TICEES (41 page)

Chelan nodded weakly. She had lost the ability to fight.

“My Lady, I’ll contact Ticees right now and ask why Dar was passed over. Will that help?”

Chelan shook her head. “Whatever his true motives, he will have all the right answers. You know that.”

Korba hung his head. Unfortunately, she was right. If Ticees were trying to hide a sinister rationale for the change, nothing would wring the truth out of the man other than complete insubordination, a move that could have dire repercussions for all involved.

He sat her down on the bed gently and then stood. He watched her as he removed his uniform. Then he turned to have a shower. When he returned, she still had not moved. “Come on,” he said. “We both need some sleep.”

Chelan stood and slowly removed her gown. Korba watched her heavy movements as she lay down, pulled the blankets about her, and closed her eyes against him. Korba slipped in beside her and surrounded her with his arms, but she was totally flaccid, her body unresponsive to him.

His fingers traced lovingly over the back of her slender neck, fanning out along her shoulders and back. “I love you, Chelan, more than life itself,” he whispered.

She took in a deep and tattered breath. “I love you, too.” That was all she could manage without completely becoming unhinged.

Korba turned her to him and pressed her into his powerful, bronze body. He held her quietly for a long time, feeling her body quiver with marrow-deep pain, and he wished that he could absorb all her sorrows and heal her troubled soul. But he was struggling with his own mounting grief and his own disturbing sense of nearly intolerable helplessness. He looked down at the fragile woman in his arms, and he kissed her tenderly, feeling her clutch at him in her quiet desperation.

Chelan tried to regain control of herself and her thoughts. But she could no longer see through the quagmire of depression that was descending upon her. As distraught as she was, she was still at a loss as to the true source of her fears. Was it actually Ticees? After all, he had been the perfect gentleman over the past months. Or was it that she was losing Korba? Was the volatility of the mission and the threat to his life the true origin of her renewed misery? It was not so long ago that she had been confronted with his loss, and that harrowing experience still lay like molten lead within her heart. She could never face that possibility again and ever hope to rebound. Attempting to endure his death would simply be catastrophic.

She traced aimless circles on his smooth flesh as she braced herself against impending rejection. Either way, whether her fears lay with Ticees or with the mission, she had to appeal to him one last time. He had to help her, or she would be rendered defenseless. “I want a part of you inside me,” she whispered. “I want your baby, Korba. I want a part of you to hang onto should anything happen.”

Korba felt the air leave his lungs, her words tugging at his battered heart and bruising his very soul. He held her tightly, burying his face in her long hair. “Nothing is going to happen to me, Chelan. I’m coming home, and our time will come.”

Chelan squeezed her eyes shut against his denial, but she was too weak to protest. She was defeated, and, after a long time, she receded into an uneasy sleep.

*****

The morning came, and Korba arose, but Chelan remained still, unable to garner the strength or the will to rise. He could tell by her shallow respirations that she was struggling against an internal war that he was powerless to help her win. He was beside himself over the demons that were consuming her, and he could only hope that the battle raging within abated soon. But as the day progressed, it was clear that she was deteriorating fast.

Korba had taken a moment away from her to alert Fremma as to her condition, and the warrior promised to take good care of her in his absence. Then he went to Stose, relieving the doctor from his duties on RIBUS 7 and assigning him to stay within the Palace for Chelan’s care, an assignment the doctor graciously accepted. He would look in on her the moment Korba left and begin administering whatever support and care he could.

The evening went by slowly, and Chelan never moved from the bed, sleep being her only escape from dismal reality. Korba decided to work in the Command Center, making final preparations for the mission, but his close presence proved to be of little avail to her.

He attended her as night fell, but still she refused to rise, and Korba was forced to give up. He crawled into bed with her, but his own sleep would not come. Finally, as the wee hours of the morning were upon them, Chelan scrambled to his side, and she began to consume him feverishly. Korba responded, but their lovemaking was frenzied, and Korba felt himself becoming sick with fear for her.

At dawn, he forced himself from her and watched as she rolled away from him, her eyes dull, her body vanquished. Then he showered and dressed, returning to find her sitting on the bed, adorned in her pink gown.

