Tethered (17 page)

The corridor continued its upward curve. As they approached, the ornate double doors slid aside to reveal a vast empty chamber ahead, gray metal walls reaching high into the darkness. In the center stood a table of the same blue-gray metal and, opposite, the two Tier-vane representatives stepped through a similar door. The four of them marched toward the table as though coming to a duel, steps measured and purposeful.

Tyree fought down the quiver in her gut and drew herself to her full height, head raised. She came as Inc-Su and human delegate, one of the four most powerful people in the galaxy at that moment. The fate of a thousand inhabited worlds rested in the palm of her hand. She bunched her fist and thought of that. Of the Inc-Su in Refuge who would suffer if this treaty failed. Of the human worlds that would die. Even the alien allies of the humans would feel it at the end. It was no longer a case of protecting Zander. It was the entire known universe.

The four delegates reached the table together. The white surface of the table was etched with elaborate black script in three strips. The central one in Universal. To the left, the human version. To the right, a copy written in the ancient pledge language of the Tier-vane. Each corner of the treaty had a scarlet rectangle—the place where they must put their palm prints as their signature. All four must sign. Then two must speak the words that bound them.

And then it’s over...

The words were hollow. She’d go back to Refuge and never see Zander again. Because once this was done, so was Zander’s purpose in life. He’d be seeking his death and there was nothing she could do to stop him. It left her feeling sick.

They met at the table, and Tyree bowed her head just as her fellow delegates did. A see-vu hovered above them, the only contact to the universe outside Neutrality. The whole signing would be transmitted to every sentient being with access to the see-vu network, and on community screens for those without.

Both Tier-vane spoke a greeting in the yowls and hisses of their tongue. Tyree knew the translation. She’d read it a dozen times since her assignment had begun, though once was enough for the words to stick. As the Tier finished, Tyree licked her lips and prepared to return the greeting in time with Zander. As one they spoke. “On behalf of the allied Territories of humanity and all the worlds therein, and in accordance with our treaty, we greet you in friendship in a place of Neutrality, in high hope of another century of peace between us.”

Tyree felt a cold prickle spark down her spine as she finished. A strange sense of deja-vu. As the Monitor in Neutrality read out the basic terms of the accord for the benefit of the viewers, she reached out to touch the auras of the Tier-vane. Nothing but grayness answered.

Shielded. But why?

As the broadcast continued, Tyree let her gaze wander. More than the shielding bothered her. Another sensation she knew, like a heavy weight in her chest, pressing her down. Holding her prisoner. Panic set her heart racing as she discovered the source of her discomfort. The Tier-vane Meso wore a Tether device on his wrist.

The delegate smiled as Tyree tore her gaze from the device and up to his face. He knew she’d identified it. Her chest tightened as the voice of the Monitor droned on. This was a trap. The final one. Had it been Meso all along?

“Place your palms to the accord in acceptance.”

Tyree bit her lip. What could she do? If she denounced the Tier-vane now, would the treaty be violated? Her life and Zander’s would be forfeit either way. If she kept silent and the treaty was signed, at least the Territories would be safe? But the plan was surely to break the treaty?

As each delegate placed their hands, the red light in each corner changed to green. Sweat dampened her palm. The others had already pressed their palms to the treaty. Now it was her turn.

It was too late to break the accord. One touch and it was done. At least, providing the palm ident recognized her as Mirsee and didn’t reveal the human deception now.

She touched the corner. The next few heartbeats took an eternity as the rectangle remained red. It hadn’t recognized her as Mirsee. It knew she was a fake. The treaty was broken.

Red turned to green, and she started breathing again. It was done.

Something paralyzed her. She tried to speak, to move, but nothing happened. A fog clouded her mind. The speech by the Monitor had come to an end.

“Mirsee?”

The voice sounded distant, distorted. Despite her efforts, she slid sideways, toppling to the floor.

“Mirsee!” From the corner of her eye, she saw Zander reaching for her. Pain throbbed down her side where she’d hit the ground.

“Do not distress yourself, Master D’joren. I will take her out for medical attention. Since we have all put our palms to it, the treaty only requires a representative of each side to swear the oath and sign. I am sure it is just the stress of it all. We have been under such pressure.”

