Slave Empire III - The Shrike (36 page)

“Scrysalza,”
she whispered.

The Ship seemed
tired, but content. Its presence buoyed her spirit with pride and
joy. It was glad it had been able to help them, and repay some of
the great debt it and its kin owed to Tarke for sending the
man-things to rid them of the Envoys. It still owed more gratitude,
because six of the man-things who had helped the ships had died,
hence, six ships had answered her call. Next time, there would be
five, and the next, four, until the debt was repaid. After that,
Scrysalza alone would answer, because Rayne was its friend. Rayne’s
heart swelled with happiness, and more tears ran down her cheeks.
She seemed to be an endless font of them today. The Crystal Ship’s
gentle mind soothed her sorrow.

I’m so sorry
you had to suffer,
Rayne thought.
Will you be all
right?

I will
recover,
the ship said.
My wings will grow back, in time. It
is a small sacrifice for the life of the one who freed me. That is
a debt that can never be repaid.

You have my
undying gratitude, and Tarke thanks you, too,
Rayne said, aware
of him beside her. The Ship imparted soft greetings and joy at
Tarke’s continued life, and told her it needed to rest for a while
before it returned to its home. Its kin would remain with it, and
leave when it did. It mourned the death of the people it had
killed, for it hated to harm others, but it had chosen its friend
over those who would kill him, and was glad of it.

If only they
had not wanted to kill him,
Rayne thought,
they would not
have had to die.

Those who
choose the path of death will reap it in the end,
the ship
replied, and Rayne agreed. The delicate mind touch drifted away,
and she turned to Tarke, wiping her cheeks.

“You okay?” he
asked.

She nodded. “A
bit sad, is all.”

He took her
hand. “Come, let’s get me patched up so we can go home.”

“Aren’t we
already on the way home?”

“Yeah. We can
go back to Shadowen, though, or Scimarin.”

Rayne was happy
with that idea, for she longed to be alone with him. The doctors
tended to Tarke immediately, putting him under a sleep inducer
while they treated his wounds and put fresh dressings on them, and
within an hour Rayne and Tarke were aboard Shadowen. He stripped
off his mask and gloves and leant against a console, drew her close
and enfolded her in his arms. She hugged him, pressed her cheek to
his chest and listened to his heartbeat, and he rested his cheek on
her hair. It seemed like an hour that she clung to him, never
wanting to be parted from him again. When at last he released her,
Rayne squeezed past him to fetch drinks. She handed him a fizzy
drell
juice and settled on her chair, sipping her green
munga
juice. The flotilla of black warships was visible
through the crawling golden fire, as well as an occasional
space-scarred freighter and sleek pleasure yacht. It did not
surprise her that every one of Tarke’s people who could find a ship
had come to his aid, but it did fill her with awe and a deep sense
of inadequacy. How could she ever compete with the love of
millions?

“You don’t have
to,” Tarke said.

“You said you’d
stop doing that.”

“Right.
Sorry.”

“Am I shouting
again?”

“You always
do.” He smiled. “I’ll just have to build stronger shields.”

She looked
down. “I’m the reason so many of your people -”

“No. Don’t go
there, Rayne. They came to my rescue, not yours. Yes, I came to
yours, and was stupid enough to get caught. It wasn’t you, it was
me, okay?”

“They would
have, though, if you hadn’t, wouldn’t they?”

He sighed.
“Yes. But they didn’t, because I did, so don’t feel guilty.”

“So you have to
bear the guilt alone? That’s not fair.”

“I can handle
it. It’s not the first time some of them have died for me, although
this is the worst loss. It’s one of the burdens I have to bear for
being their
Dalreen
. I understand them, so I probably don’t
feel as guilty about it as you do. I’m proud of them, and they’re
proud of themselves. They achieved something important today. They
took on the greatest empire in the galaxy, and won. They saved
their
Dalreen
. For an ex-slave, that’s a huge deal. They’ll
be toasting this day for centuries to come. I’ll celebrate it with
them. I won’t sully their pride with self-recrimination for
something they chose to do of their own free wills. Jargan was
extremely careful to make it clear that none of them blames me for
what happened, so I won’t. I’ll blame the Atlanteans, like they
do.”

