The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga (23 page)

BOOK: The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga
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Michael relaxed and nodded, before realizing that all eyes were still on him.  “What’s
going on Vikter?”

Vikter looked at Garen, who nodded.  “Michael, we suspect some sort of signal was
sent to Sergio Farnswaite, activating a device planted in his body that caused the
explosion.”

Michael nodded, waiting for Vikter to go on, but he fell silent and waited.  Michael
was not considered brilliant for nothing.  It took him only two seconds to put it
all together.

“So the headache I had was a signal going to Farnswaite,” Michael said slowly.  “Which
probably means that the earlier headache was receipt of a signal by something inside
of my head.  If that’s true, then the headaches I had on my way to Berria also had
a devious purpose.”

Vikter swore silently to himself for not having already thought that far.  “You’re
probably right.  I would guess a device inside of you sent data out as soon as you
left the ranch.”

Michael went gray.  He turned around, his eyes searching the room until he found the
person he was looking for.  “Doc, please, find out what’s in me and get it the hell
out.”  His voice was tightly controlled, but everyone in the room heard the horror
and disgust in his tone. 

“Come on over here,” Doc said, walking toward a bed at the far side of the room with
a machine over it. 

“Michael,” Vikter said, following him, “can you think of a time when the Xanti might
have had a chance to do such a thing to you?”

“I’ve been to eight different conferences in the past sixteen months on a variety
of different worlds,” Michael said.  “Now that I’ve seen the Xanti bio-suits, I know
that it could have been done at any time, anywhere.”

Michael climbed onto the table and laid down, trying to relax as Doc pressed buttons
on the scanner panel.  “Now that I think about it, it was probably done after the
conference where I met you, Vikter,” he said.  “It was no secret that you invited
me to come to Jasan.”

“You’re correct,” Vikter said.  “I apologize for putting you in such a position, Michael. 
We should have been more careful.”

“It’s not your fault,” Michael replied.  “I just hope that whatever they did can be
undone.”

“Let’s find out what they did, first,” Doc said.  He pressed another button and a
wide, narrow scanner lowered from the ceiling until it was inches over Michael’s prone
body.  Beginning at his feet, it passed slowly over his body up to his head.  Then
it rose back to it’s docking station in the ceiling and went still.  Everyone waited
tensely for Doc to review the data and display the images on a large screen mounted
on the wall above Michael’s head.

“It’s not a Controller,” Doc said, giving the important news first.  “It’s a micro
data processor connected to what looks like a transceiver.  My guess is that it collected
information, probably from a device within Farnswaite, then sent it upon receipt of
another signal, probably from a Xanti ship.”

“Since Sergio was all over the ranch, and the inside of the Research Center, it’s
safe to assume the Xanti know much more than we imagined,” Garen said.  “They certainly
know we captured a live Xanti, and since Farnswaite went to the Xanti’s cell before
detonating, destroying it was certainly the intent.”

“What’s that?” Lance asked, pointing toward a dark area on the scan near Michael’s
shoulder.  Everyone had been focused on the object in Michael’s head and hadn’t noticed
another object in his shoulder.

“Damn,” Dav said.  “I bet that’s one of those body bombs, like we took out of Lio
just before it went off.”

“The activation signal for the device in Lio penetrated the barrier around the ranch,”
Faron said.  “We should probably get that out as soon as possible.”

“I don’t believe they can do that now that the Damosion has aided us in strengthening
the barrier,” Vikter said.  “The timing of Michael’s headaches, and the duration of
the ones he described when he left the ranch to go to Berria, indicate that information
was sent and received only while he was off the ranch.”

“What about the one I had just before we landed this morning?” Michael asked, then
gave his head a shake.  “Never mind, I got it.  That was the one that sent the signal
to Farnswaite, right?”

“I believe so, yes,” Vikter replied. 

“Which reminds me that I had a headache the first day I arrived here.  It started
suddenly and lasted for a few hours, then stopped just as suddenly.”

