The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga (9 page)

Jackson quickly made the introductions, but no one was interested in formalities at
the moment.  “Jareth, it might be best if I speak to you alone,” Honey said.

“I would agree, under most circumstances,” he replied with a smile.  “But as these
people are all Clan Jasani, we’d have to go very far away indeed before we could be
sure they wouldn’t hear.”

Honey bit her lip, glanced at Hope worriedly, then at Jackson, Clark and Rob.  She
had no choice, though she was concerned about Hope’s reaction to what she had to say. 

“I don’t want anyone to panic here,” she said, “but I think Hope ingested something
she should not have.”  She could not be more vague, and she would not be more specific. 

Jareth tilted his head as he studied Honey carefully.  “Dr. Davis, would you mind
holding my hands for a moment?  I would like to sense what you felt.”

“Of course,” Honey said as she held her hands out toward the Healer, who took them
in his own and held them lightly.  Honey wasn’t sure what she should do, so she went
over her feelings from the time Hope had arrived.  When she was finished, Jareth nodded
and released her hands. 

“I see what you mean,” he said.  “If I may say so, Dr. Davis, you have a truly beautiful
gift.”

“Thank you,” Honey said, her cheeks heating.  She was used to hiding her gift, not
receiving praise for it.  “The problem is that while I’m able to psychically examine
the babies, I can’t do the same for Hope.  I was hoping you could.”

“Yes, of course,” Jareth said.  He turned toward Hope and asked her to lie back down
on the sofa, then he held his hands above her body and focused for several moments. 
When he was done he lowered his hands and turned to Honey.

“You are most correct, Dr. Davis,” he said.  “There is something that should not be
there.  It is very subtle, too faint for me to identify.  If not for you, I might
never have found it myself.”

“What are you saying?” Jackson demanded.  “What’s wrong?”

“We are not yet certain, Jackson Bearen,” Jareth said solemnly.  “You must be calm.”

Jackson, Clark, and Rob all nodded, but they held themselves stiffly, fists clenched,
muscles standing out on their necks as they braced themselves.  “There appears to
be the faintest traces of a foreign substance in Arima Hope’s blood stream.  Whatever
it is, it affected the babies.”

“Is there no way to find out what it is?” Hope asked.  “How will I know what to avoid?”

“We should ask Doc to perform a blood analysis,” Jareth suggested. 

“Be right back,” Rob said before disappearing.  Before Honey had a chance to do much
more than ask where he’d gone, he was back again.

“Doc is at the infirmary and can see you right now,” he said.

Hope sat up and put her shoes on.  “
Efharistos
, Honey,” she said.  “Without you, we wouldn’t know anything was wrong.”

“There might not be anything really wrong,” Honey said.  “It might just be a fluke.”

“Dr. Davis,” Jackson said, “are you sure that the babies are all right?”

“Please, call me Honey,” she said.  “And no, there is no lasting harm done to your
daughters that I can find, and I’ve checked them very carefully.  So long as Hope
does not continue to ingest whatever caused their distress, I think they’ll be fine.”

“The moment Doc identifies the substance, we will find the source,” Jackson said. 
He bent down and lifted Hope in his arms, the expression of love and worry on his
face making Honey’s eyes sting.  What would it be like to have someone look at me
like that? she wondered.  Jackson turned slightly and they both disappeared.  All
of this flashing in and out was beginning to make Honey’s head ache.

Clark and Rob thanked Honey once more, then Jareth and Berta, before Clark took Jareth
back to where he’d found him, and Rob left to find Harlan. 

“You did good here today,” Berta said to Honey when they were alone.

“Thank you, Aunt Berta,” Honey said tiredly.  Using both of her psychic talents in
the space of an hour had taken a toll on her, but she didn’t mind.  It had been worth
it.

“Come on, Honey,” Berta said.  “Let’s find one of my guys to speed-travel you back
to your guesthouse so you can take a nap.  Nica can stay here.  There’s more than
enough of us to keep her busy for a few hours.”

