Firestorm (6 page)

What had Abbot Leone told him about vows? That their true worth was revealed only by a test of significant magnitude, a test most frequently fought out in the world, not in the safe, secure confines of a monastery.

Reluctantly, Teague lifted his glance from the scriptura pad and met that of Raina. She stared back, her striking green eyes gleaming with understanding—and an unexpected, most startling compassion.

"It seems," he softly said, "the decision is yours. I have no choice now but to obey." With that, he lowered his head and shoved his hands deep into his sleeves.

Did he want her to decline the king's request? Raina wondered, bemused by his sudden physical and emotional withdrawal. There was no abbot to command her. True, she still risked Falkan's anger if she refused him, but she doubted he'd put her to death because of it. And her refusal would certainly ease the monk's personal turmoil. But suddenly, she wasn't so sure she wanted that.

It wasn't a vindictive need to get back at him for his monastic arrogance. Neither was it some perverse desire to punish herself, though agreeing to join forces with Tremayne might well result in that. No, it was something else . . . something deeper and oh, so very bewildering and illogical. Something that sprang from the heart, not the head.

She shouldn't do it. Shouldn't follow where she'd never gone before, into that nebulous, uncharted realm of emotions, rather than remain on the path of clearheaded logic. But that look on his face last night . . . and the abject f§ar that had emanated from him when he'd held the scriptura pad in his hands and read the fateful words of his abbot . . .

He was trapped, forced to do what he'd no wish to do, and Raina knew now, with a surety that startled her, that he didn't shy from the mission out of cowardice or indolence. No, it was something far deeper, something ingrained in the man that drove him. Something that had happened to him long ago . . . perhaps even on Incendra.

The realization filled her with a curious sense of oneness, of empathy, of partnership with the enigmatic monk. She shouldn't let such maudlin emotions color her decision—she never had before—but for once, she did. Perhaps there was a certain twisted destiny in it all—a monk who shunned women and a woman who hated men, both Incendarian exiles, both with unresolved issues they'd thought they'd left behind that still needed resolution. And though the kindest act might well be to spare the monk the pain of her presence, her needs must ultimately prevail over his.

Raina shook the overly sentimental musings aside. The king awaited her decision. "Brother Tremayne," she softly said. He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes shimmering pits of agony. "It seems," she forced herself to continue, "that I have little other choice, either."

She turned back to Falkan then, unnerved and unwilling to face the monk's torment a moment longer. "I will go, Imperial Majesty. I'm not naive enough to imagine you can so easily or quickly find another Incendarian to replace me at any rate. The monk and I will just have to work out our differences between ourselves."

King Falkan leaned back in his throne and smiled. "Good, I was hoping you'd both see the wisdom of my decision."

"When is the proposed departure?"

"In a week," the king said. "You must have time to gather your things, learn the intricacies of piloting a Volan ship, and be briefed on the caves and the proper technique for extracting and transporting the crystal back to us." He shot his nephew—who until now had stood silently nearby—a questioning look. "Do you want to tell them about the third passenger, or should I?"

"A third passenger?" Raina glanced from one man to the other, suspicion narrowing her gaze. "There was nothing ever mentioned about a third Incendarian. If so, you have the two you need and I retract my offer—"

Teran held up a silencing hand. "A moment, femina. You misunderstand. The third passenger isn't an Incendarian; he isn't even of the humanoid species. In fact," he continued, shooting the king an amused look, "he doesn't even possess a body."

Raina graced the monk with an irritated glance. "I think we're being manipulated here, Tremayne."

"Perhaps," he agreed his monastic facade once more in place. "And perhaps not. Let us give them a chance to explain, femina."

"Fine," Raina gritted her glance riveting back on Teran Ardane. "Pray explain."

"We need a way of identifying the specific resonating crystal from caves with myriad forms of stones," Teran said stepping forward to the edge of the dais. "We don't have time, though, to fashion a device sensitive enough to do that. So instead of a machine, we've decided to use a living entity. An entity whose neural sensitivities are already aligned with the precise form of crystal we need for the deterrent device."

