Authors: Pauline Baird Jones
Feldstar, he recalled, could support life, though it would not be a great life. The climate was either hot or cold, with little moderation to ease the pain. There was edible plant and animal life and good cover. They’d launched several Ojemba attacks from there, though he’d learned to choose the hot weather cycle. And even then, they’d had to be careful of severe weather, blowing up without warning. Thanks to the Garradian transport system, the weather was not an issue any longer, though he would not like to attempt transport during one of the bigger storms.
It troubled him that the two energy signatures were the only sign the unknown combatants were using space-capable transport. The nature of the attacks indicated the group
was
highly space capable and appeared to have some ability to track even cloaked ships. Hilber’s information supported this supposition. He’d earned his money and a bonus. Hopefully he’d think twice before trying to kill him the next time Hel needed something from him. Knowing Hilber, it was a faint hope. He needed to adjust his shields, but he would lay down a false trail first, just in case someone was able to track his movements. He tried to shift his cloak settings each time he traveled like this. He’d never felt tracked, but this time he had an itch between his shoulder blades. He’d drop into a scan hole he’d purposely left in place and make the change before heading in the direction of Feldstar.
He was certain that Delilah would find a way to send another signal. He worried he would arrive, too late if the group decided to shift location. He could be wrong, of course, but this didn’t feel wrong. All he could do was follow his instincts.
* * * * *
Three days
. She’d been in camp for three endless days and three longer-than-endless nights. And in those three days she’d managed to change too much, Vidor thought grimly. He’d believed that claiming her would solve the problems she’d created. Claiming her removed Eamon and Cadir as weapons for her use. She’d never intended choosing one of them anyway. They were, naturally, frustrated. They couldn’t secure wives until the tractor beam was repaired, and they were almost out of time. He still didn’t understand how the woman had managed to fire on them. Or how she’d managed to stay conscious during her retrieval. He had many questions and few answers to show for three days of talking that felt more like a battle than a conversation.
He’d told her she must choose by this evening, but instead of considering her options, she had chosen to use the time to disrupt the even tenor of the camp. She’d drifted around, chatting with the women. It seemed harmless. Until the women had revolted against the food. It seemed a minor thing. The food was better. Everyone was more cheerful. The women now talked and laughed as they cooked. This change was not so terrible, though Bana seemed to have fallen into disfavor. Vidor could see a clear shift in the power balance between the women and the men.
If she’d stopped there—but she seemed unable to be content.
Did she think the men wanted to observe the women’s baths? Of course the women deserved privacy, but they were vulnerable while bathing. The men did not need protection during their baths. It had nothing to do with the cold or their male pride. He’d made one concession for her—she could bathe alone. He would stand guard alone. Had she been grateful? Not visibly.
“If you want to get me out of my clothes, you’re going to have to do better than this,” she’d informed him. And before he could stop her, she’d turned and strode into the water fully clothed.
His men had accepted the changes without a fight. He’d wondered why, until he learned that their participation in the marriage bed depended on it. Vidor, contemplating his own empty bed, wasn’t surprised that they’d given in. And he had no doubts who had educated the girls to this sexual reality. Or turned them against Bana.
Bana appeared to find her fall from grace more amusing than annoying. “You wanted them to learn. They are learning.”
“Talk to her.”
They both knew who he wanted her to talk to.
“I can talk, but will she listen?”
“I won’t give her up.”
“You can’t make her tell you her name or name you, Vidor.”
“Then I will find another way.”
“She will fight you.”
“And she will lose.” Morticia didn’t know it, but she’d already lost. He’d scanned for her so-called transmission device. It had been a bluff, and it hadn’t taken him long to figure out her purpose. She’d hoped the scan would reveal their position. It wouldn’t. He knew how to use planets to block scans. His ship was well cloaked. He’d operated in this galaxy for longer than she knew without being detected. Even the vaunted Garradian scanners had failed to penetrate their cloak.
“She will never adjust to our world, to our ways. If you bring her back, she will undo all we have accomplished, all we hope to accomplish. She is wrong for us.”
