strongholdrising (59 page)

* * *

The rest of the day was busy. Off duty personnel worked on weapons and munitions, performing maintenance checks, running simulations. He ran command drills for each shift, making sure everyone understood not only their own controls and functions but each other's.
Everyone was exhausted when he finally stood them down. Putting the ship on auto and routing the controls to the mess, he gave the duty watch half an hour to take an extra meal break.
"Happier now?" asked Banner, balancing his tray in one hand as he slid into a seat opposite Chima.
"He's thorough," she admitted, taking a bite out of her spiced meat stick. "I haven't been worked so hard before a mission in a long time. Where'd he pick up all those skills? I'll swear he hasn't been in the Brotherhood anywhere near long enough."
"From Kaid. They're sword-brothers as well as Triad partners."
"I knew Kaid was training him up at Stronghold, but I hadn't realized they'd taken the oath," she said, watching him. "Unusual, considering there's Carrie."
"I told you, never make assumptions," grinned Banner, trying to stab one of the meat balls on his plate.
"Perhaps I owe you an apology. Just don't let it complicate what's at stake here."
Banner looked up, no trace of a smile on his face. "It simplifies it."
"Score one to you," she acknowledged quietly.

* * *

Ears closed and flattened to his skull, he let the hot water beat down over his head and shoulders, feeling the tension gradually leave him. He knew when Banner let himself into the room.
Reaching for the soap dispenser, he squeezed some into his hand and began to massage his hair vigorously. He was almost done when Banner came into the bathing room.
"Want a hand?" Banner called out over the sound of the water. "You got the only Sholan cabin with a shower."
He hesitated, aware his torc was within easy reach and decided to leave it where it was. "If you want," he said diffidently, moving to one side of the cubicle.
"Ah, pure luxury," said Banner, stepping into the shower. Tilting his ears to the side, he lifted his face up to the multijet outlets, running his hands over his ears and down the back of his head. He leaned his hands against the wall, twisting his shoulders under the powerful stream. "I spent three hours crawling underneath one of the magazines, checking the damned thing out because it was sticking," he said, arching his back to relieve the last of the kinks. "You have no idea how good this is!"
"Here's the soap," said Kusac, passing it to Banner as he turned around and braced his arms against the rear wall. As Banner rubbed the soap deep into his pelt in a series of circular motions, he clenched his jaw, tensing his whole body in concentration, trying to cut out his awareness of his Second's emotions.
After a few minutes, Banner stopped. "If you'd rather leave it, that's all right, I won't be offended. You're not enjoying this, are you?"
"I have my torc off," he said, resting his head on his outstretched arm. "It isn't easy."
He felt Banner lean against him for a moment, hands resting on his shoulders, mutely offering him comfort. When his Second moved, the full force of the jets hit his back.
"Put your torc back on, Kusac," Banner said. "That's long enough for the first time, especially when it was such a sustained contact."
He straightened up, reaching out to retrieve his torc from the bottom of the soap rack. Twisting the finials apart, he slipped it round his neck. The relief was instantaneous. As his muscles relaxed involuntarily, he stumbled, grabbing at the wall to stop himself from falling over. A hand caught him and the water stopped abruptly.
"You're clean," Banner said, helping him out of the shower and bundling him into a towel.
"I'm fine," he said, refusing to move when the other tried to urge him toward the bedroom. "The torc takes control very suddenly, that's all. You finish your shower."
"Are you sure?" Banner asked, reaching out to take hold of his face and turn it to the light so he could see his eyes.
He clasped his hand firmly over Banner's, removing it. His Second's gesture reminded him of Kaid, and that was one wound too sore to probe right now. "I know how the torc works. This is normal, and temporary. Go finish your shower."

