Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (46 page)

His eyes widening, Tauthin stared at his blind counterpart. “What harm have they done to her?”

“She has been set as an example to the rest of the crew as to the price of defiance.”

Tauthin snarled. “Against Uladek or against Nagogg?”

The blinded elite spat. “Are they not one in the same?” He motioned to the tray of calunod. “Eat, quickly.” Doing as he was told, Tauthin knelt by the tray, grabbing a handful of the slimy substance and bringing it to his lips. With his very first bite, he closed his eyes and exhaled with vigor. Kraash-nagun continued. “Why is this female of such importance to you? She is of no outward value.”

“Ironic words when spoken by one who is blind,” Tauthin answered, bits of calunod dripping from his teeth. “It is not the outward that binds me to her. Her spirit is one of compassion.”

“I sense only cowardice.”

Tauthin scoffed. “She is away from her planet and alone, tortured and brought to shame. Which one of us would not play the coward in such a state?” Lowering his head again, he voraciously consumed another piece. “Setana is like soft wind against sun-scorched skin. I have met no other capable of such compassion, even to those she would call enemy.” He snarled. “Wuteel should know this, for she tended to him on the battlefield after his capture. His treachery is worse than Nagogg’s.”

Laughing with a single breath, Kraash-nagun lowered to a crouch. “Wuteel is also a coward. He is not so devout as he would wish Nagogg to believe.”

“I presume the same would be said about you, or you would be hanging by my side in this chamber.” Kraash-nagun’s sockets narrowed as Tauthin continued. “What is your intention?”

Feeling down to the tray, Kraash-nagun claimed a piece of calunod for himself, ripping a chunk of it off with his jagged teeth before answering, “We know nothing of the Akaarist. It is a foolish quest on the part of Nagogg.”

“It is not foolish in the eyes of a zealot.”

“Nonetheless, it is foolish,” said Kraash-nagun. “He places this entire vessel in danger to appease his god.”

Several seconds of silence passed. Kraash-nagun’s sockets aimed down at the tray while Tauthin consumed his final piece. As soon as he finished swallowing, Tauthin exhaled in finality. “Maintain your guise, Kraash-nagun. You will be exalted on Khuldaris, regardless of what you truly believe. My time to exist has come and gone.”

Kraash-nagun lifted his head to face Tauthin. “You can still feign repentance. There are some who would accept you.”

“Nagogg would not,” Tauthin answered, “and his is the only voice this crew hears.
Uladek speaks
,” he said mockingly. “That is what they believe comes out of his mouth. I will die by his hand. There is no escape.”

“And Setana?”

Grunting in disgust, Tauthin looked away. “She will not be regarded as a boon. The Khuladi already possess Earthae females. She will be isolated for breeding and little else.”

Kraash-nagun’s head lowered. “What you say is true.”

“Encourage them to lend her mercy. That is all I can ask.”

The chamber fell quiet as the two Bakma stayed face-to-face. At long last, Kraash-nagun rose. “I applaud you for what were your intentions. We were close to being free.”

Shaking his head, Tauthin answered, “We were never so close as we hoped.” Staring down at the tray, which had several pieces of calunod still atop it, he said, “Bring what remains to Setana. She deserves better than to eat from a trough.”

Kraash-nagun acknowledged.

No further words were said between the two. Returning to his spot on the wall, Tauthin set himself in position for the clasps to be reattached. With Ei’dorinthal’s assistance, the magnets engaged.

Seconds later, the Ithini and Kraash-nagun exited the chamber.

*
      
*
      
*

Svetlana’s fingers disappeared beneath Mishka’s bristly, brown fur, her nails running down the side of the canrassi’s head just behind its ears. She had been doing that since the beast had finished its meal, whispering its name all the while in an effort to elevate their relationship from master-and-slave to that of a companionship. Mishka seemed happy to oblige, whatever predatory inclinations it had initially possessed having been curbed almost instantaneously upon Svetlana’s addressing it in Bakmanese. The beast had been trained to listen well. Perhaps too well—at least for Nagogg.

