Plague of Memory (12 page)

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Authors: S. L. Viehl

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Plague of Memory
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Since I knew he could hear my thoughts, I directed them at him.
Do you see what happened to me? Some of it.
He seemed to move to the very center of my mind, which made me shiver.
So much is—
I didn't understand the word he used, but it sounded angry. Maybe he was still expecting to find

Cherijo somewhere inside my head. Given the love he felt for her, I almost wished he could.
I am sorry.

Don't apologize to
me. Reever left my thoughts and released my hand so quickly that it was as if he had never touched them in the first place. His eyes had changed to the color of new ice at twilight.

Squilyp came over. "What is it?"

"An old problem. It is likely that the stress of being invaded by two telepaths caused the coma." Reever turned away from me and regarded the Senior Healer. "When will you be finished with the examination?"

"I am told I can only keep her for another hour, so I want her to wear a cerebral monitor during the briefing with the Adan," Squilyp said. He gave my husband a hard look. "In the event another telepath attempts to take over her brain."

"What other telepath? What briefing?" I asked, starting to feel as I had when I had woken up on the ice, stripped of all knowledge except being.

"The Ruling Council sent two of HouseClan Adan's ships to escort us to Vtaga," my husband told me. "ClanLeader Adan wishes to coordinate their efforts to safeguard you with ours, so there will be a briefing."

Why had the council sent more ships? How would the Hsktskt react to such a display of force? "Can it not wait?" I asked, feeling overwhelmed now. I had just been in a coma; surely I could be granted more time to prepare for this.

"Not much longer," Squilyp told me. "We will reach Vtaga in three hours."

Six

Reever returned just after the Senior Healer fitted me with a narrow alloy band that looked like a hair ornament but monitored and transmitted my brain wave activity to a console in Medical.

"You need not wear it when you cleanse or sleep," Squilyp said as he showed me how to switch off and remove the device. "If you feel dizzy or faint, tell Duncan, but don't link with him. If you're alone when something happens, sit quietly. I'll have you on constant monitor."

"I
do not think Reever's telepathy caused me to go into a coma," I told him. "It is more likely some remnant reaction from the head injuries I received on Akkabarr."

"I'm not sure." The Omorr looked disgusted and, oddly, a little ashamed. "You were not like other Terrans before this, and none of your readings match the ones I had on file for the various synaptic episodes you suffered in the past that were not attributed to Reever's abilities."

"This happened to Cherijo?" She had never described it in her journals. Did the woman do nothing but write about Reever and herself?

"Something like it, yes, several times. We had
theories, but we never determined exactly what caused the .. . incidents." His dark eyes shifted as he looked over my head at Reever. "They are waiting for you. Go. We will do a follow-up later."

As I walked to the lift with my husband, I silently reviewed everything I had read from my chart. Squilyp's notations were detailed and precise, but my symptoms made little sense. A comatose state was always induced by something; usually an injury or an adverse physical reaction to a drug or chemical. I had experienced neither. The only oddity that had happened before my mishap had been Reever's possession and control of my mind and body, the memories of seeing myself through his eyes, and ...

Joey.

Someone else had been there. I remembered the voice that had called me by his pet name. A voice that had been, like Reever's thought-link, inside my head. Was it the red-haired woman of Cherijo's memories?

"Did someone enter our quarters just before I became ill?" I asked him. "This other telepath of whom you spoke in Medical, perhaps?"

"There are no other telepaths on the ship." Reever enabled the lift to take us to third level. "We were alone."

"Someone spoke to me through my thoughts. Someone who called me
Joey."
I frowned, concentrating, trying to recall the voice. "It was not a Jorenian or an Iisleg. The voice was one I have not before heard. Who else uses that name for me?"

"Your—" He used a word my vocollar could not
translate. "She died before you left Terra, but she has used a form of telepathy to contact you—Cherijo— in the past. It always had a severe effect on her." The lift doors opened. "I will tell you what I know about Maggie after the briefing."

