Fire Margins Page 4

  The wooden bars of the pen began to vibrate as the keeper, yelling loudly, hammered at them with his club.

  Around him, Jeran heard the others begin to stir.

  “What is it?” mumbled Tesha, her voice thick with sleep.

  “Can you tell what he wants, Tallis?” Jeran asked as he pushed himself upright, blinking furiously to clear his eyes of the straw dust that Tesha had raised.

  “I’m not a high grade telepath, Jeran, I keep telling you!” Tallis’ voice was a low snarl of anger. “We’ve only been here a few hours. It takes months even for the grade ones to understand an alien mind!”

  “Stow it, Tallis,” said Tesha, hauling herself out of the straw. “We know your limitations; you never stop reminding us of them.”

  “Miroshi’s the expert,” muttered Tallis. “Not me.”

  Jeran turned and began feeling through the straw, trying to locate the last member of their group.

  “I’m here,” she said, her voice hardly audible through the din the keeper was still making. Her hand closed round his as she began to sit up.

  She looked frail, worse than she had aboard the ship. Jeran helped her, remaining at her side, shielding her from the keeper.

  “This seems to be their world, Miroshi,” he said, flicking an ear toward the keeper. “If you can read them, pick up their language, it would help us all.” He hated himself for having to ask her but he had no option.

  “Tallis, give me your hand,” she sighed, leaning against Jeran. “I need your energy if I’m going to try to read them.”

  As Tallis shuffled over, Jeran turned to look out through the cage bars at their tormentor.

  It was the keeper, but this time there was someone else with him. A younger person, cleaner than the other—he could smell the perfume from here—with his hair hanging tidily to his shoulders. He wore less fur on his face than the other, and what he had was trimmed to match his mouth and jawline. The clothing was better quality, richer and brighter in hue. Everything about this one spoke of a male of importance and position on this world.

  He could feel Miroshi beginning to work now. Not a telepath himself, he had enough sensitivity to give him an inkling of the world Miroshi and her kind lived in. He felt her pull on his energy, too, then suddenly his mind was flooded with information and it was done. All three of them felt drained and weaker, but now they understood these strange, partly furred aliens.

  “Hey, what about me?” muttered Tesha, keeping a wary eye on the two people outside their cage.

  “Tallis, you can do that much,” whispered Miroshi, closing her eyes.

  The unintelligible shouts from the keeper began to slowly resolve themselves into words as Jeran struggled to understand what was being said.

  “Not U’Churians?” the younger one was saying.

  “No, Lord Bradogan. None of them are black, they’re all different in color. U’Churians come only in black, with longer fur than these ones,” the keeper was saying.

  “They don’t look worth the price I paid for them,” said Bradogan disgustedly. “Half starved, beaten—and we don’t even know for sure they’re intelligent yet!”

  “Oh, they’re intelligent,” laughed the keeper. “There’s two of each in there. The males knew enough of what was going on to try and protect their women! The two smaller ones are the women,” he said helpfully.

  “Beasts will do that. They all look the same,” said Bradogan, stepping closer to the bars. “Women should look like women, not flat-chested like them.” He waved a derisory hand at the Sholans. “I suppose they’re worth it to keep those damned Valtegans away. Thank God they don’t come here often!”

  “What do you want done with them, Lord Bradogan? They won’t sell in the state they’re in.”

  “Move them out of this flea-ridden cage to the prison. Feed them, get an animal doctor to see to them, and for God’s sake, try and find out what they’re good for! I want my money’s worth out of those mangy carcasses!” he said, turning away.

  “They’d make good pets,” offered the keeper. “They haven’t got much fight in them just now, but if they have, I can tame them, see that they’re docile. You could sell them as pets to those Northern Lords if they’re no good for anything else.”

  “I’ll consider that when they look like a salable commodity,” said Bradogan as he walked away.

  “Pets!” growled Tesha. “They’d make pets out of us!”

  “What’s a pet?” asked Jeran.

  “A harmless beast with little intelligence. They keep them to look pretty and do clever tricks to amuse them,” said Miroshi tiredly.

