Omega Games (15 page)

“Twenty thousand stan credits,” Drefan replied. “Hardly a blip compared to what I could make if I gave your wife to Davidov.” He glanced at me. “I don’t think Tya is a coward. If she were, she would never fight as she does.”

He gave nothing away in his tone, but I sensed that he actually cared about the Hsktskt female. “Has she ever said why she deserted her post?”

“Davidov told me that she botched a raid, and she didn’t want to face the consequences. Excuse me for a moment.” Drefan moved his chair over to the console, where he summoned Keel.

“I understand that a Hsktskt raid wiped out the original colony on Trellus,” I said when Drefan returned to the table. “Surely Mercy and the others who survived cannot be pleased by Tya’s presence on Trellus.”

“No one outside my staff knows Tya exists,” Drefan said. “Nor will they, until I broadcast Reever’s match with her throughout the domes. It should be quite entertaining.” He turned to my husband. “That is, if you agree to fight her.”

Reever put his hand over mine.
He is not telling the whole truth, but unless he helps us repair
Moonfire
, we cannot leave Trellus.

I didn’t want him to go anywhere near that Hsktskt, but he was right. Davidov had left us no choice.
I trust your judgment.

To Drefan, Reever said, “I will fight her.”

Eight

Drefan would not allow Reever to leave Omega Dome until I performed the exams on his staff, which I calculated would take several days. I had an obligation to return to Mercy House to do the same there. I suggested contacting her and making arrangements to share my time between the two domes, but Drefan refused to let me signal the brothel owner.

“I have to tell her about the Tingalean,” I said. “Her drednocs were destroyed, defending me.” Hopefully Reever caught my arm and swung me around to face him. “You were attacked?”

I’d forgotten that he didn’t know about the skirmish with the Tingalean. “It happened when I came here from Mercy House. I wasn’t hurt.”

“You two have a great deal to discuss,” Drefan said. “You will stay here tonight with Reever, Doctor. I will signal Mercy and make arrangements with her on how best to share your services until the exams are completed.” But if either of you tell Mercy or anyone outside Omega Dome about Tya, I will void the repayment agreement.”

“The next time we go sojourning,” I told Duncan as we followed the games master out of his quarters, “we are bringing an entire cargo hold of credits with us.”

Drefan escorted me and Reever to our rooms, and bid us good night. I expected him to lock us in, but the door panel controls were enabled inside.

“He is very trusting,” I said as I secured the entrance.

“The entire facility is under constant monitor,” my husband said as he walked around and inspected the place. “That is why I was not able to come to you. He will also be watching our every move.” He pointed to several areas. “Tell me what happened with the Tingalean.”

I recounted how I had been escorted by drednocs from Mercy House, and described the Tingalean’s vicious attack. “It used a mining laser on them. They never had a chance to defend themselves.”

“Drones are mechanized constructs, Jarn,” Reever said. “Not people.”

“It still wasn’t fair.” I went to the external viewer, which showed the remains of the old ore-processing towers. “Do you sense how afraid they are?”

“Colonists who are isolated like this often developsuspicious natures,” Reever said. “Davidov’s blockade has not helped.”

“I think it is more than that.” There was only one substance I knew that could invoke the worst fears of an entire population: Odnallak bone dust, which an old enemy of Cherijo’s had used to infect the Hsktskt on their homeworld. The plague on Vtaga had brought out primal fears invoked by the memories of an ancient, extinct threat. "SrrokVar could not have infected this planet. He never had the chance to send PyrsVar offplanet with the bone dust.” A thought occurred to me. “Could someone else have taken it from Vtaga?”

"TssVar saw to it that the entire supply was destroyed. However, all that is needed to create it are the bones of an Odnallak.” Reever came to stand behind me. “Do you believe the colonists’ paranoia to be that excessive?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps my own fears are magnifying things. I will scan them for dust contamination when I begin the medical exams.” Once more I saw the Tingalean’s blood-rimmed eyes in my mind, which puzzled me. “Can you retrieve some specifics about the Tingalean species on the room terminal?”

Reever went over to the console and input an inquiry. “The colonial database offers only general information. ” Reever looked. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“In the Tingalean’s eye sockets, there are no blood vessels. The eye structure is protected by a mucusoid layer surrounding it and the optic nerve bundle.” I gnawed at my bottom lip. “I know that I saw blood in its eyes, all around the rims.”

“If it had a head injury, the blood might have run into the eyes,” Reever said.

I concentrated, recalling the blur of the Tingalean’s features. “It was not injured or bleeding. There were no penetrating wounds to its face or skull. The only way to cause that much bleeding in this species would be to pull its eyes from the sockets, sever the optic nerves, and then push them back in place. But doing that would blind it, and this one could see perfectly.”

“It may have attacked someone before you,” Reever said. “The blood of its victim may have gotten into its eyes.”

I shook my head. “The blood was Tingalean in color.”

“I will check to see how many of its kind are on Trellus. ” Reever switched the screen to the colonial census database, and input a population inquiry. “There is only one Tingalean listed as residing on colony.”