* * *

He toweled the worst of the dampness off before putting on his bathrobe and fetching a mug of coffee from the dispenser. He was sitting up in bed drinking it when Banner emerged wearing his own robe.
"I appreciate the invitation to bunk in here, Kusac. I hope you don't mind but I brought my kit with me," he said, coming over. "You should have told Father Lijou what was happening to you before you left. I'm sure he'd have spoken to Rhyaz and set the mission back a few days."
"I decided when to leave," he said, feeling the sharp pain of his fresh loss. He'd hidden it quite successfully from himself until now. "I couldn't stay on Shola any longer," he added, seeing the other's curious look.
"I'd heard you and Kaid had a blazing row."
He pulled his knees up until he could wrap his arms around them, as if holding himself tight could help contain the grief. He thought he'd been doing well last night. Obviously he hadn't. "I don't see how anyone could know," he said, his voice husky. "It happened out at his place. Only the three of us and T'Chebbi were there."
"It was how you looked when you came back," said Banner, squatting on the end of the bed. "Maybe talking about it will help."
"No. Not now."
"What did Kzizysus do to you, Kusac?" Banner asked. "You were never this haunted by the past before he operated on you."
There was so much he couldn't tell anyone about what they'd done to him. He knew some of it, but there were a great many questions they'd refused to answer.

PART 2
WAKING

Valsgarth Estate, Zhal-Oeshi, 28th day (August)
"PHRATRY Leader," said Kzizysus, clasping his hands respectfully in front of his mandibles before entering Annuur's lounge. Through the transparency of the bulkhead, he could see dawn breaking. "You asked for consultation."
"Enter, Kzizysus," said Annuur, sitting upright on his couch to make a gesture of greeting to the TeLaxaudin doctor. "Growth of blood samples from Kusac taken when he had his fever show my bio-component has been effective. Fully sensitized by now he is. Neurological messages unhindered travel to regulator as we wish. New bio-component for final procedure is ready. What is your status?"
Kzizysus stalked over to the couch nearest the Cabbarran and, climbing up onto it, folded himself up comfortably. "Tests of converters and regenerators unnecessary," he said, large eyes regarding his superior carefully. "Have sample jeggets if Sholans wish to examine. All trace of procedure excreted from them, nothing will be found to show how was done."
Annuur's mobile top lip curled back as he smiled in pleasure. "Is good. And you have prepared enough nano-converters and regenerators for him?"
"Yes, Phratry Leader," he said. "When combined with your new bio-component, is ready. Regulator device for torc need to adjust. Toueesut must have in torc while we operate. Next day torc must be ready to wear or possibly calamitous for all. Once access to full abilities obtained, must be control, must learn use regulator. For treatment, two days be isolated from everyone but us. Three days here to relearn skills. Five days in all. Will perhaps be periods of violence and frustration. Need others of his species for restraint."
"We use your children to restrain him. Captain Tirak is ideal. We are lucky. Great loyalty to me he has, will do as we ask and keep own counsel. Also is trusted by Sholans."
"I do the Camarilla's will," said Kzizysus, once more making the gesture of respect with his delicate hands. "When is our work to be done?"
"Today. Will be much excitement here when known son of Jo and Rezac being born. This will divert them from us for one day at least. You did well saving her and child on
Kz'adul
. Not easily accomplished at short notice."
Kzizysus chirred with pleasure. "As I have told you, my only regret is I could do nothing to help you and your Rryuk family."
"You did much. When Camarilla relayed my distress call to you, you ensured Prime ship
Kz'adul
came for us. Plot of Emperor's counselor could not be known to us. You did well, Kzizysus."
Seeing Annuur in such a benign mood, he ventured more. "A question, Phratry Leader. How came about these hybrids? I am not privy to knowledge of the Camarilla, but I know history of U'Churians. Which of us developed these Human and Sholan cubs? Whose children are they?"
"Not for you to ask, Kzizysus," Annuur said sharply. "Go prepare for surgery, combine our treatments. I will call Tirak and tell him to bring Kusac here."
