Muted cries, from somewhere below them, woke Karic. He cautiously climbed out of the cave and saw it was midsol by the height of the sun in the sky. He stealthily crept toward the strange sounds emanating from beyond a high outcropping of rock that overlooked the mountainside. When he reached the overlook, Karic gasped in outrage.
There, far below on a large plateau, a crowd of people huddled near the edge of a cliff. The great distance separating them made it impossible for Karic to make out any faces. Behind the people, on safer ground, were Bellatorian guards armed with blasters. But the sight of Necator, surrounded by his following of scientists and what appeared to be a greatly perfected version of the Guide, was the most chilling sight of all.
It was an experiment, Karic realized with a rising sense of presentiment, being carried out far from chance of discovery. And somehow, for some cold-blooded purpose that would surely further the Lord Commander's ambition to rule the Imperium, the hapless people on the edge of the cliff were now in the greatest danger of their lives.
Necator turned to the scientist operating the Guide. "Begin the experiment."
The scientist nodded, then signaled the other Bellatorians who quickly donned their protective hearing devices. Seeing that, the crowd of frightened prisoners made a frantic surge forward. When the guards aimed their blasters, the people immediately backed away.
The little white-garbed man turned back to the Guide, punched in a command and adjusted a few dials. A low hum filled the air, rising in tone to a shrill, irritating whine.
As Karic watched from his vantage point high above the plateau, the Agricans gradually appeared to calm down. The machine's whine increased to deafening proportions, and the people slowly turned and began advancing toward the cliff.
Karic felt drawn. Only with the greatest of efforts did he control the impulse to join his fellow Agricans. If he hadn't been so far away, he realized, if the Guide's powers weren't aimed in another direction . . .
He forced his attention back to the people below. Would Necator deem his experiment a success if he were able to halt the crowd at the edge of the cliff, or would it require sending them over to fully test the Guide? From bitter experience with the man, Karic doubted the Lord Commander would be satisfied with anything less than the death of the Agricans. Frantically, Karic searched his mind for some way to stop the mass slaughter.
He could run back to the cave and get the blaster, but it would do little good against so many armed guards. Even if he managed to damage the Guide in the process, he'd also alert the Bellatorians to his presence. He eyed the skim crafts located just behind the Guide. It would be impossible to escape pursuit with Liane in his arms.
The possibility of once more influencing the Guide flashed through his mind. Could he perhaps change its sound pattern again, negate its aural reprograming effects? It was worth a try.
Karic summoned forth all his strength and psychically directed a message to the machine, attempting to scramble its sound waves. Time passed as he hammered against it, the sweat beading his brow. For a fleeting instant, Karic thought he heard the shrill tones waver, then his concentration broke.
It was too much. The Guide's seductive pull, now more powerful than ever, had quickly weakened him.
He lay there for a few secundae, drained, his chest heaving, his body damp and trembling. Then, gathering his strength, Karic tried again. This time the sounds didn't waver, though he thought his brain would explode from the effort. The pain drove him to the brink of consciousness before he finally broke contact.
It was hopeless, Karic realized, impossible to maintain such intense effort long enough to effect any change. The now more sophisticated, highly evolved Guide was beyond his abilities of control. Indeed, he could barely resist it himself! The grave danger to all Agrica, Cat and non-Cat Man alike, was growing with each passing sol.
Fists clenched in impotent rage, Karic watched as the Agricans' mental resistance dissolved. One by one, they tumbled over the cliff. There were no cries of fear as they fell onto the rocks below. As the last victim disappeared over the edge, Necator ordered the machine shut down. The Guide was once more silent.
Karic stumbled back to the cave, horrified at what he'd witnessed. The enormity of its significance grew with each step. Now, not only for Liane's sake but for the sake of the entire planet, he must get back to his lair. This time, he must convince his people to take an active part in the destruction of the Guide and its evil creators. If they didn't, all would be lost.
Fleetingly, Karic realized that if he'd stayed with Liane in Fodina or, worse still, gone on to Lyrae, he'd never have witnessed the Guide's horrible new powers. He refused to ignore the ominous warning again. If he couldn't win the Council's support this time, he'd go after the machine alone.
But first, he must get Liane back to the lair. She was no better, he noted when he crawled into the cave. She felt hot, so very hot, and the sight of her flushed face and fever-glazed eyes only increased his anxiety.
It would be dangerous to travel with Liane in sol light, but Karic knew he must get her to Agna, and quickly, or even the old healer's skills might not be enough to save her. He stared down at Liane tenderly, his eyes lovingly scanning her delicate features and slender form. Gently, Karic brushed away the ebony hair clinging to her fever-damp face. Then, pulling her into his arms, he backed out of the cave. Striding up the mountain, Karic headed toward home.
It was past mid nocte when Karic finally staggered into the lair and was met by his father. Morigan took one look at Liane and motioned for his son to move ahead.
''The Guide," Karic began as they hurried along. "Once more I've seen it, and its powers are now beyond my ability to control it. We're in the gravest danger. I must speak to the Council, convince them this time . . ."
"Later," his father said. "A few horas more or less won't make much difference, and at this moment Liane's need is greater. In the meantime, I'll speak to the Council for you."
Karic nodded and followed his father into Agna's cave.
She was up, a brisk fire already burning in the round stone hearth and a pot of water steaming over it. Her healing tools and supplies were laid out upon the table. Agna looked at Karic's grimy, haggard face.
"What happened to the femina?"
He carried Liane to the pallet laid out before the fire. "Rapax wounds that had begun to heal, then broke open again and festered," Karic said. "They've been grieving her for about two sols now. Can you help her?"
