention to Rezac. “Put the U’Churians in the main hold for the time being, and the Sholans in the other. J’koshuk, he’s yours,” he said, indicating Rezac. “I want information from him. He speaks Valtegan, I want to know where he learned it, and what these Humans are up to.”

  “Yes, General.”

  “The other Human?” ventured Mzayb’ik.

  “Put her with the U’Churians for now,” said M’ezozakk, turning and heading for the turbo lift in the wake of Jo and her escort. “I want to speak to the Cabbarans.” He stopped, and turned to look at his two officers. “And I want no more mistakes. No deaths unless I order them, is that understood? Don’t get carried away with your calling, J’koshuk. You’ll get your chance to play with him after I have my information!”

  * * *

  As the guards moved to separate them, Kaid stirred, about to step forward. Tirak grabbed him, holding him back. “No!” he hissed. “Let them think you’re U’Churians. You’re more use to your people with us than with them!”

  When he hesitated, T’Chebbi spoke. “He’s right. Look how few guard us in comparison to our people.”

  The opportunity was gone as half a dozen soldiers began to herd them toward the cargo hold at the rear of the ship.

  * * *

  T’Chebbi sat with Kate, talking to her, holding her, trying to get some response from her other than a low, repetitive whimpering. But the teenager was too deeply in shock. Being separated from Taynar hadn’t helped.

  The rest of them crouched in a silent group on the bare metal deck. Eventually Tirak spoke.

  “What did M’ezozakk do to Jo? Why did he bite her?”

  “Zashou says it’s a mating thing, to bind a female to that particular male. Their teeth secrete a chemical which they inject with their bite,” said Kaid. “It makes the female violently aggressive and protective of the male who’s bitten her, fighting off any other male who approaches her. He did it partly to goad Rezac.”

  “It worked,” said Sheeowl.

  T’Chebbi came over. “I can do nothing with her,” she sighed, squatting down beside Kaid. “Can you reach Rezac? Is there anything you can do to help him?”

  Kaid nodded. “I can reach him, and could help deaden the pain, but to what purpose?” he asked heavily. “When I sleep, he’ll bear the full brunt of it himself and that’ll be worse for him.” He only prayed that he’d inherited his strength and determination from his father and that Rezac would survive. “I’ve done what I can for Zashou. Luckily, their Link is still dormant. She’s sleeping for now.”

  “You can’t just leave him to cope alone!” said Giyesh.

  “Believe me, he doesn’t want me inside his mind right now,” said Kaid. “I’ve been where he is. He doesn’t need a witness to his suffering, and that’s all I’d be.”

  “What about Jo?” asked Manesh.

  “I can’t reach her.”

  “Isn’t there a danger these Valtegans will pick up your telepathy?” asked Tirak.

  “No, they’re not able to sense it themselves, and these ones know nothing about either Sholan or Human telepaths,” he said, resting his head on his forearms.

  “How’s Jeran?” asked Giyesh, reaching out to touch him. “Can you tell him I’m concerned for him, that he’s to take care?”

  Kaid nodded.

  “It was the Cabbarans they wanted all along,” said Tirak, resting back against the bulkhead. “Why?”

  “I’ll hazard a guess,” said Sheeowl. “Their navigational skills. They’ve been to Jalna, they know what the Cabbarans can do, and they want a team for themselves. Could they be lost, unable to find their way back home?”

  “Possibly,” said Kaid. “More likely it’s to aid their war effort. Keiss was used as an R and R world for their troops. We know very little about them, not even who they’re fighting.”

  “So the rest of us are superfluous. What do we do?” asked Tirak. “Sit here and rot while we wait for this M’ezozakk to kill us all?”

  “We make sure we give them false information about our species, information that will aid our people against them,” said Kaid. “And we wait for an opportunity to escape, or to be rescued.”

  “You’re wonderfully optimistic,” said Giyesh, a note of hysteria in her voice. “Look around you, Kaid! I couldn’t get a distress signal sent out before we were taken, and we’re sealed in this cargo hold!”

