Shades of Gray (60 page)

When had the changes in him happened? What—or, more important, who—had caused them? Was it the procedure done by Annuur? That had given him his Talent back after Annuur had made new pathways in his damaged neural system and brain. He remembered now that when he’d come back from the dead, Kezule had told him about the Valtegan healing trance and that he, too, had these Warrior organs, and he’d told him again at the planning meeting when Zayshul had sedated him. It hadn’t made the impact then that sitting here thinking about it now in cold blood did. Then, there had been too much happening around him—the needs of his command, his son, the need to retake the Palace and City of Light before K’hedduk was too entrenched and M’zull sent him the promised aid—it was only now that he had the actual leisure to think it all through.

Most of the changes in his abilities had not happened on Shola, they’d happened on Kij’ik, and after he and Zayshul had started their pheromone-induced affair. What part did Naacha play in it all? He remembered . . . that he always forgot what actually occurred while he was in Naacha’s company, but that afterward there were changes in his abilities. Was this sudden escalation of his ability to change the form of objects due to something Naacha had said or done in their brief meeting in the corridor? How brief had it been?

He frowned, trying to remember. There was some connection between Giyarishis and Naacha, he was sure, as wisps of memories tried to surface. How could that be? They hadn’t met till now on K’oish’ik, had they? The feeling that they did know each other was strong, against all reason. Kzizysus and Annuur were another unlikely pair, yet they had collaborated on healing his mind. And Naacha had been there, too. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

A feeling of déjà vu began to steal over him, along with a deep lassitude. He’d come to some of these conclusions before, he realized, yet somehow he’d forgotten about them. Forcing himself to his feet despite his overwhelming exhaustion was an effort, but one he knew he had to make. Was this kin to that little inner voice, he wondered? Pushing himself, he left his suite, heading for the hospital area, where he knew Zayshul would be at this time of day.

Abruptly, he changed course, making instead for the outside garden on this level, telling ZSADHI to ask the Doctor to meet him there. The hospital had no outside windows and depended totally on artificial light, and some instinct warned him he must avoid lights right now.

A chill breeze was blowing through the large open windows. Perched as it was on one side of the Palace, the garden was encased in clear windows that could be drawn back to let the air in. Protective screens kept dust and insects at bay. There, the cool air cleared his head as if by magic. The conservatory did have lighting, but right now it was still off to allow any visitors to see the beauty of the sunset.

Feeling much more alert, he found a seat on a stone bench and waited for her to arrive. When she did, he began to tell her everything that was on his mind.

“I don’t think it is coincidence that there was a TeLaxaudin present each time,” he finished.

She’d listened in silence, watching his face as he spoke. Now she looked down at her hands.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I was always convinced that Kzizysus was involved in the scent marker and it had nothing to do with me, unless somehow I was controlled without being aware of it. Giyarishis always insisted it was me.”

“What if you’re right?” he asked. “If it was that dead female all along? The TeLaxaudin helped your people breed after the Fall. Putting a false scent marker on you should be easy for them, and they are old allies of the Cabbarans.”

“They did more,” she said, looking up again. “They altered me so I could carry my egg safely. The Royal family must carry their own eggs to ensure that only a legal heir is produced. The rest of the people here,” she gave a wave of her hand, “use the growth tanks. The egg is removed and the shell taken off, and the child grows in the tank till ready for birth. This sounds odd until you know that we are too small to bear the eggs any more, that the only way the mother can be sure of survival is to use the growth tanks the TeLaxaudin developed for us.”

“You carried your own egg? But if there was a risk . . .?”

“That was how the Directorate tried to blackmail Kezule,” she said. “They offered to secretly remove my egg and let it hatch in a growth tank while I pretended I was still carrying it. As one of the Royal family, in line to the Throne, that would be a treasonable act. Had we been caught, Kezule and I would have been executed and my child destroyed.”

“So he refused.”

“He had to; the price was to head the revolt and put him on the Throne as a puppet Emperor for M’zull.”

“I can see now why he left K’oish’ik so hurriedly,” Kusac murmured. He had a whole new perspective on Kezule to absorb. “But you said the TeLaxaudin altered you. How?”

“I have no idea. Even asking them to help was treasonable, but Kezule did that for me. Afterward, they threw him some kind of device they said they had used so he could do the same for the females on Kij’ik when we were there.”

“What did it do, exactly?”

“I said I have no idea, and I don’t.” She shrugged. “Maybe it changed me, maybe it changed the egg so it was smaller. When I checked myself, I could find no obvious changes, but Shoawomiss, the head of the TeLaxaudin here, said it would be a genetic change, not just for me but for my daughters as well.”

“So they have the technology to alter living tissue,” said Kusac, seeing the fear in her eyes, feeling it echoed in his. “Do I really have those extra organs, Zayshul?”

“Yes, you have them, against all reason, and they work as well as ours do.”

“And Shaidan?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper. His son, bred by the Directorate, bearing Valtegan genes and grown in a tube easily accessible by anyone wanting to alter him.

“He has them too. I found them when I had him scanned in the operating room after he’d been shot and his lung punctured.”

“You never told me.” It wasn’t an accusation.

“How could I? Your relationship was so very fragile to start with, I couldn’t harm it.”

“Thank you. It was probably the right decision at the time.”

“I remember more now. Like Kezule having memories of the far past of his ancestors that he didn’t possess before.”

“What did Kezule say about this? Did he notice?”

“No, and I haven’t mentioned it to him really. When I did once, he just shrugged it off. He’s different now, not as . . .” She searched for the word. “He doesn’t deal in absolutes any more; matters have shades of meaning now for him.”