Korba’s own eyes became heavy as he beheld her, her beauty drawn, her body appearing gaunt. He knelt before her and slumped into her lap. Her soft hands gently stroked him.

Chelan was numb, her depression deep, and all she could do was stare at him, etching his image into her tortured soul. Then her hands stilled, and she studied him as if she had never seen him before. Her stomach began to turn, and her chest ached. For some reason, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would never see him again. The reason for his absolute loss eluded her, but whatever it was, the outcome was going to be final. She ran her fingers through his hair, and her body began to tremble, the immutable conclusion stunning her, the last tendrils of her sanity fragmenting. Her world had capsized, and nothing was going to right it.

Korba sensed the pall that had just descended, this veil of dread deeper than anything that had gone before. He rose from her and looked into her wide eyes. “Chelan?” he whispered.

Chelan stood and turned her back to him. “I’m never going to see you again,” she revealed.

Korba’s heartsick desperation unexpectedly flared into anger. He stepped up to her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and spinning her to him. “Chelan! Don’t speak that way. That’s absurd.”

Chelan’s eyes glazed with anguish. Korba watched her, his throat constricting. Then he clutched her to him in a futile bid to heal all that plagued her. “Oh god, Chelan, I’m so sorry.” He kissed her head tenderly, and shut his eyes, his heart breaking. “I have to go,” he whispered.

Suddenly, Chelan snapped. She twisted from him wildly and backed away from him. “No! I’m never going to see you again!” she yelled, and she whirled away from him and ran toward the doors.

Korba was on her instantly, and he seized her forcefully. “Don’t say that!” he shouted sharply.

“No!” she cried. “I’m losing you!” Her fists slammed into his chest.

“Chelan! You’re not making sense! You are not going to lose me. I will return.”

“Take me with you,” she begged, her tears cascading down her face. “I need you. Please don’t abandon me!” she cried.

“I can’t take you with me! And I’m not abandoning you!” his voice boomed.

“You don’t care!” she yelled.

Korba was both stunned and hurt to his core. “Chelan! That’s not true!”

But she was wild, and she struck out at him. She hit him hard across the face, rocking him. Korba’s jaw dropped as he touched his stinging cheek, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“I’m never going to see you again if you leave!” she cried in hysterics. “You don’t understand. I’ll die!”

Korba’s astonishment was instantly replaced by rage. She was beyond reason. But then so was he, and he moved to slap her, intending on hitting her lightly and jarring her back to reality. But Chelan had already begun to turn to flee, and she ran into the full force of his hand. Her head snapped back as she stumbled backward, slamming hard against the wall. Her head hit forcefully, and her world grayed out momentarily.

“Chelan!” cried Korba as he slumped to his knees. “Chelan!” he called. He looked down at his right hand, the sting of the blow still on his palm. He looked back at her, his eyes betraying the horror he felt. “Oh, my Lady,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry.” He went to reach for her but her eyes were wide with terror and she recoiled from him. “Chelan!” he cried, but she was instantly on her feet, running across the room, fleeing from the man who loved her, the man who protected her, and the man who had now struck her.

Korba was temporarily paralyzed, staggered by what had just happened, and it took him a moment to recover. He bolted to his feet as she disappeared into the connecting corridor, but a voice brought him to an abrupt halt.

“My Lord!” shouted a young warrior. “We must leave!”

Korba was gasping for air, his emotions as raw as bloodied meat. He looked toward the door through which Chelan had fled, and he began toward it.

The warrior lunged forward, catching Korba’s shroud. “I’m sorry, Commander. Please. There is a storm coming. If we do not leave immediately, RIBUS 7 will not get off the ground.”

Korba was overcome with agony, a despair cutting so deep that he felt he had just destroyed all that he loved and cherished. His heart pounded in his chest, and he looked at the warrior while his thoughts tumbled in upheaval, unable to process all that was assaulting him. Then he looked back at the doors, and misery settled in his gut like so many shards of glass.

“Please, Commander. There is very little time. Sire, we must go.”

Korba exhaled sharply as though the very life had been beaten from him. He staggered back toward the anxious man, his eyes staring at the doors that had been Chelan’s escape. He cried her name out in anguish, and then he was whisked away.