"After the briefing we are going to Vtaga." I took hold of his arm. "Who was this Maggie person? Did she have red hair? Use words I can understand. Please."

"Her name was Maggie. She was engaged by your creator to act as a mother to you," Reever said, as if he hated telling me this. "She had red hair when she posed as a human being."

"Posed?"

"Maggie was an alien life-form masquerading as a Terran." His tone chilled with distaste and something uglier; something I almost thought was hatred. "She claimed to have used subliminal implants to enable her to communicate with you."

"So my father made me from his cells and experimented on me, while my
mother
tampered with my brain so she could speak to me from the otherworld." I was suddenly very glad they were both dead.

"Maggie claimed many reasons for helping Joseph Grey Veil to create you, among them to carry on the work of her extinct species, which she claimed founded all of the humanoid races in our galaxy. I do not believe she has ever told you the truth, nor am I convinced that she is dead," Reever said. "I have encountered her more than once in the past, and what she did to your mind required more than subliminal implants."

Another muddle of events from a past not my own: a husband who could but would not control my mind and body, and a dead ensleg intent on possessing me through my own subconscious. "Can no one simply leave me alone?"

"I have never been able to resist you," my husband said as we walked from the lift to an area on the third level.

I looked around but saw only a large, closed entryway. "What is this place?" "It is the captain's reception room for..." He paused, choosing his words. "Important visitors."

I looked down at the simple tunic and trousers I wore. The garments Reever had brought to Medical for me were as modest as any others I was made to wear, but now the ensleg clothing seemed too tight, too revealing. Also I was bareheaded—something an Iisleg woman never was in front of visitors. "It would be better if I covered my face."

"No. They need to see you," he assured me, and guided me into the room.

The important visitors looked exactly like Xonea and the other Jorenians, all blue-skinned and black-haired giants. They wore the Adan garments in the same colors and patterns of muted blue, black, and gray as those who presently served among the crew. These men and women appeared far more heavily armed, however, and their expressions seemed less than welcoming.

"Council Member Cherijo Torin," Xonea said in a loud voice from one side of me, making me jump a little.

The visitors turned toward me and performed
bows accompanied by a terse, swift gesture, all in perfect unison.

Reever gripped my wrist and spoke into my head.
They do this to show that they recognize your authority over them.

There were more than seventy people in the room, and I was in charge of all? I looked up at the captain. "I should not have threatened to remove you from command. Would you do this?"

Xonea's mouth curled up on one side. "Too late for that, ClanSister."

One of the bigger males, with wide purple streaks in his black hair, approached me. He wore a strip of black-and-silver, metallic, woven cloth across his tunic, upon which were sheathed dozens of small blades that had no hilts. His six-fingered hands moved expressively as he bowed again. "Tlore Adan, ClanLeader of the Adan. My House is yours, Clanjoren."

Clanjoren is a title of honor, given to you for saving their homeworld,
my husband explained.
It means you belong to all of their tribes, and they will defend you to the death.

How do I respond?
I thought back.

Offer your hands out, palm up. He will take them and hold them for a moment. Address him as ClanLeader.
He hesitated before adding,
Say something pleasant.
He released me.

I did as he said with my hands, and Tlore grasped them gently. "Please call me Healer, ClanLeader," I said politely. I would never remember to answer to Clanjoren. "Your blades are beautiful. Are they for show, or do you use them?"

Startled, low chuckles erupted around us, and the skin around Tlore's eyes crinkled. "I have had occasion to use them."

I had not meant to say anything funny, but I was not averse to taking advantage of his good humor. "Shall we begin this briefing?"

Tlore offered me his arm, and escorted me to the U-shaped table. I sat between him and Reever, with Xonea taking a place at the console in the middle of the room.

