Read Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest Online
Authors: Susan Kearney
As if sensing victory, the Zin pressed forward. A replica of the first Zin driller jammed another drill up against the glass and then another. Angel imagined them creating Zin drillers from the parts room upstairs and sending them down here to attack.
The huge glass held, but the cracks spread, deepened. The only wall separating them from the Zin shattered. Glass fragments blasted inward.
Instinctively Angel stepped in front of Kirek and raised the shield around them both. She’d rested but had by no means recovered her full strength.
She might have used up all her adrenaline, but fear powered her shield. The Zin advanced right up to the edge of her shield. One tested the force field with his clawlike hand. Her shield sheared off the limb. Another used a flamethrower, and when the shield reflected back the heat, the Zin melted. Three others advanced to take its place.
And Angel weakened. Her limbs shook. Her gut tightened. Fear grabbed her by the throat and she drew on it, used it to fuel her psi.
She called on every last shred of resolve to hold.
But the shield was failing
…
and even with her blaster, she estimated they had mere seconds left to live.
KIREK HAD INSERTED his psi into the Zin brain with ease. However, once inside, finding his way to one central switch that he could turn off proved frustrating. One link after another led him into dead ends or areas in which he had no interest. He hadn’t expected the brain to have such complexity, with so many duplicate systems.
He was aiming for the core identity, the place where the Zin ego lived. Once he found the Zin essence, he could cut off that part from the rest, because while each Zin unit was an individual, their resolve came from the core. Without resolve, the Zin would simply stop
…
and die.
Part machine, part neural matter, the brain used the best of both animal and computer to survive and dominate its surroundings. Eons of history were stored in the brain and Kirek followed the link back to the beginnings of the Zin, before their conquest of the Andromeda Galaxy.
He wasn’t surprised to discover that the Zin had once lived in the Milky Way. After all, the Zin had altered Jarn DNA and made that race spy for them against their will. But what rocked Kirek was learning that the Perceptive Ones and the Zin had once been the same race. The Perceptive Ones had evolved to a pure energy state and had left their bodies behind. The Zin had chosen a less spiritual evolution, combining living DNA with machines.
The ancient races had clashed. The Perceptive Ones had thrown the Zin out of the Milky Way and had built giant Sentinels and sent them to the rim to stand guard. But the Zin believed the Perceptive Ones had stolen their galaxy, and they’d been trying to invade for a millennium.
While the information fascinated Kirek, his findings didn’t help him find the Zin essence he needed. Even as he plunged deeper into the brain, he noted a growing presence in his own. At first, he tried to keep out the presence, fearing the Zin had mounted a counterattack to stop him. But the psi inside his head seemed familiar
…
and panicked.
Kirek. It’s Angel.
He shook off the mental communication, fearing a trick.
Damn you. Listen to me. The Zin broke through the glass doors. The only thing standing between us and death is my shield, and it’s fading.
I haven’t found a way to turn them off. I need more time.
There is no more time. Unless
…
Unless?
Merge our psi. Lend me strength.
Merging will slow my search.
If we don’t merge, there will be no search. We’ll be dead. Open your eyes. Look at what’s going on around us.
He didn’t have time. He’d found the core. A neural nexus so tight, so sophisticated that he sped from nerve cell to nerve cell with hyperspeed. But even as he went in, he merged their psi. Immediately, he was inundated with images of Angel’s past.
Trapped images of sitting by a sick woman’s bed. Guilt at how badly she wanted to leave. Guilt and sorrow when her mother died.
And the marvelous freedom of space. The
Raven
was the only home Angel ever wanted. She relished the freedom, reveled in the adventure.
As Angel tapped his psi and he felt her growing stronger, he found the Zin “off switch.” But as he began to shut down the Zin, he noted an ethics program. An ethics program with a flaw that caused the Zin to believe they never had enough and would always need more.
Greedy domination was
programmed
into the Zin mindset.
If he could change the programming—alter their flaw—he wouldn’t have to kill them.