No, no, it isn’t, they’ve done something...

She tried to mouth the words, to call to him, but only a whimper came from her throat. This was wrong—they’d done something to her!

Fear chilled her soul. The psi-weapons! G’vorek had warned her. The Tier-vane could neutralize a Su.

Zander knelt by her, his gaze fixed on hers and his hand on her shoulder. The concern in his face made her want to scream.

It’s them! They’ve done this!

Meso moved Zander from her line of sight.
No, no, I want him here, don’t take him!

“I want to go with her,” Zander protested as the Tier-vane lifted her limp body.

“Of course. You have medical facilities aboard your ship?”

“No, none.” Zander clasped her shoulder, but even that barely registered on her skin. Why was she so numb?

“Then you are both welcome to make use of our vessel.”

“Master D’joren.” The cold tones of the Monitor chimed in. “You and Tier-vehk Lusinn must complete the negotiations.”

“Not without Mirsee.”

“To leave now would void the agreement. You would risk violating the treaty?”

“I will not abandon her!”

Oh, Mothers and Fathers...
Despite the psi-weapon, tears crowded her eyes. She saw him reach for her hand.
Zander!

“You and Tier-vehk Lusinn must speak the oath together. Lady Mirsee clearly cannot. You have but moments to complete your mission, Master D’joren, or you throw your peoples into war.” The Monitor drifted closer, the eyes of the universe upon Zander. “Is that what you wish?”

Zander’s brow furrowed. His gaze latched onto Tyree’s, begging for her understanding. His mouth twitched, as if words fought to break free. “I will speak the oath,” he rasped in the end. “But if any harm comes to her...”

Meso showed his serrated teeth in something that could have been a snarl. “You are still under the protection of Neutrality. Why would I harm a fellow diplomat before completing the treaty?” His words seemed carefully chosen. Why emphasize the fact that the treaty was not yet concluded?

Inside her head she screamed as Zander’s bewildered gaze met hers. He remained at the table and watched her be taken until Meso blocked her view of him.

No. No!

The smell of musk and damp fur filled her nostrils. She had no control over her limbs. No ability to Mist out, to even whimper a protest. The total impotence she felt set her heart hammering faster than rapture. She wanted to throw up in her terror, but even that release evaded her.

The corridors of the neutral conference hall gave way to a docking tube. Lights above streaked bright blurs across her sight. Unfamiliar walls passed by. Cold certainty froze her to the core. This wasn’t a medical facility. This was a ship, and it wasn’t Terran. Meso was taking her aboard his Tier-vane transport.

Her throat seized. Panic crushed her chest. Her mind blanked. The entry lock gave way to a smaller, darker corridor leading deeper into the ship. A door whooshed aside, and Meso carried her in then slammed her onto the bed within. She landed like a dead thing, limbs loose. She couldn’t move as he leaned over her, his face so close his breath burned her skin with its heat. “I’ve always wanted a pet...”

In her mind, she began to scream.

Chapter Twelve

He was coming again. She felt the familiar rhythm of his footsteps along the metal corridor leading to her cell. His name no longer held any meaning, any more than her own might have done. He was master, and she was pet. Slave. Filth. Whatever he chose to call her. Whatever he made her do, or whatever he did to her. She was bad, and all he did was give her the punishment she deserved. She now knew the sound of his footfalls better than the frenzied pounding of her own heart.

Sometimes, in those blessed moments between his visits, part of her mind wondered exactly what she’d done to merit such punishment. But then he would come again, and blood would flow. Pain would tear through every shred of her being until she had no voice left to scream, to beg. And then she would know. She deserved it, just as he kept telling her, with every blow that landed on her broken body. He had beaten her again and again, until she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t hurt.

Except when she slept. Those few blissful moments of escape when she seemed to remember another man. One who had held her gently. One who had filled her with such light that it would seem blinding against the darkness she knew now. Someone who had loved her. And yet he’d hurt her too. He’d allowed this to happen.

She didn’t know how many days and nights had passed when the explosions came. The vibrations strummed through her cell, through her nerves. She whimpered and coiled into a tighter knot. Perhaps this was a new punishment for her. Perhaps he had something special planned this time.