  “Talking to each other, are you?” said the keeper, leaning up against the bars. “Well, talk about this! You’d better find something that makes you worth your keep or Lord Bradogan will have your skins to decorate his floors! You play dumb with me and you’ll make it worse for yourselves.” He stopped and called his handlers over.

  “We’re moving them to the port tower,” he said. “Get them collared and ready to go.”

  Miroshi began to whimper. “Don’t let them touch me, Jeran,” she said. “I can’t bear their touch! So ugly and violent! Please don’t let them touch me,” she begged.

  “I’ll do what I can,” he promised, knowing that there was little he could do.

  The cage door opened and the first of the males came in. In one hand he held one of the chain collars that had been used on them when they’d been brought here from the landing pad. Vicious things that tightened round the throat if they didn’t keep the leash slack. In the other, he held an electric prod.

  The male edged forward cautiously, reaching out with the prod and gesturing to Tallis.

  “You,” he said. “I’ll have you first.”

  Making a decision, Jeran carefully put Miroshi aside and rose to his feet.

  “We’ll come quietly,” he said, stumbling over the alien words. It would take some time before their speech was fluent.

  “Jeran!” exclaimed Tallis. “What are you doing?”

  “Miroshi can’t take any more of this treatment,” he said. “They need to know not to touch her.”

  “What the hell … Hey, Neban!” the surprised handler yelled, not taking his eyes off them. “These damned cats can speak our language!”

  The keeper swung back to stare at them. “Bring him out first,” he said, pointing to Jeran.

  Holding his hands up at chest level, palms facing outward to show he meant no harm, Jeran moved carefully toward the male with the prod.

  “D’you want him collared?”

  “Too right,” said Neban. “They’re even more dangerous now we know they’re not animals.”

  Jeran ducked his head down, folding his ears flat so the chain could be slipped over his head. As it settled round his neck over the sores caused by the Valtegan collars, he shuddered. It was cold and heavy. The male backed out of the cage before tightening his grip on the leash and pulling Jeran out.

  The collar tightened, choking him, making him cough. As he stumbled forward, he put his hands up to the noose, trying to loosen it so he could breathe.

  “Leave it,” the handler snapped, about to touch him with the prod.

  Neban slapped his arm away. “No need,” he said. “Not unless he gets violent. So you’re the leader, are you?” he said to Jeran. “I’m glad you decided to cooperate. You see, the more you cooperate, the better the price I get for you, and the better price you fetch, the better owner you have. Understand?”

  Still holding onto the noose, Jeran nodded. “We’ve got skills,” he said. “We’re a space-going people ourselves. You could ransom us. Our people will pay to get us back.”

  “That’s not up to me,” said Neban. “My job’s to get you trained and fit to sell, that’s all. You cooperate with me, and you’ll get well treated. You don’t, and … Well, I reckon I don’t need to tell you since you’ve experienced Valtegan hospitality.” He grinned, mouth splitting sideways as he showed his teeth.

>   Jeran stepped back in shock. Immediately the noose tightened again, choking him until he loosened it.

  “Right, get the others out,” Neban said, turning back to the cage. “Unless you want to tell them to walk out?”

  Holding onto the collar’s loop, Jeran turned to his friends. “If you don’t come out yourselves, they’ll use the prods,” he said. “Tallis, help Miroshi.”

  Tesha was next out, stumbling as she stepped out onto the hard concrete pavement. A chain noose was immediately slipped over her head and she was dragged clear of the exit. Clinging to Tallis, Miroshi staggered out, holding onto the cage doorway for support.

  “What’s wrong with her?” demanded Neban, reaching out to pull her away from Tallis.

  “Don’t touch her!” exclaimed Tallis, trying to fend him off. Two prods hit him simultaneously and he collapsed to the ground mewling and writhing in agony.

  “Please, leave her,” said Jeran, forcing himself to remain still. “She’s a telepath. When anyone touches her, she knows their thoughts. The Valtegans hurt her badly—she can’t stand being touched again.”