No.
Even as he thought to avoid killing, Angel read his thoughts.
If you are wrong, we will die, and they will win.
If I’m right we all win,
he countered.
You’re betting all our lives. And the Zin have redoubled their efforts to break our shield. You don’t have time to mess around. Turn them off.
Kirek didn’t heed the logic of her words. As much as he yearned to live, as much as he wanted to save his parents and friends and the Federation, he finally knew why he was here at this moment. Making the right decision
…
was his destiny.
With a psi thrust, Kirek changed the flaw. He rerouted a few chromosomes, altered the DNA that made the Zin invaders, conquerors, warlike creatures who wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than total domination.
Kirek withdrew from the Zin brain. Zin of all sizes and shapes attacked the shield. With no regard for their own safety or lives, the Zin threw themselves at the shield, dying as the force field fried their brains. Relentless, the Zin paid no attention to the deaths of their comrades. They kept advancing, from above, from below and from every side.
Kirek joined Angel’s efforts and poured his strength into the shields, but he didn’t have much left.
Why were the Zin still attacking? Had his alteration of the flaw been a mistake? Were they going to die because he abhorred violence and death?
By now the mother brain should have sent out orders for the Zin to cease their attack. But the Zin advanced with a ferocity that didn’t let up, throwing their bodies against the shield. And dying. Dying. Dying.
Each death stole some of Kirek and Angel’s energy. Growing weak, Kirek grabbed his blaster. Had there been a duplicate strand of DNA that he’d missed?
He’d failed. “I’m so sorry,” he told Angel.
“You did your best.”
“I’ve killed us all.”
Suddenly the Zin stopped their attack.
Angel whispered. “Are they dead?”
“I’m not sure.”
Angel kept her blaster aimed at the Zin. They began to move again, clearing away their dead. Then dozens of them resumed the attack. “Oh
…
Stars. Here they come again.”
Each death depleted Kirek and Angel’s psi energy, draining them until Kirek knew they would soon lose the shield. He shouldn’t have gambled every life in the Federation against the hope he could cure the Zin of their aggression. He’d had no right to play God. Now everyone would pay for his mistake.
Their psi was failing. He tried to send more energy. But his tank was empty. He grabbed Angel’s hand.
Then their shield failed.
AT THE SHIELD’S failure, Angel braced for death. Determined to go down fighting, she held Kirek’s hand and blasted the advancing Zin with the other. The Zin, who clearly sensed victory, threw themselves into her blaster heat with a frenzy. Metal bodies fell, and the Zin behind them climbed over the dead.
A Zin reached for her foot. Angel shot it and stepped back, only to find she had no place to retreat.
She let go of Kirek’s hand. Her back against Kirek’s, they blasted the Zin, but even if their firepower didn’t run out, they couldn’t outfight millions of Zin. Surrounded, there was no place to run.
When her blaster ran out of juice, she threw it at the Zin then pulled her knife. Slashing and slicing to keep the Zin at bay, they had just moments to live.
It would have been fitting to say something heroic to Kirek before they died, but she couldn’t spare a breath. Her psi exhausted, muscles weary, lungs burning, she was about to keel over.
She shifted to evade a claw, and then the Zin—all of them—suddenly stopped advancing, stopped moving. As if rooted into the deck, they ceased rolling, flying, and tracking. Pinchers and claws and hands ceased attacking.
Were they going to clear away their dead again? Was it a trick to get them to let down their guard?
Or had Kirek succeeded in turning off the Zin?
But although they had ceased to advance, their eyes still moved, their limbs twitched. She waited, breathing hard. But the Zin didn’t clear away their dead.
Stars! This time, they didn’t resume their attack.
Baffled, she looked over her shoulder to peer at Kirek. His face flushed from exertion, his eyes sparkled deep violet and red. His lips relaxed from a feral grimace into a pleased smile.
She slowly lowered her knife. “What’s
…
going
…
on?”
