Secret war, p.7
Secret War, page 7
“We saw them while I was still on the crew,” Selt pointed out. “The big being we took to be a ship, and the little ones it dropped.”
“Yeah, there’s a theory they can alter the degree of phasing to better escape detection. We also suspect they’re from whatever dimension we sneak into when we’re phased.” Hadlez regarded his bottle, the line between his brows deepening. “Too much conjecture, too few facts. I hate that.”
“Spine-tingling, right?” Deram located the bohut Selt had purchased the day before and handed him a bottle. “Your turn.”
They moved toward the lounger. Normally, Deram and Hadlez would share the wide expanse of the couch and Selt would have taken a nearby floor cushion. Or he would have stood. Nobeks weren’t great about sitting if they didn’t have to.
He sat between his clanmates, eager to keep close after months apart. “A couple of explosions, a few interrogations, a lot of watching.”
“Explosions?”
He told them of the crude, almost laughable attempts on the Earth governor’s life and the space station. “I admit, if anyone had been near the devices, they would have been badly hurt or killed, but the deliveries were so obvious. Even an Asicarian wouldn’t have gone near them. Nobek Kuran…he’s in charge of the group working on Earth…caught the perpetrators easily.”
“You interrogated them?” Hadlez leaned toward him, interest brightening his gaze.
“Yeah, then we rearranged their thinking a bit and sent them home to Mercy Colony.”
“Ah, memory and viewpoint modification. I trained in those disciplines when I was assigned to the spy division. I always wondered if I’d get a chance to use those.” If reworking opponents’ psychological outlooks gave the Imdiko a moment’s pause, he failed to show it.
“Business will probably pick up thanks to Earth’s upcoming elections,” Deram mused.
“Which is why Piras is in a lather to increase our numbers. For now, I’m mostly following a reporter who has important contacts in the government.”
“Not the woman you dragged to the stationmaster for recording vid on the private level?”
“The same. Blythe Nelson.”
Selt was certain he’d kept his tone casual, but a corner of his Dramok’s mouth lifted in a knowing grin. “Ah, interesting assignment.”
He shrugged, but Hadlez snickered. “What it lacks in excitement, is made up by the view?”
Selt scowled, then laughed. “She is easy on the eyes. A lot of tough in a small package.”
“Tell us more,” Deram invited. “Any chance she’d be interested in dating a Kalquorian clan?”
* * * *
Kalquor
“My son.”
Ilid stood as his parents entered his room at the psychiatric facility. Nobek Gruthep, a hulk sporting a roadmap of scars over most of what flesh his trousers and tank top exposed, led the rest. It was he who grabbed Ilid by the upper arms, stared in his face for an instant, then yanked him close for an embrace.
“I’m so proud of you, Ilid. So very, very proud.”
The young Dramok managed to hold tears at bay, which he was certain would have erased Gruthep’s esteem. Then again, he’d done little to be proud of. Why not show his father the truth of it?
I’m afraid of everything, of falling apart. Whatever strength I had, I left on the spyship.
Nonetheless, he soaked in Gruthep’s hug and regard for as long as it lasted. It was quickly broken up by his weeping mother.
“Ilid, my heart, are you well? Are they treating you okay here? You’re so thin! Is the food terrible? I made a cake, and we brought it…oh, how stupid. After what you went through, I’m talking about cake? My poor boy!”
She hugged him too, stroking his hair, which had grown to the middle of his back. He pressed a kiss to her rounded cheek. His mother was an incredible baker, and she had the softness to prove it. She smelled of sweet and bread, of his childhood when all was safe.
“I’m fine, but cake would be amazing. Seeing you is amazing. I didn’t think I’d…I was sure I wouldn’t…”
The horror hit him, the disbelief he’d live to see his parents following the events on the spyship orbiting Bi’is. Even after being rescued, after setting foot on Kalquor, Ilid had harbored the a secret certainty they were gone from his life forever.