Honey hesitated, then nodded in agreement.  If she’d been on Terien she’d never leave
Nica alone with a group of women whether she knew them or not.  But this was not Terien,
and the people here did not think like the Teriens.  After spending time with the
women in Arima House, she knew that Nica would be safe here in spite of her secret
abilities.

“Thanks, Aunt Berta,” she said, yawning suddenly.  “I could use a nap.”

Berta laughed. “I see that,” she said.  “Come on.”

***

Michael and the Vulpirans spent the remainder of the morning and a good portion of
the afternoon going over all of the tests that had been run on the Xanti since its
capture.  Michael was impressed with the Research Center.  He found it difficult to
believe that it had been built only a few weeks earlier as an addition to the detention
center.  It was better equipped than any lab he’d ever seen, and he was excited at
the prospect of working there during his stay.

By the time they finished, Michael had a good understanding of the Xanti’s physiology. 
Where its major organs were located, what it ate, the type of poison in its stinger. 
He’d also examined the Xanti’s bio-suit, which looked exactly like Honey’s Aunt Berta
except that its head was crushed. 

It was late in the afternoon before he was satisfied that he had enough information
to approach the Xanti.  For the moment, anyway.  He had a clear idea of what to look
for when he went face to face with it, and he was excited about using his psychic
talent openly for the first time.

Vikter led the way back through the Research Center and into the connecting detention
wing to the thick, armored door that served as the only entry, or exit, from the Xanti’s
cell.  The cell was guarded by a Lobo male-set who bowed politely to the Vulpirans
and Michael before unlocking and opening the door. 

Vikter entered first, checking to be certain that the barrier was in place, and that
there were no gaps or apertures in the thick, clear wall.  Satisfied, he gestured
for Michael, Lance and Hunt to enter.  The Lobos closed the door behind them and remained
outside.

Michael approached the wall, his eyes fixed on the Xanti still sitting in the corner
of its cell.  As soon as the door closed, it rose slowly, it’s long, spindly legs
unfolding until it stood at its full height of about two and a half feet.  It moved
toward the table where the translator sat, appearing neither hurried nor nervous. 
After turning the translator on, it chittered for a moment, then pressed a button. 
The translation played through speakers in the ceiling.

“Is this dinner?” it asked.

One corner of Michael’s mouth turned up at the corner, his soft brown eyes going cold
and hard.  He stared for a long moment at the Xanti before closing his eyes and reaching
out with his senses toward it.  As expected, his first mental touch was vastly disturbing,
requiring all of his will to maintain the connection without jerking back.  He breathed
deeply, relaxing his mind while maintaining contact with the vile creature.

Vikter watched Michael as he closed his eyes and went into a trance, as he’d warned
would happen.  He could not imagine what it would be like to touch the mind of a being
such as the Xanti, and could not help but respect the man for doing it.  He shifted
his gaze to the black, shiny segmented body of the Xanti, the hair on the back of
his neck standing up when he saw the Xanti drop the translator and turn to face Michael. 
It clearly knew that its mind was being invaded, and from the way its red eyes were
fixed on Michael, it knew the source of the invasion. 

It put all of its ten legs on the floor, then began to rise up slowly until its legs
were nearly straight, then lower itself just as slowly until its belly nearly touched
the floor.  It shifted forward as it rose up again, then back down before shifting
a few inches forward once more, getting closer to the barrier each time.  The movements
were almost hypnotizing, its forward motion nearly indiscernible, but the Vulpirans
were not fooled. 

Lance and Hunt moved so that they stood between the barrier and Michael without standing
directly in front of him.  Vikter examined the barrier again, in case he’d missed
something, but he could see no way for the Xanti to get to Michael.  If it did breach
the wall, he was certain that Lance and Hunt would be able to protect Michael while
he shifted into his vulpin alter-form.  Even so, he did not like the way the Xanti
was moving, or the way its red eyes remained fixed unblinkingly on Michael. 