A niggling suspicion formed in Raina's breast and wound its way up until it lodged in her throat. She gave an unsteady laugh. "And exactly what kind of entity would that be? A Volan, perhaps?"

Teran nodded, his solemn gaze locking with hers. "Exactly, femina. A Volan."

Four

For a long moment, Raina and Teague exchanged startled looks. The big monk turned back to gaze up at Teran. "A Volan? Surely you jest. The mission is perilous enough without taking the enemy with us."

Teran smiled. "As difficult as it may be for you to believe, this Volan is not our enemy. Already he has helped us in countless ways in our battle to find some solution to this distressing problem."

"So, he's a traitor to his own kind, then?" Raina interjected with a contemptuous sneer. "I find that equally distasteful."

"Rand's not a traitor," Teran quietly replied. "He truly has the best interests of the Volans at heart. But he realizes as well that his people cannot continue on the path they have chosen. He wishes to work with us to find some honorable way out of this dilemma—a way that will be satisfactory to all."

"An honorable Volan?" Raina gave a disparaging laugh. "I find that hard to believe."

"Well, we've little time to discuss the morality of the issue just now." Teran stepped down from the dais. "You'll have to accept him on our word that he's trustworthy and vital to the mission."

Raina turned to Teague. "And what have you to say, Tremayne? Are you willing to passively accept this?"

He eyed her, a muscle ticking along his jaw. "I accept nothing passively, femina. But I also choose to make my decisions based on adequate information. I say we learn more of this Volan." He glanced at Teran. "In the meanwhile, are there any more surprises in store for us? I'd prefer to know them all now."

The king's ambassador smiled. "No. I think you've had enough for one day."

"How kind of you to notice," Raina muttered. She squared her shoulders and met Teran's gaze. "As the monk said we need to learn more of this Volan. When can we meet him?"

"Now, if that suits you." Teran indicated a door behind the throne. "The Volan—Rand—currently resides in one of the laboratories. As he is once more without a body, he is connected to a life support system."

"A Volan without a body?" Raina frowned. "Then how are we to take him with us, much less to make much use of him?"

"All that will be revealed in due time." Teran lifted his hand toward the door. "Shall we go?"

Raina gave a disgruntled snort, then fell into step behind the bearded man. Teague followed silently in their wake, his hands tucked in his sleeves, a thoughtful expression on his face. The trio made their way down the long corridors, outside across the gardens, and finally back into a low-slung set of buildings that sprawled, like the spokes of a wheel, out in every direction. Yet another series of stark hallways pierced by occasional closed portals were traversed, before Teran finally drew up before a door with a small sign before it.

The sign read "Biosystem Research." For some reason, Raina didn't like the implications of that particular designation. It smacked of sordid experimentation and secretive plans, all involving the lives and bodies of living things. She knew she shouldn't be so negative about scientific research, but the horrors, the atrocities she'd seen on Incendra, after Malam Vorax had come to power . . .

With a tiny shudder, Raina directed her attention back to the issue at hand—one that was disconcerting enough in its own right. Teran ran a flat card through the key control beside the door. The portal slid open. Inhaling a fortifying breath, Raina followed the big Bellatorian inside.

The room was typical of most laboratories. Large, pristine, and sunlit, it had walls lined with cabinets filled with jars of various solutions and specimens or clearly delineated areas of stasis fields. Long metal tables equipped with various computerized machinery filled its center. A few scientists worked at the tables or bustled to and fro from cabinets or the stasis fields to retrieve some specimen or solution.

Teague drew up beside Raina. "Very interesting, Lord Ardane," he remarked dryly, glancing about him. "But where is the Volan?"

Teran indicated yet another door across the room. "Rand resides in there. He isn't an object of general interest or titillation, as bizarre as his current condition may be. And I expect the same consideration and respect for him as I would for any other living being."

