The Lereni Trade (10 page)

"You need to sleep." Torik's gentle
voice did nothing to wake her, but he didn't seem interested in
keeping her awake and pressed her down on the cushions. "We all
need rest. In ten hours, we will arrive on Rahmir."

So soon. That was almost enough to
scare her into full alertness again. Could she carry out any of the
ideas discussed?

She had to. They depended on her. Her
friends depended on her. Torik deserved to be free. This was her
purpose for being there.

When he turned to leave, she snatched
his sleeve. "Stay with me."

"I was going to, after I find a
cushion for your head."

Relieved, she released his sleeve and
closed her eyes.

Sometime during a dreamy haze, she
felt her head lifted and settled onto something soft. Soon after, a
warmth settled over the hand before her and she drifted to
sleep.

Morning came too soon, or the time to
wake up did. Torik stared at the sleeping figure curled up on the
seat, so pink and pale in her hairlessness yet not cold without a
proper coating of hair. But she had been dressed warm for the cold
weather of her location and wore those warm clothes around the
ship.

Krissa was far braver than what any of
them had expected. Even Korr and Theen had been surprised at her
altruism and drawn to it once they saw the truth that he had known
all along.

What could motivate a being to give up
their life? Did the Onduun not value their own lives or was this
something Krissa had learned among the humans? Or was she
inadvertently using her power on them?

It didn't fit with the rumors about
the Onduun. She was selfless in her sacrifice, but she seemed sad
and lacking of any spirit or the confidence of someone with a
purpose, except in giving up her life. Life was to be savored, to
be fought for and valued in its brief flicker in the
universe.

He didn't understand, but he wished he
could make her see a different purpose.

Perhaps he'd pitied her all along,
ashamed of using her to save their world when she'd been so
innocent and unaware of their real purpose. Deceit didn't sit well
with him. But in the short time he'd known her, he'd learned that
she was intelligent and thoughtful, and that was something he
valued. He couldn't betray a friend like this. There had to be a
way to save Krissa. As he'd told Karik, she wasn't an object; she
was a person. And she was braver than anyone he'd met in his
life.

He stared in disbelief at the thing
they had been taught was an enemy. She slept peacefully, despite
the encroaching sacrifice. The Onduun weren't the enemy. She was a
friend, more of one than even Karik could contend, a friend and
ally of the Lereni. There had to be another way to free their
world.

They needed the Inari, but they hadn't
been back to Leisil since the Tah'Na claimed it. The mediators
might object to trading a life, but they would object to the
conditions imposed by the Tah'Na and might know another way to free
their world, if they cared. More than that, he wanted to know why
the Tah'Na valued her so much.

Would it hurt their world to turn her
over? Would this all be for nothing? Why hadn't the Tah'Na
retrieved her? Why demand a Lereni squad to do the work?

The Tah'Na had proven to be deceptive
and greedy, using others for their own gain in whatever way they
could. To what ends did this serve? Certainly it couldn't be good
for Lereni.

The possibilities gnawed at his mind
while he sat up watching her and waiting for the others. Sleep had
been difficult that period. He wondered about the others, who had
yet to emerge from their quarters. In two hours, they would
arrive.

Two hours to contemplate how to save
the one being who most deserved to live in this whole ordeal. She
could teach Karik much, if he'd open his mind to listen.

Two hours Torik might use to change
Karik's mind.

His fingers brushed aside dark hair
from her bare cheek, hair that revealed nothing but fell in her
way. He'd had to rely on her facial expressions and body language,
but she was easier to read than the Tah'Na.

Did the Onduun even have hair in their
natural state? Was that why it didn't move with her emotional
state? He'd never seen one, but the Tah'Na had warned of their
camouflage.

He might not get the chance to learn.
All records had been purged from the ship before the Tah'Na had
released it to their use.

Those who controlled knowledge
controlled the populace. The Tah'Na could say anything and Lereni
wouldn't know any better.

Fingers curled into fists, the points
of claws poking into his palms as if to squeeze their conquerors
into dust.

What did the Tah'Na want with the
daughter of Naperi? That question had replayed in his mind since
meeting Krissa.

What would the Onduun inflict on the
Lereni? Karik hadn't even considered it, or he had but had
determined that the risk of attrition from the Onduun was worse
than further infliction of the rule of the Tah'Na.

In two hours, they would
know.

But by then, it would be too late for
Krissa.

If only there was a way to contact the
Inari.

If only he had known sooner that there was a connection
between them and the Onduun
Seres
and that the connection was the Inari.

The same Inari who would not step in
and aid them in fighting the Tah'Na from their world. As he had
told Krissa, they were a peaceful race. They were not aggressive,
nor did they ally themselves with combatants but remained neutral,
despite the rumored power of their Starfire.

Next to him, the figure inhaled
sharply and twitched.

He held his breath, not wanting to
wake her. The longer she slept, the less time she had to
worry.

To his relief, she fell still again,
her breathing slow and deep.

Torik let out a sigh and caught the
faint scrape of a door. On lighter than usual feet, Karik stepped
from his quarters and crossed the lounge, only his eyes shifting
aside to check Torik while his face stared ahead with the hair on
his head partially standing in a calm demeanor.

Then he was in a fair mood.
Perfect.

Torik eased away from the sleeping
girl to join Karik in the command center, where the door closed
behind them.

"There is no other way," Karik said
without looking up while he checked the controls at the panel next
to his command chair. A readout of their flight path appeared on
the overhead display of the front viewport with separate views of
the ship interior on either side, including the sleeping girl in
the lounge.