  “Pull yourself together, Giyesh,” snapped Sheeowl. “You knew this mission could be dangerous when you chose to come with us.”

  “We’re in the vehicle bay,” said T’Chebbi. “A shuttle stands outside, and the Profit is only a short walk away through the docking port.”

  “It might as well be on Jalna!”

  “We only need one person to escape for as long as it takes to send a coded message to Jalna,” said Kaid. “Till then, we play it cooperatively and stay alive.”

  “Our people start looking for us soon,” added T’Chebbi. “Yours, too.”

  “How soon?” asked Sayuk.

  “Seven, perhaps eight days. Maybe sooner,” said Kaid. “Then they’ll come looking for us. And they’ll find the cryo units.”

  “If the Valtegans don’t find them first,” said Manesh quietly.

  * * *

  Rhyasha Aldatan closed the nursery suite door behind her and made her way along the balcony to the guest suite where Dr. Jack Reynolds and his Companion Jiszoe were staying. As she collapsed tiredly into the comfort of the bowl-shaped easy chair, the Human physician rose and went to the dispenser unit, returning with a gently steaming mug for her.

  She accepted it, sniffing curiously at the brown liquid. “Kashini’s finally fallen asleep,” she said, taking a cautious sip. “I’ve never known a cub to behave like that before—and the noise she was making!”

  “It’s her Human side,” said Jack, lowering his tall, slightly portly frame into his seat. “All Human babies cry like that.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with her?” she asked the doctor. “It started so suddenly, Dzaka said. I can’t believe it was just a bad dream as her nurse says.”

  “Dzaka’s empathic talent has proved most reliable and useful at the medical center and elsewhere, Clan Leader,” Jiszoe said quietly. “Jack relies on him a great deal, even when we have telepathic nurses and medics on duty. If he says it was just a dream, then that’s what it is. I’d trust his, and Kitra’s, opinions.”

  “Kashini was certainly extremely distressed when I arrived,” said the older female, taking another mouthful. “This is nice,” she said, indicating the mug. “What is it?”

  “A chocolate derivative drink,” said Jack. “Something to help you rest. I assure you, Rhyasha, there is nothing wrong with your granddaughter. You have my word on it. May I suggest that we all go back to bed? Morning has gotten far too close.”

  “It’s good advice,” said Miosh, leaning forward to pat her friend’s hand. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us tomorrow, with the vet coming to check the breeding stock.”

  “And he always arrives early,” sighed Rhyasha as she finished her drink. Putting the mug down on the low table, she got to her feet. Hesitating at the doo
r, she said, “You’ll call me if anything . . .”

  “Nothing will happen except that little madam will wake up at the crack of dawn, as bright and breezy as usual,” said Miosh, opening the door and drawing her through it.

  * * *

  “You didn’t tell your mother everything,” said Dzaka as Kitra collapsed in an exhausted heap in the central depression of their bed.

  “What good would it have done?” she asked tiredly. “Whatever it was, it’s happened and been dealt with, for good or ill. What we have to decide now is what we do about it.”

  “We need to get word to their rendezvous ship.” He climbed onto the bed, curling himself round his young Companion and slipping an arm under her neck. “Tell them we’re sure my father and your brother and bond-sister are in trouble.”

  “How, though, without panicking Mother and Father? And who’s going to believe us when I say I picked this information up from a cub only three months old?”

  “Father Lijou,” he said, wrapping his other arm across her waist. “He has the contacts.”

  “Good thinking,” she murmured, reaching out to run her fingers through the long, brindled fur on his chest. “You can contact him in an hour or so when we’ve had some sleep. I don’t know what we’d have done without you, you’re so good with Kashini.”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I did very little. I’m afraid it hasn’t been a good weekend.”

  “Not true. You’re a natural father, Dzaka. You must really miss your own family.”