“That must have been the device picking up data from Farnswaite,” Vikter guessed.

“This whole things makes me ill,” Michael said.  “Even though the evidence indicates
that the device can’t be activated through the barrier, I want it removed.  Now. 
Please.  Get it out.” 

“Michael,” Doc said.  “We don’t know how this device works, or what might set it off. 
I think the safest way to remove it is the old-fashioned way.”

“I agree,” Michael said.  “Get a knife and get to it.”

“I’ll give you a sedative first,” Doc said, but Michael shook his head. 

“For all we know this thing has a chemical failsafe trigger.  A sedative could detonate
it,” he said.  “Just cut the damn thing out.”

“I’d like to argue with you, but I can’t,” Doc said with a sigh.  “Get your shirt
off.”  Michael sat up as Doc crossed the room, opened a drawer and dug around for
a moment before finding what he wanted.  He returned with an old-fashioned scalpel
that he kept more for its interest than for use.  He flipped on the sterilizing lamp
and held the scalpel beneath it for a long moment, then turned it off and faced Michael.

“What is it?” Doc asked, seeing a surprised expression on Michael’s face. 

“I’m not sure,” he said softly, staring at the lamp.  He looked at Doc, forgetting
the lamp for the moment.  “Go ahead Doc, and don’t worry about me.  I’d rather a neat
cut than a messy explosion.”

Doc sprayed Michael’s shoulder with a disinfectant, then glanced up at the image on
the screen before setting the scalpel against Michael’s skin.  Using quick, sure motions,
he cut into the flesh, then down between two thick cords of muscle.  He set the scalpel
aside and reached for a pair of long, coated forceps.  A few moments later, he held
the device up, looking at it closely before laying it gently on a tray.  Then he cleaned
the wound and used a sealant to close.

During the entire procedure Michael’s face had remained stoic, though the tightening
of his body and neck told the Jasani looking on how much Doc’s procedure hurt.  They
were impressed.  For a brief few moments, they had suspected this man to be a Xanti
spy.  Now, they suspected that, were he not a scientist, he would make a fine warrior.

Trey and Dav took possession of the device, placing it in a protective shell and sealing
it.  If it were detonated, the explosion would be contained.  At the same time, the
shell would allow them to perform a detailed study of the device and learn how it
worked.  It was very tiny, and did not appear to contain any explosive that they were
familiar with.  Therefore, learning how it did work was imperative.  This was their
chance to answer the riddle that not everyone had thought of yet.  Which was, how
the hell did Sergio Farnswaite cause an explosion so big and so intense that it took
out two stone buildings the size of the Research Center and the Infirmary?

“Okay, you’re all set,” Doc said as he stepped away from the bed and stripped off
his gloves.

“Not quite, Doc,” Michael argued.  “I still have a thing in my head, remember?”

“I didn’t forget,” Doc said.  “But in case you didn’t notice, that thing is lodged
in your skull.  I can’t cut it out so easily.”

“I don’t care what you have to do,” Michael said.  “I want it out.”

“Dr. Davis,” Prince Garen said, addressing Michael for the first time.  “I am Prince
Garen.  I would ask you, and it
is
up to you, to allow Doc to go about removing the other device in a way which will
preserve it as much as possible.  This will take more time then simply cutting in
and yanking it free, but it will give us a whole device to study.”

“I understand, Prince Garen,” Michael said.  “As much as I despise having anything
Xanti inside of me, I agree it’s best to have the thing in one piece.”

“Thank you, Dr. Davis,” Garen replied.  “As you are the new head of research here,
I believe you may get some satisfaction from learning more of the Xanti from the device
they used on you.”

“Yes, I will,” Michael said.  “Or would have, I suppose, since there’s no more center
here to head.”

“The Research Center will be rebuilt,” Garen said.  “Don’t concern yourself about
that.”

“Thank you, Prince Garen” Michael said, relaxing a little.  He’d been very disappointed
to realize that the Research Center had been destroyed, and had thought that his new
job had been annihilated with it.  Knowing that he still had a Xanti device in his
body disgusted him, but knowing he still had a job went a long way toward helping
him get over it.