“Shades of gray. Life is shades of gray, never black or white,” Kusac murmured.

Silence fell between them as the sky darkened into night and the air grew chiller.

“Do you find you have a habit of forgetting matters like this?” he asked at length.

“I don’t really know,” she said. “You told me once I had.”

“We have to record this somewhere where we can’t lose it,” he said decisively, standing up. “If we forget, we can look it up and remember.”

“How do we remember that we forgot?” she asked.

He gave a wry smile as she got to her feet. “That’s the flaw, isn’t it? I think it involves lights, but I’m not sure how. The memory is very hazy. I have to go. I’m having dinner with Shaidan tonight.”

He was conscious of her eyes watching him as he left, of her wanting—needing—some words of comfort that he was incapable of giving her because he could find no comfort for himself. As soon as he was in the corridor, he stopped and began recording a brief outline of what they thought on his wrist comm, praying he’d remember it was there.

Between one step and the next, time stretched infinitely, and when it stopped, his foot fell awkwardly, making him stagger slightly, leaving him with a distinct sense of unease and the feeling of a job only half completed.

 

After dinner, he tucked Shaidan up in his bed, leaving on a low-level light for him. His son spent every other night with him now. The need for them both to cling to each other was lessening with time and the return of Shaidan’s brothers and sisters. At last the cubs were learning to behave like children, with no worries for the future but when the next food treat or excursion to play in the river was coming. Mixing with the other Prime children had helped a lot.

With Jayza just across the hallway, Kusac felt confident it was safe to leave him alone in the suite for an hour or two while he went to talk to Conner.

The temple had been transformed, Kusac realized as soon as he set foot into it. Gone was the huge overpowering statue of the Emperor. In its place was a much smaller one, more life-sized, of a Prime female in a pale blue robe, standing with one hand on the neck of a young herd beast, and carrying a basket full of stalks of grain and vegetables.

Where the Royal statue’s pose had been rigid, this one was full of life. Her expression a gentle smile, She and the herd beast appeared as if caught in motion. There was a natural style to it that was totally different from any other statues or carvings he’d yet seen.

“Beautiful, isn’t She?” said Conner, coming out from behind the altar table placed in front of Her. “My new priests and priestesses found this one hidden in the sculpture studios over in the east wing. Apparently it’s some six hundred years old. She needed a new coat of paint, of course, but that was all.”

“It is beautiful,” he admitted. “Is it La’shol, their Fertility Goddess?”

“Indeed She is, but She has more in common with the Green Goddess for this world,” smiled Conner, holding his hand out in the Telepath greeting to Kusac.

Kusac returned the gesture. “I can see a resemblance to Ghyakulla,” he said, Kaid’s memory of the statue he’d seen in the cavern under Vartra’s Retreat coming to the forefront of his thoughts.

“She entrusted me with the task of returning Her worship to this poor, neglected planet and Her people. With Her help, they can rebuild and become again what She intended them to be.”

“Hmm,” said Kusac, dubiously. Then hurriedly, lest he be misunderstood, “I don’t doubt your mission, Conner . . .”

Conner laughed and put his hand briefly on Kusac’s shoulder. “You doubt that the Ghyakulla here had a good purpose for the Valtegans,” he said gently. “Come and see the rest of the temple. Have you noticed the wonderful hanging behind Her statue? Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Another recovered treasure?” asked Kusac, genuinely admiring the pastoral scene that depicted a lusher and more bountiful K’oish’ik than now existed.

“Actually, no. It’s new,” said Conner. “The ladies of the Court and the priestesses have worked this miracle in the few weeks since I came here, in thanks for their deliverance from K’hedduk.”

That did surprise him.

“Their souls were calling out in their need for something gentle and replenishing to worship, Kusac,” he said, a serious expression on his face. “Not that Zsurtul’s father was anything but a benign monarch, you understand, but especially after K’hedduk’s harsh rule, they needed something other than a ruler to worship and believe in.”

He nodded his understanding. “I see you’ve refreshed the water tank and made it more of a noticeable feature,” he said looking over to the ceiling-high tank that took up almost half the main wall of the temple.

“Yes. It’s endlessly fascinating, don’t you think?” he asked, drawing Kusac closer to it. “Look at the variety of creatures and plants that live there. Who’d have thought that such a rich variety of life could exist in a hot spring?”

Kusac watched the tiny silver fish darting about, then miniscule, almost transparent shrimplike creatures caught his attention. He moved closer, fascinated, looking to the bottom of the tank to see what else lived there.

“A microcosm of its own, isn’t it?” said Conner, placing a hand on the clear front. “Feel the heat of the water. The wonder of how they can exist at this temperature never fails to amaze me. Ghyakulla fills many niches with Her ever-more-wondrous creations.”

He placed his hand on the front, feeling the warmth for himself. “It’s almost blood temperature,” he said, surprised.

“Look at where the bubbles come from the oxygenator,” said Conner, pointing. “See how those little reptiles use them to hitch a ride up to the surface? “

“I see it,” he said. “Shaidan and the other cubs would love this.”

“Then you must bring them when you have time.”

“I will,” he said, turning reluctantly away from the tank. He’d found it soothing to watch the creatures, but he’d come here to talk to Conner, not to see the temple.

Conner gestured toward the nearby chairs, then sat, waiting patiently.

“I have fragmented memories, Conner,” Kusac said quietly. “Memories of needing to stay away from lights for some reason, of knowing I forget what I’ve found out about some threat to me . . . and others.”