the
Couana,
Zhal-S'Asha, 22nd day (October)
"It began just before the end of Zhal-Oeshi," he said quietly. "After my fever, Kaid had us moved to larger quarters so he could look after me, but you know that."
"I know you were extremely ill," said Banner. "They were afraid you might die. That's why they sent for Kzizysus."
He nodded. Much of it was a blur, but there were moments when he remembered the aftermath of the fever. He'd wake in the deep of the night, still held in the jaws of the nightmares, clinging terrified to the one who slept beside him, not caring who it was, just that someone was there for him.
"When the need is there,"
he murmured. His Triad had been there for him. Kaid had been there.
"After the fever," prompted Banner gently.
Valsgarth Estate, Zhal-Oeshi, 28th day (August)
Kaid's wrist comm buzzed gently, waking them both. While his friend took the call, he lay there, unwilling to move, glad of their shared warmth in the chill predawn air.
Finished, Kaid rolled away from him and sat up. "It's Kzizysus. He and Annuur have found a procedure that will work on you. They want to see you now."
Still more than half asleep, he barely heard what Kaid was saying. A hand grasped his shoulder and shook him gently.
"Wake up, Kusac. We've got to get over to the estate. Kzizysus has found a cure for you."
He opened his eyes, blinking owlishly. "What?"
Kaid sighed. "Get up. Jo's having her cub. Rezac needs our support."
"Rezac? Oh, right," he said, rubbing his eyes and attempting to sit up. His head felt thick this morning; it was harder than usual to focus on anything.
"Hold on a moment," said Kaid, leaning over to untangle him from the sheet. "Try now."
He shivered as he got up, reaching hurriedly for his tunic and hauling it on. Stumbling across the room, he opened his chest and pulled out one of his black robes.
"What?" he asked, turning round as he fought his arms into the sleeves. There was a puzzled look on Kaid's face. "I'm cold," he said, shivering again as he pulled his robe closed and fastened the tie belt.
"You'll be too hot in a couple of hours," said Kaid patiently, putting on his own tunic then going to get his coat from the hook on the door. "These freak dawn winds from the sea usually lift by sunup. Don't forget your utility belt."
"I thought this would be over now we've found Vartra's tomb," he said.
"Lijou says it should be soon. It takes time for the Entities to be persuaded to open Their realms again. Even Vartra can't do it overnight."
Crossing back to his side of the bed, he scrabbled on the floor for it, finally finding it actually under the bed.
Muttering fretfully, he fastened it over the top of the narrow tie belt. It was uncomfortable, and he began tugging at it, trying to center it. Kaid's hand closed round his arm.
"It's fine," he said. "Come on, we have to leave."
As they reached the main lobby, the smell of food penetrated his sleep-fogged mind. "Hungry," he said, heading toward the kitchens with the single-mindedness of a sleepwalker.
Kaid lunged after him. "No," he said, steering him toward the exit. "We're going home, remember?"
"Oh, yes. Jo and Rezac. We'll eat there, though, won't we?" he yawned, wishing he could shake off his tiredness.
"Yes, we'll eat at home."
Their aircar was parked round the back. Nodding to the guards huddled in their winter coats, they threaded their way through the vehicles till they reached it. He waited patiently, smothering more yawns until Kaid opened the door.
"This is your worst morning yet," said Kaid as he started up the aircar. "I'm beginning to get concerned about you. At least you're seeing Kzizysus today."
"I'm fine," he yawned, reclining his seat and trying to curl up in it. "What's this about Kzizysus? I seem to remember you mentioned him earlier."
"He's been working on a procedure to help you. Tirak called Carrie to say he was ready to try it out."
He tried to make sense of the words but his mind refused to concentrate on anything.
"Kusac? Did you hear me?"
"I heard you," he mumbled, closing his eyes and letting the comfortable warm feeling inside his head spread through his limbs.
"Well?" asked Kaid, glancing across at him.
"I need to speak to Carrie," he mumbled.
"You're not thinking of turning him down, are you?"
He couldn't think of anything right now. "Let me sleep," he said. "I'm tired."

