Shades of Gray (91 page)

They both came away emotionally drained, yet pleased to have talked to their children again after so long. Carrie fought hard to keep back her tears, aware she was missing so much of their childhood yet knowing that unless they completed this mission, they might not live to grow older.

Kusac had timed the calls well because as soon as they were each finished, they had to go and prep for landing on Ch’almuth. That meant getting into their armor, collecting their weapons, and making sure their packs were ready to be picked up as they debarked.

The equipment they’d need for remaining on M’zull, plus the powered backpacks that would allow them to land safely, were still packed in containers and wouldn’t be unloaded from the
Couana
until it returned after they had gained control of the tithe ship.

Toueesut was due to drop them off on the surface then rendezvous with L’Seuli on the far side of the moon, ready to come to their aid if need be.

 

“Long-range scans be showing no sign of M’zull craft in system,” said Toueesut over the intercom. “Ch’almuth weather station contacted us and saying we cleared for landing.”

“Copy that,” said Kusac in his mic from his position by the MUTAC. Of all the team members, only he and Rezac were unarmored. As Sholans, they couldn’t get into their Prime battle suits.

“Send the message to Commander L’Seuli now,” he continued.

There was a slight delay, then, “Message sent. Answer we’ll bring when we return for you.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Please be preparing for entry and landing.”

There was a slight slowing of the
Couana
and an increase in their weight, and then they were in the planetary envelope.

“Lovely piece of engineering, and flying,” murmured Kaid’s voice through his headset on the Command channel.

“Aye,” he replied, his eyes going from person to person, checking them over, making sure their visible weapons were held safely.

It hardly seemed any time at all before, with a slight jolt, the
Couana
landed, and the engines began to power down to an idle.

“Opening dorsal bay doors and loading ramp. Please be standing clear,” came Toueesut’s voice.

With barely a sound, the clamshell doors slid back, and the ramp began to lower and extend.

“We be wishing you good luck,” said Toueesut, “but we know you will not be needing it. Safe to debark now, Captain Aldatan.”

“Thank you, Toueesut. We’ll see you in a few days,” Kusac replied before giving the order for team leaders to exit.

Kaid led the exit, and through his Link to him, Kusac was aware of him ordering his unit to fan out to form a defensive pattern that the other teams joined.

“All clear,” said Kaid once they were all in position outside. “You’re clear to exit now.”

Kusac gestured to Rezac, and together they guided the floater containing their Prime combat suits down the ramp and onto Ch’almuth.

“Let’s get under cover now,” said Kaid, gesturing toward the nearby warehouse with his rifle. “I can see a dust cloud heading toward us.”

“M’zayash,” said Kusac succinctly using the Command channel. “The Elder of the village near here.”

“How can you be sure?” Kaid asked as he watched their troops head off in an orderly unit.

“She just contacted me mentally,” he replied dryly. “It’s a welcoming group.”

As they entered the warehouse, they heard the
Couana’s
engines rising in pitch then accelerate as it took off.

Kaid reached up to release his helmet, telling the rest over the comm that they could remove theirs. Then he waited with Kusac at the open doorway as the two flatbed transporters drew closer.

Carrie joined them. “So who is this Elder M’zayash?”

“One of the village leaders. Think Noni with even more attitude and you’ll be close,” he said, flashing a smile at her. “And as powerful a telepath,” he added.

The transports slowed as they approached the entrance, then floated slowly past them to come to a halt just inside. Kusac turned and, reaching out to take Carrie’s gloved hand, led her over to the one on which an elderly Ch’almuthian female sat.

“M’zaynal,” he said, inclining his head to her.

“So here you are again,” she said. “As good as your word and that of your General Kezule.”

“Of course. Did you doubt us?” he asked, feeling her cool mental probe and easily deflecting it this time.

“Not once the Touibans arrived to fix our shuttles and the weather station,” she said, a faint smile on her lips as she turned her attention to Carrie. “Who’s this with you? I haven’t seen your kind before, child.”

“My wife,” said Kusac. “Also with me are my brother and his brother, and my best Prime warriors. We’ll put an end to the tithe the M’zullians are exacting from you.”

