Zero Recall (26 page)

But he was unwilling to
look at the Human, as half of him was still screaming for Joe to dance on his tek
for misleading him.  He had made his oath to a
slave.
  That made him a
slave’s
servant
.  Most Jreet would have killed themselves as soon as
they had found out.  That Daviin hadn’t, yet, was an act of cowardice in the
highest degree.

An uncomfortable sticky
feeling traveled down Daviin’s flesh as he considered that.  He was a coward as
well as Sentinel to a slave.  The Welus would thrive upon it, using it as a
war-cry in every battle for the next thousand turns. 

A Voran prince. 
Sentinel to a slave.

Daviin fisted his hands
and tried to put it out of his mind.  No one knew, yet.  The Human had told no
one.  Perhaps he could still get the Human to transfer his loyalties to some
Representative in Koliinaat.  Even the most honorless politician would be
better than a slave.

...Wouldn’t it?

His mind reeling, Daviin raised
his scales’ energy level and wove his way through the maze of the shuttle
staging area.  He found the one his team was to take and slipped inside. 
Daviin slid into an inconspicuous corner and coiled himself as tightly as he
could go.  He felt his internal organs grind against each other, but endured
the discomfort.  All he could think about was the Human’s scars.

Sentinel to a slave.

He’d been brooding for
over an hour before the door opened again.  The Ooreiki stepped inside first,
oblivious to Daviin’s presence.  He could tell it was the Ooreiki just by the
plodding sounds it made as it moved, but it was to Daviin’s benefit that none
of the creatures on his groundteam could hear his echolocating pings.

Galek sat down and began
making last-tic adjustments to his equipment.

The Baga came next,
alighting on the seat across from the Ooreiki.  The Grekkon followed, settling
in a corner across from Daviin, facing him directly.  Daviin had a brief fear
that the Grekkon could smell him, but the creature’s blank stare never
shifted.  In time, Daviin relaxed.

The Huouyt and the Human
did not follow them.

“Anyone care for dice?”
the Baga asked.  “Brought a set with me.”  He shook the miniature dicing cup,
rattling the ten-sided pieces inside.  Daviin’s interest piqued and his heart
rate increased despite himself—he loved a good game of dice.  Then he
remembered his predicament and his mood deteriorated again.  He needed to kill
something.

The Ooreiki lifted his
head.  Tentatively, he said, “I’ll play.”

“Good,” the Baga said. 
“What do you want to bet?”

“I don’t want to bet
anything,” Galek said.

“You have to bet
something, Ooreiki,” the Baga snapped.  “That’s the fun of it.”

“Let’s just do a
practice-run first,” Galek said, sounding cowed.  “I’m kind of rusty.”

The Baga gave a huge,
condescending sigh, and they began their contest, the sounds of their game
growing more intense with each rattle of the dice.  The Ooreiki was lucky.  He
won much more often than not.  Still, Daviin only half-listened to their game. 
He grew more and more agitated as the Huouyt and the Human failed to appear.

“You’re good at this,”
the Baga finally said.  “I thought I was good, but you’re whipping me like a
lazy Takki.”

A lazy Takki.
 
Daviin coiled tighter, humiliation grinding at his soul. 
Sentinel to a
slave.  How could I do this?

“I’m cheating,” the
Ooreiki admitted. 

“Cheating?”  There was a
curious note to the Baga’s voice.  “How?  I had these dice rigged myself.  I’m
the only one who knows the probabilities at which they should fall.”

“I can tell what fell in
your cup before you see it.”  If the Ooreiki was irritated with the Baga for
trying to cheat him, his voice didn’t show it.

“Oh?”  The Baga sounded
interested.

“Spatial awareness,”
Galek said.  Daviin heard him pick up the cup.  “Each side of the dice has a
different feel when it’s in your cup because of the amount of the surface has
been carved out with a symbol.  I’m just reading it like I’d read a Dhasha’s
den.”

For a long moment, the
Baga said nothing.  Then, finally, “I’ll have to find some painted dice.  Could
you read those?”

“No,” the Ooreiki said.

“Good.”  Then, after
another moment of silence, the Baga said in sudden excitement, “You think you
could do this in a professional setting?  Say, a Jahul gambling den?”

“I was blacklisted from
all professional casinos as soon as Congress diagnosed me,” Galek said
woefully.  “They won’t even let me step inside the door.”

“Damn,” Flea said.  “You
could’ve made a lot of money at that.”