"You truly care for this alien, don't you?" Teague asked.

"He sacrificed much for us, finally even willingly leaving the body of one of our people who he'd been inhabiting. Such a thing is unheard of in a Volan. And Rand dearly loved having a body again." He shot Raina, who glared back at him disbelievingly, an amused glance. "They once possessed bodies of their own, you know, until their increased metabolic rates finally burned them out."

"I've heard the tales," the warrior woman snapped. "It still doesn't justify their enslavement of unwilling victims."

"No, it doesn't," Teran gravely admitted: "But who's to say what we would have done in the same situation? The survival instinct is powerful, perhaps the most powerful driving force of all."

"Sometimes, though," Teague quietly offered, "it compels us into shameful, ignoble acts, when death would've been far more honorable."

Raina jerked her gaze to the monk. Though his expression was hooded and all but inscrutable, she could've sworn she caught a fleeting shadow of pain in his voice. Did he speak from personal experience, perhaps? She shoved the consideration aside. She didn't want to know any more about the man than was absolutely necessary.

"An ethical dilemma, to be sure," Teran agreed. "But, come, the day draws on, and you've still to learn the rudiments of piloting the Volan spy ship. We've a mock-up of the actual one that remains in orbit around Bellator for you to practice on just a few doors down."

"I can't wait," Raina mumbled under her breath.

Teran and Teague must have heard her, for they exchanged an amused glance. She stared back, refusing to allow either man to intimidate or silence her. When they stepped out once more, however, she followed them across the room without comment or protest. No further purpose was served in grumbling, Raina decided. They'd committed to the mission and any and all eventualities it might entail.

The room they entered was dimly lit by a luminescent green sphere suspended from various tubes in one corner. A faint humming from some machine connected to the tubes completed the eerie scene. Uneasiness prickled down Raina's spine. There was definitely the feel of an alien presence in the room yet, at the same time, the presence seemed benevolent, almost eager for their company.

Teran closed the door behind them and walked over to the machine. He adjusted some levers and depressed a few digitalized buttons, then turned back to Teague and Raina. "With the assistance of this dual life support and communications device, Rand can both survive and talk with you. We're working on miniaturizing all the components to ease bulkiness on the mission. The prototype should be ready within the next few days."

"How small will you be able to make the device?" Teague walked over to examine the machine more closely. "We need to bring as few extra items across Incendra as possible."

The Bellatorian shrugged. "The biosphere that Rand must reside in cannot be made any smaller, but we hope to reduce his life support and communications device to tiny packs that'll fit onto the sides of his shielding receptacle. That receptacle should be no more than about a fifteen-by-fifteen-millimeter cube, just large enough to enclose his biosphere and fit easily into a carrying pack."

"Why is this shielding receptacle necessary?" Raina demanded.

Teran grinned and gestured toward the glowing green sphere. "Why don't you let Rand explain? His communications device is functional. Rand?"

A soft, mellifluous voice rose out of the dimness where the machine sat. "Would it first be possible, Lord Ardane; to make the acquaintance of my other visitors? I heard a male and a female. Are these the two people I must travel to Incendra with?"

Teran chuckled. "My apologies, Rand. They are indeed your new partners. The female is Raina, the male, the monk, Teague Tremayne."

"Raina. Teague," the disembodied voice said. "I'm very pleased to meet you at last. I look forward to getting to know you and—"

"I've no inclination whatsoever to get to know you better, Volan!" Raina cut him off. "There's little enough about this mission that suits me, but it never has nor ever will be anything more than business. And I certainly have no intention of making friends with either you or Tremayne."

There was a long pause before the machine transmitted the Volan's thoughts again. "I can understand your hesitation in dealing with me. I'm the enemy, after all. Or at least, that's the only way you can view me right now. But a good warrior knows as well that the greater the knowledge of the enemy, the greater the potential advantage."