She nodded. “And so the war begins.”

“Would you rather let them continue to take your young ones?” asked Carrie, raising her chin in defiance as she returned the Elder’s stare.

“My, you’re a feisty one,” chuckled M’zaynal. “I like your mind-mate,” she said, looking back at Kusac. “Good to know you have one more than your equal. No male should get too complaisant! Now load your people up; you’re guests at our village for tonight. Tomorrow you can rough it here on the warehouse floor, but tonight, we welcome you all.”

“Thank you for your hospitality. Load ’em up,” he said to Kaid, pointing to the other, empty transport.

As he turned to walk toward it, M’zaynal stopped him. “No, you and your wife will join me on this one. You remember Nishon and Shikoh?” she said, gesturing to her companions.

“Indeed. You were expecting a child, weren’t you?”

“We have a lovely young son,” said Shikoh with a smile. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“And how is your son Shaidan?” asked M’zaynal as Kusac passed Carrie up into the transport.

“Our son is well,” said Carrie, her tone slightly stiff as she sat down on one of the bench seats. “As are our other three children.”

“You have four children?” said Shikoh, a tinge of awe in her voice. “Rashuk is our first. You don’t look old enough to have that many children.”

“I had twins,” said Carrie, unbending a little as Shikoh got up and joined her.

“You did? You’re so different from your husband, though. Are they like you or him?”

“Mothers always find something to talk about,” observed M’zaynal as Kusac leaped on board. “So whom do your children look like? You or her?”

“Us,” said Kusac, sitting opposite her.

“That’s no answer.”

He sighed. “Like me, but she is as Sholan as me where it matters, and I as Human as her.”

“Hm,” she said as the transporter started to move. “You’re looking better than you did last time. Your mind is healed now.”

He felt a light touch on his knee and looked up to find Shikoh leaning toward him. “We’ve had beds made up in the meeting hall for you and your people. After you break fast in the morning, we’ll bring you back here, as we know you have much to do to prepare for the arrival of the tithe ship.”

“Thank you, and yes, we have a lot still to do. I need to hear details from you of what happens after the craft lands so we can finalize our plans tomorrow. One thing, though,” said Kusac, glancing at Carrie. “Once we have our troops settled, Rezac and I have to assume a disguise.” He suddenly realized that by changing, he was playing right into the heart of their legend. There was no option, though; he and Rezac had to change as soon as possible so they could get used to wearing alien bodies.

Carrie made a small growling noise, drawing all eyes to her.

“Your wife seems not to like the idea,” observed M’zaynal.

“She has suffered much at the hands of the M’zullians,” said Kusac.

“They killed my twin sister,” Carrie said. “The thought of Kusac looking like one of them for the foreseeable future is not a pleasing one.”

“We’ll need a quiet place to do it. One with a floor of stone or wood, and protected from your telepaths. It takes a lot of concentration, and if our minds are touched while we change, I don’t know what could happen.”

“This sounds like a lot more than a disguise,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she looked from him to Carrie. “I wonder if you are the Zsadhi of our legends.”

“Don’t tell me you have that legend too,” he growled, frowning.

“Of course we do!” she said sharply. “It belongs to the Valtegan people, not one caste.”

“How did you find out they think it’s me?” he demanded, still keeping his voice low. “Have you been reading my people?”

She hissed softly in amusement. “I don’t need to do that. You wear your geas like a second skin! You might well be him, we’ll see.”

“The gullible will always see what they want,” he muttered.

“And you’re depending on that,” she said tartly. “Just remember, the M’zullians will have the same legend. You may be able to use that to your advantage when you stay behind!”

Kusac glared balefully at her. “You’re as bad as our Noni!” he said.

“It’s not my job to give you platitudes,” she said, moderating her tone. “It’s to make you face uncomfortable truths, to think again, to look from a different perspective. To help you understand the legend.”

“Right,” he said, lapsing into silence.

 

Cots had been set up in one end of one of the larger meeting rooms, leaving plenty of room for the suits of armor to stand overnight. Washrooms and toilets were nearby.

