“I don’t want to hear that,” Chokkuh hissed, pushing him aside and striding into the room. “What are you doing to her now?” he demanded, looking down at the obviously unconscious female.
“Keeping her alive,” said J’koshuk dryly.
“I don’t intend her to live,” Chokkuh said, grasping hold of Elise by the jaw and turning her face from side to side.
He didn’t want to look, he couldn’t, but he did. Her face was livid with bruises, as was her body. Her arms and thighs bled sluggishly from several knife cuts as well as many scratch and puncture wounds left by the clawed hands of her captors.
It’s not Carrie,
he thought, trying to force himself to remain detached, but it was impossible when he knew Elise’s injuries were mirrored on
his
Carrie’s body.
“I need to keep her alive long enough to get your information,” said the Inquisitor. “If she goes into shock, she could die.”
Releasing her, Chokkuh reached for the neural prod hanging at the belt of one of the guards. Flicking it on, he pressed it hard against Elise’s ribs.
She let out a piercing scream as her body jerked upward, back arching in agony.
J’koshuk grabbed for the prod and wrenched it from the General’s grasp. “I told you she needs a break!”
Chokkuh raised his hand to hit the priest, but the guards were instantly between them, weapons drawn in readiness.
Kusac’s mind reeled in shock. Had Elise actually felt that? Was she so weak that she was actually feeling pain now?
“She’s my captive now, General,” said J’koshuk coldly. “I suggest you go and play with your soldiers. Have a drill, or an inspection, and let me do my job.”
“I’ll have you on report to the Commander!”
“Do that. He’s just as anxious for the information as you are. I wouldn’t draw any more attention to yourself than you already have, if I were you,” said J’koshuk. “It was your incompetence that allowed her to spy on you in the first place.”
With a loud hiss of displeasure, Chokkuh left.
Still fuming, Chokkuh headed for the Command Center where the military governor, General M’ezozakk, was conducting the search for the aliens who’d escaped from the scout ship they’d shot down a few days earlier.
Heavy blizzards had hampered their efforts, forcing them to remain on their base and covering the aliens’ tracks. The bitter temperatures outside had necessitated them turning up the heating as cold weather made them sluggish. The snow had stopped for now, but the leaden gray skies promised more to come.
As he entered the room with its wall-mounted tactical screens and a dozen workstations, the lights dimmed, then flickered, almost fading before they steadied at half the level they’d been before. The TAC screens abruptly shut down. M’ezozakk hissed in anger.
“Divert the power to the main screen,” he snapped. “Chokkuh, get down to the generator building and see what caused this brownout! I want full power restored here immediately. Shut down whatever you need to achieve it!”
For a split second, Chokkuh contemplated refusing the menial job; then, saluting smartly, he turned on his heel and left. A trip across the bitterly cold compound to listen to more of the Humans’ excuses was preferable to remaining in close proximity to the thwarted Governor General.
He headed along the corridor to the relief guardroom for an escort of four soldiers. They’d learned the hard way that only a show off force kept the enslaved Human population under control. Apart from the rebels who’d left the settlement, the Humans weren’t foolish enough to stage an outright rebellion. They used other, less overt, methods to make daily life on Keiss a constant battle of wills between their species.
The heated light-combat armor was stored here. Once they were suited up, he had the Duty Sergeant punch the day’s codes into the weapons locker and dispense energy rifles. Though all troops stationed permanently on Keiss went armed, armor and rifles were only issued when leaving the Command Center.
Intrigued despite himself, Kusac began to mentally uncurl from the corner of Chokkuh’s mind where he’d taken refuge. He was getting an unprecedented picture of the M’zullian warriors’ lifestyle, albeit on Keiss, but it might expose some weaknesses that would be exploitable. By now, he had realized that as long as he didn’t draw attention to himself, the Valtegan was totally unaware of his presence.
He listened as Chokkuh repeated the orders to the Sergeant before they left the Command Center.
The outside video feed, on backup power, had shown the area around the exit to be clear. Chokkuh ordered the outer blast door opened.
Helmet faceplate open, the freezing air almost burned his nostrils, but it was crisp and clean and a welcome change even to the Valtegan after several days cooped indoors by the severe weather. Kusac could sense his host’s dislike of the cold, and as he carefully probed for more, memories of cold-weather training surfaced. Temperatures like this, below freezing, made them slow and sluggish, and they were trained to find or make a safe shelter, eat at least half their rations, then go into hibernation sleep until found. Kusac filed the information away for later—this was an important aspect of their training that his Prime commandos lacked, and it needed to be addressed as soon as possible.
Power was generated by burning a local fossil fuel mined in the mountains. The storms had prevented the cargo shuttles from collecting fresh supplies. Naturally, the Humans hadn’t bothered to let their overlords know that stocks were dangerously low until now. However, the break in the weather meant six cargo shuttles had gone to collect the coal and were due back anytime. Until then, it was a matter of rerouting power to essential areas.
Chokkuh and his escort headed out into the cold and trudged along the paths cut through the deep snow to the routing station. There he gave orders to close down the recreation dome and route all remaining power to the Command Center, medical facilities, and the sleeping quarters until the temporary fuel shortage was over.
That done, he called the comm center and ordered them to inform everyone to return to their quarters and remain there until they were given fresh orders.
Chokkuh’s memories told Kusac this happened two or three times each winter. The Valtegan hadn’t punished the labor force since the shortage wasn’t technically their fault. Besides, the Humans had a nasty habit of going on strike and refusing to work if any of them were singled out for punishment. Kusac mentally chuckled at the reality of the overlords being at the mercy of a workforce that downed tools at the slightest opportunity. There was indeed much to admire about the Human colonists on Keiss who had helped form the character of the woman he loved more than life itself.