“Still could.  Soldier’s
halls can’t ban me.  Wouldn’t feel right about it, though.  I always pick cards
so I have a fair chance of losing.”

“Cards, huh?  Only guys I
know who like cards are Jreet.  Now
there’s
somebody I’m looking forward
to relieving his accounts of a few credits.  I heard Jreet royals got more cash
than Aliphei himself, and are dumber than dirt to boot.”

“I don’t know,” Galek
said, sounding nervous.  Daviin pinged, and frowned when he realized the
Ooreiki was turned in his direction.  “There’s a reason they’re rich.”

“Sure there is,” Flea
went on.  “They kill off all their brothers and sisters so they only get one
inheritance.  Jreet are built for strangling and stabbing things, not for using
their heads.  I could take twenty thousand credits from him in less than a
night, easy.”

“I heard they kill
cheaters on Vora.”  Galek definitely sounded nervous.  Daviin heard him begin
twisting his wriggling brown fingers together again.

“Who said anything about
cheating?” the Baga said, his tone growing dangerous.  “I’m not stupid.  Do you
think I’m stupid, Ooreiki?”

“No,” Galek said
quickly.  “I’m just saying maybe it’d be dangerous to play with a Jreet.”

Flea scoffed.  “He’d just
hand over the money and never say a word to anybody.  As long as you beat them
fairly, you can take the scales right off their back and they’ll play you again
next time you ask.  Their honor won’t let them turn down a game.  Makes for
some pretty easy marks.  I love playing with Jreet.  Stupid oafs.”

Daviin tightened his
hands into fists and considered following the Human’s example.  The Baga could
use another attitude adjustment.

The Ooreiki continued
fidgeting nervously with his tentacles, the sound registering in Daviin’s mind
like leather ropes twisting together.  After a moment, the Ooreiki said, “Think
we should go see what’s keeping them?”

It took Daviin a moment
to realize the Ooreiki was talking to him.

Galek gently tried
again.  “What do you think?  They’re gonna miss the shuttle.”

“Who are you talking to?”
the Baga asked.

Daviin lowered his energy
level, allowing the world of light and color to once more flood into being
around him.  The Ooreiki was looking right at him, and as soon as their eyes
met, the Ooreiki lowered his gaze.  “You’re in charge, after Joe and Jer’ait.”

“How the hell did you…?”
the Baga said.  Then he hesitated, focusing his faceted, gemlike eyes on
Daviin.  “How long’s he been sitting there?”

“Long enough to challenge
you to a game of cards after we finish this hunt,” Daviin said.  “I can always
use another twenty thousand credits.”

The Baga’s faceted red
eyes glittered and Daviin was sure the insane little creature was smiling. 
“You’re on, Jreet.”

“They’re sure taking a
long time,” Galek said, just in time for the doors to open and the Human and
the Huouyt to step aboard. 

Jer’ait entered the ship
with barely a glance at Daviin, then moved to take a seat.  The Human, however,
stopped in the entrance to the shuttle, forcing the doors to stay open.  He
locked gazes with Daviin.  “Get out.”

Daviin did not move. 
“What?”

The Human narrowed its
eyes.  “You told me you got chipped.  Get out.”

Daviin stiffened.  “I
never said that.”

The Human’s brown eyes
were icy.  “
Did
you get chipped, Daviin?”

Faced with a direct
question, Daviin constricted.  “Jreet don’t get chipped.”

“Neither do Va’gan
Huouyt,” Jer’ait said, his eyes focused impassively on Daviin.

“All that trouble to get
Jer’ait under the knife and you never so much as made a peep about it,” Joe
said.  He looked enraged.  “I knew it was a bad idea to let you back on the
team.  Get out.  You’re not coming with us until you can learn to obey orders.”

“Jreet don’t get
chipped.” Daviin said, desperate.    That’s—” 
Humiliating.  Unmanning. 
Worse than being Sentinel to a slave.
  Lifting his head, Daviin said, “I’ll
obey any order you give me but that one.  I give you my word.”

The Human’s face cleared
instantly.  “Very well.  Then stay right here.”  He stepped inside and sat
down, levering his black Congie rifle onto his lap, relaxing completely.

Daviin had a sinking
feeling he knew what the Human meant.  He ducked his head in silence, knowing
he’d lost the fight.  He sat out the rest of the flight, listening carefully,
but adding nothing as the group discussed the elements of their plan.  They
were landing in an uninhabited area and were going to make a ground incursion
into enemy territory.  They’d picked a collapsed tunnel near a stream, so the
Huouyt had free access to water in case he needed to negate his patterns.  The
Grekkon would get them past the blockade.  From there, the Huouyt and the Baga
would infiltrate the tunnels and determine exactly what they were dealing with
while the Human and the Ooreiki guarded the digger.