Now they gathered to surround him: Gruthep, Matara Diju, Dramok Codab, and Imdiko Jadel. His family, whom he’d believed in his heart of hearts to be lost to him forever.
A tremendous ache clenched his stomach, so powerful he slid from his mother’s grasp. Doubled over, he dropped. Caught by Gruthep and Codab, he sank to the floor as violent sobs wracked him from head to toe.
“Ilid!” His mother cried with him, but she didn’t tell him to stop. None of them did. Diju and Jadel kissed his tear-streaked cheeks, and Gruthep and Codab rubbed his back and shoulders as terror and grief poured from their bottomless well.
He hitched a litany of apologies for showing his true colors as trauma had its way. “Scared…not brave…forgive me…nightmares…so sorry…sorry…”
“Easy,” Codab whispered in his ear. “Breathe, my son. We’re here. Breathe.”
“Like this.” Gruthep pressed Ilid’s palm to his chest, which rose and fell, slow and steady. “Breathe with me.”
Jadel held Ilid’s other hand to his chest too, matching Gruthep’s rhythm. Ilid struggled, but bit by bit, he fell into the tempo they established. The storm eased gradually, until his stomach loosened from its knot and the flood of tears ebbed to trickles.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Codab said. “The psychiatrist in charge of your case told us you’d been tortured, that you were lucky to survive what happened out there.”
“We’re grateful you’re home and ready to help you recover, no matter how long it takes,” Jadel added.
“No matter how long,” Diju echoed, her tone firm despite the grief etched on her dear face.
He was afraid to, but he lifted his gaze to Gruthep. The Nobek, his nose crooked in two places from past battles, met his eyes.
“Do you believe I think you less heroic for having been wounded in mind as well as body, my son?” he asked.
“I’m no hero. Look at me. I see shadows everywhere, I cry like a baby for no good reason—”
“You cry like a warrior who’s lived through the worst. A part of you still lives there, which breaks my heart. But it doesn’t reduce you in my view.”
“How can it not? A Dramok is supposed to be calm and strong no matter what, ready to lead.”
Codab stroked his hair. “A Dramok embodies the characteristics of a born leader, it’s true, but in the end, he’s still a man. Just as a Nobek, for all his bravery, is a man. When we encounter severe trials, the best of us can falter.”
“My son, what you confronted we can’t know, because it’s been designated top secret by the fleet. But it’s obvious what happened to you, most Dramoks and Nobeks haven’t had to contend with.” Gruthep held his gaze. “All we’ve been told was your ship was destroyed and the rest of the crew perished on board. You not only survived, but you sent a warning, which I was able to pass on to the fleet.”
“That was then. Since I was rescued, I’ve been a child, jumping at every little sound.” Ilid wanted to look away, but Gruthep’s eyes had somehow trapped his.
“Don’t you wonder how we knew to tell you to breathe? How we were able to show you?” Gruthep asked, his gaze steady.
“Someone else has suffered in this family. Someone who survived incredible trauma,” Jadel said.
Ilid stared at his Nobek father. “Not you?”
It wasn’t possible. Gruthep was strength incarnate. Had it been him to face the Darks and return home, he would have cursed them or laughed at their puny attempts to stop him. He wouldn’t be on the floor, forcing his parents to hold him together.
Nonetheless, his imposing parent offered a grim smile. “When I was young and in the military, long before you were born, the ship I served on was disabled and boarded by Tragooms. We were outnumbered, and those they didn’t kill in the battle, they put in stasis fields. They ate my crewmates, one by one, while they were still alive. I could do nothing but wait, frozen and helpless, for my turn. Only the arrival of a destroyer saved me and a dozen others from my vessel.”
“It was years before the nightmares ended for him.” Diju swiped at tears as she gazed in pride at Gruthep. “Sometimes, to this day, they return.”
“As they did when I knew you were in trouble, but I couldn’t go to you.” A muscle twitched in Gruthep’s jaw. “It was me being coached to breathe by my clanmates, to push the horror aside.”