“So the blood didn’t come from another Tingalean. ” I frowned. “Is there a death record listed for a second?” When he shook his head, I exhaled in frustration. “How many people are on Trellus?”

“According to colonial census, two thousand, four hundred and eight have permanent residence status,” my husband read from the screen. “Eighty-two visitors have arrived but not departed.”

Something occurred to me. “What was the population count seven days ago?”

He changed the date of the inquiry. “Two thousand, four hundred and eleven.” Before I could ask, he added, “There were no deaths recorded during the last week.”

If the three missing colonists had died, the information should have been immediately put into the database. That was standard procedure, even among independent outposts and secluded societies.

A vague dread settled over me. “What was the population count thirty days ago?”

“Two thousand, four hundred and twenty-three.” He paused. “No deaths recorded for any of them, either.”

Twelve had disappeared in the last thirty days. “And the week just before Davidov began the blockade?”

He made another inquiry, and pulled up a different figure. “Two thousand, six hundred and twelve residents. Ninety-four visitors.” He looked up at me. “There have been no deaths recorded for the missing, or anyone on the colony over the past year.”

It was too large a number to be an accounting error. “Duncan, two hundred and sixteen people do not simply disappear. If they’re not dead, they must have escaped. But how are they getting off the planet?”

“Almost ten percent of the population is gone,” I pointed out. “If they died of natural causes or misadventure, that would mean this colony’s mortality rate is five times greater than any other settled world in this quadrant.” I thought for a moment. “Who is responsible for the census?”

“It is compiled by drone monitor,” my husband said. “Someone may have tampered with the program to conceal the true status of the missing.”

“Perhaps. But what if they are really gone, and no one knows about it but the drone monitors? If they can’t leave, and there are no bodies, where could they be?” Pain spiked through my head, sudden and sharp, and I pressed my fingers to my temples as images began boiling in my mind. “That slave depot. Catopsa. Something like this happened there.”

“Jarn.” Reever drew me away from the console. “It is better that you not try to remember it.”

“The memories are yours, not mine,” I reminded him, grimacing as the pain spiked. “The guards. Hsktskt . . .” I could not create order out of the chaotic images. My forearm started to feel peculiar, almost as if it were hot. “Why does it hurt to remember that? I was not there.”

“Cherijo was.” He put his arms around me and pulled me against his rigid frame. “I should not have inflicted you with a past you never lived.”

I pressed my cheek against his shoulder. “Tell me what happened on Catopsa. What did the guards do with the missing slaves? All I remember are angry centurons, heat, and humanoid body parts. And my arm hurts.”

“The body parts were all we were able to recover, ” Reever said. “Some of the guards were using the missing slaves as food.” He waited before he added, “Cherijo was branded with a slave identification code. It kept healing over, so the Hsktskt kept branding her.” He touched my forearm where I felt the pain. “Here.”

“It didn’t happen to me.” I pushed the hurtful memories away. “Do you think the colonists are practicing cannibalism?”

Reever shrugged. “It would not be the first time an isolated group of starving individuals resorted to such desperate measures.”

I thought of the stew Drefan had served us, and my stomach clenched as I reached for my scanner and passed it over the front of me. My stomach contents showed on the display as partially digested synpro. “If they are, they didn’t feed anyone to us tonight.”

“I do not see that kind of desperation, and Alek claimed that he was making regular supply drops.” Reever tipped my chin and looked into my eyes. “You are exhausted. Come and rest with me. We will have time in the morning to inquire about those who are missing.”

I recalled the ultimatum Davidov had delivered after
Moonfire
had crashed. We had only thirty days to find and kill the Odnallak.

Time was not our ally.

Despite the strange sleeping platform and unfamiliar surroundings, I fell asleep quickly, safe in Reever’s arms. I did not wake until I felt his warmth moving away from me, replaced by cold alloy, fiery breath,

They ordered us not to kill you, but said we could use you as often as we wished.

The alien male from my dream had returned. This time I felt more aware of my body, and how it had been manacled and chained. My limbs felt heavy and dull, and my mind clouded, as if I had been drugged.

The cabin in which we were slowly revolved around us, items tumbling out of containers, equipment smashing against the interior walls.

My brother has no taste for your kind.
The claws that had been choking me only a few moments before caressedmy cheek.
But I wondered. I wondered how you might be.

I wanted to look through the view port and see how close we were to the surface.
Oforon, there is still time to send a distress signal.

I’ve tried. No one will respond. The Toskald are blocking all transmissions.
Black eyes squeezed shut as he held on to my chains, the only thing keeping him and me from tumbling about the cabin.
The League would not come even if they received it. We were always expendable, my brother and I.

The wind buffeting the transport began to howl outside the hull, a petulant child frustrated with a toy it could not break.
My husband and daughter care about me.

You think they still search for you?
Oforon uttered a sound of sour amusement.
You’re a fool. They believed Shropana’s ruse, just as everyone else did. They think you long dead.

I had felt dead, until this moment. I wasn’t Jorenian, but at last I understood why they left behind messages for their kin. I couldn’t go into the embrace of the stars without speaking one last time to the ones I loved.

Please,
I begged.
Release me. Let me send one signal. Only one, I promise. I must say good-bye to my family.