  “Mind readers?” exclaimed Neban, letting his hand drop. “How many of you are mind readers?” he demanded.

  “Only two,” answered Jeran. “Tallis is the other.” He pointed to where Tallis lay on the ground curled in a fetal position, moaning.

  Neban grunted. “She ill?”

  “No, just weakened by their mental brutality. All she needs is food and time for her mind to heal. Let me carry her,” Jeran said. “She can tolerate my touch.”

  “What about him?” Neban pointed at Tallis.

  “They weren’t so hard on him. He’s stronger than Miroshi.”

  “You,” said Neban, pointing to Tesha, “You help him. Put the collar on him.”

  Tesha took the collar from the handler, and bending down, slipped it round Tallis’ neck, then helped him to his feet.

  The prod shock was beginning to wear off now, and though still in pain, Tallis was able to stand.

  Neban turned back to Jeran. “You can see to the other woman,” he said, handing him the last collar.

  Jeran looked at his handler, making sure the leash was slack before he stepped over to Miroshi.

  “They’ll let me carry you,” he said quietly as he slipped the loop over her head. “If they see how weak you are, it might ensure us better treatment.”

  She nodded, shivering as he had when the chain fell round her throat. Putting her hand up to touch it, she looked up at him. “This is it, isn’t it, Jeran? We’ve no chance of being rescued, have we? We’re going to die on this Godsforsaken world, aren’t we?” Tears began to fill her eyes.

  Jeran bent to pick her up. She hardly weighed anything, he realized with a shock. “Don’t give up hope, Miroshi,” he whispered. “They’ll not give up on us, believe me.”

  “Have you looked at the sky?” she whispered, her mouth close to his ear. “I don’t recognize the stars, Jeran! If we don’t know where we are, how can they?”

  He had no answer to give her as he turned round to face Neban.

  Chapter 2

  Konis Aldatan, blithely unaware of the incidents spanning the early hours of that morning, hesitated before switching off his comm. For no reason he could fathom, he keyed in Kaid’s number.

  A few moment’s delay, then his son’s aide answered. “Clan Lord, what can I do for you?”

  Konis hesitated, wondering if he was about to make a fool of himself. “Ah, Kaid,” he began, his ears betraying him by the faintest flicks of embarrassment. “Governor Nesul has appointed me to be in charge of anomalous Leska pairs, like my son and Carrie. My work will be based at the Telepath Guildhouse in Valsgarth. I’m about to go there now to notify Guild Master Esken in person of the Governor’s appointment, and …” He faltered, unsure how to phrase his request.

  “T’Chebbi will be ready to accompany you within five minutes, Clan Lord,” said Kaid. “Shall I have her meet you in your office, or would you prefer her to bring an aircar to the main entrance?”

  Konis could feel the tension flow out of him as Kaid spoke. “Tell me I’m being foolish, Kaid,” he said abruptly, watching the other for signs of his reaction.

  “I wish I could, Clan Lord,” said Kaid. “Unfortunately, I think you’re wise to have an escort of T’Chebbi’s caliber. Your appointment will not be … popular in certain circles. While I don’t think for an instant anyone would seriously attempt to harm you, it might be as well if I found you a permanent aide to help you in much the same way as I help your son and bond-daughter.”

  He agrees with me! thought Konis as he stared at the impassive face before him. What is happening to us when I’m afraid to visit my own Guild without an armed escort? He felt the fur on his neck and shoulders start to rise. With an effort he pushed his anger aside. It served no useful purpose at this time and would only distract him from the business at hand.

  He nodded. “See to it, if you please, Kaid.” He paused. “It seems we could do with someone in charge of security for the whole household,” he said bitterly.

  “I would consider that a wise decision, Clan Lord,” said Kaid, one ear flicking in agreement. “My own duties prevent me from taking on such a responsibility, but I can certainly find someone with the expertise you require.”

  “The world’s gone mad,” muttered Konis, half to himself.

  “No, Clan Lord,” said Kaid. “The world is finally beginning to come to its senses.”

