Authors: Lisanne Norman
* * *
Jakule hadn't turned up for his shift. He'd contacted his unit, reporting in sick so no one would be looking for him. Instead he'd spent the ensuing hours scrounging drinks in the rec bar with his off-duty cronies. His backbone stiffened by the alcohol, he'd moved on, padding around the smaller bars and areas where he knew Chyad was frequently to be found. His luck was out. Not even a faint scent of him.
His feet led him unerringly to his favorite smoke haunt, a small bar on the outer limit of the concourse. It was squeezed between the section of the main bar that was mainly used by ground troops like himself, and the elevator up to the main mess.
The smoke bar was legal, just, as long as no one from security came in when the "special" cones were being used. It was a dingy, dark dive of a place, the walls stained brown by the constant smoke. Tables were scattered randomly around, the center of each holding the pottery dish in which the smokers burned their cones.
There was a group of people there that he knew. He loped over, hoping they would let him join their table, then he noticed Kheszi. Damn! He'd hoped to avoid him. It meant he would have less money to spend on smoke.
"What you doing here, Jakule?" asked the large male with the notched ear as Jakule hovered a few feet from the table. "You got that money you owe me yet? You'll get no more smoke if you haven't."
"I've got it, Kheszi," he said, delving into his pocket and bringing out a handful of coins. "See, it's all here." He placed it on the table in front of him.
"Count it, Tayn," said the large one, ignoring the money and continuing to look at Jakule.
"All there," was the pronouncement.
"Good. I like debts paid promptly. It means I don't have to get nasty, and you know I hate that," he said with a flick of the scarred ear.
"Who's got a light pocket tonight, Jakule?" laughed one of the others. "One day your hand'll come out minus your fingers!"
There was general ribald laughter as Jakule's ears flattened in embarrassment. His tail flicked spasmodically as if beyond his control.
"You want something more, Jakule?" asked Kheszi.
"I want some smoke, Kheszi," said Jakule, trying to gather his shredded self-control and get his ears upright again.
"Can you pay for it?"
Jakule nodded.
Kheszi raked him with his eyes. "Can you cope with smoke? You look like you already spent too much time in the bars."
Again the chorus of laughter as Jakule's tail flicked in resentment.
"I can cope," he muttered. "I'm not that far gone."
"Money where I can see it."
Jakule shoved his hand into another pocket and put the coins in front of Kheszi.
Kheszi nodded to Tayn. A cone flew through the air toward Jakule. He just managed to catch it.
"You're slipping, lad," said Kheszi. "See you are up to coping. I don't want to have to disturb one of my males to throw you out."
Jakule backed off and headed for a table near the door. His hands were sweating and his tongue felt swollen in his mouth. Bloody Kheszi! Treated him like dirt. There was no need for it. He was a good customer, always paid his money. Well, maybe once or twice it had taken longer than usual to settle with Kheszi, but he wasn't the only one!
Shaking, he sat down and placed the cone in the burner. He took one of the stick ignitors from the pile and dragged it along the side of the pottery dish, lighting the cone with the resulting flame. The cone flared yellow for a few seconds till he blew it out, then settled down to burn with a red glow. Jakule pulled the dish closer, inhaling the aromatic smoke, feeling his mood lift immediately. He plotted his revenge on all the Chyads and Kheszis of his world, knowing they would be unable to stand up to his lightning skill and tactics in a Challenge.
His hand strayed to his inside pocket, lovingly feeling the lines of the gun. With this he didn't even need to Challenge them. One shot and they would be gone.
* * *
Though she had been on leave for the last five days, Mito had chosen to go into the linguistics lab for a couple of halfshifts to continue her work on the Valtegan computer data. Once more she'd been working with the Terran female Jo, finding in her a kindred spirit. Now she was taking the last two days off before starting her regular shifts again.
She was browsing round the one luxury store on the
Khalossa
when Maikoe approached her.
"Mito, I was hoping I'd run into you," the other female said. "I'm sorry you got upset yesterday. You have to excuse Chyad. He's from Khyaal and finding out what happened to Guynor distressed him. There are very few of us left from the colony worlds. To lose yet another was a hard blow to all of us."
