Confluence, p.29
Confluence, page 29
Ryan nodded and then shook his head.
She chuckled. “Well, which is it?”
He held up a spent cartridge of rhevehnl. “Shiny guy gave me. I snapped in my leg.”
“Careful.” Eschala grabbed Ryan’s wrist and took the sharp from his hand. As she looked closely at it, she asked, “Did he dose you?”
Ryan shook his head.
Her brows pinched together. “Did you take what’s dialed in here?” She motioned to small numbers calibrated on the bottom of the canister that allowed the device to be twisted to administer a measured quantity. It was currently set on the maximum.
Ryan opened and closed his eyes as he tried to focus on the cannister. He shrugged and looked back at Eschala.
She chuckled again. “OK, you just took enough rhevehnl to drop a bull khaythal. How you feelin’?” She gently grabbed his left upper arm to steady him.
Ryan smiled and shrugged again. She pawed in the kit beside him, and he noticed her hand holding his arm. As he looked back to her eyes, she jabbed another needle into his thigh.
“Ow.” Ryan wiggled under her hand as she held the syringe in his leg.
“Stop wiggling or you’ll break off the needle in your leg. Hold steady…You’ll be fine, tough guy.” After a few seconds, she withdrew it. “That should counteract the rhevehnl and keep you from completely overdosing.”
Ryan’s gaze was captivated by her hands working on his injuries. The sight of Eschala as she cared for him reminded him of Mahrno’s tending long ago. He recalled the feeling of trust in his Paavi mother’s hands. He opened his eyes wider and looked long at Eschala. He trusted her hands too. Ryan mumbled and cleared his throat.
She stopped and looked at him again. “You trying to say somethin’? I’m gettin’ a little worried here. Still with me?”
Ryan smiled. “You…”
“Yeah…what about me?”
He cleared his throat again. “You’re b…beautiful. Really beautiful.”
Eschala cracked a wide smile. “You’re delirious.”
Ryan blinked slowly. “Never seen you all dolled up.”
She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows as she returned his gaze. “Doll? You know I could punch up the other corner of this mouth to match.” She squinted, looking at the blood in the corner of his lip.
He ignored her threat and spoke softly. “You smell good too.”
She frowned. “That musta’ been quite a hit to the head. Should I be calling for a med tech?”
“I’m not kiddin’. You’re the best. You know that, right?”
She chuckled and stood up, smiling. “I’m sorry; did you say the best warrior?”
Tilting his head back, Ryan closed his eyes and smiled. “Yeah, warrior…beauty…all of it…You’re somethin’ else.”
“You’re still actin’ a little goofy.” She gently shook him. “Hey, you know where you are?”
He nodded and opened his eyes. “Course. I’m with you. We’re here together.” He grinned.
“You had a crash, remember?”
Ryan grimaced. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.” He huffed and smiled. “One of the better crashes.”
Eschala smiled back to him with a raised eyebrow. “Had a lot of crashes, have you?”
“Well yeah, but they weren’t all my fault.”
Eschala snapped another counter dose into Ryan’s thigh.
“Hurts. Why you keep snappin’ me?”
“Because you’re blotto…too blotto.” She looked at his eyes for a moment. “Look up at the lights.”
Ryan looked up and winced. “Those are really bright.”
“Look at me again.” She continued to gaze into his pupils.
“You’re bossy.”
She ignored him and put her fingers on his neck.
He wiggled in protest. “Hey, what’re you doin’?”
“Trying to find your hearts. Where do you guys have your…” She moved her finger around until she found Ryan’s carotid artery. “There. I’ve got a rhythm. Your second pulse is really weak.”
Ryan chuckled. “So I been told.” He reached up and gently pulled her hand away. “I think I’m coming back to life.”
“Look up again to the lights for me.”
Ryan did so and squinted before looking back down at her. “Ugh, I feel like the morning after a night of recreational poisoning.”
“Your eyes are dilating correctly. Better. Phew, you were goin’ down the wrong path there. What the hell were you thinking taking a full dose?”
