Shades of Gray (28 page)

“I’ll get Jurrel and Banner to load them,” he promised, then looked Kaid calmly in the eyes until the other released him. “We’ll talk. I can’t leave without the Prince,” he said. “Q’almo, accompany Prince Zsurtul. You’re now one of his designated bodyguards.”

“Aye, Captain.”

He waited until the doors closed before leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. Every breath brought their scents to him—hers as sweetly musk as he remembered, his deeper and sharper, male. Memories of nights together rose, refusing to be banished until he forced himself to remember the danger to them.

Blinking furiously, he straightened up and strode away.

 

What’s happened to him?
Carrie asked.
He’s changed so much, and he’s blocking us on every level!

We’ll find out later,
Kaid replied.
Let’s see Zsurtul start this bad weather, and then we’ll go down and get him on his own.

“Highness! Enlightened One! Gods be praised, it is you!” exclaimed the senior scientist, bowing low as they emerged in the actual weather lab. “We hardly dared hope it was true.”

“As you see, here I am, Doctor,” said Zsurtul, reluctantly giving up Zhalmo’s hand.

“Gratified as we are by your visit, Highness, may I ask why you honor us with your presence?”

“I need to access the weather control, Doctor ...” Zsurtul hesitated, waiting for him to supply his name.

“Doctor Kochess, Highness. If it’s because of the meteorites, they shouldn’t come close to us, but ...”

Zsurtul held up his hand, silencing him. “Not directly. I need to change the weather drastically on the surface so that the City of Light suffers such severe thunderstorms that it loses contact with the ships now orbiting our world.”

“The effect doesn’t need to be gradual,” interrupted Kaid. “In fact, if it is swift enough that they assume the Orbital has been damaged, so much to the good.”

“But we have the force fields to protect us ...” began one of the others.

“Which you can’t use with the
Kz’adul
berthed here. I’m assured that worrying about why the Orbital has been damaged will be the last thing on the minds of those in the City during this storm,” said Zsurtul, his voice taking on a slightly brittle quality.

Doctor Kochess smiled slightly. “I begin to understand, Highness. To do that, we need you to initiate the manual override. Incidentally, there is a failsafe built into the system that will allow you, if you have the codes, to sever communications between the ground and the ships. There’s no need to hope that the storm does it.”

“That’s good news,” said Kaid. “Do you have the codes, Prince Zsurtul?”

“Since K’hedduk hasn’t been able to tamper with this system, I assume the code my father gave me should work here.”

“If you would come over here, Highness,” said Kochess, leading the way to the other side of the central control bank. “There is a DNA and retinal scan procedure you must take to activate the override.”

Zsurtul followed him, waiting patiently while Kochess pressed the controls that brought the retinal scanner out of its recess. In front of it, a palm sized panel started to glow.

“Please place your hand on the panel and look into the small lens. You’ll feel a short burst of heat under your hand as it takes a sample of your skin.”

It was over in a moment.

“Identity confirmed. Crown Prince Zsurtul Shan-Cheu’ko’h, welcome to the Orbital Weather Platform,” intoned the artificial voice. “What are your Highness’ instructions?”

“Initiate manual override,” said Zsurtul, trying to keep the slight tremor out of his voice as he glanced at Zhalmo standing by his side. “Praise to thee, O waters of Life, coming forth from the earth, that your people may be fed,” he recited, then fell silent.

“The God-King has spoken,” said the computer. “As you command, so it will be. Manual override initiated. The station is yours, Highness.”

Zsurtul looked at Doctor Kochess, then at Kaid. “I had the code,” he said.

I think it has really hit him that his father is dead, poor lad,
Carrie sent to Kaid.

“That’s all that’s required, Highness. We can now access the controls, including those that will isolate the ships from the Palace of Light.”

Kaid joined them. “Show me the approaching asteroids,” he said.

“Over here,” said a voice from behind. “I’m sorry—no one has introduced you,” the scientist apologized.

After hasty introductions, Kaid studied the approaching asteroids.

“It’s only just begun,” said Kochess helpfully.

“We should have a good six hours of them,” said Kaid. “I need that storm established as soon as possible.”

“If you tell me what is planned, I can more easily tailor it to your needs.”

“We’re dropping soldiers under cover of the storm, specifically at its height. Dawn is only three hours away—I need a storm that keeps the sky as dark as night for as long as possible. Torrential rain and lightning, the works.”

“You want a supercell one, then. The problem with those is that the more severe the storm, the more likely it is to become a danger to yourselves and any airborne vehicles you may be using.”

“We’ll be safe in ablative shells when we’re dropped,” said Kaid. “I’ve been in severe storms before; our equipment can handle it. We’re insulated.”

“The usual time for storms to start is in the late afternoon,” murmured Kochess. “You need heat after all, and moisture, to start the process.”

“It’s day on one side of your world right now,” said Kaid.

“There is that, of course, but we are a fairly arid world, with landlocked seas . . . Leave it with me. We’ll come up with what you need.”

“In our time frame? We need that storm to be at its height within three hours at most. In fact, we need it to be fairly severe within the next hour.”

“Yes, yes, now let me work.” Already Kochess was deep in his own thoughts as he darted from one to the other of the control units set on the hub of the room, checking the displays on his colleagues’ screens.

“What about communications?” Kaid reminded him.

“We’ll call down to the Port Office and let you know. I assume that is your base of operations, yes? Now go, leave us to our work and concentrate on your own.” Kochess suddenly remembered that Prince Zsurtul was there. “Highness, I meant no insult to your allies . . . but we all work best if left to get on with it.”

“I understand, Doctor Kochess,” said Zsurtul.