Mito grunted, continuing to pick up various hair ornaments and examine them.
"Look, I'd like to talk to you," said Maikoe, taking her by the arm. "Can we go for a c'shar somewhere?"
Shaking the other female's hand free, Mito made her selection and delving into a pocket in her tabard, passed her card over to the storekeeper. "When I'm finished," she said, waiting for her beaded ribbons to be packaged and her card returned. The transaction complete, she turned round and began walking out of the store.
"Come on, Mito. Be reasonable," said Maikoe, catching hold of her again. "The cafe serves fresh c'shar. My treat."
Mito let herself be gently pulled toward the cafe. Once through the door, Maikoe led her to one of the tables that boasted soft easy chairs.
"Two c'shars," she said to the waiter as he came over to them.
"What do you want?" asked Mito, settling herself carefully so as not to crush the overtunic she wore.
"Just to explain about yesterday," said Maikoe.
"There's nothing to explain," said Mito. "I've never heard such lunatic suggestions in my life. The Terrans on Keiss have suffered a great deal at the hands of the Valtegans."
"The ones you met. What about the home world? You don't know what goes on there, do you? What if the Valtegans had a treaty with them, and Keiss was used to send the human dissidents to. Not an R & R planet, but a prison planet instead?"
Mito sat for a moment before answering. "It's possible," she admitted, "but unlikely."
"Say it is true, what then? The Valtegans would have a back door to Alliance space and could wipe us out before we knew we'd been attacked, just like Khyaal and Szurtha."
"In which case, a treaty with Keiss is to our advantage, isn't it? It's the one with Earth that could cause us harm."
"Exactly."
"We know nothing about their home world," she said slowly. "How can we make decisions on major issues like treaties if we haven't even visited them?"
"You're beginning to understand what worries us," said Maikoe.
Mito could see the female visibly relaxing now in her seat. She regarded her calmly. "What is it you want me to do?"
"We need information. Rumor has it the
Rhyaki
will be sent to Earth. We need our own communication link with them so we can get information that the authorities would rather we didn't have."
Mito laughed. "You're not asking a lot, are you?"
"We have a contact on the
Rhyaki.
He'll get hold of a small transmitter to send coded signals to us. We need you to intercept them before the bridge picks them up. We can arrange to have them sent when you're on bridge duty."
"I presume you also want me to send replies."
"Yes, but not from the bridge. You're still working mainly in the lab, aren't you? No active duty?"
"None. My work on the Valtegan programs is vital. We have a deep space transmission which we've partially deciphered that includes mention of the navigation crystal from the
Sirroki.
The Commander wants it translated as a matter of urgency so we know whether or not the Valtegans managed to access our data."
"I didn't realize you'd lost it," said Maikoe quietly. "That's worrying news."
"Isn't it just," said Mito with only a trace of sarcasm. "I'll be going planetside in a few weeks to study the remains of the Valtegan communication equipment. They've got a specialist team on it already. If they find anything useful to me, then I'll be down there for a long time."
Their drinks arrived, and Mito watched Maikoe sit in silence for a few minutes digesting her news.
"You'll be working with the Terrans on Keiss, won't you?"
"I'm working with them already."
"Would you find out what you can about their home world? See if they knew anything about the Valtegans prior to their arrival here."
"Maikoe, what the Keissian Terrans know about their home world is already ancient history," said Mito, enjoying being able to put down this oh-so-confident female, even if she wasn't aware it was being done.
"What do you mean?"
"The Terrans traveled here in cryogenic suspension because they have no jump drive. It took them the Gods know how many years to get here. Add on the time they've been here, and the fact they don't have deep space transmitters and you'll realize what they know could be anything up to fifty years out of date! The Valtegans could have taken over their world for all they know!"
"Have they?" asked Maikoe sharply.
Mito hesitated. "Not to our knowledge. It's confidential information at present, but we're already deep into negotiations with Earth as well as Keiss. If the Valtegans are there, they're letting the Terrans run all their own communications with us, which is unlikely."
"I have to agree with you on that," said Maikoe thoughtfully. "Still, I'd like to meet some of these Terrans and talk to them myself."