“How should I know? The guy didn’t say anything about dosage. He gave it to me and told me I needed my head examined.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “Well, least he was spot-on in one area.” She focused on the knot above his temple. “You gettin’ your wits back about you?”
Ryan winced at her touch. “Yeah, the pain’s back.”
She dug deeper in the first aid kit she’d pulled earlier from the cabinet and smiled wide. “You remember what you were saying to me just now?”
Ryan looked off for a moment, and his eyes closed. “Yeah, I remember.”
Eschala grinned. “For a guy with all kinds of secrets, you were playing it fast and loose there, don’t you think?”
He drew breath in and out with a long sigh, then spoke low and soft. “Maybe…but maybe I just don’t care anymore.” The noise of Eschala rustling through the aid kit stopped. Ryan opened his eyes to her steady gaze.
He cocked his head. “Hey, is this the same palace where you liberated that Suht dagger?”
Eschala nodded.
“When you lost your old guy…your mentor?”
She nodded again, and her own anguish was penned back by something radiating off Ryan.
He squinted and looked to the side. Images of the old man lying unconscious on the ball field flashed through Ryan’s mind. He struggled to measure even breaths, but they deepened and chopped like battering whitecaps on a stormy sea. Ryan panted as his head swung and seared with pain.
Beyond what she could see and hear, Khattara Eschala could feel his anguish. She remained a presence and softly asked again, “What’s up?”
“I don’t know why I’m here, or what I’m supposed to do. And…and I’ve just had an event.” His head twitched, and he took a deep breath. “I’m trying to stay calm in a desperate moment. In that last engagement I lost something…someone dear to me...my…my old man.” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I should not be talking about this.” His eyes opened and connected with hers. “Why do I trust you?” He winced and cocked his head. “My old man stepped in front of pure evil to protect me, and now…now I don’t know. Another kalpeth took to his aid and spirited him away. I don’t know where either of them are. I don’t know their status…and…I’m beside myself with concern.” Ryan’s hand grasped the edge of the counter, and his breathing was ragged. “Maybe I could have another full dose of that pain stuff again?”
“Nawh, sorry. Cuttin’ you off for now.” Eschala nodded and gazed at him with a pained look. “These kalpeth, were they members of the fleet?”
Ryan shook his head. His hand rose over his chest, and he panted for a moment. “You deserve to…but I can’t.” His head shook for a moment, and she noted the edginess in his voice. Looking down, Ryan spoke quietly toward the floor. “The one I speak of, he’s the reason I can do things…special things. His presence has grounded me for so long that I feel splintered in the quiet alone. The void is deafening.” He continued to look off to the side.
The revelations created additional questions for Khattara Eschala, and she knew in his present condition, she could press him. She had a mission, and this was the opportune moment. She’d hunted across light-years for answers, and the truth she tracked was very close. Eschala listened to the unevenness in his breath and gazed upon him. His left hand had a tight grasp on the counter edge. She reached toward it and stopped halfway. Her mind recalled the moments in the park after the altercation in her classroom. She smiled, reached out, and placed her hand over his. Without looking, Ryan released the edge, turned his palm facing hers, and grasped it. He swallowed, nodded, and panted.
She spoke in a low and velvety tone. “You know…the elders that taught us live on through us. When we’re faithful to their lessons, that in and of itself keeps them alive. Remembering their words keeps us strong. As such, they never leave us, and their voices ring on in our words as we pass the knowledge down. You’re stronger than you know. What words would he give you in this moment? I should think that’s the best method to fill this void. Focus. What would your kalpeth counsel in this moment?”
Ryan smiled. “He only spoke once, a single word at the last.”
Eschala’s brow furrowed.
Ryan smiled and looked to her. “Our communication was complicated.”
She glanced down at the deep gash on his forearm, and her jaw tightened. With her free hand palm up, she motioned with her fingers for him to come toward her. “Up, come on, sit tall, and ease out of that suit top. Let’s take a look at that arm of yours.” Her other hand squeezed his before releasing it. She redirected her attention to the medical kit.
