Shades of gray, p.73
Shades of Gray, page 73
“I remember it had something to do with Vartra,” he said at last.
Kaid growled. “What’s He up to now?”
“No, not like that,” said Kusac, shaking his head. “It was something about Him, not something He did.”
“Are you all right now?” Kaid asked.
He nodded, reaching out again for the water. “I’m fine.”
“If you’re up for it, we’re having a planning session now, working out the best way to approach this. What we really need is some good intel, which means sending a team into the city.”
“What do we need to know?” he asked.
“How we can move among them without causing suspicion, for a start,” said Kaid. “If there are any civilians at all, we can pose as them; we’d be a lot safer. The military need to report into their units, be assigned quarters, things that would expose us too easily to pose as ordinary soldiers. Plus, we have no uniforms. We need disguises as well.”
“Rezac and I can find that out for you.”
“I want people out there actually seeing what it’s like, Kusac. Mentally knowing is one thing, experiencing it first-hand is another. We’re about ten miles from the city limits here, and about another ten from the center and the Palace. We also need at least one vehicle, not stolen if possible. We don’t even know if they own any personal property or if it is all military owned.”
“Point taken,” said Kusac, getting up. “However, let Rezac and me see what we can find out before we send a team in there. It’s a long way to walk.”
“Agreed,” said Kaid, backing out of the tent.
Kusac reached out to touch Carrie’s face, then handed her back the cloth. “I’m fine, really,” he said, smiling.
“Hm,” she said, obviously not convinced. “Remember what happened on Kij’ik, and don’t try to keep everything to yourself. We’re a team, remember?”
“How could I forget? I won’t keep things to myself, you have my word on that.”
Ghioass
In the room that housed Unity’s main physical interface, one restricted to the Elders, Khassis sat down abruptly on the cushion behind her as the Hunter disappeared.
“What have we created?” she asked, hands fluttering. “He escaped the force field as easily as if it were made of gossamer!”
“He did more,” said Annuur, also sitting down. “He left us! Returned to his body before we were finished with him! Now the Isolationists’ folly is exposed, to Unity and us. Alienated him they have with their personal agendas and machinations.”
“If we release this transcript,” said Khassis, shuddering. “His reckoning could destroy us all.”
Annuur made a negative sound. “Mindless, he is not. Reasoning brought him this far. It will bring truth to him also.”
“Nanites must be delivered to matter transformer now,” said Khassis. “Takes time to manufacture and program those we need from control ones he carries. Naacha did alter the first ones, did he not? That Giyarishis put there?”
He bobbed his head in assent. “Matter transformer destruct when enough constructed to replicate on own. While it follows our program, will not accept Sand-dweller commands. Is safe from moment Hunter programs it by releasing his nanites.”
“You will take him?” she asked.
“Must. He needs to trust us at least, or all are at risk here. Lweeu breeding—infants we have soon,” he added with obvious pride. “More reasons to risk aiding him.”
Khassis put her head on one side, eyes swirling. “You have sired young?”
Annuur’s snout wrinkled in a grin. “This enforced break good time for family matters. All sept wished it. You first to know.”
She inclined her head. “Offspring always a blessing,” she said. “Honored to be first told.”
Annuur spread his spatulate hoofed hands. “Early days yet.”
“How will you help the Hunter?” she asked, returning to the business at hand.
“Has been here now. Unity can lock onto him again, take me there. He has been to cavern. With translocator, I send him. He return same way.”
“None of your kind there. You draw attention to yourself and Hunter,” she objected.
“I go to their cave only. Talk to him, give translocator.”
“May attack you again.”
“Not going there physically. Hunter does not scare me,” he said. “I have some four hours to wait before their night. I go then, when he sleeps.”
M’zull, late evening
It had been decided that Cheelar and M’yikku would leave that night for the city and do some basic intel gathering. Also on their agenda was getting hold of some uniforms they could use, and possibly transport. A route had been plotted for them, and basic maps drawn that would bring them out into the open only a mile from the outer limits of the city, near some farmhouses. The snowline extended only for a few miles in that direction, then became a kind of tundra through which they could travel more rapidly. They’d soon reach the more temperate chaparral zone and could remove their winter clothing.
They would be wearing civilian clothes, passing as farmers or land workers. They’d carry their communicators and call in every four hours. If it looked as though they were going to be apprehended, they’d set off a signal concealed in a small homing device in their boots and destroy the comms.
Both carried small packs into which they would put their winter gear to make it easier to conceal. For currency, they’d have a handful of the coins they’d found on the soldiers on Ch’almuth.
Everyone turned in early to conserve the power. The guard on duty would wake Cheelar and M’yikku several hours before dawn.
Still in his Valtegan form, curled around Carrie, Kusac had fallen asleep almost at once. He’d only been sleeping for a couple of hours when he woke suddenly. He lay there for a while, staring at the inside of the tent; then, unable to quiet the restlessness that filled him, he slipped out of their sleeping bags and pulled on his clothes, remembering to shove his pistol into its holster on his belt. Picking up his jacket at the entrance, he crawled out into the cave and made his way over to the central area.