The words increased the pain in his heart.
“She’ll do what she must.” She was female. Females adjusted. It was their way.
“She won’t, Vidor. Think with your brain. Don’t do this.”
He hesitated, something in her tone, pierced his thoughts. Was it fear? What could she fear from this woman? Their people feared one woman and soon he would take care of her, too. Bana needed to trust him.
“I do what I must, old friend. Trust me in this.”
She sighed. “It’s not you I do not trust. She worries me.”
“Let me worry about her and the other. I will deal with them both.”
Tonight he would give her a choice, but not the one she expected. She didn’t fear death, so that was off the table.
As if she sensed his thoughts were on her, Morticia met his gaze. She deflected his effort to pierce her thoughts. She revealed only what she wanted to reveal. He got that now. He’d learned the lesson. It was her turn to learn that everything was going to change.
And then a cry broke the happier sounds of the encampment. While he and his men reached for weapons, Morticia turned toward Riven’s wife. The girl was bent, her hand at her back, her face showing distress. Morticia crouched next to her, her hand on the girl’s distended stomach.
“Has your back been hurting a lot today?”
The girl nodded, her eyes wide, her fear obvious. Vidor and Riven both stepped back, and he saw a flash of annoyance in Morticia’s eyes.
“Did you have a plan for when the babies start coming?”
“Bana.” Vidor nodded at her to help the girl.
“That’s your plan?”
“I don’t want her! I want my mother!”
Morticia’s gaze chilled. He might as well have been dipped in the lake again.
“You’re all complete and utter bastards. Can’t you see how frightened she is?”
Vidor made himself step toward the grouping. “Bana will care for her. She will be fine.”
The girl clung to Morticia’s hand, sobbing in panic. Vidor could tell Morticia felt torn about something. What did she know? What did she seek to hide from him?
“Bastard,” she said again. She turned to the girl. “Let’s get you to bed, sweetie.” She looked at Riven. “You will help your wife have this baby or I will personally see to it you never have another child. And I think we both know I can do it.”
Riven looked as white-faced as his wife, but he followed them into the tent.
The night that followed was long, noisy and not what Vidor planned. At the end of it, Riven had a small daughter with a crumpled red face, and Vidor had something new to worry about.
Outside the birthing tent, Vidor looked at Bana. “Well?”
“She is a doctor.” Bana did not sound surprised.
Vidor kept his scowl. “You suspected this.”
She avoided his look. “I wondered.” Finally she looked at him. “The Doctor came from this galaxy. We both knew this.”
She’d asked them to return her to this place. They should have listened, should have tried to help her, but Sellmin had wanted her the moment he saw her. In the years since, Vidor had judged him, condemned him for allowing lust to cloud his judgment. How ironic that he’d traveled so far, for so long, only to find himself in the same place, fighting the same weakness.
“If she is the one, you can’t take her home.”
“It would be different this time.” But they both knew it would not.
“You have to think of your people, not what you want.”
He didn’t want to kill her. He couldn’t release her. The fate of his people depended on him dealing with her. History could not be allowed to repeat itself.
“She might not be the one.”
Bana didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. He didn’t believe it either.
* * * * *
When Giddioni’s ship dropped off tracking, the General had a moment of panic.
Sometimes the impossible might be impossible
.
And with the Leader in the mix, the odds against possible turned astronomical.
“Do you think he knew we were tracking him?” And how was that possible? The Gadi were flooding the galaxy with scan signatures. How could he pick theirs out of that mess? But he knew the answer to the question before Smith weighed in. Giddioni was a twitchy bastard.
“Which zone was he headed for before he dropped out of sight?”
“Zone Two.”
Halliwell sighed. That might be where he was going or it might not be. No way to know now. He’d have to deploy cloaked ships close to all three zones.
“Try to reacquire the target,” Halliwell ordered. He cut the connection and rubbed his face.
She could be dead.
Sometimes the impossible might be impossible.