Torik stood on the ramp next to where
he had set Krissa down to tend her injured ankle that first night.
There, he had a clear view of Karik's face and any hint of sympathy
he might reveal, although that would be unlikely.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know you're wrong." Karik
paused to check his reaction. "She will never convince the Tah'Na
that she's useful alive. She cannot possibly convince them to spare
Leisil."

"What of the Inari?"

Karik dropped his attention to the
controls at his chair too abruptly to be casual. Torik had struck a
chord that Karik had considered also. There was the string to
pluck.

"The Inari will not interfere in our
conflict, nor should they. This is between Lereni and
Tah'Na."

"Your pride would prevent you from
asking?"

Karik stiffened, his lips pressing
into something fierce but quickly curling back into the beginning
of a snarl.

"You shouldn't have told her
anything!" Karik slammed his hands on the armrests and the display
jumped through a series of readouts. A second later, he was on his
feet towering over Torik in a threatening pose.

They'd gone around once. Torik didn't
intend to openly challenge his captain again and stepped back in a
show of submission. He wouldn't hope to recover in time to save
Krissa, if he survived a second assault.

"She can help us. She's even offered to sacrifice herself,
but if there is any chance of saving her
and
our world…"

Karik's glare eased only after a hint
of trepidation lifted the hair on his head. "She must be handed
over. It's the only way. If she's willing, all the better. Our
world will be free of these vermin."

"If they uphold their
agreement."

A huff blew from the captain, who
returned to his chair.

"Prepare the girl for our arrival." He
spoke while keying in several readouts on the overhead display.
"She should be made appealing."

Torik shuddered at the implications in
that statement and a bitter taste rose in his throat. Karik had
indeed been listening to their discussion.

"If she will have any chance, it will
be to satisfy their sexual fantasies, at least for a
while."

She deserved better, but there wasn't
any other way out of this. If they didn't make the exchange, the
Tah'Na would roast Leisil as a testament to any who dared oppose
them; they had demonstrated that power already in a small way—the
island would likely not support much life for many years. Leisil
had no defense against that kind of power.

With no other choice in sight, Torik
took the dismissal for what it was. The vague notion at the back of
his mind to subdue Karik and alter their course to find help
slipped away before it could fully form.

He returned to the hold, where Korr
checked on Krissa. Torik joined him and considered the resting girl
and the fate she had accepted and the injustice of it all. There
had to be another way.

"He—"

Torik put a hand up in a signal for
quiet then motioned for the crewmate to follow him to the meal
room. He was hungry, and he didn't want to disturb Krissa while
they spoke.

Inside, he lifted the lid on the
storage chest. After tossing a packet to Korr, he snatched one for
himself and barely resisted the urge to slam the lid
shut.

"She trusts me. Do you know what that means? She's doing
this because
I
was kind to her."

"And if we had locked her up, we would
still be making the trade for our world. Either way, Leisil will be
free."

"
If
the Tah'Na are honest. She's taking the decision from us."
Guilt strangled tighter, and he fell onto a seat with the food
pouch meaning nothing. "Don't you see? This is what must be saved.
This is what the Tah'Na fear—true compassion…She trusts me to save
her. She can't want to die."

Korr slid into the seat opposite him.
"You always were soft."

Sometimes he wished he wasn't, but
Torik refused to change. In some ways the Tah'Na were a blessing
after the constant warfare of their world over resources, despite
Tah'Na selfish indulgences and reasons for removing aggressive
populations in those they conquered, like the Lereni. "Our world
needs more of that."

"Does it? That's what the Tah'Na
want—weakness. That's what they hope to make us, by removing
aggressive individuals from mating, by only allowing the docile to
mate."

"Is it weak to care? Is it the Tah'Na?
Many of us didn't want this, Korr. It's the reason for the laws of
the clans to remove those who inflict harm on others." Even while
praising strong warriors, protection from aggression was necessary;
he saw both sides, and it left him confused.

Korr shifted, his fingers playing with
the corner of the food pouch.

"A community can't prosper without
compassion and kindness."

At that, Korr huffed with a wrinkle of
disgust in his nose and the curl of his upper lip and rose. "Or the
fighters to protect those too kind to protect
themselves."

"There's a place for both, but it must
be balanced." The words struck him before the wisdom, or maybe it
was there all along, lying in wait to materialize into the thought
that had been stray pieces wandering in his mind for
years.

At the door, his crewmate paused to
turn back. "But we cannot cow to the conquerors, or we lose who we
are."

Torik raised his food pouch in salute,
glad that the navigator understood.

Korr looked out and said, "For now,
she must prepare for the trade."

Their world for the girl.

She emerged past Korr, who excused
himself past where she stood in the doorway.

A shudder passed through Torik,
lifting the hair on his head briefly in fear of what she might say.
He shouldn't be afraid, but he wasn't afraid for himself. Rather,
he feared for her, and that he could feel so compelled to want to
see her safe rather than sacrificed to the brutality of the Tah'Na
stirred up within him the desire to fight.

"I've made up my mind, and you won't
change it," she said and turned as another figure stopped in the
corridor behind her with a cold expression and flattened hair, a
length of fabric hanging over one arm. "I never fit in anywhere.
I…" She hesitated at the glare from Karik, her throat flashing with
a swallow in the light from the panels above. "I thank you for the
chance to do something meaningful for someone who appreciates
it."