Rystani Warrior 02 - The Dare (34 page)
Read Rystani Warrior 02 - The Dare Online
Authors: Susan Kearney
“You don’t know what you can do until you try.” Zical’s eyes pleaded, but his stiff and stilted tone told her that he was as disappointed in her as he’d been thrilled to learn of his impending fatherhood.
“You don’t get it.” She took a deep breath. “The idea of becoming a mother is all I can handle right now.”
“Dora.” Zical took her hand between hers. “I’ll help you all that I can. But please tell me you feel up to the task of motherhood. Or do you fear that responsibility, too?”
“I’m not afraid.” At her words, the tension in his shoulders eased. She already wanted this child with a fierceness that made her breath catch. “It’s just that I didn’t picture my life taking this path.”
“Neither did I. When I was a boy, I thought I’d grow up on Rystan. I never dreamed I’d have enough to eat or that I’d pilot a starship or that I’d father a child with a woman who was born as a machine. I never dreamed that my foolish exploration on Mount Shachauri could threaten life in the galaxy or that it would be our destiny to try to stop the Zin. We can’t always choose our fates.”
“I know that.” She squeezed his hand and then released it, understanding that she wasn’t the only one her decisions involved. “Give me time to adjust.”
He released a sigh of exasperation. “I’d rather we raise our child together, but if you aren’t up to the task,” his tone softened to gentle, fuzzy, and sensitive, “I will raise and love the baby alone.”
At his tender words, she wanted to cuddle in his arms and let out a sob.
“I can do it. I think.” Already, she was too attached to the life growing in her womb to ever hand over the baby to him to raise after it was born. But it wasn’t fair to take comfort from him when she couldn’t promise him a future together. So she held back. Held back the tears of frustration that with all her intellect and all her planning and all her great knowledge of science, she’d forgotten basic biological facts that when women and men copulated, they made babies.
She’d thought of having a child in the abstract. Much like she’d thought of someday having a husband. It was for a time in the distant future. She certainly hadn’t expected to tie herself down her first year of being human. Yet, she couldn’t help the eagerness and excitement and love from spiraling. What would their child look like? What kind of personality would it have? Boy or girl?
She didn’t care. She simply prayed that it would be born healthy and strong. She thought of names and wondered if she could be a good mother when she’d had none of her own to learn from by example.
After they returned to Mystique, Miri and Shaloma and Tessa would help. As would Etru and Kahn. Within their family, only Tessa would understand her reluctance to marry Zical. If Dora never married, likely only Tessa would remain nonjudgmental. But Dora couldn’t make her decision based on how others would judge her. Whatever she decided, her baby would be loved.
ZICAL AVOIDED DORA for the next two days in hyperspace. His absence hurt, and although she often dwelled on her impending motherhood, she also worried about her future as well as Zical’s. Since what Kirek needed most to recover from his ordeal was rest, he spent most of his time sleeping, and it gave her too much time to think. Mostly, she fixated about the future success of their meeting with the Sentinel.
After their escape from Kwadii, Ranth had run a self-diagnostic program. He’d discovered that while he’d hidden in the vault, the hyperdrive had been tampered with, slowing their progress. Dora knew Zical had questioned the newcomers on board, Avanti and Deckar, but she could think of no motive for them to slow the mission. They were spending all their time developing their psi to operate their Federation suits. She figured it more likely that when the Kwadii had put the dampeners on their systems, and Ranth couldn’t protect the system when hidden in the vault, the dampeners had somehow adversely affected the hyperdrive.
Although repairs had been undertaken, Ranth estimated it would now take an entire extra week to reach the galaxy’s rim, where they hoped to find a way to contact the Sentinel, then reprogram the ancient machine to return to guard the galaxy. The scientists were already discussing how to locate the Sentinel.
However, now that they were so much closer to the rim, Dora tried to gather more information. During the journey her psi had strengthened, and Ranth and she worked more smoothly together than ever before. Their reach into space was far greater, their ability to infiltrate distant star systems more manageable, and they’d broadened their communications networks to gather information.