If she’d been taken because she was female, well, worse things than death could be happening to her. Three damn days. A lot could happen in three days. She was older than the other missing women. That might matter. Whoever was doing this had managed to do it on the QT for almost a year. There might be other missing women that had gone unreported. No one was keeping close track of the Dusan women, though he felt sorry for anyone who went hunting there. Those were some scary women.
He got up and paced over to the wide view port that made his ready room appear larger than it was. Kikk orbited off to his right and a big bunch of empty space was everywhere else. When he looked out on this, he felt small. He didn’t like feeling small. He didn’t like thinking of any of his people lost out there somewhere.
“Come on, Doc, give me a crumb, give me something to work with.” What part of space was she looking at? Could she still look and feel? He remembered that moment when she’d reminded him of the Key, when he’d been aware she was a young woman and not just the Chameleon. Briggs was worried about her, and he never worried without cause. Risk was part of being in the military. There were acceptable losses, like losing people in battle. The rest were unacceptable, and he fought them with a passion.
A discreet buzz broke into his grim thoughts. It was a message from the Leader. Halliwell activated it. Voice only. Not a surprise, since he’d suspected the Leader had gone back to his Ojemba roots with this move.
Halliwell had first heard of the elusive and mysterious leader of the Ojemba from Kiernan Fyn, the alien who’d helped Sara Donovan when she crashed on Kikk. Connecting Kalian to Giddioni took too much time and a near disaster. Halliwell tried not to think of Giddioni as Kalian because it made him want to hit the Leader, and they were supposed to be allies. Giddioni was challenging enough without his other identity in the mix. If Giddioni had dusted off Kalian, it couldn’t be good for anyone but Giddioni.
The report was brief, no surprises until the man made a request.
“There are many nomadic settlements and small enclaves where those who wish to avoid others reside. It will take many months to search them, and even then, there is no surety of finding the Doctor if someone wishes to conceal her presence.”
A pause that told the General this was the part he wasn’t going to like.
“I began to wonder if your scientists had a way to differentiate your people from ours. A way to do this from space, perhaps?”
Months.
Halliwell rubbed his face yet again. If he kept this up, he’d be rubbing skin off soon. They didn’t have months. And Giddioni knew it. Now that he was looking, Halliwell could see the signs of a restive Gadi people. Scientists dirt side on Kikk would appease them for a short time. Once the Gadi saw what was there they’d want it even more.
The Major would have him killed if he found out he’d shared information about the Doc’s personal locater with anyone. The death would be painful and prolonged if he found out it was Giddioni. He wanted to kill himself for considering it. But, this was also an opportunity. The geeks would be able to track the data burst. Giddioni would route it through his flagship, but the geeks could track it from there to his current position. Until the Leader twitched again, they’d know where he was.
“This information can only go to people you trust absolutely. If this fell into the wrong hands…” He didn’t have to spell out which wrong hands to Giddioni. He knew as well as Halliwell what his enemies would do with the information
“You have my word, General.” The Leader’s neutral tone wasn’t that reassuring.
“How do you know one of them won’t double-cross you?” He’d trained these people and they both knew double-crossing was a personal favorite.
“No one double-crosses me, General.”
If that was meant to be reassuring, it wasn’t. Only reason they didn’t was because he beat them to it.
“I’ll arrange a data burst. Just be careful with it.”
“You have my word,” he repeated.
Yeah, that made him feel better. What did make him feel better was the knowledge that three cloaked squadrons were positioned to monitor the three zones identified by the geeks. He also had a decoy squadron ready to go out, without cloaks, if anything twitched out there.
The geeks had been tense when the ships moved out, but there was no sign that anyone had seen the deployment. On the good news front, it wasn’t enough.
* * * * *
When Doc left the shell-shocked parents she had two desires: to sleep and to take someone down. Riven had
seemed
guileless when he asked if they could name their little girl after Doc, but Doc wasn’t fooled. Nor was she impressed. Actually, she was kind of insulted. She’d have expected Conan to know her better by now. He’d had more clues than most. She left before they could try again. Her first stop was the pit toilet for a pee and a wash. While a relief, neither soothed her lacerated feelings. She remained pissed. She stalked up to Conan.