"True enough," Raina agreed, willing to concede this . . . this machine that much. She was working from too emotional a base here, she reluctantly admitted, and that was never wise when it came to matters of life and death. It was just hard enough dealing with the unsettling presence of Teague Tremayne on this mission, much less a Volan in a box. "We'll have ample time, though, for further acquaintance while on the mission. For the moment, I merely want to know why you need a shielding receptacle."

"For two reasons, Raina," Rand softly replied. "First, to protect my biosphere. It has but a thick, membranous exterior that can be penetrated with a sharp object and willful intent. If that happens, my entity, which dwells within, will die. I'd prefer for that not to happen."

"And the second reason?" Raina prompted.

"To protect my highly sensitized response to Incendra's electromagnetic field and to the crystal's effects until it is necessary for me temporarily to be exposed to the correct stones to determine which is the one needed. Teran tells me I'm the best determinant of the proper crystal in caves lined with myriad forms of crystals."

"And the only reason we seem to need you on this trip," the warrior woman added grimly.

"I don't care to be exposed to unnecessary danger any more than you do, femina," Rand said. "In my current state, I'm extremely vulnerable."

"Then why not give him a body?" Teague demanded, turning to Teran. "He could still be sensitive to the type of stone we need, and perhaps be of some physical use in the bargain."

"A fine idea," the Bellatorian sardonically agreed, "but there seems to be a dearth of volunteers of late willing to give up their bodies."

"Then what about a clone?" the monk persisted. "They are mindless, but this Volan seems to have the mental faculties necessary to fill that void. And even a clone is human enough to help us."

"We've given some thought to that issue," Teran said, "but it takes time to grow a clone. Even with the new acceleration process that forces the clone cells to mature to an adult form in just two cycles rather than in the normal developmental lifespan, it still takes two cycles. And Rand would be little help to you save in an adult body."

"I concede that would be the wisest course."

"There's also the additional issue," Teran continued, "of the strain his Volan entity would put on the donor body. Drugs that might slow or even eliminate the problem are in the formative stages, but they aren't ready yet."

Teran sighed and shook his head. "We are working on this problem and its solutions as quickly as we can, not only to provide a viable resolution to our dilemma, but to those of the Volans as well. But as I've said before, there isn't time right now for a body for Rand or the procurement of other Incendarians who might better suit either of your personal tastes. The Volans might not accept our offer of clone bodies even when they are ready. We've got to protect ourselves, in the meantime, as best we can. Hence, the deterrent device. What we offer as the best solution to the current situation is the best one at the moment. And what you must accept and work with."

"I thank you for your patience with my questions," the monk said, rendering him a respectful bow. "I will accept and work with what is currently feasible. I just wished to more fully understand . . ."

"And I beg pardon if I seemed a bit peevish there." The Bellatorian rendered him a courteous nod in reply. "The stress of planning this mission begins to wear thin." He smiled. "It's been over two months since I last saw my wife and children. The separation grows overlong."

Teague met his gaze. "Loved ones are important. I am happy that you find support and comfort in yours."

"Then, the sooner this, mission is over, the better," Raina remarked with a twinge of irritation. "Is there anything else that we need to know about this Volan—at least, anything vital to the mission?"

"There is one thing more, one last purpose of the shielding receptacle." Teran glanced briefly in the biosphere's direction. "Volans are commanded by a higher presence, one that emanates from the Volan Mother Ship, the apparent source of all our problems since its excursion into the Imperium. Volans are born and bred to obey, to follow the collective mind of the hive ship. Until Rand was cut off from the Mother Ship's unceasing directives while he was secretly assigned to the planet Tenua a few months ago, he functioned as mindlessly as the rest of his kind. The shielding receptacle is also designed to protect him from further directives of the Mother Ship if, for some reason, its influence can and does ever extend to Incendra. Rand knows this and so should you, in case you ever decide to remove him from the shielding receptacle."