Zero Recall (25 page)

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Authors: Sara King

BOOK: Zero Recall
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Jer’ait,
however, was watching the knife.  Damn.  Joe hated Huouyt.

As casually as
he could, Joe stuffed the worn-smooth knife back into his pocket.  Then he
sighed.  “It’s hard to believe, but I think Maggie actually wanted me to
survive this.”

“Of course she
did,” Jer’ait said, his creepy gaze lifting back to Joe’s face.  There was no
mistake—his Second had seen his weakness.  And the knowledge had left him
smug. 
Damn
.

“Then you don’t
know Maggie,” Joe said, willing the Huouyt a thousand deaths by a thousand
Jreet.  “She’s hated me since basic.”

“Whether she hates
you or not is not the issue,” Jer’ait replied.  “Whichever PlanOps Overseer
puts together the team to take out the Vahlin will be rewarded with a
multi-species Corps Directorship.  Of course she wants you to survive.”

Joe’s jaw went
slack.  “No.”

“Why else would
she put a Jreet royal, a Va’ga assassin, a Grekkon, and an Ooreiki with tunnel
instinct on your team?”

“Don’t forget
me,” Flea said, from Joe’s shoulder.

Looking directly
at the Baga, the Huouyt said, “A Jreet royal, a Va’gan assassin, a Grekkon, and
an Ooreiki with tunnel instinct.”

On his shoulder,
the Baga bristled, but Joe quieted him by touching his carapace, its
once-iridescent beetle-green shine now painted pitch black.  To the Huouyt, he
said, “You have a very poor sense of humor, Huouyt.”

“I’m not
laughing,” Jer’ait said.  “In fact, I find it slightly irritating that while
Phoenix gets a Corps Directorship, we will only get
kasjas,
maybe a pat
on the back and a few rotations’ leave.  Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“Daviin, is he
telling the truth?” Joe whispered.

The Jreet
shrugged.  “I thought you knew.”

Joe hurled the
info-unit against the wall.  “Son of a
bitch!

“I don’t
understand…” the Ooreiki said, blinking at the equipment that had clattered to
the floor.  Like all Congressional gear, it was sturdy enough to take whatever
beatings all three thousand, two hundred and forty-four species of heavy-handed
Congie grounders could dish out.

Joe broke into a
string of invectives and shoved the Baga off of his shoulder.  He began pacing
the room, throwing and kicking anything he could reach.  Maps, equipment,
supplies…he was so enraged he saw only Maggie’s face.  Once again, she was
going to get the last laugh.  No matter how well he did, she would always outrank
him.  Always.

Joe didn’t
realize the Huouyt had come up behind him until he felt the sharp prick and the
Huouyt’s firm grasp on his neck.  His body stiffened.

Jer’ait twisted
Joe around to face him.  The room was empty except for the two of them, the door
locked.  The Huouyt looked him up and down with a flat look, and Joe couldn’t
tell if he were amused or bored.  “If your goal was to show your groundmates
you have the temper and mental capacities of a Dhasha turnling, Commander, I
think you succeeded.”

Joe closed his
eyes, ignoring the Huouyt’s multi-colored stare.  “There’s something you should
know, Huouyt.”

Jer’ait cocked
his head.  “What?”

“It was a pain
in the ass, but I immunized myself to
jasanbic-4
.”

As Jer’ait’s odd
violet eye flashed with surprise, Joe slammed his fist into the sensitive slit
in the Huouyt’s face.  As Jer’ait made a startled cry and crumpled, Joe pressed
his boot over the sheath that housed the Huouyt’s
zora
and gave it a few
warning lobes of pressure.

The Huouyt
reached toward his leg.  “Put your arms down,” Joe said, leaning on his leg a
bit more.  “I’m feeling a little off-balance.”

The Huouyt
dropped his arms and stared up at him, malice burning in his violet eye.

“That’s twice you’ve
poisoned me since we met,” Joe replied.  “I might be an uneducated grounder,
but I know Huouyt like to poison creatures they don’t respect.”  Joe leaned
down so he could peer into Jer’ait’s eyes.  “Are you saying you don’t respect
me, Jer’ait?”

“It was to calm
you down,” Jer’ait muttered.  “You were throwing a tantrum like a Dhasha turnling.”

“I’m Prime,” Joe replied. 
“I’m allowed to do that.  But, since you’re a low-life assassin and you’ve
never had to be a boot who’s had to work up through the ranks, you wouldn’t
know that.  Therefore, this time I’ll only give you a warning.  Next time it
happens, I’ll educate you on what a Human does to reciprocate disrespect.”