For the past fifteen minutes, half of which had been spent stroking the canrassi, Svetlana had explored the new information in her head. The nature of the information was striking. There was virtually no need for her to concentrate to bring the canrassi commands to the forefront of her mind. It was like they’d been there since her childhood. Sit. Stand. Follow. Eat. Attack. Devour. Heel. Protect. Judging by the amount and type of information she possessed, it seemed that canrassis were equal to dogs when it came to intelligence. It was strange, but even the way she viewed the creature had shifted from fear and uncertainty to familiarity. She had not the slightest bit of concern that Mishka would do anything but follow her commands. It only strengthened the notion that the Ithini had done something to her.

Footsteps emerged behind the metal door to the pen. Someone was coming. Quickly, she looked Mishka in the eyes. “Do-kash’to,” she said. The command to rest. Obediently, Mishka backed away and trundled toward the corner, lowering its massive body to the floor with a heavy flop. Seconds later, she heard the input commands for the door to open.

In the moment of solitude Svetlana had left, it dawned on her just how difficult the feigning of feebleness would be now. She didn’t feel feeble. Not at all. Whether ingrained in her from Ed or a part of her growing confidence, she was ready to fight whoever it was who came through that door. What was stopping her was logic. As courageous as she felt, she wasn’t going to singlehandedly overpower the Bakma. She also knew she couldn’t rely on Mishka—for all she knew, the canrassi would follow the Bakmas’ commands as obediently as it was following hers. She had no choice but to bide her time.

The door opened, and Svetlana turned to face it. Much to her surprise, it was not Nagogg or one of his henchmen. It was Kraash-nagun and Ei`dorinthal. It was impossible for Svetlana to disguise her immediate interest in the Ithini’s presence. There was no better time than now to find out what it had done to her. Or at least, once Kraash-nagun was gone. Forcing thoughts of her recent experiences from her, she prepared herself for the inevitable Ithini connection linking her to the blinded elite. A moment later, it came.

Stepping into the room, Kraash-nagun knelt and placed a metal tray on the floor. Calunod. As Svetlana eyed the tray suspiciously, Kraash-nagun addressed her.

“This will serve you better than food meant for animals,” the Bakma said, his words translated in Svetlana’s mind.

Despite her best efforts, it was impossible not to think about certain aspects of her situation even as Kraash-nagun spoke. Tauthin had said that she’d screamed in Bakmanese, and clearly she knew some Bakmanese words, though she couldn’t understand anything from Kraash-nagun now without the help of Ed. The inconsistency of the whole thing bothered her. “That is calunod,” Svetlana said, once again focusing all of her energy on the conversation at hand as opposed to her rampant thoughts, “correct?”

Kraash-nagun nodded. “Yes. You may not find it pleasing, but it is nourishment.”

For a moment, she eyed him. “Thank you,” she finally said. Her blue gaze settling on the tray, she took in the calunod’s odor. Even with her sense of smell diminished, it was disgustingly pungent. But Kraash-nagun’s words were true. She needed nourishment, regardless of how it tasted.

“I have spoken with Tauthinilaas—he greatly regrets your situation and expresses his sympathy.” The Bakma’s vacant sockets appeared to scan the room. “Has the canrassi harmed you?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “It has not.” Canting her head slightly, she considered the fact that Kraash-nagun—a nonbeliever in Uladek—was the one delivering her food. His last conversation with her had been less than encouraging. She wondered if he’d mulled over his own thoughts toward her. It was worth prodding to find out. “How many does it take to make this spaceship function?”

Immediately, she sensed disapproval. That answered her question. “Do not dream where there is no hope,” Kraash-nagun answered. “Tauthinilaas and I have resigned to our fates, as you would be advised to do with yours.”

Her stomach twisted angrily. “There is hope. If you would only allow yourselves an opportunity to act—”

“There is no hope here, Setana.”

Coward
. The thought came to her suddenly; it couldn’t be restrained. Kraash-nagun sensed it, as evidenced by the subtle angling of his head.

“You question my courage?” the alien asked. “Curious, from a specimen like yourself. What validation do
you
have for such an insult?”

“I have not given up,” she said, shaking her head. “If we work together, this vessel can be taken. You must trust me in this.”