The tension in the room begin to rise as the Xanti reached the wall, then raised two
of its foremost legs and began tapping against it.  Michael had not moved a fraction
since closing his eyes, other than to breathe, and he did not seem to notice the tapping
which began slowly, then steadily increased in both tempo and volume.  The Xanti raised
a third leg to join in the tapping, then a fourth.  Just as Vikter reached the end
of his tether and was ready to shift, Michael opened his eyes.  The Xanti instantly
stopped its infernal tapping, and the two of them stared at each other for a long
moment. 

Then the Xanti turned around and walked back to its corner where it settled itself
once more the way it had been when they entered.  Only when all of its legs were tucked
up under it again did Michael turn to look at Vikter.  He nodded, then turned his
back on the Xanti and went through the door as soon as Hunt opened it for him, stepping
out into the corridor.  He waited while Vikter thanked the Lobos, then turned around
and began walking back the way they had come.  He man
a
ged several steps before he began to collapse.  Lance leapt forward, catching Michael
just before his head would have hit the floor.

***

Honey opened her eyes, wondering what had awakened her.  She lay motionless on the
bed, waiting.  A few moments later the doorbell rang.  She got out of bed and hurried
out of the bedroom, up the hall, across the sitting room and into the big, circular
foyer, her mind racing.  Had something happened to Nica?  Or Michael? 

She pulled the door open, surprised to see Michael standing there, leaning against
the white haired Vulpiran, the other two standing right behind them. 
The middle one,
she thought. 
Lance.

“Michael?” she asked, “What happened?”

“I’m fine, Honey,” Michael said, though his face was so pale he was nearly as white
as the Alverian Healer, Jareth.

“Come in, please,” Honey said, realizing she was blocking the doorway.  She stepped
back, opening the door all of the way so that Lance could enter with Michael.  He
helped him into the living room and onto the sofa, Hunt assisting, while Vikter closed
the door.

Honey hurried after Michael, trying to ignore the sudden burst of feelings she was
getting from the Vulpirans.  She knelt down on the floor in front of where Michael
sat and reached for his wrist. 

“Mrs. Davis,” Vikter began, but Honey shook her head firmly, and he fell silent. 
After a few moments she released Michael’s wrist and stood up. 

“I’ll be right back,” she said, hurrying from the room.  She returned quickly, carrying
a black medical bag.  She set it on the floor, opened it, and removed several instruments
which she then proceeded to use on Michael.  When she was finished she sat back with
a frown on her face.

“Everything seems normal, except that your pulse is a little slow, and your blood
pressure a bit lower than it should be,” she said.  “What happened?”

“I just used my special talent a bit longer than I should have.”

Honey’s eyes widened in surprise.  She glanced up at Vikter, Lance, and Hunt, then
back to Michael again. 

“Don’t worry,” Michael said, patting her hand gently.  “They are to be trusted.” 
Honey glanced at the Vulpirans again, not even trying to hide her doubt.  It was only
because she’d experienced open acceptance of her own psychic powers that day at Arima
House that she was able to accept Michael’s revelation as calmly as she did.  Still,
she thought, it was one thing for her to reveal her talents to a group of women. 
It was another thing entirely for Michael to reveal his to three of the top scientists
on Jasan.  If they said anything, even by accident, to the Teriens, everything they’d
worked and sacrificed for would be destroyed.

“Do not concern yourself, Mrs. Davis,” Vikter said.  “Or is it Doctor Davis?”

“Doctor,” Honey confirmed.  “And I am concerned.  You have information that could
ruin Michael.”

“Are you saying that you do not trust us?” Hunt asked, his question just short of
a demand.

“I don’t know you,” Honey replied, standing up to face them.  “Nor do I like having
our fate in the hands of strangers.”