They’d left a few low-level emergency lights on, so he was able to see the jug of maush sitting by the stove. It was icy cold, but he poured himself a cup anyway. Checking his wrist comm, he saw it was still another two hours before Cheelar and M’yikku were due to leave. Deciding to see who was on sentry duty, he’d strolled through the force field into the smaller chamber when he heard the noise.
He stopped dead, cursing inwardly at the poor eyesight he had in his Valtegan body, and slowly pulling out his pistol, he waited. The noise came again, off to his right. Silently, he turned around to face it.
I said I come to you, said Annuur’s voice in his mind. Just as he realized he could smell no scent, the Cabbaran came trotting quietly toward him.
“You again!”
“That you, Captain?” Noolgoi called out from the cave entrance.
Annuur reared up on his haunches, gesturing for silence.
“Yes,” said Kusac, gun trained on the Cabbaran. “Couldn’t sleep. Nothing to worry about.”
“Aye, sir.”
How the hell did you get here? he demanded.
Not important, sent Annuur. No need for gun. I come to send you to cavern.
Why is that cavern so damned important? You’re not manipulating me any more, Annuur! I know what you’ve been doing to Kezule and me!
Can’t talk here. Later, sent the Cabbaran, slowly coming closer.
Stay right where you are, warned Kusac.
What, you shoot me? When I never offered you any violence, only tried to help?
You tried to stop me from saving Zsurtul!
Not me. Others.
A sense of déjà vu swept over him, and he began to remember the confrontation of a few hours earlier. We’ve had this conversation before, he said as Annuur took advantage of his distraction to move closer again.
Yes. You want war with M’zull? Then leave and go back to bed, the Cabbaran sent disdainfully. You want to stop war then you go to cavern.
Kusac stared at him, letting the barrel of his gun drop. You’re not here, are you? You’re a dream.
Not dream, I am here, but in mind and spirit only.
I remember now. You pulled me to your world, but I left it of my own free will.
Stronger than we anticipated, are you, agreed Annuur. Enough talk. Time to go to cavern.
Holstering his gun, Kusac turned away, still keeping an eye on him, and took a drink of the cold maush. Forget it, I’m going nowhere for you or your stick-insect friends!
With an exasperated sound, Annuur knocked the cup from his hand and grasped him by the wrist, forcing a small object into his hand. You will go, Hunter!
His mind reeled, filling with Annuur’s imperative. He knew he had to go to the cavern, and he knew what he had to do when he got there. Then suddenly, space wrenched and distorted, bending around him, sucking him into blackness.
The Couana
Zhalmo had slept off and on for most of the day, and now she was awake and filled with a restlessness she couldn’t explain. Shadows of what could be nightmares seemed to pursue her, and she needed to be alone. Awake or asleep, since she’d boarded the Couana, Na’qui or her sisters had been at her side.
Grabbing her uniform, she padded silently to the small internal bathroom and shut the door. Putting the light on, she examined her body to find out why there were so many tender spots on it. Here and there she could see what looked like thin scars, and on her arms were a few patches of yellow, tender skin—bruises not quite healed. There were more of the scars around her wrists. Where had they come from? She knew they hadn’t been there before. Were they marks from being bound when she was a prisoner? She couldn’t remember. Finally she gave up trying to figure it out and got dressed.
Slipping quietly out of the bathroom on bare feet, she padded to the door, opening it only enough to let her leave the room. In the corridor, she made her way to the rec room, sure there would be no one there at this late hour.
She stopped dead in the doorway and tried to back away without disturbing Zsurtul.
The young King looked up instantly and half rose from the sofa on which he was sitting.
“Don’t go on my account,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep either.”
She hesitated.
“Please, join me,” he said, gesturing. “I don’t like sitting here alone. Besides, I’m losing this game of cards.”
“How can you be losing when you’re playing against yourself?” she asked, intrigued, as she stepped into the room and walked over to see what he was doing.
“It’s a game called Patience. You play against yourself and try to match runs of cards,” he said, gesturing at the cards lying on the low table. “Carrie taught me.”
She sat down. “You’ll have to explain it to me sometime. I can’t really keep my mind on anything for long right now.”
He nodded and sat down beside her. “I understand. You’ve been through an awful experience; you need time to relax and get over it.”
“That’s just it,” she said hesitantly. “I can’t remember much about it. It’s like there’re holes in my memory.”
She saw understanding dawn in Zsurtul’s eyes before he quickly looked away.
“I was going to make some maush to help me sleep. Would you like some?” he asked.
“Do you know something about this?” she asked sharply.
“No,” he said, looking back at her. “I honestly don’t know anything about any missing memories. Perhaps they’ll come back to you in time.”
“I have marks on me, scars,” she said, pulling back her sleeve and showing him her wrist. “What caused these?” she demanded.