He saw her grasp another small cylinder with a hypodermic needle, and she rolled out a kit of tools. Ryan raised his eyebrow. “What’re you gonna do with all that?”
She smiled as she washed her hands with a disinfectant towel. “I don’t know; maybe it’s a secret. You seem to be good with those. Think I can trust you with the information?” She looked at him for a moment. “The syringe has an agent that will deaden the surface pain, and I’ll use the other tools to stitch that up.” She motioned to the gash on Ryan’s forearm.
“Oh, I should be OK. No need to…” He wiggled to the side and tried to maneuver around her.
Eschala took a lateral step in her heels and formal gown, blocking his escape. “Really? You rescue little Paavi girls from Daerk, but you’re afraid of a stitching needle?” Her head cocked, and she stared into his eyes. “Or is it me you’re afraid of?”
Ryan stopped trying to move around her and exhaled. He slipped his left arm out and winced as he carefully drew his right arm through the remaining hole.
She spoke again in the same velvet tone. “I deployed to Eitchu on a mission to investigate you. I spoke to Mehvis and met Sentiel.”
Ryan nodded. “I know.”
She held her gaze into his eyes. “Do the Daerk direct your actions?”
Ryan huffed. “No. Not anymore than the rest of us.”
“Do you have business arrangements or some kind of relationship with them?”
Ryan thought for a moment. “Not exactly.”
She shook her head. “That’s not good enough. I need to understand that you aren’t in league with them.”
“I oppose the Daerk with every fiber of my being. They killed my family. Whatever gave you the idea that I’m working on their behalf?”
Now it was Eschala who looked away.
Ryan cocked his head. “Eschala? This is a two-way street.”
“Do you speak their language? Do you speak Daerk?”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah, I do. I can speak Daerk.”
Her lips pursed, and she nodded a half dozen times. “You should know, the first time I heard their strange clicking was the night my father was murdered. They killed him, and then they took me. Why would you speak that language?”
Ryan thought for a moment and held her gaze. “It’s not what you think, but it’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
“They’ve killed so many.” He swallowed, and his head shook slowly.
“Like your sister…the bride? I read about her in a file on Eitchu.”
He nodded and smiled. “Littlest Sister’s name was Leishu. She was high speed, full contact…quite a pistol. She was a joy, and I loved her so.” Ryan’s smile faded as he continued. “They killed my beautiful kid sister and oldest brother, mother and father.”
“Then why learn to speak their language?”
Ryan swallowed and spoke in a low, even tone. “I studied it so I could kill every last one of ‘em.”
“That doesn’t sound all that complicated.”
Ryan smiled. “It wasn’t complicated in the beginning. We all know our starting point, and we think we know where we’re going.” He huffed and continued. “Dvarah looks upon us as we journey, and through Her wisdom, we eventually discover that our original destination was just a mirage.”
“Well, that clears it up.”
“Doesn’t it?”
Eschala shook her head. “Perhaps you’ve noticed our cultural expressions; sometimes we speak in what we call revectives. That means we say the opposite of what we intend for dramatic impact. In this case, your comment was the opposite of clear.”
Ryan grinned wide. “Yeah. It warms my heart that you do that.”
Eschala cocked her head. “Why were you on the grand marshal’s cruiser?”
Ryan held eye contact as his head tipped down. Eschala heard him speak in the clicks and hums of the Daerk. “What I just spoke is a word they use to mean high-up. The translation is hard because it can describe a few different things related to social status.”
Eschala shook her head. “What does that—”
“I’m gettin’ there.”
“Ryan, I swear if you say Goddess or Dvarah one more time...”
Ryan held his hands out and patted the air. A moment earlier she had removed the cloth strap compressing the wound on his right forearm, and the patting movement caused the gash to open up. “Oh, I, uh…geez…” Blood was now spurting out, and Ryan put his other palm over the wound.
Eschala quickly pawed in the kit for gauze. “Get more pressure on it. Hold on. I’ve got something here.” She handed him a ball of white dressing, and her eyes caught on his uninjured left arm.