 

He knew it was Kaid before the hand even fell on his suit shoulder.

“Now,” was all he said.

“We can manage the rest,” said Banner. “Take what time you need.”

Kusac left the
Profit’s
cargo hold with Kaid. In the empty loading bay, he stopped and turned to face him, heart already pounding.

“Not here,” said Kaid, his face expressionless. “In the bar, where we won’t be disturbed.”

 

“There’s only one thing I need to know right now,” said Kaid, closing the bar door behind them. “Did you leave the cub Shaidan in Kezule’s care?”

“Yes. Shaidan’s safe with him. He’s on the
N’zishok
with Kezule’s wife and young daughter,” he said, surprised at the question. He walked over to the bar and leaned against it.

“Well and good.” Kaid studied him carefully before coming to stand in front of him. “After our last meeting, I swore when next I saw you ...”

“Don’t. You know I was under orders ...”

“I know. You couldn’t have chosen to say anything more calculated to push me aside if you’d tried. But you knew that.”

This was the last thing that he’d expected from Kaid. Anger, recriminations, but not this. He could feel his throat constricting, making it difficult to breathe.

“I had to stop you from following me,” he whispered, still, by an effort of will, keeping his eyes averted.

“Oh, you did that, all right. If I’d had my wits about me, I’d have seen it for what it was.”

He felt Kaid’s fingers touch his neck and looked up then in shock.

“You always did get a tight throat when you got stressed,” Kaid said, hand curling around his throat and beginning to massage it gently.

He grasped the hand, pulling it away. “Kaid,” he began, then let his head drop forward until their foreheads touched. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, losing himself in the familiar scent and touch of his Triad partner. “I’m sorry. I meant none of what I said that day.”

“I know you didn’t. And I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, didn’t believe Carrie when she insisted there had to be a good reason for what you’d done,” said Kaid, turning his hand in Kusac’s until he could clasp it. “Banner told me everything that happened on Kij’ik. You’ve nothing to explain. We’re both just glad to have you back.”

Like a shower of cold water, Kaid’s words reminded him what was at stake. “It’s not that simple,” he said, gently pushing away from him. “You know about the scent marker. What you don’t know is that it acts like a drug, and I can’t be without it—without her.” He searched Kaid’s face, praying he’d understand. “And I’ve gotten used to it, and her, Kaid. I wouldn’t change it if I could.”

“She’s a Prime, Kezule’s wife.” A statement, nothing more. Testing him to see what his response was.

“I know.” Now the big lie. “That’s not important. I love her, Kaid.”

Silence and a steady, unflinching gaze from Kaid’s eyes—eyes more gray than any other color right now. “I see. That . . . kind of complicates life, doesn’t it?”

Relief flooded through him. Kaid had believed the lie. “It was the Directorate, not Zayshul’s doing,” he said. “Kezule knows this, as do most people now.”

“And Kezule has no objection? He has changed, then,” murmured Kaid.

“I have to go, Kaid. We’ll talk again later, on the surface, when this is all over.”

Kaid nodded. “Don’t take any chances, Kusac, even though you’ve got the people who trapped the tunnels with you. K’hedduk’s no fool—he’ll have put his own traps in. Use those remotes.”

“I will. Believe me, they’re very welcome. M’kou’s already experimenting with one of them on the shuttle.” He hesitated, suddenly no longer anxious to leave. “You’ll tell ...”

“Carrie knows,” Kaid said. “She has something to tell you—news you should hear from her before you go.”

“I really can’t delay any longer ...” he began, moving away from the bar and Kaid as Carrie pushed the door open.

“It will only take a moment, Kusac,” she said, coming over to them. “You need to know in case anything should happen to any of us.”

He frowned, wondering what it could be.

“You have a son,” she said.

His face cleared, and he nodded. “Shaidan. I knew about him from the first. I thought Banner would have told you that.”

“Not Shaidan. A cub, a twin to the daughter Kaid and I had.”

Shock hit him like a punch to the belly. “What? How is that possible? Unless it was that first night on Haven ...”

All pretenses at distancing himself from them were gone. He could see from her expression that the feelings he’d hidden from Kaid were now written clearly on his face. He struggled with his emotions, trying to get them back in order.

“He was conceived then. We called him Dhaykin. He’s dark like you, Kusac.”

Another son—a cub! “Your daughter, what did you call her?” he asked hoarsely. This was all he’d ever wanted—to be with those he loved and share cubs with them.

“Layeesha. Already she looks out for her little brother,” Carrie said, coming closer.

Two more reasons to protect them now. “I have to go, and you have to let me,” he whispered, fighting to keep the pain he felt at parting from them from showing. “Take care in the coming battle, both of you!” He reached out, grasping her by the shoulder, pulling her close until his lips fastened on hers in a bruising kiss that flooded his senses with the magic of their vanished Link.

Shocked again, he wrenched himself away from her only to be caught up in Kaid’s arms.

“Stay safe, sword-brother! We’ll see you at the bar or in L’Shoh’s Hell!” Then he was released and loping for the door, leaving them behind. On his cheek he could still feel the touch of Kaid’s tongue, and on his lips, the echo of a Leska’s kiss.

 

Carrie put her hand to her lips, a strange expression on her face as Kaid put an arm around her armored shoulders.

“What is it?” he asked.

“His kiss . . . It was as if we were Linked, Kaid. Like before.”

“It couldn’t have been,” he said. “Do you sense anything from him now?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. It was as if his shields came down just for a split second when we kissed. I don’t believe he’s in love with her.”

“Hold tight back there,” said Tirak over the shuttle’s comm. “It’s going to be one hell of a ride! Those folk on the Orbital certainly cooked you up a storm!”