*****

Chelan was sick. She teetered out into the workout area and slumped against the far wall. He was gone, and she was alone. She touched her face, her cheek and mouth beginning to swell, and she was overtaken by agonizing grief. In their final moments they should have been making love, but instead they had exchanged blows.

Chelan cried until she could cry no more. She knew with every fiber within her body and to the depths of her very soul that he was gone for good, and she would never see him again.

*****

Fremma waited in his quarters until he was sure the RIBUS was gone, and then he waited some more, expecting Chelan at any moment. But the time passed, and still she did not arrive.

Walking quickly, he entered Korba’s quarters, but she was nowhere in sight. Fremma became panicky. The only other alternative was Ticees, and he ran to the morning room, but the breakfast table was clear. Next was Ticees’ chambers, and Fremma flew to them. He pounded on the door. “My Lord!” he shouted.

Ticees opened the door, wide-eyed at Fremma’s urgency. “What is it?”

“Chelan!” shouted Fremma. “Is she with you?”

Ticees froze. “Did Korba take her?” he asked, spontaneous panic edging in on his voice.

“No!” yelled Fremma. “But I can’t find her.”

Ticees turned to use the scanners, but Fremma was already in motion. He had remembered the time that she had walked in on Lena and him, and that she found sanctuary in the workout area.

Ticees didn’t even have time to grab his shroud before he was running down the corridors behind Fremma. His heart was pounding, and his mouth was dry. She had to be within the Palace. She simply had to be.

Fremma crashed through the workout entrance, his eyes wild. “Chelan,” he gasped, and he ran to the fallen figure. He moaned in agony as he knelt down beside her. “Chelan,” he whispered as he pulled her limp body into his lap and pushed her head back into his arms. He cleared the tangled wet hair from her face, and his breath caught.

Ticees’ jaw dropped, and Fremma’s heart sank. “Oh, my Lady,” uttered Fremma, his voice quavering. Her swollen face was beginning to color, and he squeezed her to him as he began to rock her.

Ticees dropped to his knees in stunned silence. Her beauty was marred, her skin pale.

Fremma continued to cradle her as his fingers gently touched her bruised cheek. “Chelan,” he called gently. “Look at me, pretty woman.”

Slowly, her grief-stricken eyes opened to his. “Oh, Fremma.” She winced. “My gentle Fremma,” her voice barely a whisper.

Fremma hugged her closer. His fingers traced over her face, and he shuddered. Her left eye was beginning to blacken, and her lips were split, and Fremma’s heart ached.

Ticees remained silent, watching the warrior, the man desperate in his bid to console the little alien. He wished he could help, but he knew that he should remain in the background.

Fremma looked down into her bloodshot eyes. “What happened, Chelan?”

Chelan closed her eyes and her tears flowed. “He’s gone,” she whimpered, her chin beginning to quiver. “I’ve been stripped of him.” She stiffened and moaned, her face burning, her head and teeth aching.

Fremma held her a long time, and Ticees hung his head. Then the Emperor looked away, asking himself what he had done, and why. He had wanted her, but now he was forced to confront the devastation he had just levied upon her, and his conscience stirred.

Fremma finally pushed her away from him and looked down at her. “He will return, Chelan,” he assured quietly.

Chelan shook her head. “I will never see him again,” she whispered. “I can feel it in my heart.”

Ticees took a deep breath and edged forward. “Chelan,” he began.

Chelan jumped, aware of Ticees’ presence for the first time, and she twisted in Fremma’s arms, pressing into him with a violence that nearly knocked him over. “No!” she cried. “Keep him away from me!”

Ticees recoiled.

“Fremma, he sent Korba away!” she wailed.

Fremma was stunned. “Chelan, it was a mission—”

“No!” interrupted Chelan as she pushed from him. Her tear-stained eyes pleaded with him as she clutched his shroud. “No. Dar was next in line. There was no reason not to send him! Dar was first in line for this mission. Ticees did this deliberately to separate us.”

Fremma gasped at her blunt accusation in front of the Emperor. “Chelan, that’s not true.”

Chelan let her head fall, and she convulsed, the pain in her face eradicating what little defense she could muster.