She hoped that since the Sentinel was now closer to the Milky Way Galaxy, she might contact the machine directly. The knowledge she could gain would be invaluable, and the task would also give her relief from thinking about Zical, his marriage proposal, and the baby growing inside her. Much more comfortable in the world of logic and statistics and program analysis than in dealing with her personal problems, she tapped into Ranth, hoping that with the hyperdrive repairs completed, he could give her his full power.
Ranth
?
Linking
.
Dora’s mind merged with the processors and the hardware, her sensory array expanding until she could “see” from thousands of ship’s sensors, monitor hundreds of thousands of random communications, take in so many details that it flooded her brain. To avoid mental burnout, she focused on keeping only the data she required, filtering out extraneous material. As she linked with Ranth, she lost her sense of smell, her sense of touch, becoming lost in a system of intricately woven code.
Ranth’s and her psi powered up, shooting them through hyperspace, linking with machines from thousands, maybe millions of other worlds. They ignored all data, except that which pertained to legends of the Perceptive Ones, the Sentinel, and contacting and reprogramming the machine.
They found so little. On a planet called Haptarin was an outpost where the Perceptive Ones might have once spoken to the people on Mount Faragon. On Danjabo, she caught a reference to the Perceptive Ones in an ancient museum, noted a sculpture labeled “The Sentinel,” and collected odd bits of data that singularly made no sense but perhaps when studied over time might aid their quest.
Stretching their new powers, they flung their psi ever outward toward the rim, where the stars thinned and the galaxy succumbed to the vastness of empty space between galaxies. Utter blackness, utter quiet cocooned them.
Silence.
Darkness.
Emptiness.
Without Ranth’s link, Dora would have been terrified of becoming lost in the immensity of nothingness. Still, they stretched their psi out farther toward the Andromeda Galaxy. Pushing. Seeking. Dora’s isolation increased as she let go of all sense of self. Hurtled through the great blackness until …
Ranth. What is that
? She noted a tendril of alien intelligence. An iota of a psi tickle.
I am Guranu
.
The words came to her clearly, the entity responding in pure thought.
Guranu
.
A resting place for the Sentinels during their long journey
.
The information excited and stunned.
Sentinels
?
There is more than one
?
Guranu maintains contacts with thousands of Sentinels. Do you require aid
?
We require communication and information
, Dora requested, electrified by this contact, but worried that they couldn’t maintain the link for long. The distances were simply too far, their powers weakened by the second. All along they’d thought that a single Sentinel, one machine, protected them from the Zin. To learn there were so many astounded her.
Hope rose in her. Was it possible only one Sentinel had been recalled? That the rest remained between the Milky Way and Andromeda Galaxies, still standing watch as they had for eons?
Guranu will link you and the Sentinels
.
Stand by
.
Standing by
, Dora agreed, wondering if their entire journey might have been for nothing. If Zical’s presence at Mount Shachauri had only recalled one machine of thousands, they all might still be safe. The crew could all go home to Mystique. Dora would have liked nothing more than to return to have her baby with her best friend at her side. To be cut off from Tessa had made Dora mature, but she missed Tessa and longed to talk to her. About Zical. About the baby. About what Dora should do next.
This is Sentinel 17592. Why do you seek communication?
Have all Sentinels been recalled
? Dora asked.
Yes
.
Oh, no. It was worse than she’d thought, and her hopes that all was at it should be burned out as quickly as a falling meteor. If all the Sentinels had been recalled, their task was now much more difficult. How would they find and contact them all? Somehow they’d have to find a way to turn all of them around—a seemingly impossible goal.
The recall order was an error
, Dora communicated to the Sentinel.
All of you must turn around
.
The Sentinels do not listen to the enemy
.
Enemy? The Sentinel thought they were the enemy? Then why had it given them the information they’d been recalled? Nothing made sense. Panic filled her. She tried to explain.
We are not the enemy. We are on the same side. The Perceptive Ones created the Sentinel to protect us from the Zin
.
You harbor an ally of the Zin. You are the enemy
.
Dora sensed the machine’s implacable will. Had the Sentinel’s programming broken down, just like the Perceptive Ones’ programming on Mount Shachauri? She sent a tendril down the link, hoping to infiltrate the system and discern the problem.