He took her wrist in his hand, looking at it, then her. “I don’t know,” he said gently. “I only know you were taken prisoner, Zhalmo. K’hedduk was known for his brutality when he was on K’oish’ik, so it’s not surprising you have injuries.” He raised her wrist and pressed it gently to his lips, never taking his eyes from her face. “I think it’s a blessing your mind has chosen to forget what happened to you there,” he said, returning her arm to her lap but letting his fingers slip down to her hand to hold it. “Do you remember anything from before your capture?”
Her eyes took on a faraway look for a moment. “Yes. I remember seeing you get shot,” she said, taking her hand away from his and reaching out to touch his chest, feeling the bandage still there.
A look of horror crossed her face, and she began to pull at his shirt, ripping it open till she saw for herself how small the dressing was. Not content, she pushed him this way and that, examining his side, seeing the pale new skin above and below the bandage.
“I saw him shoot you in the side, saw your suit damaged, the foam sealant covering the part of your suit that his shot blew away. You should be dead!” She was trembling all over, her face almost chalk white.
Amused at her till now, Zsurtul turned serious again and grasped hold of her hands, holding them still. “I’m all right, Zhalmo. Kusac saved me,” he said. “Without him, I would have died.”
“I thought you were dead!” she said, tears running down her face. “That there was nothing left for me to live for!”
“Zhalmo …” He pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “When I heard you’d been captured, I thought there was nothing to live for either,” he whispered, covering her cheek with small kisses as her hands clutched at his sides frantically. “But I had to go on for the sake of my people. Then Kusac said he’d go to M’zull and bring you back … I had to come, had to see you as soon as you were recovered.”
“You’re here because of me?” she asked, raising her face to his.
“Why else would I be here?” He stroked her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “Now I have you back, I swear I won’t let you out of my sight again.”
“I don’t think I’ll be fit to be your bodyguard for a while yet,” she said uncertainly.
“I had hoped you’d play a different role in my life.”
A look of confusion came over her face.
“I began to fall in love with you as a soldier,” he said, “but the female you are right now is even more lovely. I love you, Zhalmo, and I want to marry you.”
She looked down at his chest, her fingers tracing what showed of his Royal tattoo above the bandage circling his ribs. “But you’re King now.”
“Not right now. Right at this moment I’m just the male who loves you and who thought he’d lost you forever,” he said, tilting her face up to his and gently kissing her.
She hesitated then responded, her hands slipping under his shirt to caress him.
After a few minutes, he gently pushed her back. “You should go back to bed and rest, Zhalmo,” he said, his voice not quite steady. “I love you, and I don’t want this to go further tonight when you’re still not well.”
“I don’t want to sleep alone,” she whispered, laying her head on his chest. “There are things I don’t understand haunting my sleep.”
“You need to rest and get well,” he said, stroking her head.
“Then I’ll sleep with you. You’ll keep me safe from the shadows,” she said, turning her head and kissing his skin just above the bandage.
He shuddered with pleasure. “You don’t know how much I want that, but it’s too soon for you. I need you to be sure it’s what you want.”
“If I promise to sleep?” she asked, her tongue flicking across him. “I don’t want to sleep alone, Zsurtul. Please.”
“Better there than here,” he murmured, reaching down to pull her face up to kiss her again. “Only sleep, nothing else,” he said.
She slid back to her place on the sofa, letting him get up and try to tuck his shirt back into his trousers. He gave up on buttoning it again and reached out to help her to her feet.
His room was next to the mess, and though it boasted a double bed like her room, it had no private shower and bathroom. The bedside lamp cast a gentle glow on the room as he pulled back the bedding for her.
“I’ll sleep in the chair,” he said, turning back to her. “You have the bed.”
She shook her head, staying near the door. “I don’t want to sleep alone. I want to be with you.”
“Zhalmo …”
“Please. I need you,” she said, folding her arms across her body and beginning to shiver. “I’m afraid to sleep alone.”
He was at her side in an instant, drawing her over to the bed. “You’ll be the undoing of me, you know,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly until her shivering stopped. When it did, he let her go.
“You first,” he said, gesturing to the bed.
She reached out and tugged at his shirt. “Take it off,” she said. “I need to feel you, not your clothes.”
He groaned inwardly. This was more than male flesh could stand, but he began to shrug himself out of his shirt, wincing as he pulled his almost healed wound. She helped him, and, somehow, it was just natural for him to help her take off her shirt and pants. He did it slowly, with kisses, drinking in the sight of her for the first time.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands barely touching her shoulders as she pressed herself against him and then slipped into the bed.
Reaching for the light, he turned it off before shedding his own pants, aware she’d find out soon enough just how much he wanted her. He slid in beside her, pulling the covers over them, waiting for her to move closer. She curled up against his side, one leg going across him as he slipped an arm under her neck and drew her close. Cushioning her head just below his shoulder, she tucked her arm across his chest and sighed contentedly.
“You haven’t said you’ll marry me,” he said, trying to keep his tone light as his tongue flicked over her ear. He wanted her so much it hurt, but he wanted even more not to scare her, to bring back the awful memories that he knew Kusac had taken from her.
“I love you, Zsurtul,” she whispered. “We belong together. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“I’m glad, because I told your father I would marry you.”
“You did? What did he say?” she asked, astonished.
