Between Darkness and Light (15 page)

The officer saluted and left.

“Very well, Kusac, I'm listening,” said Kezule, turning to look at him.

“You can't run this Outpost as an exclusively military base. You're terrifying your civilian population.”

“They'll get used to it,” said Kezule, pulling out his chair and sitting down at the desk.

“Will they? They're Primes, Kezule. Pacifists incapable of fighting. You're their only experience of the military,” he said, coming farther into the room. “My bet is they didn't sign up for a life in basic camp, but for something that was more intellectually challenging. They'll only be happy playing soldiers for a time, then they'll become dissatisfied and scared, want to go home, and that'll infect your Warriors. Your leadership will be seen as weak, able to be physically challenged—and you know where that'll lead.”

“Go on. You've caught my interest.”

“Separate the two groups. Run the civilian side as a community with a stake in its own future. Have them elect their own ruling council and make up their own set of laws. All of the females apart from two are civilians. You need them to create the next generation. Keep them happy and they'll build a community, it's what females do—bear young, nurture them, make friends, communicate with each other. You're a General, you know how to deploy troops; let the females do what they do best. Make it their mission.”

“Zayshul said something similar,” Kezule said, watching him thoughtfully. “What guidelines should I give them?”

“How many are there?”

“About forty. We're seventy-four in all. I brought the M'zullians only because I can control them, the Primes can't. They weren't any part of my original plan.”

“Tell them to choose about ten of their number for a ruling council and let them take it from there. I suggest you let your troops know they have to obey the civilian laws too. Have your military people got separate quarters from the civilians?”

The General nodded. “They're on the port side. You're quartered there next to most of my officers for your own safety, as I said. The M'zullians are under surveillance on the starboard side. Don't turn your back on them, Kusac, even I don't trust them. They've enough intelligence to be dangerous. I don't know why your people had no trouble from the twenty on Shola.”

He shrugged, a very Human gesture. “We were living on the Warrior Guild estate, among several hundred other students who looked to us as their superiors. It breeds an atmosphere of learning. We also gave them challenging leisure activities, team games and such, building a need for interdependence in them.”

“My own training emphasized individual attainment,” Kezule murmured, his eyes taking on a distant look for a moment. “Thank you. And, Kusac, I appreciate you taking your job seriously.”

“You're letting me see my son,” he said, turning to leave.

“Kusac, we could make this process much quicker if you'd allow us to do a mental scan of your mind and have sleep tapes made. It would give a few of my officers your knowledge and experience of different alien cultures.”

“No,” he said shortly. “I'm not letting your medics near me. They did too much damage the last time.”

“You forget Doctor Zayshul saved your life,” Kezule said gently. “It's not an invasive procedure. They just connect you to a scanner.”

“Forget it, Kezule. Don't you trust me?” His voice held a hint of sarcasm.

“About as far as you trust me, Kusac,” Kezule replied. “You should consider it, for your son's sake.”

“I should have expected you to try and renege on our deal,” he said slowly, turning to face the General again. A scan was impossible. They'd realize almost immediately that he had his Talent back.

“I'm not,” said Kezule. “M'kou will come for you after your afternoon session. I can't force you to have a scan, Kusac. An unwilling subject would be useless. Just consider it.”

“You've had my answer,” he said, turning back to the door. “Don't bother mentioning it to me again.”

“Captain,” said M'kou as Kusac joined him just before the end of the day. “I'm to take you down to the Command level. Shaidan's waiting for you in one of the small offices with Doctor Zayshul. The General thought that today you might like to eat your evening meal with him.”

“With Kezule and Doctor Zayshul?” he asked as they stopped beside the guard at the elevator.

“No, only Shaidan, Captain. The General promised you that time alone together,” M'kou reminded him as the elevator door opened and they stepped inside.

He said nothing, suddenly aware of the tension in his stomach. “What's Shaidan like?” he asked abruptly. “Is there a child under all that programming?”

M'kou looked at him in surprise. “I can't answer that, Captain,” he said. “I've only known Gaylla.”

Kusac looked at him. “Gaylla?”

“A little gray-colored cub that the Directorate was going to have killed because she was slower than the others,” said M'kou as the doors opened again. “The General asked for her, pretending that he wanted her as a pet. She was delivered to us several days before we raided the Directorate to rescue the others.” M'kou gestured to his left. “This way, Captain.”

“Asked for her? How could he ask them for her?”

“The conspirators took the General forcibly to their headquarters in an attempt to recruit him to their cause. That's where he met all the cubs for the first time, how he knew they existed.”

Kezule must have known then who Shaidan was, yet he'd asked for Gaylla. That did surprise him. “What did he do with her?”

“Nothing, Captain. Doctor Zayshul deprogrammed her first.” He glanced sideways at Kusac as they came to a halt outside a door. “She and the Doctor were very fond of each other, Captain. Gaylla followed her everywhere. Doctor Zayshul was most upset when she had to leave with you.”

He remembered the way Gaylla and Zayshul had hugged each other when it had come time to leave. “And Shaidan? How does she treat him?”

“Like a mother, Captain,” he replied before opening the door.

 

“You must remember to use your own language when speaking to your father,” Zayshul was telling Shaidan. “Do you remember what we talked about earlier? About families and parents?”

“Yes, Doctor,” Shaidan said as he continued to laboriously copy the Sholan writing he'd been given.

“You may answer any questions the Captain asks you,” said Kezule from where he stood by the door.