  Nnya, and his son, Khyaz, killed by the Valtegans on Szurtha. A wave of sadness swept through him and his arms tightened around Kitra, needing her warmth, her life, her nearness. He loved her more than he dared tell her. Everything about his beautiful young Companion marked her as beyond his reach. The youngest child of the main Aldatan Clan family, one of the strongest telepathic bloodlines on Shola, her future was not in a marriage to a gene-altered Brother like himself who couldn’t even share his cubs with her.

  “Though I’ll always grieve for their passing, it’s you I’m with now. You gave me back what I thought I’d lost when they died—my life,” he said.

  A gentle purr began to vibrate through her body. “They’re placing bets, the Brothers and Sisters on the estate, that we’ll life-bond before the year’s out.”

  He grunted. He’d been aware of the betting for some time and had studiously ignored it—as he was trying to ignore her.

  “What would you say if I asked you now?” Her voice was drowsy, on the verge of sleep.

  “There’s time enough ahead of us, Kitra. The year’s just begun. We have now, let it be enough,” he said, searching for an ear in the cloud of tight, blonde curls, then, when he found it, gently licking its tip. “You might meet someone else you like more.”

  “So might you, and I don’t want that to happen.” Her voice became suddenly more alert. “Dzaka, will you . . .”

  He tilted her face up to his. “Don’t ask me now, Kitra,” he said forcefully. “You’re only fourteen, in your first year as an adult. I’d have to say no, and I don’t want to. You can’t choose a life-mate when you’ve only known one male. Anyway, your father will likely choose one for you.”

  “I don’t need to know anyone else. I know who I want, just as my mother did.”

  He made an exasperated noise. Vartra knew he wanted her as his life-mate, but now was too soon to tell her it was impossible. Even if they’d been genetically compatible, her father, Lord over all the Telepath Clans, would definitely refuse them because she was so young and inexperienced.

  “You said if I asked now. What if I left it? Then you would say yes? Is that what you mean?”

  “When you’ve seen more of life, know what you really want, then we’ll talk about it,” he temporized.

  “How long, Dzaka?” she asked, nose wrinkling. “A year—two?”

  For him, an empath, her intensity was a palpable force that was becoming more uncomfortable for him by the minute. He did the only thing he could, diverted her.

  * * *

  Day 5

  Early the next day, Dzaka headed out to Stronghold. Father Lijou listened to Dzaka’s story in silence. He took his time replying. This would need careful handling.

  “I understand your Companion’s fears, Dzaka,” he began.

  “Mine, too, Father Lijou,” interrupted Dzaka.

  “. . . and yours,” he amended, with an inner sigh. “But you have to realize I need more than this to start an alert.”

  “An inquiry, then. Find out what the situation is with them.”

  “We’re expecting a report shortly. Clan Lord Aldatan is in communication with the Rhijissoh in his capacity as head of Alien Relations. If anything’s wrong with his son and bond-daughter, believe me, he’ll be the first to be informed. And if, as you fear, it’s already happened and been dealt with, there’s little we can do anyway.”

  “They can get there sooner and be ready for any medical emergency.”

  “The Rhijissoh is always ready for emergencies. It’s a class Y recon ship, prepared for anything. Meaning no disrespect to your Companion, Dzaka, you have to remember she’s just out of childhood . . .”

  “Females mature earlier, Father Lijou,” said Dzaka stiffly. “And her lack of years doesn’t affect my judgment of the situation.”

  “You’re an empath, not a telepath. Did you consider that her emotions might have colored even your perception, which at the moment is far from impartial?”

  “Are you saying my judgment is flawed, Father?”

  Vartra save me from self-righteous young males, Lijou thought with another sigh. “No, I am merely saying it’s natural for you to be affected by Liegena Kitra’s distress for her brother and bond-sister. And your own fears for your father.”

  “The distress was Kashini’s,” reminded Dzaka.

  This was going nowhere fast. Lijou got to his feet, bringing the interview to an abrupt end. “I will do what I can, Brother Dzaka, but I will not alarm the Clan Lord or the Rhijissoh without good cause. Now, you will have to excuse me, I left a meeting to speak to you.”

