Rystani Warrior 02 - The Dare (23 page)

KIREK LEANED FORWARD. “Converting the nonbelievers is your task. Not
ours
.”

Dora appreciated how Kirek emphasized that they were all in this together. He’d saved them all, a child, a brave and valiant soul. She couldn’t seem to stop touching the boy. With her hand on his shoulder, she smiled down on him with proud affection, glad he’d done so well on his own. The nod of his head and the way he forced his eyes open indicated he was about to fall asleep on his feet, and she suspected he’d had little or no rest the previous nights. When she’d touched his shoulder, she’d found a scrape and bruises, and she wondered how much he’d suffered while alone.

“Oracle, I plead to differ.” Deckar flipped a switch and several holoscreens revealed riots. “This is Baniken.” Deckar’s somber tone emphasized the images of the city.

Selgrens had taken over the streets, looting shops in the local markets. Any unlucky Risorian they caught suffered in the ensuing violence. In one clip, a group of Selgrens surrounded a skimmer, overturned it with their bare hands, and beat the unlucky occupants with bloody fists as they tried to escape. In another image authorities moved into the unruly crowd, spraying the rioters with chemical deterrents that froze the rioters in place until another squad collected the bodies. Yet another screen showed a group of kids dancing on the property of a wealthy Risorian homeowner, who pulled out a weapon and fired, leaving three children dead and four others wounded.

Apparently Kirek had set off a storm of religious controversy that was tearing the different factions apart. The Selgrens, nonbelievers in Tirips, worked hard and played hard. They resented the Risorians who owned the land and who in their opinions did little but better themselves in Tirips’ eyes and lived off Selgren labor. Kirek’s appearance on Kwadii was like setting fire to rocket fuel, igniting explosive undercurrents.

“We need your help, holy Oracle,” Deckar pleaded, his voice commanding and grave.

Dora stepped forward and tucked Kirek under her arm. Her every protective instinct was out in abounding force. Kirek had saved the Federation people this day, and the haughty Kwadii had no right to demand the boy’s help. “The Oracle is exhausted. He needs rest.”

Deckar frowned. “But—”

“He must rest,” Dora repeated, and not waiting for permission to leave, escorted Kirek from the conference room before anyone tried to stop her.

“Thank you.” Kirek held her hand tightly, and once they were out of view, Dora picked him up and carried him to his new quarters down a long hallway. Although guards were posted at the exits, she suspected there might be hidden mechanical listening devices, but had seen no evidence of them. While she didn’t want to pester Kirek with questions when he so clearly needed sleep, one question nagged. After she reached his room, she decided a full shower could wait until morning and settled for washing his face with a soft cloth. She tucked covers around him, and sat by his side. Keeping her voice easy and gentle and low, she pried, “What were you thinking to accomplish when you walked through that force field?”

“I’d heard about the Oracle earlier today. After I won credits at a local carnival, we had to run away from authorities.”

“We?”

“I joined a group of kids to avoid detection.”

“That was smart.”

“We hid in a Risorian place of worship, a
lepach
, the First House. A high cleric made us welcome, offered us water to drink and told us stories. One legend was how Tirips’ Oracle would walk through the field of death to prove his singularity.”

“You could have been hurt, or worse,” she said, amazement filling her that he’d planned the effect he’d had on the audience.

“I knew I could nullify the force field.”

“I meant, what if you’d failed to convince the Kwadii that you were the Oracle?”

“Then we would have been together.”

Troubled, she smoothed the covers. “You would have died with us.”

“Better than living alone.” His eyes fluttered closed, but his tone remained sure.

“Kirek, you could have had a good life here. You would have made new friends.”

“It would not have been the same.”

She leaned forward and kissed his brow, shaken by his words. “No. It wouldn’t have been the same. Thank you for saving us.”

Dora doubted the child heard her. His breaths had turned deep and even, his pulse steady and slow. But he’d made her think about human bonds, which were not so simple to understand. The strongest bonds seemed to be those formed early in life and those of blood and shared exploits that involved life and death encounters, undoubtedly bonds made stronger due to the shared intensity of emotions. It wasn’t necessarily logical, but it was there all the same.