* * *

Kaid was shaking him again. "We're here, Kusac."
Stretching and yawning, he sat up, returning the chair to an upright position. "That's Annuur's shuttle," he said. "I thought you'd be landing at the villa."
"I told you, Kzizysus is ready to..."
"But I'm not," he interrupted quietly. "I'm not, Kaid. I need time to think this through. Take me home, please."
Kaid looked at him. "If that's what you want," he said, starting up the aircar again.

* * *

Carrie was waiting for them.
"You shouldn't have called her," he said, getting up out of his seat. "There's no need to make an issue out of it. I just want some time to think, that's all."
"What's to think about?" asked Kaid, turning round to stop him. "This is what we've all been praying for, a chance for you to get your life back."
"It's not that simple any more, Kaid," he said softly, pulling away from him. "There's more to it than you think." He turned and, opening the door, jumped down to the ground.
"I was expecting to meet you down by Annuur's shuttle," said Carrie, reaching out to greet him.
Time slipped back and he saw her not as she was now, but as she'd been when she was carrying their cub, Kashini. He swept her into his arms, holding her close, just breathing in her scent. To have his old life back, his Talent again...But he could never regain his old life. She was Kaid's Leska now, even though this far into her pregnancy, her own Talent was sleeping because of her unborn cub.
"Gods, I love you so much, Carrie," he whispered, almost crushing her in his need to hold her close.
Her hands closed round his face, pulling it up from her shoulder so she could kiss him with all the fierceness he'd missed. His torc vibrated gently, letting him hear the sounds of her mind.
Slowly, their lips parted. "You aren't going to..."
He touched his lips to hers again, silencing her before letting her go. "Thank Kzizysus, but say I need time to think about it. I'll let him know as soon as I can."
She nodded slowly.
"Stop looking so worried," he said, flicking her cheek with his fingers. "I'm only going to walk in the garden, nothing more, I promise. You take Kaid to Jo and Rezac. They need your company more than I do right now."
He left her there and headed toward the small stream that ran through their land, thankful that the cold wind had indeed gone. The presence of open water had always helped him relax and concentrate. Right now, his mind seemed to slide away from anything that wasn't of the moment.
The sound of running water chuckling and gurgling as it tumbled over its bed of stones came to meet him as he got closer to the stream. Almost immediately, he could feel its soothing influence touching something deep inside him. Across the Nazule Bay, he could see the brassy disk of the sun beginning to clear the horizon. As he headed inland along the bank of the stream, the day's heat began to build.
He had a particular spot in mind, where the stream usually widened, its flow slowing as it formed a pool overshadowed by the trailing branches of trees. Last year he'd picnicked there several times with Carrie. It was just inside the woodland that marked the original boundaries of the villa's land.
He stopped at the edge of the clearing. Someone was already there, crouched on his haunches at the edge of the pool. Beside him lay the silver bodies of three medium-sized fish.
Moving quietly off the path, he concealed himself behind a group of trees and waited.
The stranger sat as still as if carved in wood, casting no shadow on the pool's gently moving surface. Forearms resting on his knees, body tilted slightly toward the water, he watched and waited. Suddenly, he plunged his arm into the pool, flicking a silver shape high into the air. Sunlight glinted off silver scales and droplets of water as the fish arced upward, flipping over and over before falling slowly downward again to land on the bank beside the other three.
"I've caught our first meal. I think it only fair you should cook it."
Startled, he looked back at the stranger. He'd been so focused on watching the fish that he'd forgotten the fisherman.
"This is private land," he said, stepping out from behind his cover. Head bent, the stranger was gutting his catch on a large, flat stone.
"I know. You aren't going to let that bother you, are you? No one's going to miss four fish that didn't belong to them anyway."
Now he was in the clearing, he could smell the fire.
"I know how to set a fire safely," said the stranger before he could speak. "Anyone ever told you that you worry too much?"
"Who are you?" he asked, hand resting on his pistol butt as he advanced on him. "What are you doing on my land?"
"Making a meal for you. Forget your weapon, you won't need it," he said, looking up. "I'm no threat to you."
The fisherman's body was totally relaxed, no sign of tension, even in the set of his ears or the tail that lay still against his ankles; he wasn't prepared for trouble. There was something familiar about him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Deciding to trust his instincts for now, he walked around him and squatted down on the other side of the small fire.
"Here," the stranger said, passing him four long greenwood sticks. "Put the fish over the fire to grill."
Putting the sticks on the ground, he reached out for the first of the gutted fish. Small slits had been cut in the sides for him to push the stick through, and a makeshift rack had been set up on either side of the fire. He pushed the fish onto the middle of the stick then balanced it across the rack.
He was reaching for the last one when the stranger caught hold of his wrist, turning his hand over, revealing the still tender scars that ran the length of his palm.