Rayne nodded
and sipped her drink, and silence fell. She thought about the
amazing event that had just taken place, remembering Tarke
stretched out on the execution block, which, she was convinced, was
burnt into her memory forever. She tried to imagine what it must
have been like for him, lying there with the executioner standing
over him, blade poised, in the instant before Scrysalza had
appeared. Tarke had called her name telepathically, and she had
heard his voice in her mind for the first time. It had been a
whisper, full of sorrow, since he had had to lower his shields to
contact her.

Rayne had
sensed only love mixed with his sorrow; not even fear, and his
words of farewell had broken her heart. She relived the entire
experience in vivid detail, hardly aware of sipping her drink.
Tarke must have been lost in recollections too, for silence reigned
for a long time. When her glass became empty he brought them fresh
drinks, and she thanked him absently. It still seemed unreal, and
she knew it would take a while for the enormity of what had
happened, and what had almost happened, to sink in. His voice
roused her from her reverie, and she focussed on him, aware that a
lot of time had passed.

“Hmmm?”

“Did you find a
solution to your problem on your… sabbatical?”

She shook her
head. “I don’t think there is a solution to it.”

“Because I’m
the problem, aren’t I? My past.”

“No. It’s me.
You didn’t have a problem until I came along. You were fine. You
had a solution that worked for you and you’d have been happy like
that if you’d never met me, so -”

“Rayne…”

“So I’m the
problem, and -”

“Rayne. Stop
it. You’re not the problem. It was me all along, and I put you
through hell. I wasn’t happy before I met you. Now I want what you
want, for there to be no more barriers between us.”

“You’ve been
reading my mind again.”

“Yeah, I know,
I’m rude and sneaky.” He paused, his eyes distant. “I made a
decision when I was lying on that execution block, waiting to die.
I decided to trust you. I wanted to before, but… I didn’t know how
to overcome my own barriers. After sixty-seven years of pain,
subjugation, humiliation and indescribable terror, I couldn’t bring
myself to trust people. Not even you. That was a mistake, and the
reason I reacted like I did, that night. The only way to stop my
reflexes was to decide to trust you. Of course, when I did it, it
also didn’t matter, since I was about to die. That’s what it took
to make me do it. That’s how stupid and stubborn I am.

“Before you
fell into the coma, I was too afraid to even tell you how I felt. I
thought it would make things worse because then you would want more
and I had no more to give. Then I spent five years without you, and
I realised just how much I loved you. Even so, my reactions didn’t
change and that still scared me. After they freed me from the
execution block, I just wanted to hold you. And I had no wish to
let you go.” He raised his eyes and met her gaze.

She swallowed a
lump, hardly daring to believe him.

He held out a
hand. “Come here.”

Rayne rose to
her feet, and he drew her close, raising his hands to brush aside
her fringe and trace the contours of her cheeks. Her breath caught
in anticipation, mixed with trepidation, as his eyes roamed over
her face. He tilted his head, his eyes intent, and the bridge
lights dimmed. The intense allure he exuded made the pit of her
stomach tremble. He leant closer, and his breath fanned her
cheek.

“It’s okay,” he
whispered.

Rayne closed
her eyes as his lips brushed hers in a feather-light caress. He
paused for a moment, then captured her mouth firmly. Her longing to
hold him made her reach for him involuntarily, but she caught
herself and lowered her hands. His was a special kind of magic, one
against which she had no defence; he captivated her the moment he
touched her. Perhaps it was because he was untouchable, and they
shared something so rare. His magnetism drew her to him, and she
had no wish to escape it. She wondered if it was an Antian thing or
a Tarke thing, deciding that it was probably a bit of both, but
more of a Tarke thing. He took hold of her hands and placed them on
his neck, allowing her to run her fingers into the short hair
behind his ears. She became aware that his hands trembled, but
then, so did hers.