If she’d been stranded on this world, she would have probably made a new life and new friends. But not a friend like Tessa. It didn’t matter if she and Tessa couldn’t speak or spend time together for months or years. When they did reunite, their friendship would pick back up exactly where they’d left off, with no awkward silences, no fears about being accepted for exactly who each of them was. Their friendship would withstand the test of separation over decades because the bonds they’d forged were stronger than
bendar
. A new friend would never have known the old Dora who’d been a computer, would never know her in the same way that Tessa did.

This child had taken up residence in a corner of Dora’s heart due to his goodness, his willingness to risk his life, and she wanted to protect and coddle him in return. Were these maternal instincts evolving from her human DNA? She didn’t know. But he was precious, precocious, and she knew the attachment forming between them would last a lifetime. If he ever needed her, she would be there, without hesitation.

What of her connection with Zical? She had known him when she was still a computer and had formed an initial friendship that had not only deepened over time but that had broadened in scope to include a physical side. Making love had been one of the most treasured experiences of her life. She wanted more. More physical bonding, more emotional bonding.

But what did he want?

Would he have made love if he hadn’t believed they were about to die? She didn’t know. The man was stubborn, but now that he’d had a taste of what they could be together, would he push her away again and attempt to revert to their former relationship? Or would he accept that they needed to spend more time together to determine if they were a good fit?

Thoughtful, Dora stayed with the sleeping child, reluctant to leave him alone. Not the least bit hungry, she had no desire to return to the conference room to eat. She’d suffered enough stress for one day and didn’t need to listen to more endless debates.

Earlier, when Zical had been about to die, she’d been almost resigned to their fate. But the moment Deckar had called for the execution to cease, she’d been frantic to stop the machine.

She’d thought her heart would burst through her chest as she shoved past people. She’d knocked aside one man with an elbow jab to the ribs, kicked another who’d tried to hold her back, using techniques that Tessa had taught her. Of course, without her suit, the skills were nowhere as effective, but her adrenaline had kicked in, giving her superior strength.

At that moment, when she feared she wouldn’t stop the blade in time, she would have gladly traded places with Zical. He meant so much to her that she would have given her life for his. She had no idea if the strong emotion was love. Love wasn’t supposed to make one hurt, but at the time, she could feel Zical’s pain as if it were hers.

She’d seen the blade slice Zical’s neck a moment before she’d smashed the circuits. At the sight of his blood, an overwhelming fear that she’d been too late crackled down her spine. Her legs turned all rubbery. Later, the knowledge he would live had brought her such joy that she’d shaken and cried with happiness.

The turn of events and the emotional highs and lows had left her as exhausted as little Kirek. In Kirek’s bathing room, she removed her toga, showered, and crawled under the covers on her living quarters sofa, wishing Zical was here to enclose her in his strong embrace.

She wondered if he would come to her. Closing her eyes, she was certain she would dream of him, dream of his handsome grin, his sparkling alexandrite eyes, and his mouth closing over hers.

“DORA. WAKE UP.” Zical never knew whether it was the urgency in his voice or perhaps his strong grip on her shoulders that awakened her. While he would never hurt her, he was too upset to be gentle. Luckily, she was one of those people who merely needed to open her eyes and her brain was already in gear.

“What’s wrong?” She sat up, letting the sheet drop to her waist, and grabbed her sarong, already dressing before she heard the problem. “Won’t the Risorians let us go?”

“Kirek is missing.”

She raced through the open door to where Kirek had been sleeping. It was empty.

Her fingers fumbled with the knot at her waist as she dressed. Her big violet eyes flared with red alarm, leaving no doubt to her outrage. “What do you mean, he’s missing?”

“After the Risorians insisted that the Oracle make an appearance on the holovid to ask for a cessation of violence, I went to wake Kirek. When he wasn’t here with you in your quarters, I thought he might be with the crew, but he wasn’t, so I returned to wake you.”