Ryan’s torso was twisted so that his free hand could apply pressure to his upper right forearm. The flexing caused the left sleeve of his white t-shirt to rise up, and Eschala’s eyes caught on tattooed lettering peeking out from high up on his left arm.
Her eyes doubled in size, and she became aware of the gown fabric rubbing against her own shoulder marking. Eschala’s fingertips reached out, and she put her nail under the edge of his sleeve. Gently, she pushed the fabric higher. She saw several small printed lines, and each line was made up of eight symbols. She swallowed and pushed the fabric higher with her nail, revealing a design. She first saw the dot on the left that was the starting point for a line that spiraled up and out counterclockwise. She followed its arc around, under the dot, and upward out to the right. Pushing the fabric higher revealed the design was an eye, and it looked tribal in origin. She noted a vertical line descending below the inner corner and a triangular key shape portrayed below. The pupil of the eye was solid, and a curved line above represented a thin eyebrow. At this point in her inspection, Eschala had both hands wrapped around Ryan’s upper left arm.
Surveying beyond the marking, it dawned on her that his upper arm was very muscular. It was thick enough that she couldn’t wrap both hands all the way around it. This was not at all what she imagined a Paavi arm would be like buried under a robe. The more she looked at it, the more she appreciated it. One of her eyebrows rose as her thumbs traveled over distinct ridges of muscle.
Ryan’s voice interrupted her inspection. “Excuse me? Can I help you?”
Eschala released Ryan’s arm and jumped back a half step.
Ryan watched her wobble back on heels before he spoke again. “Little help here…bleedin’…remember? You with me?”
Eschala mumbled, “Yeah, sorry…sorry. Let’s get that other arm stitched up.” She glanced once more back up to his exposed shoulder.
“Eschala, it’s OK if you don’t…You don’t have to. I could get—”
“No. I gotcha.” She glanced up again before directing her focus down on the wound.
The room fell quiet for several minutes as she worked on stitching him up. Ryan continued to look at her eyes as she concentrated her attention on his forearm.
Khattara’s mind was spinning. Every interaction provided more information and additional perceptions that served to perpetuate an escalating duality in her threat assessment. She glanced up to his eyes and immediately thought it a mistake. His gaze held an unnatural calming effect, and she didn’t appreciate the way it dimmed her edge.
“Hey, you alright?”
She ignored his comment for a moment and drew the needle through another stitch. “Yeah, everything’s going well here.” She huffed. “At least I’m no longer down in the viper pit.” Her eyes glanced up to his cocked head, and she continued. “On the floor below us, a formal gathering of Centauri royalty is well underway.” She shook her head. “For all I can say about the Daerk, at least those animals don’t throw each other over the fire.” She glanced up and again saw Ryan’s confusion. “Centauri expression. It describes how those without honor would throw others on a fire as fuel to keep warm.” She shook her head again. “Remember I told you how I was taken to Shorcanton and abandoned?”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, a few years after I returned, I discovered an anonymous chat thread utilized by aristocrats. There were exchanges between individuals that spoke about my presence on Shorcanton. The problem was the date stamp on those conversations.”
She glanced up, and Ryan saw a tightening of her upper lip. Her eyes were ablaze, and he sensed the shadow of something awful rising to the surface.
She looked down and continued. “They were talking about my occupation of Shorcanton while I was still there. You see, there were some number of Centauri socialites that knew I was there and did nothing. Ryan, there’s a reasonable chance I shared a room this very night with some number of them.”
She realized she was panting and stopped working on Ryan’s arm. His hand gently grasped her upper shoulder. The tattoo on Eschala’s upper arm itched under his palm, and she resisted the urge to scratch at the scar.
“Eschala, that’s awful. I’m so sorry. No child deserves that. Certainly, you didn’t.”
She glanced to his eyes, and he nodded at her. The conversation had so distracted her that she was nearly done working on him when she remembered he had been in the middle of explaining his presence on the grand marshal’s cruiser.