And struck a wall. A wall harder than
bendar
. A wall that hurled her and Ranth backward. Blinding light shot out, only it wasn’t simply light, but energy, pure hellish energy that destroyed two worlds near their starship, one to port, one to starboard.
Their ship shuddered, and sped onward safe in hyperspace. But her own continued well-being didn’t prevent Dora’s horror.
Billions of innocent people had just died.
Dora jolted back into her body and immediately thought she might be sick. Slowly she realized that Zical was running his hands up and down her arms, a fierce glower of anger and concern on his face. She had no idea how long he’d been there, but he must have been monitoring the link with Guranu and the Sentinels through Ranth.
Too stunned to talk, she didn’t even ask him what he was doing here. Dregan hell. Two worlds. Billions of people dead within the space of a heartbeat. All because she’d contacted the Sentinel.
“The Sentinel may attack again,” Zical spoke in a rush, but never raised his voice although every muscle in his neck tensed. It was a measure of his concern for the ship that he didn’t ask if she was all right. As captain it was his job to ensure the safety of them all. Yet, she couldn’t stop shaking, wanted his arms around her. Slowly she recalled she had no right to take that kind of comfort from him but couldn’t get past the knowledge she’d made a terrible mistake.
“Ranth’s been filling me in.” Zical led her to the vidscreen where he showed her how close the energy burst had come to destroying their ship. “The Sentinel tried to kill us and missed.”
“It’s my fault.” Slowly she gathered her wits.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. The Sentinel made a mistake, not you.”
She shook her head. “It said we’re the enemy, and those worlds would still exist if I hadn’t contacted the Sentinel.”
Ranth added more facts in an attempt to assuage her guilt. “It’s amazing that these great machines have lasted for eons. Sooner or later, parts wear down, energy dissipates. The Sentinel didn’t recognize us, that’s why it attacked.”
With his ship in danger, Zical’s tone was impatient. “Dora, get over the guilt. The Perceptive Ones’ machine killed those worlds—not you.”
“Billions of intelligent beings died. Mothers and fathers. Children. Entire races.” Chilled, sickened, she had to fight to prevent her teeth from chattering.
“Making choices without knowing all the facts is part of being human.”
Dora was beginning to hate that phrase about “being human.” Her stomach twisted into knots that left her crossing her arms over her stomach and rocking. How could she go on with her life after knowing what she’d done?
As if reading her mind, Zical answered her unspoken question. “You’ll have to learn to forgive yourself. Sometimes the loss we suffer makes us appreciate the gift of what we do have. But right now, I need you with me, or more people may die. What are the chances of the Sentinel attacking us again?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, her head aching as she tried to get past the horrible loss. “The Sentinel may not even know the attack failed. Or it could be reloading that terrible weapon.”
“Why didn’t the Sentinel recognize us?” Zical paced to and fro in her quarters, his hands clasped behind his back, his chin jutting forward with determination to find a solution to the mystery of why they’d been attacked.
Dora had trouble understanding and thinking clearly beyond the throbbing in her head. “Either the programming broke down or someone changed it.”
“A race as intelligent as the Perceptive Ones would have taken precautions,” Zical said.
“Maybe they did. The machines the Perceptive Ones built on Laptiva for The Challenge still recognize that we are the true descendants. Our suits still work. It doesn’t make sense that all these machines would break down in the same way. That attack wasn’t from just one Sentinel, but a coordinated group effort.” She shivered, her tone as bleak as the despair inside her. If she hadn’t contacted the Sentinel, billions of beings on two worlds would be going about their normal lives, eating, shopping, studying, working. Now, they were gone—two entire planets, utterly, completely disintegrated. For once she wished she could stop thinking. Shut down her brain. But the human mind didn’t always do what its owner wanted. Even with her despair, she kept coming up with ideas.
“Maybe the Zin altered it and turned the Sentinels against us,” Zical suggested. “We need to know. You’ll have to tap in again.”
He sounded as reluctant as she felt. Yet, he’d gone ahead and urged her. Torn, struck with grief, she realized that even if he ordered her to contact the Sentinel, she would have to refuse, but hoped it wouldn’t come to a contest of wills, especially if she had to break her word that she’d obey his direct command. Better if she could convince him that contacting the Sentinel would compound their problem.