Mito shook her head. "No chance. They're only allowed to see people with a special permit. You must have noticed a lack of them in public since the brawl in the bar."
"I did wonder where they were," admitted Maikoe. "How do you get a security clearance then?"
"You don't," she said bluntly. "They're only here for a couple more days, then they return to Keiss. I can get in to see them, though. So can the others they work with and some of the senior officers."
"Why such tight security? We've never bothered with it before when we've had visiting aliens."
"Don't ask me," Mito shrugged. "Probably because they disgraced themselves by starting a fight."
"What do you think of one of our people having a telepathic link and a relationship with an alien?"
Mito took a sip of her drink. "Why not? Some of the Terrans are all right, just like some of us are all right and some are real bastards. I've got my eye on one of them myself."
"You're kidding!" exclaimed Maikoe, shocked out of her role as mediator for Chyad.
"No, I'm not. You haven't met them yet. Wait till you do."
"But one of them was responsible for Guynor's death."
"No, Guynor was responsible for his own execution," said Mito, banging her mug down on the table. "Just remember that. He chose to try and Challenge a Terran female, a civilian without our height, our claws, or our fur to protect her! He disobeyed Garras' order to leave her alone and when Vanna stopped him, he turned on Kusac, a telepath!"
Her eyes glittered at the other female. "He broke every rule in the book. They had no option but to execute him. I know, I was there. He was a fool, Maikoe, not a martyr, and I shall say so to anyone who'll listen."
Maikoe pulled back warily. "I didn't realize you felt so strongly about it," she said.
"I do. I've got a career in the Forces and I don't intend to jeopardize it on crackpot schemes. I'll talk to the Terrans for you, I will probably help you encode and decode your messages, I may even send and receive them, but only if I am convinced it's to gather more information about the Earth Terrans and if it doesn't put my career on the line."
"Thanks," said Maikoe, still unsure of Mito's temper. "I'll get in touch with you in a day or two."
"You do that. You can leave a message for me at the linguistics lab," said Mito, getting up.
"I think a personal one would be safer," said Maikoe, her voice tailing to nothing as Mito swept out into the concourse.
* * *
They were meeting Vanna and Garras on the concourse for second meal. Carrie was waiting for Kusac to finish dressing. He was digging in drawers for a belt to go round the tunic he was wearing. Various items were being flung on the bed as he muttered darkly about Personnel moving his belongings without his permission, and that they might at least have had the courtesy to keep them in the same order.
A bronze torc flew through the air to land with a clunk on the floor. Dodging a flying brush, Carrie bent to pick it up.
"Ah, found it!" he said, emerging from the chaos he had created.
"This is nice, what is it?" she asked, turning the torc over in her hands and examining the relief pattern on it.
Kusac fastened his belt as he came over to her. "The torc? It was a coming of age present from my parents."
"What's the design?" she asked, passing it back to him.
"A double sunburst. The sign for our family." He looked at it for a moment then moved to put it away.
"Why not wear it? I've seen other males wearing them, and females." She felt his reluctance.
"It'll be recognized," he said, tail tip gently flicking from side to side. "It's not something I want people to know."
"They know already, so why not wear it?"
Twisting it open, he put it on, turning it so the wider middle section with the sunburst was at the front. He shivered slightly at the bite of the cold metal.
Carrie surveyed him critically. "It looks good," she said, getting up from the chair. "Now let's go before Vanna and Garras decide we aren't coming."
"We should get some clothes for you today," said Kusac as they left their rooms and headed down the corridor. "Sholan clothes suit you and I want to see you in something nice of your own."
"I'm not going to object," she said. "I've never bought clothes before. They were distributed from a central store at Seaport. One size fits all, one style suits all," she grinned, taking him by the hand as they stood waiting for the elevator.
"We'll see if we can persuade Vanna and Garras into going shopping first, then," said Kusac as the doors opened.
The elevator was almost empty, only two males and a female were in it. As they went down to the fourteenth level, Carrie was acutely aware of their curious looks. She turned round to smile at them, surprising them into embarrassed grins.
Stop teasing them,
Kusac sent, his tone full of laughter.
They aren't used to Terran grins.
I didn't show all my teeth,
she replied as the doors opened on their level.