The old healer poured some green liquid into a bowl. "We'll see. First, I need to examine Liane. You two leave while I undress her."
Karic hesitated. "I don't want to leave."
Agna made a shooing motion. "Get on with you. Will you waste my precious healer's time in argument? I'll call you back as soon as I've made her decent."
When they returned, Liane was on her stomach, a fur covering her from the waist down. Karic hurried over and knelt at her side.
"What do you think, Agna?"
The old healer joined him, a bowl that contained a green salve in her hand. At the sight of the swollen, pus-filled wounds, she grimaced.
"Worse than I thought. Bring me the box of rags and my cleansing water," she ordered, gesturing back toward the table.
Karic quickly complied. "What can I do to help?"
"Move to her head and hold down her arms and shoulders. And you, my lord," she said, glancing up at Morigan, "if you would, steady her hips and legs. What I'm about to do will cause her great pain, and I don't need her moving about."
She gazed down at Liane and grimly shook her head. "This must be quick and thorough, for we've little time to spare. The blood poison, even now, threatens her life."
For the next sol, Liane hovered between life and death. Karic never left her side, maintaining his vigil with her slender hand clasped in his. Early the second sol, Liane's fever broke and her fitful slumber eased.
Agna's hand settled on Karic's shoulder. "I made you a pallet." She gestured to some furs and blankets laid out against a nearby wall. "Take your rest there. She is out of danger now. You're no good to her if you sicken yourself."
"You'll call me if she wakes?"
The old healer smiled. "You know I will."
Karic rose and staggered over to the small bed. Throwing himself down, he promptly fell asleep.
It was early evening before he awoke to Agna shaking him.
"My lord? Your femina is asking for you."
Karic groggily sat up. Agna's hand stayed him when he made a move to rise.
"I'll await you outside," she said smiling down at him, "and give you time to talk with her."
Before the old woman was out of the cave Karic was at Liane's side, kneeling to take her hand in his. Intense blue eyes gazed up at him.
"Karic?" Liane murmured. "Where am I?"
He dragged in a breath before answering her. "I had to bring you back to the lair. It was the only way to save your life."
She stared up at him for a long moment, then her eyes filled with tears. "You propromised to take me to Lyrae. You lied."
Liane pulled her hand from his clasp and turned her face away. "You
lied
, Karic," she whispered.
Pain stabbed through him. He knew how his act in bringing her here must appear. Once again, she thought he'd broken his word. Frustration, at the unkind fate that ceaselessly threw one obstacle then another in the path of their love, rose to overwhelm him. Curse it all! It wasn't his fault!
Anger roughened his grasp, as he took Liane's chin and turned her face to him. "I didn't lie," Karic corrected her. "Don't lay that upon me, too. You'd be dead if I hadn't brought you here. There was no other choice."
She glared up at him, her anger giving her strength. "Then will you still take me to Lyrae, once I am better?"
His eyes narrowed, and a hardness settled over his features. "You know that's no longer an option. Within this lair, we are again bound by its laws."
"Then I say curse you," Liane hissed, "for you have brought me back to a far worse fate than death could have ever been. Once again you have betrayed me for your people. I hate you!"
Her anger-bright eyes never left his. "I hate you, Karic," she softly repeated.
"No, Liane," Karic rasped, "you don't hate me." He released his grip on her and climbed to his feet. ''But that knowledge is more frightening than your hatred can ever be, for you won't face it, will you?"
He stared down with tormented eyes. "What else could I do but bring you back? You know I couldn't let you die. I love you too much for that. But none of that matters, does it? As hard as I try, I can't seem to make it right between us. I can't seem to do anything but cause you pain, over and over and over again."
Karic turned to lean against the mantle. "Choose me at the Mating Festival," he hoarsely said. "I will not force myself upon you, not then or ever. And when the time is right, I will take you from here, to Lyrae or anywhere else you wish to go. I will do this, go against my people and laws, and have it done between us. I swear it, Liane."
"And what is this or any of your other promises to me, Karic?" she bitterly replied. "They mean nothing,
nothing
to you. You'll break this one just as surely as you did all the others. I cannot trust you. Go away," she brokenly whispered. "Just go away!"
For a moment Karic's shoulders heaved with the effort to contain his fierce emotions. Then he strode from Agna's lair.
Liane gazed after him, silence settling heavily in the little cave. Finally, the old healer tottered in.
"You must end this battle with the young lord," she solemnly chided Liane, kneeling beside her. "It is tearing both of you apart. You must accept that part of him that is committed to our people. He would not be the man you love without it."
"But it is that same part that will someday separate us," Liane whispered. "He wants me to be his mate, but he can promise me nothing. And I refuse to be a breeder, to be passed around at the whim of your exalted Council everytime they deem fit."
"Nothing is certain in this existence, child," Agna sighed. "Neither love, nor life, nor permanent happiness. I bore my children and loved my man, never guessing I'd outlive them all, but even if I'd known, I'd have done it all the same. You cannot avoid the pain of living. It will find you despite your best efforts. But you can miss the loving and the happiness, if you don't grasp it while you can."
She tenderly brushed the tangled hair from Liane's forehead. "Beware, child, that you condemn yourself to such a fate. Regret can sear the soul far worse than loss ever can."
Liane's eyes lifted to Agna. "I am so afraid."
"I know, child, I know." The old woman stroked her, her touch strangely soothing. "Now, sleep for a time. You need to rest and heal. Time enough to deal with your heart when you waken."
Comforted by the feather-light fingers gliding down her face, Liane's eyes closed. Agna was right, she drowsily thought. The problems of her heart could indeed wait . . . just a little while . . . longer . . .