Daviin, he noticed, with
a constriction of shame, was not given a part in the plan.

When the shuttle came to
a stop, Daviin lifted his head slightly as the Human stood up, but Joe stepped
off the ship without even glancing in Daviin’s direction.  The rest of the
group followed, leaving Daviin coiled in his corner.  Daviin watched the door
shut, fighting the urge to follow them anyway.  They were all going to die
without him.  He knew it like he knew the five of them would be the ones to get
him to the Vahlin.

But he had given his
word.

The Human had played an
underhanded game, but if Daviin got off the shuttle, he would lose every ounce
of respect he sought to gain. 

His duties as a Sentinel
warred with his duties as a grounder, which warred with his status as a Voran
warrior.  If he let the Human go without him, Daviin would not be able to protect
him.  The Human’s death would solve many problems, but it was the coward’s way
out.  Yet, if he followed, Joe would never trust him again.

And through it all, he
had the nagging reminder he was bound to a slave.  He was agonizing over the
respect of a
slave.

The very idea baffled and
angered him.  Had he grown so soft he actually
cared
what this slave
thought of him?

The simple answer was
yes.

Whatever the Human was
before, he was a warrior now.  Daviin wanted to earn the Human’s respect, and
he couldn’t do that by disobeying yet another order.  Though it pained him,
Daviin lowered his head back to his coil and closed his eyes.

The Ayhi protect them.

The shuttle’s engines
rumbled to life and the ship jerked.  Daviin ached inside, knowing he was
leaving his five companions to die.  He felt the shuttle roar back into the
sky.  Felt the jiggle as it lifted through atmosphere…

The door suddenly opened
and Galek stood there, sudah fluttering with anxiety in his neck.  “He says you
can come out now,” the Ooreiki said.

The sound of the engines
roaring through the door left Daviin momentarily confused, knowing they should
be in deep atmo by now.  It wasn’t until he saw the foliage in the background
that he realized that the shuttle hadn’t lifted off at all.  The engines were
blasting in neutral, aimed nowhere.  It had been a ruse. 

Daviin’s mouth fell open.

“Can you turn those off!”
Galek shouted at the tiny Ueshi pilots inside the cockpit.  The engines died,
leaving the world in a muted silence.  Tentatively, the Ooreiki said, “Are you
coming, Daviin?”

Hope flared with
suspicion in Daviin’s mind.  Was following the Ooreiki’s word considered taking
orders from the Human?  “I want to hear it from Joe,” Daviin said, wary of a
trick.

From behind the Ooreiki,
the Human shouted, “Get your ass out here, Jreet!  You have Dhasha to kill.”

Daviin slid out of his
coil, trying to hide his embarrassment.  Galek scrunched his face in a shy,
wrinkled Ooreiki smile, then jogged away from the shuttle.  Daviin followed
him, and when his eyes met the Human’s, he realized he’d passed some sort of
test.

And he was proud of it.

Ayhi save me,
Daviin thought, stunned as he stared at the Human’s soft, squishy face,
but
this bastard has the soul of a Jreet.

“Let’s get this show on
the road,” Joe went on.  “Daviin, I want you in inviso-mode the whole time. 
Since you’re not chipped, Flea’s wings will guide you.  No echolocation. 
Dhasha can hear it.”

The Human wanted him to
enter the tunnels blind and deaf, but Daviin merely nodded and complied.  The
Baga hovered somewhere near his eye-level and Daviin followed the sound of his
flight.  He found, to his surprise, that the high-frequency vibrations of the
Baga’s wings that he had found so annoying in the barracks gave him a decent
picture of his surroundings, if he could keep up.

“Galek, you’ve got the
eyes in this operation.  Take point.  They’ve got Takki combing these woods all
the time.  Flea, stay behind Scarab.  I want the Jreet at his back.  Jer’ait,
go do your thing.”

The Huouyt dropped down
to all fours—from the outline the Baga’s wings showed him, Daviin assumed he’d
taken the pattern of some sort of native creature—and disappeared into the
foliage.  The band began moving, and Daviin heard Joe drop back to walk beside
him.  They walked in silence for a moment, then the Human said, “Were you
really gonna stay on that shuttle?”