Ilid was in shock, both at what his father had endured as a younger man and that he continued to have moments when the past rose to remind him. “But you’re so strong. Invincible.”
Gruthep laughed and hugged him. “My son, I’m honored and embarrassed you regard me as such. Every father wants to be a hero to his child, but it isn’t serving you if you think of yourself as less.” He regarded Ilid seriously again. “There is no shame in being hurt, no disgrace in tears from your pain, no dishonor in near-death haunting you. There is only summoning the will to go on as best you can for the sakes of those who love you.”
Nobeks never spoke of love for other men, including their sons. Gruthep doing so meant he was either too little a warrior to protect Ilid…or he indeed loved him too much to avoid saying so.
Or perhaps he declared it because he felt it was the only weapon he held against the terror ripping Ilid apart.
Chapter Six
Hobato isn’t as he seems.
Tranis frowned at the text message, which had been delivered to his private com. He checked the frequency of the sender, but there was no contact information. It wasn’t even blocked…the message simply shimmered on the holographic vid view, showing no signature of origin. Tranis wouldn’t be able to reply to ask who’d sent it, because there was no contact to respond to.
He read the full message for the third time, trying to wrap his head around it:
Hobato isn’t as he seems. Haven’t you noticed a difference? Aren’t you concerned the head of the Kalquorian fleet is no longer himself? You should be.
Tranis’ heart hammered. The questions he’d avoided considering lately about the rear admiral’s resistance to sending spies to check on the heads of the Galactic Council, to send a forensics team to thoroughly investigate the extermination of Bi’is, to run tests on those working on the space station orbiting Earth II…they erupted in his head with a vengeance.
He clicked his personal com to contact Lidon, using his clanmate’s private frequency as well. “My Dramok?” the deep voice replied, no doubt discerning the use of private units meant they weren’t conversing as admiral and agent.
“Do you have a moment to stop in?”
“On my way now.”
Lidon hadn’t been given a spy assignment since guarding Piras. Many agents were sitting idle these days despite an earlier push to hire more.
Before Hobato started acting strangely. Tranis read the anonymous message again and licked suddenly dry lips. The only division actively using their new hires was Piras’ group on Earth II.
Lidon stepped in, his brow lifted in silent question. Tranis turned on his sound-canceling device and ordered the door locked. Lidon’s other brow rose.
“Look at this.” Tranis showed him the message.
Lidon did so. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you run it through the frequency tracker?”
“I thought it better not to share it on the fleet’s systems. If this was flagged, as the sender obviously didn’t want it to be—”
“Why else would he or she have sent it to your private com?” Lidon nodded. “Any idea who it might be from?”
“None.”
“I have my own means, not connected to the fleet. Maybe I can figure out who dispatched the warning.”
“I thought you might. It’s obviously someone who’s noticed Hobato hasn’t been acting like himself.”
“They didn’t just notice. This warning means they believe or know he’s compromised in some fashion. The question is, why has he changed?”
Tranis gazed at him levelly, as if bile wasn’t rising in his throat. “What if the weird spell I experienced on the station was a Dark rider? What if when it released me, it grabbed Hobato?”
Lidon stared at him for several seconds. “We know one means of finding out.”
* * * *
Tranis smiled at Admiral Hobato as casually as he could manage. “Dr. Degorsk says Ensign Ilid’s visit with his parents was a tremendous boost to his confidence. He says perhaps the more self-assured the young man becomes, the better the chances of him better remembering what happened on the spyship.”
Did he imagine Hobato looked uncomfortable? The rear admiral shifted in his seat. “Has he recovered further information?”
“Not thus far, but we’re hopeful. It made me think if you were to stop by, say hello to Ilid, tell him how impressed you are at how he escaped, he might respond well.”
The Hobato Tranis knew would have already done so. His superior was invested heart and soul in the fleet, and he was as likely to join the lowest crewmembers in their dining halls when visiting a ship as fellow officers at a formal function.
This Hobato had yet to look in on Ilid.