Once a guard roster had been set up to watch the room at all times and monitor the radio connection to the weather station for any advance news of the early arrival of the tithe ship, it had been agreed by Kusac and his team leaders that the troops could relax with the locals that evening.

That done, Kusac requested the shielded room for him and Rezac. With Carrie, Jo, and Kaid accompanying them, Nishon led them to another building that proved to be a chapel to their agricultural deities.

“It’s very like the one in the Palace,” said Carrie, looking around the painted murals on the walls.

“This way, please,” said Nishon, leading them past the altar and down a corridor to a side chapel.

Kusac took one step into the chapel and stopped. As the scent of the flowers there filled his nostrils, a sense of prescience settled like a mantle on his shoulders. He knew he was stepping out of his life into the one chosen for him by the Entities. It was as if he could feel Ghyakulla standing on one side of him and L’Shoh on the other.

Rezac bumped into him, jostling him forward.

“You’re blocking the door,” he said, pushing past him.

He turned to one side, leaning against the door as the others filed in. Carrie stopped beside him, taking his hand in hers.

“You’ll still be my Kusac,” she whispered, leaning against him. “And I will still love you, even as a Valtegan.”

He held her hand tightly, aware of the sense of expectancy in the very air. The choice was his alone to make. This was the final test. He must choose of his own free will to enter and become the Cleadh Mor, the Caliburn, or refuse and let war ravage their worlds. He stepped into to the room, Carrie close by his side. Under his feet, the flagstones felt cool.

“What deity is this?” Rezac was asking as he walked over to what was obviously the central image. “I thought you were a peaceful community here—this is a warriors’ chapel!”

“It’s the Chapel of the Deliverer, isn’t it, Nishon?” said Kusac, looking at the walls and their vivid paintings.

“M’zaynal thought it fitting,” said Nishon. “It is indeed the Chapel of the Zsadhi.”

As he looked, he saw beyond the paintings and imagery, to the times Conner had recounted. There was painted the City of Discord and the warring castes, dominated by the Warrior M’zullians; yet overlaid on it were the warring clans of the Scots lowlands, fighting over land and herds. He saw the deities calling forth a Champion, arming him with a sword of magic, sending him forth to gather allies so they could ride against those who brought discord and famine to the land.

A shudder ran through him as he forced himself to look away from the murals. “Let’s do this,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

Kaid nodded. “Rezac first, as you decided,” he said.

“I’ve been asked to stay, if I may,” said Nishon.

“Why?” demanded Rezac, beginning to undress.

“They need a witness,” said Kusac, letting go of Carrie’s hand so he could undo his belt and remove his jacket and tunic.

“A witness to what?” asked Kaid, swinging around to look at him. “And why this chapel? Are you trying to Link them to the Zsadhi legend?”

Nishon looked shocked. “No! We would never fabricate that! If he is the Zsadhi, it will be obvious.”

“Shut the door, Nishon,” said Kusac, handing his belt to Carrie, then his jacket. “Forget the legend, Kaid. Let’s just do what we came here to do and get it over with.”

“Aye,” said Kaid, sitting down on the floor as Jo took the last of Rezac’s clothes from him, putting them down by the door in a tidy pile.

Carrie did the same with Kusac’s clothes then joined him and Kaid as Rezac sat down on the floor beside them.

Kneeling beside him, Jo and Rezac exchanged a kiss; then she moved back to sit with Banner, completing the circle around Rezac as he lay back on the floor.

They’d practiced changing several times in the intervening weeks. Each time it had been easier and less painful. Experiments had proved that they could only change their own bodies; however, they could affect the skin tones of the Primes.

“We’ll monitor you as before,” said Kusac, again taking Carrie’s hand. “Just relax and draw the energy from the earth, then change.”

Rezac slowed his breathing and closed his eyes. For several minutes, nothing happened; then, gradually, his body began to alter. Limbs straightened as his pelt began to disappear. A second body seemed overlaid on his, shimmering slightly as his tail began to shrink and his skin took on a greenish hue. His face was the last to change; as his features flattened, the ears appeared to move downward, level with his newly shaped nose and eyes. He let out a mewl of pain as the image of a M’zullian appeared to sink into his altered body, and the change was complete.