"Ah, bonding scars. You were thorough. Perhaps it was a new marriage?" The fisherman looked up at him briefly, his thumb stroking gently over the scars. "No, an oath. It was important to you."
He pulled his hand away. "My business," he said sharply. "You've told me nothing about yourself."
"It's been a long time since I went fishing," said the stranger, mouth opening in a grin as he reached across for the remaining stick and threaded the last fish onto it. "I used to enjoy fishing when I was younger."
"Who are you?"
"A friend," he said, then pointed to the fire. "I'd check your meal if I were you. Sounds like they need turning."
He hadn't been aware of the gentle hissing and spitting coming from the fish until then. To his surprise, he found they did need turning. Hot juices splattered his fingers, making him wince and yelp as he attempted to turn them. With much blowing and sucking of his fingers, he finally accomplished it.
The stranger sat there laughing gently at his antics.
"What the hell are you burning in that fire?" he demanded, turning around to swill his tingling fingers in the pool. "I've never known food to cook so quickly!"
"Just wood." Leaning forward, the fisherman flipped the last fish over and sniffed audibly. "Smells good. Nothing quite like eating food you've caught and prepared yourself, is there?"
"I'd have liked it better if it hadn't burned me," he replied caustically, taking his fingers out of the water and wiggling them experimentally.
"Have you ever gone fishing?"
"Once or twice, but not like this, without a line or net."
"And cooked like this?" The stranger gestured to his fire and the grilling fish.
"I haven't."
"If you'd stayed in your garden, we wouldn't have met and your fingers wouldn't be singed. But here we are, trying something new. Worth a couple of lightly broiled fingers, don't you think?"
"I did cook like this once," he said, suddenly remembering. "When I met my life-mate. We were on Keiss, her world. I hunted for chiddoelike creatures and baked them in clay."
"So you have an adventurous side," the stranger said, reaching for two large leathery leaves. Taking two of the fish off the fire and placing them on one leaf, he deftly pulled the sticks free. "And you weren't burned that time." He held the leaf out to him.
"How d'you know that?" he demanded, accepting the rustic meal.
"You'd have mentioned it."
The smell was mouthwatering. He didn't care that the fish couldn't possibly have been cooked so quickly, they smelled as if they were. Putting the leaf on the ground in front of him, he extended his claws and carefully spread the fish open. Pulling off a few flakes, he nibbled them experimentally. They tasted as good as they smelled. He picked up the leaf and began to eat, keeping his eyes on the stranger.
"You're so suspicious. Why can't you just accept something good when it's offered to you?"
The conviction that there was something familiar about the stranger was growing stronger, but his hunger demanded to be satisfied.
"Nothing comes free," he said, scooping up more. "There's always a sting of some kind."
"Not always. This, for instance." The fisherman's gesture took in the campfire and them. "This is pleasant. I'm enjoying talking to you as much as I'm enjoying the food."
"Your point being?" He scraped up the last morsels before putting the leaf down and beginning to lick his fingers clean.
"Life is full of risks. There are no certainties, no guarantees. To achieve anything worthwhile, you have to take risks. You don't always burn your fingers."
He removed his fingers slowly from his mouth, looking carefully at the stranger, taking in the brown tunic, the tan pelt and tall thin ears— all features typical of one with desert tribal ancestry. "I know you from somewhere," he said. "We've met before, haven't we?"
"Once or twice, but I hate formality. I've enjoyed getting to know you like this." In one fluid move, the stranger got to his feet. "I have to go now, but before I do, remember one thing, Kusac. You have only one choice to make today. To be yourself. Everything else will follow because each of you is bound to the others by oaths, by blood, and by love. Trust that strength in your Triad to see you through what lies ahead."
"Wait!" he called out, leaping to his feet as the stranger turned and began to walk down the path. He ran after him, turning the corner to collide with Kaid.
"Where'd he go?" he demanded as Kaid grabbed hold of him.
"Who?"
"The male who just went round the corner!"
"No one came round the corner, Kusac."
"He must have," he said, pulling free to run a short way down the empty path. He ground to a halt, looking round frantically, but even the dry scrubland on either side of the path was empty. Turning round, he went slowly back to Kaid. "I don't understand it. He
was
here. He was fishing in the pool. We cooked and ate the fish he'd caught."
He saw the disbelieving look on Kaid's face and pushed past him. "I'll prove it," he said. "The fire's still there."
"The stream's too low for fish because of the drought," Kaid called out after him.
The clearing was empty, with no scent or sign of a fire. "I don't understand," he said, looking round in bewilderment. "He
was
here." He bent down, scratching at the sun-baked earth where the fire had been, but there was nothing— no ashes, no heat in the ground except the heat of the sun beating down through the parched leaves of the trees overhead.
Kaid stepped past him, walking over to the side of the shallow pool. Stooping, he picked something up from the water margin.
"What is it?" he asked, looking over at him.
"A flower," said Kaid. "A nung flower." He held it out to him. "You've been gone three hours, Kusac, that's why I came to fetch you."
"Impossible!" he said, taking the still fresh flower from him. "Half an hour at most."
"Check the sun's position when we leave the clearing."