"Council Member Torin has elected to visit Vtaga, the Hsktskt homeworld," the captain said, and touched the console panel before him. A dimensional image of a large, dark-blue-and-orange planet appeared above him and turned slowly. "Atmosphere, gravity, and climate are within our tolerance range, and SubAkade TssVar has guaranteed safe passage for our people. Our probes have picked up no evidence of airborne contaminants."

"The Hsktskt maintain an expansive planetary defense grid," Tlore said, making an elegant, encircling gesture with one hand. "The technology is unknown to us, but they keep it enabled at all times to block access to the surface. The League has studied and attacked the grid for many years, but our sources say they have yet to find any vulnerability. This is a direct threat to the healer's safety and must be deactivated."

"TssVar will not agree to that," Reever said, "but I know how to bypass it." Xonea gave my husband an astonished look. "How so?" Reever rose and went to the captain's console,

and used the controls to superimpose a glowing green web of energy around the image of Vtaga. He magnified the image, zeroing in on a small, rust-colored spot at the top of the planet. "The main grid generators are here. They are heavily guarded, but a strike team with the proper ordnance could destroy the station."

"We will be unable to take anything but personal weapons to the surface," Xonea said.

Reever changed the image, magnifying another section of the planet. "You will find all the ordnance you need here, in this dockyard. It is also guarded, but not as heavily as the polar grid station."

Tlore appeared astounded. "How do you know these things?"

My husband straightened. "I was once enslaved by the Hsktskt. I was freed when I saved the life of SubAkade TssVar, who made me his blood brother. As such, I pretended to serve the Faction as a spy while I used my position to free other slaves. I traveled all over Vtaga and gained access to most of their planetary defense intelligence."

Beside me, the Adan ClanLeader stiffened. So did his people, who were all staring at Reever now.

What was he doing, admitting this so openly? The Jorenians had remained neutral during the Hsktskt-League war, but they had no love for the League. Garphawayn seemed to think that was because of its treatment of my former self. Joren had broken off all relations and treaties with the League when it had declared Cherijo to be nothing more than an escaped lab animal.

"What did you intend to do with such treacherous knowledge?" Tlore asked, his voice deceptively mild.

"Initially I meant to raise an army of mercenaries and return to raid Vtaga," Reever said in his blunt fashion. "I thought I might repay the Hsktskt for their many acts of brutality against the warmblooded." His gaze shifted to me. "My wife taught me there is no justice in such revenge. So did Teulon Jado."

The Adan seemed to relax, as did Xonea. I saw love and pain in my husband's eyes. Giving such information was perilous, but he was doing so for me, to keep me safe while I was on the planet.

"My ClanSister must be guarded at all times while on the planet," Xonea said. "Reever will serve as her personal escort. Qonja Adan"—he nodded toward a quiet male I had seen around the ship— "will act as bodyguard. ClanLeader Adan, the council suggests a mission team of ten warriors and five specialists."

That meant I would be traveling with seventeen people. "I think that is too many, Captain. We wish to make a show of strength, not create offense."

"I agree," Tlore said before Xonea could argue. "My kin are the best warriors Joren has to offer. Five guards and two specialists will afford the healer the protection she needs without provoking the beasts."

"I hope you are correct, Tlore. The Faction will not allow anything but standard communication devices to be brought to the surface," Xonea warned. "Transponder and locator implants will be considered as surveillance devices and removed upon arrival."

I did not want to think of how the Hsktskt would remove them, not that I would have permitted him to implant anything in me anyway. "There may be treachery involved on the part of SubAkade TssVar, but we cannot go there acting as if we expect it. We only have to be watchful and cautious."

"The Hsktskt do not lie," my husband said. "They consider it beneath them. That is why they use other species to spy for them. They regard such things as too personally demeaning to do them themselves."

"Luckily our kind does not share their distaste." Tlore nodded to one of his men, who began to read from a datapad.

The officer related information gathered by various Adan intelligence officers regarding the present situation on Vtaga. The information, which had been solicited from mercenaries and other frequent visitors to the Hsktskt homeworld, indicated that the native population could be on the verge of civil war.

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