The Huouyt’s face
twisted.  “Very well.”

Joe lifted his boot from
the Huouyt’s face and stood back while he sat up. “Further, I think we have a
problem.”

Jer’ait gave him a dark
look as he got back to his feet.  “You realized you just threatened a Va’gan
assassin with your heel?”

Joe grinned and ignored
the statement.  “You haven’t told the rest of the team your real name.”

Jer’ait paused in
brushing himself off.  “That’s a problem?”

“I’m not calling you
Be’shaar in the tunnels, and I’m sure as hell not explaining who ‘Jer’ait’ is. 
You’re lucky I’ve played along this long.  Go fix it.”

With a
malevolent glare, the Va’gan started toward the door.

“Daviin,” Joe
said once the Huouyt had left, “You can come out now.”

 

 

#

 

Daviin waited
through the meeting in the corner, listening to every word.  He had moved to
step in the moment the Huouyt paralyzed his ward, but had been pleasantly
surprised when Joe had socked the conniving bastard in the face.

I like him,
Daviin thought, proud of his ward. 
He’s stupid as a
melaa,
but he’s
got a
tek.

“Daviin, you can
come out now.”

Daviin lowered
his energy level.

“And what did
you think about the way I handled the Huouyt?” Joe asked, clearly proud of
himself.

Daviin
hesitated.

“Tell me.” 

An order.  Damn
the Human!  “I thought it was wise of you to immunize yourself, and impossibly
stupid for you to tell him about it.  You could’ve used it later.”

Joe’s face
clouded.  “So I should’ve just let him keep poisoning me whenever he felt like
it?  No, I needed to make my point.”

“But you gave up the
advantage you earned by immunizing yourself.”

Joe snorted.  “He’s not
going to try to kill me, Daviin.”

“I think he is.”

“Well, he’s not,” Joe
retorted.  “Besides, I can take care of myself.  You saw how he couldn’t move
after I pinned him.”

Daviin winced, wondering
how much to tell the Human.  “The only reason he didn’t move was because he
knew I was hovering over him ready to shove my tek through his face if he
didn’t obey you.”

The Human deflated.  He
opened his mouth, then closed it again.  Frowning, he said, “Were you?”

“You can count on it.”

“Damn it, Jreet!  That
was
my
fight!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Human,”
Daviin laughed.  “You’re not a match for him.”

“We’re never gonna know
unless you keep your pointy snout out of it!”

“Oh, I know,” Daviin said,
sobering.  “He could have slapped a needle through the leg of your pants and
you would’ve been down for the count.”

“Not before I creamed his
brain.”

Daviin blinked at Joe. 
“His brain is located in his chest.  You were simply straddling his
zora.
 
An inconvenience, if that.”

His commander’s mood had
become increasingly foul.  “I’m not gonna get his respect if you keep babysitting
me, Jreet.”

“You’re not gonna get his
respect anyway.  He’s a Huouyt.  Let me kill him, Human.”

Joe frowned.  “No.”

“Please.  He’s
obviously—”


No.

Daviin wanted to argue,
but the wall com unit began to beep.

“No,” the Human repeated
as he went to the intercom.  Then, once he read the inscription across the
bottom of the call, he sighed and said, “Yeah?”

“Is that how you
address a superior?” a Human voice demanded.

“Must have
slipped my mind, Mag.  What do you want?”

“I heard you
kicked the Jreet off your team.”

Joe sighed and
dropped back onto the bed.  “What about it?”

“The Jreet goes down
the tunnels with you, Zero,” the Human—female, if Daviin wasn’t mistaken—on the
other end stated.  “That’s an order.”

“Sorry,” Joe
replied, shrugging his bony shoulders, “Seems he took off.  Wish I knew where
he was.  You know how I’d
love
to see you get that Corps Directorship
you’ve always wanted.  You’ve definitely earned it.”

“Cut the crap,
Joe.  Scanner says he’s in your chamber right now.”

“Really?  Funny,
I don’t see him.”

“His energy
level isn’t elevated.”

Joe glanced at
Daviin.  “Oh yeah.  There he is.”  He shook his head.  “Man.  How could I miss
that?”

“You’ll let him
back on the team or I’ll have your ass on a plate,” the female bit out.

“Well, since
you’ve tried to have my ass on a plate for the last fifty turns, Mag, this must
be very exciting for you.”  Joe cut the feed.  “That’s just what I need. 
Maggie to get a Corps Directorship.”