Kirek’s face glowed with satisfaction. “We will soon reach a peaceful agreement with the Zin.”
“What?” He hadn’t turned them off, so he must have
…
“What did you do?”
“They possessed a flaw in their programming that made them overly aggressive.”
She snorted. “No kidding.”
“We eliminated the flaw.”
“No
—you
eliminated
the flaw. You reprogrammed them, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I would have shut them down.” So many emotions washed through her that she didn’t know how she felt. Relief to be alive. Distrust of the Zin. Furious that Kirek had taken such a risk with their lives—with everyone’s lives.
And the disappointment that she had lost the greatest salvage opportunity of all time paled compared to the fact that Kirek may have lied to her. She spun to face him but didn’t quite turn her back to the Zin. “Was that always your mission—to fix them? Did you lie to me from the start?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t even know about the flaw until I entered their brain.”
“Let’s be clear. You had the chance to shut them down?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know you succeeded in reprogramming them?”
“We’re still breathing, aren’t we?”
He had a point. “Maybe they’ll pretend to be our friends for a while then turn on us again.”
“I overloaded the weapons that opened the wormholes to heat planetary cores. All the worlds are now safe. The Federation will install safeguards to make sure that can’t happen again.”
“The Zin will allow your safeguards?”
“Yes.”
A mysterious and almost compelling computer voice, the voice of the Zin, answered for Kirek. “The Zin will permit Federation supervision.”
“What about us?” Angel asked.
The Zin didn’t hesitate. “You are free to go in peace. We will escort your ship to a portal to speed you on your way home.”
And so the Zin treaty was left for the arbitrators of peace to negotiate. Meanwhile, Angel had her own problems.
BACK IN THE Milky Way Galaxy aboard the
Raven,
Angel sat at the helm of her ship, staring out at the stars. Ever since they’d returned to the
Raven,
she’d been out of sorts with the way the mission had ended. She didn’t know what to think about the Zin. Or about Kirek’s risking their lives for a chance at peace.
She was irritated with herself for feeling annoyed at losing the Zin home world for salvage. Obviously, even she could see that turning the Zin into an ally would benefit the Federation far more than killing them all. Her personal disappointment seemed petty after all that had occurred.
Yet, she still hated her debt to Kirek for the
Raven’s
upgrades. She supposed the new ship systems would allow her to find many more prizes, but still owing him for the upgrades irked her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him—she simply wanted any relationship between them to be her choice, and without the Zin homeworld to salvage, she might be paying back Kirek for her ship’s retrofitting for centuries.
Kirek slipped behind the console beside her. He’d been so busy sending reports back home, they’d had no chance for a private conversation. “The mission didn’t turn out as we’d planned.”
“No, it didn’t,” she snapped, not certain she was ready to talk. While brooding hadn’t helped her feel any better, she suspected arguing with him wouldn’t either. While she was saddened that their time together was coming to an end, she had to face that soon they would say goodbye.
“Tessa and Kahn have asked me to come home to Mystique. The Federation Council is in an uproar. According to Kahn, Tessa is fed up with politics, and she thinks my statements will help the delegates reach a consensus.” Kirek spoke as if choosing each word with care.
She didn’t understand how the distance between them had grown so quickly. They were talking like two polite strangers—not lovers. While she wanted to bridge the gap between them, she didn’t dare. She already had too many feelings for Kirek.
When she remained silent, he placed his hand on hers. She jumped but didn’t draw away. She’d missed his touch, and soon he would be gone. What harm could there be in enjoying a bit more of his affection? “I’d like to show you my home and introduce you to my parents and friends.”
Her heart ached. “Why?”
“They wish to thank you for all you’ve done.”
At his words, she did pull her hand away. She’d been inside his mind. She knew the way he felt about her. She returned some of those feelings, and yet, she would feel just as trapped on his world as any other. “I’ll take you. But I
…
won’t
…
stay—at least not for long.”
“I know.” He sighed. “When our psi merged, I realized that the
Raven
will always be your home.”