Once more her
eyes overflowed at the poignant beauty of this moment, when an
untouchable wanted her to hold him. He had suffered so much and was
loved by so many, but only she had the privilege of sharing his
life and knowing his secrets, or, at least, some of them. This
time, it seemed, she was having as much effect on him as he was on
her, and she sensed no aversion to her proximity in the emotions he
allowed through his shields. She wanted to drag him into the cabin
and rip off all his clothes, and for him to rip off hers and make
wild, passionate love to her.

Tarke laughed,
which spoilt everything, and she cursed her truant thoughts and him
for reading them. He rested his cheek against hers, chuckling, and
she heaved a sigh of regret. He raised his head and held her away,
and she opened her eyes to look at him. He smiled, his eyes
sparkling.

She brushed
tears from her cheeks. “That was definitely illegal.”

“So you don’t
mind seconds, even though you said once was enough?”

“It was even
worse.”

“No more,
then.”

She shook her
head. “Definitely not. I couldn’t handle another.”

“Was it that
bad?”

“Awful.”

“Sorry.”

“No you’re
not.”

His smile
faded. “Rayne… To me, this is a miracle. I had resigned myself to a
lifetime of cold dispassion, dedicating my life to helping others
so they might find happiness, without ever hoping for it myself.
Until that amazing day when you touched my hand and it didn’t
bother me as much as it should have. I couldn’t say no to you, and,
as if that wasn’t bad enough, I had this overwhelming urge to save
you from whatever threatened you, and yourself. Even to the extent
of marrying you when I had no idea how I was going to deal with it.
I just knew that I wanted you close to me, and I… wanted to touch
you, which was the most bizarre thing of all.”

“And now you
want me to touch you, too.”

He nodded.
“Unheard-of, for an untouchable. I always did, deep down; I just
couldn’t allow it. But I’ve almost lost you three times already,
twice before I had even tried to get closer to you, and this last
time I thought I’d never get another chance.”

“I guess you’re
going to put that leash on Shadowen for real, this time.”

“No. I have a
particularly large hang up about freedom, as you can imagine. You
may go where you want, although I do ask that you stay away from
Atlan. I’ll just keep coming to rescue you, even if I don’t
succeed. I’m not much good at rescuing my damsel when she’s in
distress, it seems. I’ve failed twice.” He smiled. “Three times, if
you count the Draycon ship. I even ended up needing to be rescued
myself, by the damsel in question, to my utter shame.”

She giggled and
shook her head. “I’m never going anywhere near Atlan again.”

“Good.”

“And you
haven’t done such a bad job. You saved me from the store guards and
the Draycon ship on Earth, and then from slavery, and on the
Crystal Ship, and again from the drugs. I just get into trouble a
lot, but you’ve been there every time I’ve needed you.”

His smile
broadened. “Lucky for me you have a good memory.”

“Like an
elephant.”

“A what?”

“Never
mind.”

Tarke cocked
his head, looking puzzled. “Did you say I saved you from the
Draycon ship on
Earth
?”

“Yeah. You
didn’t even know you did it. Endrix told me. You chased away a ship
that was bombarding a house, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“I was in that
house,” she said. “In the basement.”

“Huh. I
wondered why it was doing that. It moved off when I approached, and
I fired a couple of warning shots past it.”

“So, you were
my guardian without even knowing it.”

“And now all
your fantasies can come true.”

“I’ll make sure
they do, and I hope you have some, too.”

He laughed and
looked away, and she was convinced that he was blushing, which
struck her as endearing and incongruous for a one hundred and
thirty-six-year-old man.

She smiled.
“Shadowen, brighten lights.”

“No,” Tarke
said.

The lights
pulsed and remained dim. Rayne glared around in mock anger. “Hey!
Whose ship are you?”

The lights
brightened, but Tarke covered her eyes. By the time she prised his
hands away, he had regained his aplomb. She was delighted to
discover that a little flirtation could evince such a cute response
from him now. Something had indeed changed. He seemed to have shed
several layers of inhibition and relaxed by quite a few degrees.
Although he had always had a wonderful sense of humour, she was now
sure she had barely scratched the surface, and he had as yet
unplumbed depths of character she longed to explore. She pulled him
closer again, her heart aching with love for this strange,
wonderful man. He tightened his hold and lifted her off her feet,
turning his head to whisper against her cheek, “Is this close
enough?”