Kraash-nagun scoffed. “Such brazenness is easy when not confronted by your enemy. We shall see if your courage upholds when Gabralthaar has your neck in his grasp.” Hesitating, he said, “But I envy your spirit, misguided as it may be. Were you of greater significance, I might entertain your thoughts of rebellion. As it were, however, you are of no threat to Nagogg or his crew. Therefore, I cannot offer my assistance.”

That was all she cared to hear. “You may leave now,” she said flatly. “Thank you for the food.”

Narrowing, his vacant sockets zeroed in on her. Raising his chin slightly, the Bakma said, “You are different.”

A span of silence passed between them as Kraash-nagun stood in the doorway. The connection still lingered—she could sense the Bakma’s newfound intrigue. She purposefully kept her mind blank. At long last, Kraash-nagun stepped back and away from the door, leaving the tray of calunod on the floor of the stable. He was leaving.

Finally.

The second before Svetlana sensed their connection was about to sever, she projected a simple thought:
Ed.
Her intention was for the word to be subtle enough to be ignored by Kraash-nagun, but distinct enough to the Ithini to prompt him to let the connection linger between him and her. Behind Kraash-nagun, Ei’dorinthal’s head cocked ever so slightly. Message received. Kraash-nagun’s presence left the connection as the door to the stable shut, leaving Svetlana once again alone with Mishka.

Silence. Her blue eyes jumped faintly, as if searching for something in the labyrinth of her own mind—for another presence. Ei’dorinthal had reacted physically to his name. Surely he would have lingered behind.

“Ed, are you here?”

A moment later, the Ithini came through.
Yes.

She asked without hesitation, “What have you done to me?”

A sensation of confusion came from the unseen Ithini.
I do not understand.

“Do not play games with me,” she whispered, turning to pace about the stable. Though her stare was downcast, her focus was purely on the connection. “You put things in my head. Bakma words, canrassi commands. Why?”

Explain.

Pointing her finger with fervency, she said, “I will not explain things to you! It is you who must explain things to me.”

The Ithini’s confusion deepened.
I cannot explain what has not been revealed.

“Revealed by whom? Who put you up to this? Was it one of Nagogg’s crew?”

Revealed by you. You state that I have placed words and commands in your head, yet I have not. You must explain.

Now, she was getting angry. “Listen to me, Ithini. Ever since I awoke from the removal of my nose, I have had experiences. Visions, dreams. Words have come to me in the Bakmanese language, commands to make the canrassi obey me.” This was a waste of time—Ed knew full well what was going on. He had to. “I did not know these things before. The only being on this ship capable of implanting such things in my head is you.”

Though faint, a sensation of agreement came to her.
You are correct.

“So now tell me why.”

I cannot.

She was about to rip her hair out. “Why not?”

Because I have done no such thing to you.
Just before Svetlana could fire back a retort, the Ithini went on.
You are correct in that I am the only being on this vessel capable of implanting unknown information. Yet I have not.

Shaking her head, she said, “That’s impossible.”

Once again, agreement came to her.
I concur.

“So if you did not put these things into my head, who did?” Setting her hands on her hips, she stopped pacing. She could feel her blood pressure rising. “It was you. It
must
have been you. If not you, then who? Or what? Was it a ghost?”

I do not know.

She cursed. Greater than any feeling of confusion now on the part of Ei`dorinthal was an overwhelming sense of curiosity—one that felt genuine. That didn’t make Svetlana feel better. She had captured his attention to get answers, not to be bombarded with an avalanche of questions. Yet questions were all that she had.

It was simple arithmetic, so far as Svetlana was concerned. She was experiencing an outcome—visions and language—that could only be accomplished by the sum of two parts: her mind and something else’s. Was this a miracle? Had God intervened and just
given
her bits of the Bakma language? If that were true, then He’d also given her those nightmarish visions of clawing open Nagogg’s face and showering herself with his blood. Nothing about that felt like God.
That
part felt more like the devil. What was going on?

There was a distinct pulse in her mind. Ed was digging. “What are you doing?” she asked.

Answering without hesitation, Ei`dorinthal said,
You are more than you.

“…what?”

You are one with another. Two minds have coalesced. How did you do this?

Exasperated, she pressed back her sticky, yet drying hair. “I am one with
who
? I don’t know what you mean.”