  Konis looked sharply at him but as always, Kaid’s features and mind were impassive. “Have T’Chebbi meet me at the front,” he said. “Contact your person and have him take charge of security. Keep me informed of what’s needed.”

  He cut the connection, staring at the screen for several moments before he shook his head and got to his feet.

  *

  T’Chebbi brought the aircar down in the parking area by the medical center.

  “We’ll leave the vehicle here until I’ve checked up on those killings,” Konis told her.

  T’Chebbi nodded, securing the instrument panel before getting up. “As you wish, Clan Lord,” she said.

  Konis glanced back at her as he stepped out of the aircar. “T’Chebbi, as my aide, I expect you to talk to me, to offer advice, and to deal with Esken’s people if they start troubling me, not to just stand there like some threatening statue! You do know the protocol, don’t you? I presume Kaid wouldn’t have suggested you otherwise.”

  T’Chebbi’s nose wrinkled, then her mouth opened slightly. “You want me to be your aide for today?” she asked.

  Konis frowned. “Isn’t that what I’ve just said?”

  She nodded. “As the Clan Lord wishes,” she said, her tone this time holding an undercurrent of amusement.

  As she stepped out of the aircar, Konis looked at her again, wondering briefly if Kaid had made an error in judgment. She looked like exactly what she was—a bodyguard.

  To start with, she only came up to his shoulder. Icy gray eyes, now with a glint of humor in them, regarded him calmly. Her pelt, longer than usual for most Sholans, was a brindled color. It was contrasted by her long, dark hair which she wore in a single, thick plait. Like Kaid, she was of Highland stock.

  At the entrance to the medical unit, T’Chebbi held the auto-doors open for Konis to enter while she glanced round the waiting area. At the reception counter, again she preceded him.

  “Clan Lord Aldatan wishes to see the cubs brought in from the Ghuulgul desert three weeks ago,” she said. “Where are they?”

  The nurse on duty opened his mouth in shock, staring at T’Chebbi dressed in her active Brotherhood grays. A long knife mounted on a shoulder baldric was visible just above her shoulder, and at her waist hung a modern energy pistol.

  “The Clan Lord waits,” she said, her voice dropping to a low rumble.

  “You can’t go in dressed like that,” he said, eyes flicking round the room, looking vainly for a superior to deal with this problem.
“We don’t allow weapons in here. This unit is part of the Telepath Guild, you know.”

  T’Chebbi leaned forward to pick up the comp pad that lay in front of him.

  “Hey, you can’t do that! That information is confidential!”

  A couple of keystrokes and she had the information she needed. “Not from the Clan Lord,” said T’Chebbi, sliding it back across the counter to him. She turned to Konis. “I know where, Liege,” she said, indicating a door to their right.

  Konis followed her down the main corridor until they came to a junction to the left. As they turned down there, T’Chebbi fell behind him moments before he heard the sound of running feet.

  “Third door on the right, Liege,” said T’Chebbi. “I’ll stay outside.”

  Somewhat nonplussed, Konis nodded, and increasing his walking pace, was in the room and closing the door behind him before he heard the raised voices.

  At the center of the room, sitting on a large floor cushion, were the kitlings. Two small faces looked up curiously at him as he lowered his mental shield. He needed to pick up all the information he could from them before the hospital staff interrupted him.

  “Hello,” said the young female.

  Konis moved farther into the room, squatting down on his haunches so his face was level with theirs. “Hello,” he said. “You’re … Jinoe?” He turned to look at the young male. “And you’re Rrai, aren’t you?”

  Hazel eyes, large in the narrow face, looked warily at him. Rrai nodded, trying hard to prevent his ears from folding sideways with apprehension as he pushed himself upright.

  “You’re the Clan Lord, aren’t you? They’re saying you shouldn’t be in here,” he said with a faint grin as he inclined his head toward the door.

  “You want to know if we’re better, don’t you?” Jinoe asked. “Mostly it just itches now, it doesn’t hurt.”

  He looked back at the young female. Like her Leska, she was wire-thin, her dark eyes large and full of … a soul-deep hurt … something no young one should know.