Shaidan looked up at the General, wondering if he was being told he could choose not to answer, but the Valtegan's back was turned to him so he couldn't read his expression. He bent his head back to his writing, wishing he didn't have to meet the Captain. If not for him, he'd be helping the General in his office, or following him around the Outpost as he visited all the workstations. That was far more useful than copying Sholan writing.

The door chimed then slid open. He didn't need to look up to know who it was, he could smell their scents immediately.

“Good evening, Kusac,” the General said. “I've set this room aside for you and Shaidan to use. It has a meal dispenser as you can see. M'kou will come back for him in two hours. Please don't leave the room, this level is off-limits to you and your crew. If you need anything, ask the guard on duty outside and he'll attend to it for you. Zayshul, it's time to leave.”

Shaidan watched the Doctor getting up out of the corner of his eye.

“Remember what I told you, Shaidan,” she said quietly, leaning over him. “Answer the Captain's questions properly.”

“I'd like Doctor Zayshul to stay for a few minutes,” Shaidan heard the Captain say.

“Another time, Captain. I promised you two hours alone with your son. You wouldn't want me to break my word on your first visit, would you? Zayshul, now, please.”

As the door closed behind them, suddenly he felt very alone. Without moving his head, he glanced up through his eyelashes at the newcomer. Dark-furred and dressed from head to foot in a long, purple-edged black robe, the Sholan Captain was an imposing presence in the small room. Gripping his stylus more tightly, Shaidan concentrated on his writing again.

The Captain came round to his side of the desk and pulled back the chair beside him, the one the Doctor had been using, and sat down.

“Hello, Shaidan.” His voice was low and pleasant.

He ignored the Captain because an answer wasn't required.

“Has the General told you who I am?” the Captain asked after several minutes' silence.

“You're Captain Aldatan, my father,” he replied grudgingly.

“That's right. And do you know why I'm here?”

“No.”

“So we can get to know each other.”

The silence grew again and Shaidan began to hope that he might decide to leave. Suddenly the stylus was plucked out of his hand. Startled, he looked up.

“I want to talk to you, Shaidan,” the Captain said quietly, putting the stylus on the desk out of his reach. “What're you doing?”

“Learning to write Sholan.”

“What are you copying?” The Captain picked up his reader and looked at it.

“An article about Shola from your database.”

“Annual rainfall. Not very interesting, is it? I'm sure it can wait until later.” The reader joined the stylus. “This meeting isn't easy for either of us, Shaidan,” continued the Captain, reaching out to turn his chair around so they were facing each other. “But it will get easier if we both make an effort. I see you're wearing a psi-damping collar. Does the General take it off so you can practice?”

“I know how to use my Talent. I don't need to practice.”

“Who taught you?”

“I've always known.” He wished he didn't have to answer such pointless questions but the General and the Doctor had said he must.

There was a short silence before the Captain spoke again. “Do you get a chance to use it often?”

“I use it when the General tells me to do so.”

“When does he do that? Who does he ask you to read?”

Shaidan lifted his face and looked him square in the eyes. “When he pleases, and it's been to read you.”

The Captain reacted only with the barest of nods, as if he was expecting that answer. “And what do you read from me?”

“Very little. Your mind is quieter than anyone's, except for the TeLaxaudin.”

Once more the Captain nodded then sat back in his chair. “It came as a shock to me to discover I had a son I knew nothing about,” he said quietly. “I expect it was as much of a shock for you.”

Shaidan said nothing as he tried to suppress a flash of anger. The Captain was nervous, Shaidan could smell it in his scent, even though it was very faint. He felt a grudging respect for him. Most Primes wouldn't have been able to control their scent so well.

He's Sholan like you, Shaidan,
the General had said.
Learn about him, learn how to read his body language, his expressions, the tone of voice he uses. Learn what it is to be Sholan, because when you understand a species, you know their strengths and weaknesses.

He looked at the Captain properly this time, taking in the black robe with its wide sleeves, the black-furred hands lying on his lap just below the belt with its many pouches, and the black-handled dagger over the left hip. Looking higher, he saw the long dark hair framing an oval face from which eyes as amber as his own regarded him steadily.

“I've come to take you home with me when I leave, Shaidan. You have two sisters. The older one is called Kashini, and the younger was born as I left Shola. I don't yet know her name. You'll meet them when I take you home. Meanwhile, as I said, we have to get to know each other, form a bond.”

“I belong here, with the General!” he blurted out. “Not with you! I have value to him!”

“You have value to me.
We
belong together. You're my son. There's a bond of blood between us,” said the Captain, leaning forward and taking hold of his hands. “You know there is, I saw you recognize it last night.”

He snatched his hands away, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar emotions rushing through him. “I belong to the General, not you! I'm his vassal, I have value to him! You can't take me away from here, he won't let you!” He was afraid, and finding it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. Anger at this strange alien male whose arrival had turned his life upside down surged through him. “You're not my father! I don't have one! You mean nothing to me!”

The Captain leaned forward, grasping him by the shoulders this time, making him feel trapped. “You're not a slave, Shaidan! Sholans are a free people, no one owns them!” The hands tightened their grip and the Captain's glowing eyes seemed to grow larger. “The General brought me here because of you. Don't tell me you can't feel we're connected because I know you can. What you feel is blood calling to blood. Your mind might try to deny it, but your body—your instincts—know we're related.”