“How long do you think it will be before you’re able to remove it, Doc?” he asked. 
“I know you have your hands full with those injured from the explosion.”  As he spoke,
Michael remembered Honey.  He sat up and looked across the room.  As far as he could
tell, there’d been no change in her.

“I’d like a run down on Honey’s injuries,” he said to Doc.

Doc shot a quick glance to Vikter, then to Honey where she lay with Lance and Hunt
standing beside her bed, then to Michael.  “Of course,” he said, before rattling off
the injuries.  “The one I’m most concerned about is the head injury,” he finished. 
“Jareth will be here in a couple of hours, after he’s had a chance to rest.  He has
promised to heal her first.”

Michael looked over to where a row of four beds held other victims from the explosion. 
Then back to Honey, Doc, and Vikter.  Something was going on here that he didn’t know
about. 

“I’ll be able to remove that thing in your head in about an hour,” Doc said. 

Michael nodded as he pulled his shirt on and hopped off the table.  He walked toward
Honey, noting the rising tension in Lance and Hunt as he approached.  Their behavior
was familiar somehow, but he couldn’t think why.  Just as he reached the bed, the
door opened and Berta entered with the Falcorans.  Michael stepped back out of the
way as Berta rushed forward and hovered over her niece for a long moment.  He watched
as Vikter explained to her what had happened, and assured her that Honey would be
healed.  He listened to them discuss the explosion with the Falcorans, who had overseen
the first rescue efforts at the scene, but had missed the more recent events.  And
through it all, he began to understand what it was he was seeing.

He moved forward to speak with Berta for a few minutes, and greeted the Falcorans. 
He joined the conversation while thinking about everything that had happened since
their arrival on Jasan.  It didn’t take him too long to decide what he
should
do.  What he
could
do, without breaking his word, was another matter.  Therefore, it took him far longer
to make up his mind as to what he
would
do.

The Falcorans offered to use their small amount of Water Magic to help Honey’s head
wound.  Michael watched, mesmerized, as the nasty gash on her head grew smaller, and
some of the bruising faded.  He thanked them profusely, though they seemed embarrassed
that they were unable to do more.

A few minutes later the Falcorans left, taking their Arima home with promises that
they’d be notified if there was any change in Honey’s condition.  By then, Doc’s hour
was nearly up.  He wanted to do something before Doc cut into his head, just in case. 

“Vikter,” he said in a low voice when the four of them were alone around Honey’s bed. 
“I don’t have much time, so just tell me, yes or no, is Honey your Arima?”  The Vulpirans
froze for a long moment, their reaction confirming his guess before the words were
spoken. 

“Yes, she is,” Vikter replied.  “You have my word, Michael, we would never do anything
to dishonor you, her, or ourselves.”

“I never imagined you would, Vikter,” Michael said.  “I know that in some ways I’m
blind, but I’m not that blind.  I only have a few moments, but I wanted to tell you
before Doc knocks me out that there’s a lot less in between you and Honey than you
suppose.”

“What do you mean?” Vikter asked, hope rising so fast he felt almost dizzy. 

“I would tell you if I could,” Michael said.  “I’m sorry, but I am bound by my word. 
I can say only that when Honey awakens, you may tell her that I give my full permission
for her to tell you three the full story, including my secrets that she has sworn
not to tell, as I have sworn not to tell hers.”

Vikter, Lance, and Hunt all bowed to Michael, their fists to their hearts.  “We understand
that you have done us a great favor, Michael Davis,” Vikter said.  “We thank you for
it, no matter what the outcome may be.”

Michael smiled, and patted Honey’s uninjured hand gently.  “Give her a hug for me
when she wakes up, will you?”

“I shall,” Vikter promised.

Michael walked away, feeling that he had done the best he could, and hoping that it
was enough.  Then he put the matter from his mind and began asking Doc questions about
the upcoming procedure.

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