Fire blossomed around her door and she covered her eyes. Debris sliced across her skin, hot splinters that stung. She buried her face against her knees and clutched her arms over her head. The sound of weapon-fire and explosions, of screams and shouts, poured into her prison. The stench of scorched metal. The tang of blood.

A part of her woke. Remembered. She had killed before. Fought before. Perhaps if she got up now, got out through that open door, she could escape. She could be free of her master.

But it was so hard to move when everything ached, when fear shivered through her veins. If she tried and he found her, he would be angry. So very angry. And he would punish her further.

She moaned. She couldn’t take that again. Not anymore.

“Tyree!”

Something inside her sparked at that name, a memory so fragmented she couldn’t find the word for it. She knew the name.

“Tyree!”

Hope and a sudden surge of energy warmed the chill of her body, eased the ache. She uncurled herself. Smoke coiled into her cell through the blasted door. The cacophony of battle still rang in the corridor outside. But she wasn’t afraid of that.

She crawled across the floor, the pain in her legs too much for her to stand. The acrid tang of discharged energy weapons burned the lining of her nose and throat. A Tier-vane soldier lay in the corridor just outside her door, his back a charred mess. A thread of disappointment touched her at the discovery. It wasn’t
him
. The fur was dark gold with black strands—not tawny like his.

The sound of weapons firing and the snarls of the Tier-vane seemed to be moving away. Didn’t they know she was here? Hadn’t she heard someone calling her name? Or had she imagined that? Imagined they’d come to rescue her because that’s what she’d been hoping for? Perhaps this was all just a hallucination.

“Tyree.”

Her breathing stuttered. The voice had been closer, and it wasn’t a dream. Someone was calling her name, coming this way. She tried to answer, but her voice had died; her throat raw from screaming so loud and for so long. She kept on crawling, past the dead felinoid on the ground, over shards of metal that sliced her palms and knees, but that didn’t matter. Someone was coming through the smoke toward her. Someone was coming for her, and it gave her the strength to scramble to her feet.

Meso emerged from the smoke, his orange eyes distended in fury. She managed a sob as he seized her hair and shook her like a rag. “Sssuuu bitch!” he spat, and dragged her back the way she’d come. Her legs, battered and weak, gave out under her and she fell. His foot caught her once, twice in the ribs as he screamed at her to get up. She lay and took it, because she just couldn’t move, couldn’t get up. She was ready to die now, and the additional pain seemed a distant thing as a growing darkness swamped her mind.

“Tyree!”

Only the sound of her name kept her conscious. It demanded that she listen, that she stay awake. That she answer. The voice called her back and held her.

She heard Meso snarl and roar a challenge. With the last of her strength, she pushed herself off her stomach and onto her side as someone else ran at Meso and punched the felinoid hard in the face.

Meso’s head snapped back and he yowled, before both taloned hands swiped at his opponent. In the smoke, with her sight blurred by pain and disorientation, she couldn’t see the blows land, only heard the hissed intake of breath that meant Meso must have hit his mark. She looked up and someone sprang out of the smog, his scarred face set and his cheek scored by red lines where the claws had caught him. Armored gloves encased his hands, augmenting his blows as he double-punched Meso, blocking the Tier-vane’s repeated attempts to slash across his brown eyes. Blood trickling from his nose and mouth, Meso staggered backward with a gargled yowl. The man—a human, his face so familiar—stood braced, fists raised, as if taunting the Tier-vane to keep trying, to give him an excuse to hit him again.

Zander…
The name rushed into her mind like golden light. His eyes flickered sideways, caught her gaze.

No, don’t look at me, don’t...

Meso launched himself at Zander and flattened him in that instant of distraction. Zander punched up once, and then raised a knee and pounded Meso in the stomach and chest until he managed to shrug off the Tier-vane. Both struggled to their feet. Another slashing blow by the felinoid ripped the front of Zander’s black uniform, and earned Meso another crushing blow to the nose that sent him backward, roaring his frustration. He came forward again, and this time his blow knocked Zander sideways to collapse on top of her.