As Head of Security, with much of the base closed down, Chokkuh ordered an extra two units of guards to patrol the dome and the troop quarters. Sabotage was rare, but a situation like this provided an ideal opportunity.
He spent the rest of the day in the Command Center helping to oversee the scouting parties searching the plateau and nearby woods for any signs of the crew of the wrecked scout ship. All they knew for certain was that they were bilateral and ferocious warriors. The firefight there had cost both sides dear, and all they had to show for it, apart from half a dozen of their own dead and wounded, was the burned-out shell of the shuttle and a few charred bone fragments they couldn’t identify.
Heavy snow had covered their tracks, but Chokkuh had known they’d make for the forest and the cover it afforded, so he’d ordered his troops to search there.
By late afternoon, the expected delivery of fuel from the mine had arrived. The first large flakes of snow began to fall as they were unloading, and he had to order the scouters to pick up the search teams before it became the expected all-out blizzard.
All day, Kusac had remained a passive observer. He knew on one level that the other him was aware of Carrie and was struggling through the snow on his injured leg, trying desperately to reach the village in which she lived. Her memories of the terror and agony she’d gone through as J’koshuk tortured Elise were also there.
Chokkuh returned to the interrogation room after his evening meal, standing at the back, listening rather than watching. Unlike J’koshuk and his ilk, who bred among their own to strengthen their sadistic tendencies, he had no interest in overseeing the actual torture. All he wanted were the results.
Kusac tried to ignore the low-pitched whimpers Elise was making by telling himself she was suffering no real pain. It was Carrie who felt every blow, whose body was suffering many of the same wounds. Suddenly she let out a shriek that startled them all.
Without thinking, he reached mentally for Carrie, but her mind was incoherent with pain and terror. He tried to strengthen her, lend her energy, only to realize that in this body, he couldn’t. Instead, he began to send to her before he realized what he was doing.
For a moment, his mind was seized and held, but it was pure instinct, as if she were grasping his hand. Chokkuh moved closer, and as he did, Kusac saw the extent of Elise’s injuries. He wanted to stop them, to save Carrie more pain. He’d finally placed Chokkuh as the Valtegan who had kidnapped Kate and Taynar and killed a brave scouter pilot. Kill him and none of that would happen either.
He could do nothing to help, but perhaps he could at least delay the hunt for his crewmates. So much hinged on this moment of time, yet he couldn’t even risk raging at fate inside his own mind lest he be discovered and all that the future was in his time be unraveled.
His vision blurred, and as his mind was released, he watched clawed green hands moving rapidly—far too rapidly—across the girl’s body, leaving behind a trail of flowing blood and new wounds. Around him, the people flickered and moved, changing positions, coming and going through the door into the room, as time seemed to speed up.
Help me,
said a voice in his mind as Elise looked up at him.
With a gut-wrenching lurch, time slowed down again.
“Well, General?” asked J’koshuk. “Shall I cut her or not?”
“Start with her fingers,” he heard Chokkuh say.
Help me! Save Carrie!
she screamed in his mind.
I will,
he replied as a strange calmness crept over him. This was why he was here. This was the one thing he could and had to do.
She turned her head slowly to look at J’koshuk as he placed the knife over the fingers of her right hand.
“You’ll learn nothing from me,” she said, and she began to laugh as Kusac reached out to touch her heart and still it.
Her body jerked once, her laughter dying as she did. Her face relaxed, then her body went limp.
“She’s dead, you fool!” hissed Chokkuh, but his voice sounded distant as Kusac felt his consciousness begin to fade.
Why did you have to laugh, Elise?
was his last thought.
Kij’ik, next day, Zhal-Arema, 31st day (March)
Kaid taxied the shuttle into the main landing bay of the asteroid, following the signal lights set into the floor to his designated bay. He had to admit to being glad of the opportunity to see the place where his sword-brother had been living for so many months.
“We nearly got found,” said Shaidan.
“Oh?”
“Mmm. It was the
Zan’droshi
, the other Prime ship, and one of the
Watcher
ships. The General still had the ancient ship attached to the side of Kij’ik, and he shut us down and rotated the Outpost to hide it. They cut the gravity.”
What the hell had a
Watcher
ship been doing around the Prime ship?
“Oh, it landed inside,” said Shaidan. “I wasn’t listening to your mind,” he added hastily, seeing Kaid’s look. “I just heard you thinking.”
He grunted. “You should be shielding more strongly, kitling,” he said. “You’ll find yourself unpopular if people know you can hear them all the time.”
“But I can’t. I can only hear my family and . . . you’re family?” he said, his voice faltering.
Kaid raised an eye ridge at the child. “Yes, I’m family.”
“Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, Shaidan,” he said, reaching out to ruffle the cub’s hair between his ears. “Always be as honest as you are now with family, but don’t let yourself be aware of all our thoughts. Everyone is entitled to privacy. I don’t suppose you know which
Watcher
ship it was, do you?”
“Not exactly. I do know that the sept of Cabbarans on it are on K’oish’ik now, though.”
“Are they indeed?” he murmured as he shut down the engines and began to release his harness. Annuur and Tirak’s ship. So they had personal dealings with the Primes, had they?
“You sure you don’t have a problem coming back here?” he asked Shaidan as he helped the youngster out of his seat.
“No. I met my father here. There are no bad memories for me, Pappa Kaid.”