Kirek’s sense of duty to his people and his parents was so strong that he’d never leave them to come with her. He’d missed them all terribly during his long years of separation. Deep in his soul he longed to be with those he loved as much as she yearned to stay aboard the
Raven.
She probably should have refused to take him to Mystique. But she wanted to meet his family and friends. She wanted to spend more time with him. Just a few more self-indulgent weeks
…
Her heart might break when she said the final goodbye, but the damage was already done. Kirek already meant more to her than she’d ever intended.
So she might as well enjoy him for a bit longer.
AND ENJOY KIREK, she did. They made love repeatedly during the journey to Mystique and Angel discovered that the
Raven
had many facilities conducive to relaxation. After living in space for so many years, Angel had forgotten how lovely making love could be in a pool of warm water or on a blanket on a hot sand beach. She’d enjoyed every moment she’d shared with Kirek in the recreation facilities that could duplicate the pleasure pools of Lazpar IV or the pink powder sand beaches of Denbub’s third moon. But Kirek’s lovemaking made every encounter special and poignant as if he too was well aware that they had to live a lifetime of loving during the journey to Mystique.
They’d made an unspoken pact not to discuss the future. Instead they slept and made love and watched old holovids, fed one another delicious meals, and enjoyed their vacation. Angel thought she’d be ready to leave him when they reached Mystique and hoped she’d tire of his company, that their lust would wear off and she could meet his friends and family and say goodbye with no regrets.
But as she viewed Mystique’s green mountains from the vidscreen with trepidation, she realized that all too soon she’d have to share Kirek with those he loved. So many times she’d wanted to ask him to come with her, but as she’d seen the eagerness in his eyes as he spoke to those at home, she knew his heart was with his family. He’d been gone for almost nine long years, and asking him to consider leaving before he’d arrived would have been selfish.
Kirek came up behind her, placed his hands around her waist, tugged her against him, and placed his chin on her shoulder. “So what do you think? Isn’t Mystique a beautiful world?”
If he was hoping to convince her to stay, it wouldn’t work. She was already dreading going down there. “I didn’t expect the spaceport to be so busy.”
“After the Zin destroyed the Federation capital, Mystique became the temporary home of the ruling council. Kahn says they want to make it permanent, but Tessa, Mystique’s leader, isn’t pleased.”
“Why not?”
“You can ask her yourself.” Kirek nipped her neck, sending a delicious tickle down her back. “Ready to meet everyone?”
She hesitated. “You should go alone. Your parents haven’t seen you in years. I’ll be in the way.”
Kirek’s tone was light, eager. “Miri and Etru can’t wait to meet you.”
“What did you tell them about us?” she asked.
“That you kiss like a sweet dream. That when I hold you, I’m happy. After we make love, all I can think about is how long until we can do it again.”
She turned around and glared at him. “I’m serious.”
“Will you relax? My mother and father will be so happy to see me, they won’t care who I bring with me.”
She raised a brow. “So they won’t like me for myself?”
“They’ll adore you because you saved my life more times than I can count.” He gripped her arms, his eyes searching. “Besides, why do you care what they think? It’s not as if you’re planning to stick around for very long.”
“Planets, homes, and families make me edgy,” she admitted.
He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the shuttle bay. “Since nothing I say is going to change your mind, we might as well get going.”
That he’d let her off the hook and hadn’t pressed her should have made her feel better. But her stomach knotted. Even piloting the shuttle down to the family’s private landing strip did little to calm her nerves. She was about to meet living legends—Tessa Caymen and Kahn of Rystan. Dora—a living computer—and her husband Zical, plus Kirek’s parents and cousins and assorted kids.
She should have dropped him off and left immediately. But she would never have forgiven herself for missing this opportunity. If she didn’t like his family she could always make up an excuse to leave. Angel really was comfortable in most social situations—probably because she didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. But now … she wanted these people to like her, and it bothered her that she cared so much.