  “For that, I thank you, Father Lijou,” said Dzaka with stiff formality as he got up. “Should Kitra and I sense any more from Kashini, I will pass on your words of comfort to my Companion and my niece.”

  “You forget yourself, Brother Dzaka.” It was his turn to be sharp. “You are only consolidating my opinion with this attitude. I suggest you retire to the temple for the next two hours and pray to Vartra to clear your thoughts so you can view the matter more dispassionately.”

  Dzaka threw him a smoldering glance before bowing his head in obedience. Silently, the young priest left the room, closing the door carefully behind him. The final click of the lock sounded loudly in the silence.

  Muttering oaths and imprecations, Lijou left his office through the door to his private quarters, heading for the bedroom where his life-mate Kha’Qwa, now with only eight weeks to go in her pregnancy, was lying resting.

  The drapes were partially closed, keeping out the brightness of the late spring day so she could doze.

  “Kha’Qwa, are you awake?” he asked, hesitating in the doorway.

  “I am now,” she said. “Even with my psi gifts on the wane, I could sense you two. Take him seriously, Lijou. Remember Carrie finished her last weeks of pregnancy in four days while they were in the Fire Margins, and as a result, Kashini was born a fully awakened telepath. And how else would a cub Kashini’s age communicate her fear? Tell Rhyaz what Dzaka said, even if you speak to no one else. Remember, you wanted Dzaka to get more involved with life again. Now he is.”

  “What if they’re wrong?”

  “What if they’re right?”

  * * *

  While the priest stood a short distance away talking to the guards, irrelevant thoughts buzzed around like insects in Rezac’s brain. He let them. They prevented him from reaching out psychically to try and blast the priest’s mind. He’d lost t
rack of time. He thought there had been a point when he’d been left alone for some time—a sleep period for them, perhaps, but there’d been no rest possible for him. The hard leather cuffs that held him to the wall bit deeply into his throat and wrists as his legs began to buckle under him.

  He jerked upright again, gasping for breath as the sudden movement sent agony through his side. He knew he had at least one broken rib, maybe more. His legs began to tremble under his weight again and he tried to force them as straight as they would go, damning both his weakness and his stupidity at getting himself into this situation.

  They know nothing about telepaths, either Sholan or Human, Kaid had sent to him as he’d been dragged off. They’re psychotic about destroying us. They must not find out Shola exists.

  Help Jo and Zashou, was all he’d had the chance to send as they fastened him to the wall in one of the empty cargo holds. The Gods alone knew how many hours—or days—ago that had been.

  “Soften him up,” J’koshuk had ordered the guards, then stood back and watched while he was beaten nearly senseless. Then he’d taken over and the real pain and the questions began.

  Kaid had been right about their attitude toward Sholans. He’d never had such brutality directed at him before. On K’oish’ik, he and Zashou had been the favored pets of the Emperor Q’emgo’h. They’d been roughly handled, but nothing like this. But then, in those days when his telepathic Talent had first been enhanced, all that was necessary was to expose him, or any of them, to the pain of other people. They experienced it as if it was their own, and it had them bent double, retching in seconds. His Link with Jo had reversed that for both him and Zashou, but everything had its price and now he was paying.

  The collar round his neck was bolted to the wall behind him, preventing him from resting even during this respite. As his head sagged down once more, it cut into the underside of his jaw, forcing him to lift his chin again. He peered across at his torturers from under swollen eye ridges, straining his ears forward, trying to catch what they were saying. They were too far away.

  He thought of his mates. What would this do to them? What were they suffering? Jo, hurt by M’ezozakk in the past and now in his power again—his creature now that he’d bitten her. If only he hadn’t cried out, it would never have happened. And Zashou. Fragile and sensitive, not a fighter at all. Thank all the Gods that their Link was still dormant. He clenched his hands, moaning in despair, realizing that his own foolish actions had brought this down on all three of them.