“I left him sleeping.” Ignoring her sandals, Dora skidded into her sleeping room. Perhaps Kirek had wanted to shower and didn’t want to risk waking her. But he wasn’t in her bath. Dora clutched her hands into fists, her face pale with worry. “Maybe he’s visiting with—”

Zical shook his head. “I checked with Dr. Laduna, too. He’s not with the scientists. He’s not in this compound. The guards claimed no one has gone in or out.”

“Damn it,” Dora swore, using curses she’d picked up over the centuries of which she had no idea of the origin. “I was sleeping so deeply. I should have stayed awake—”

“That’s ridiculous.” Zical read the fear in her eyes, a fear that matched his own, still he tried to comfort her. “You couldn’t have known someone would take him.”

Although the boy had an intelligence as high as any adult’s, Dora had mothered him and he’d responded to her like a son. Zical supposed the relationship had been good for both of them. In many ways they had a lot in common. Both possessed a keen intelligence that set them apart from average. In addition, both appeared to be outwardly normal, which wasn’t indicative of their unique natures. Dora had been born as a computer and now lived as a human. Kirek was born in human form, but hyperspace had enhanced his capabilities. Between his powerful psi and his extraordinary IQ, he’d never really been a child except physically. While Dora still bonded with her machines and Kirek avoided the machines’ sensors, they’d become true friends. Both had unusual abilities that set them apart, so it was no wonder they’d taken to one another.

Although Kirek might have fooled the machines into letting him depart, the guards here were very much human. Zical headed back to the sentries to ask more questions. Perhaps one of them had left his post and the other had turned his back for a few seconds. Or perhaps the guards could be in a conspiracy with those rioters in the city. Fighting to hold onto his temper and keep his voice even, Zical kept his tone low. “If Kirek’s not here, maybe one of the guards is lying.”

Dora placed a hand on Zical’s shoulder, and he slowed. “There’re other possibilities. Perhaps someone took him out another way.”

“Then you don’t think he left voluntarily?” Zical had to ask the question, pleased that Dora was thinking through her fears, not panicking.

Dora frowned in anger. “Leave voluntarily? Stars. Yesterday, he risked his life to save us all and you think he’d leave without so much as saying goodbye?” Her expression of anger faded to fear and frustration. “He told me,”—her voice broke—“that he’d rather risk dying with us than living here alone. Does that sound like he’d just wander off?”

Dora banged her fist against the wall, took another step, and banged again. At first Zical thought she’d gone crazy in her grief. But then he realized she was taking the initiative, listening to the echoes, checking the main hallway for signs of a fake door or a secret passageway.

The crew and scientists gathered as word of Kirek’s disappearance spread. They fanned out, all of them searching for a secret entrance. Meanwhile, the guards must have notified Deckar of the Oracle’s disappearance. With no regard for his personal safety, the man ran into their compound, his movements graceful, his giant legs sliding to a stop before their group. Deckar was one unarmed man among many Federation people, and they could easily have killed Deckar before the Kwadii soldiers could save him, but the real concern on his face for the Oracle’s whereabouts put them all on the same side.

Deckar’s suspicious gaze sought Zical and Dora. “You saw to it that he escaped from us once before, shortly after your arrival. How do I know you haven’t done so again?”

“You don’t.” Zical and Deckar stood toe-to-toe, both men bristling with anger. The Risorian might have an inch on him in height, but Zical’s chest and shoulders contained more power. As a trained warrior, not a dilettante, Zical could take the Kwadii down—but he didn’t want a fight. He needed this man’s help and spread his arms wide to emphasize his words. “However, we had no reason to send Kirek away.” He shot Deckar a searching look. “We believe we’re among friends and that you would do no harm to the Oracle.”

“That is so.” The tension in Deckar’s shoulders eased, and he relaxed his clenched hands. “However, there are others on Kwadii who do not believe in Tirips.”

“You think the Selgrens took Kirek?” Dora didn’t mince words.

“There are many possibilities. There are rumors about a Selgren fanatic, L’Matti, who wants to prove the Oracle is a fake. He’s determined to bring down Risorian control of the council.”