“The gods are
not always just,” Daviin agreed.

Joe glanced up at
him.  “No shit.”  He sighed and went to his pile of gear and began to strip. 
“So.  Your chip is working?”

Daviin flinched
at the question, but managed to avoid lying.  “I hadn’t tested it.”

“Well do so.” 
The Human took off his shirt and threw it aside, revealing a criss-crossed
array of raised white lines.  Daviin forgot himself and stared. 

The Human
continued, oblivious.  “We’ve got three hours ‘till takeoff and I want everyone
synched up so tight their balls—”  Joe paused at the look Daviin was giving
him.  “What?”

“Those scars,”
Daviin said when he found his breath.  “Only a Takki—”

Joe sat down on
the lower half of his biosuit and activated it.  Immediately, the two halves of
the suit slid into place, hiding his butchered skin from sight with a smooth
wave of glossy, rock-hard black that swallowed him from toe to head before
sliding apart at the mouth and eyes to allow him to breathe. 

When Joe did not
respond, merely continued preparing, Daviin could not help himself.  “You
didn’t get those in battle, did you?”

“No,” Joe said.

“An
interrogation?”

Joe laughed. 
“You think I’d be here, were that the case?”

“Dhasha, then?”

“No,” Joe said. 
He eyed Daviin for a long moment.  “It doesn’t matter.”

But it did, to
Daviin.  His innards were screaming at him that no warrior could endure those
kinds of scars.  They were too perfect.  Too...calculated.  “What was it?”

The Human sighed
and threw his pack over a suit-encased shoulder.  “Takki.”

Daviin
hesitated, his mind in turmoil.  “You were captured by a Dhasha’s Takki?”

“I
became
a Takki,” Joe muttered.  “For a while, anyway.”

Daviin reeled
away from his ward, horrified.  “You allowed yourself to be
enslaved?

“I wasn’t really
given a choice,” Joe growled, bristling.

“There’s
always
a choice!  There’s—”  Daviin checked himself, though he couldn’t stop staring
at his ward.  He felt unclean, like he’d suddenly been doused in sewage.  “You
served
a Dhasha?”  He found it hard to think.  The act was so completely dishonorable
it left him struggling with disgust.

Joe’s flat stare
told Daviin he was on dangerous ground.  “I did.”

“You should have
killed yourself,” Daviin roared, appalled.  “Any true warrior wouldn’t—”

“We can’t all be
Jreet,” the Human snapped at him, looking irritated.

“But no warrior
would allow—”

“That’s right,”
Joe retorted, “I stopped being a warrior the moment they stripped off my
biosuit and left me naked and bleeding amidst creatures that would happily eat
me alive.  My choice was to serve or die.”

The stark horror
of the Human’s statement made Daviin’s coils twist in shock.  Softly, a
horrified whisper, he said, “And you chose to serve.” 

The Human looked
him directly in the eyes, utterly cold.  “Are you regretting your oath already,
Daviin?”

My ward was a
slave.
  The cold reality of that hit like a spear through Daviin’s chest. 
He had bound himself to a slave.  There was no greater disgrace.  The
humiliation was enough to drag the beginnings of a war-cry from his chest.

Hearing the
rumbling, the Human softly said, “What is it, Jreet?  Your Voran pride can’t
stand the fact that you, pride and glory of the Voran princes, just bound
yourself to someone who used to pick a Dhasha’s scales to survive?”

Daviin looked
away, ashamed that the Human saw his thoughts so clearly.  “I...”  His pride
was screaming at him to kill himself, to kill Joe, to end the dishonor before
Vora discovered his shame.  Even a whisper of it would ruin his family name. 
The Welus would lunge at the chance to disgrace the Voran line by spreading the
tale of his shame.  What had he
done?

Daviin forced
himself to unclench his fists and return his tek to its sheath.  “I’m sure you
had no alternative.”

Joe gave a
bitter laugh.  “Sure I did.  But I wanted to live.”  Then, after giving him a
long look, the Human made for the door.  Though it was his duty to follow him,
Daviin let him go, horror and self-loathing closing on his soul.

His ward—his
Commander—had been a
slave.

 

 

#

 

Daviin was the first to
the shuttle.  Instead of following Joe to make last-tic arrangements with
Supply, Daviin had gone directly to the transport.  Daviin knew he should have
stayed with him.  His duty as his Sentinel required it.

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