The rear admiral studied his handheld, as if it were the most fascinating object in creation. “My schedule is quite packed. If I get the chance, I’ll certainly drop by the clinic and say hello. I’m glad seeing his parents helped him feel better. How are the tests proceeding?”
Tranis kept his tone warm, normal, to hide the ice filling his heart. “The scientists say it won’t take long to finish the brain scans. The psychiatrist in charge of his case is hopeful Ilid can go home to his parent clan once it’s done. He’ll require continued therapy, but he should be fine to do so on an outpatient basis.”
“Excellent. I trust you have the matter of the young man well in hand. Keep me informed.”
Tranis left the office under Hobato’s pleased smile…and empty eyes. He didn’t possess Ilid’s ability to see Darks, but he was certain he felt a malevolent presence hanging over the man he regarded as a mentor.
* * * *
“He totally blew off visiting the ensign. That alone tells me something’s wrong.” Tranis paced the clan’s common room.
Cassidy was staying late at the lab. For once, Degorsk wasn’t carping about it. He’d been eager to hear the latest, especially as it related to his patient.
“It would have meant a lot to Ilid,” he said from his perch on the overstuffed lounger on the opposite side of the unlit firepit. “As a young Dramok, Ilid has the idea he should be handling the trauma better than he is. His parents calmed some of his concerns, but he’s struggling.”
“I’ll talk to Ilid again, if you believe it’ll help,” Tranis offered. “I realize it would be more meaningful coming from Hobato, but…” he spread his hands helplessly.
“You’re an admiral and a Dramok. It’ll mean plenty to him.” Degorsk smiled in gratitude.
“We can’t force Hobato to visit him. It’ll look odd for us to bring Ilid to the rear admiral.” Lidon stood next to the lounger, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared into space. “We have to consider different means of discovering if Hobato is indeed being influenced by a Dark.”
“What do you have in mind?” Tranis asked. He didn’t add he was ready to act on any idea, no matter how ludicrous. Fortunately, Lidon wasn’t on friendly terms with ludicrous notions.
His suggestion still made Tranis pause. “We need Piras. Here, on Kalquor.”
Degorsk whistled in disbelief.
Tranis eyed Lidon. He liked to think he was over the jealousy of Piras being Lidon’s former promised Dramok. After all, Tranis had sent his clanmate to guard Piras while Kila was off discovering Bi’is had become a planet of the dead. Nonetheless, familiar tension filled him to hear Lidon suggest he be brought in.
“What can Piras do we’re incapable of in this matter? I could as easily send you chasing Hobato around.”
“As an operative based on Kalquor, I’d eventually be missed. Besides, it isn’t having Piras on hand to watch Hobato I’m thinking of. In fact, it isn’t Piras I want to come at all, especially given the danger he’d be in from fellow Kalquorians, should his presence be discovered. However, I doubt he’d allow his clanmates to visit without him.”
Tranis got it and wondered why he hadn’t thought of it himself. “Chief Engineer Lokmi. And perhaps Matara Hope?”
“We don’t wish to merely learn if Hobato is being ridden. If he is, and if possible, we have to trap and hold the Dark entity infecting him. It requires devising a means how to do so in two dimensions, and using some sort of containment yet to be invented.”
“Lokmi is the man who perfected the phasing devices,” Tranis told Degorsk, whose mouth kept opening, as if dying to ask a question, if he could figure out the question to be asked.
“Ah. And Matara Hope is a mechanical and engineering mastermind herself, if I remember correctly.”
“You do.” Lidon said. “It was Lokmi who suggested the Darks might be traveling between dimensions at will. Hope’s nanospy technology is being adopted by the spy division, and she’s constantly upgrading her programs…it’s as if the day after a new version is released, she discovers a way to improve it. If there was ever a pair likely to discover how to capture such a creature, it would be Piras’ clanmates.”
Tranis clutched at the thin thread of a chance his Nobek had offered. “I’ll com Piras now.”
