A Warrior's Sacrifice (11 page)

After long enough standing at the edge and watching, never participating, Corwin learned what it was they wanted — those forgotten and neglected boys and girls of his crèches. He saw past the base instincts, saw to the core of their actions and witnessed what they longed for: to be desired.

It was easy to accomplish with sex, the act of getting close to another, desiring another's body. But it wasn't just the sex that they had wanted; it was to be needed by another as a person, as an entity. They had hungered to be
important
to someone else in a way unrelated to their test scores or heritage. They wanted closeness and togetherness — things that most of those raised in the crèche system never had. They searched for it anyway, even though they didn't know what it was; they groped in darkness in search of something that they had no skill to find.

And like the others, Corwin had needed it too, and he had, in fact, once long ago known what it meant to be loved. But throughout his time in the Republic, Corwin the outsider, the Quisling, had never been able to sate that particular hunger — and because he'd known love, it strangled him all the more. So he had pushed down his memories and feelings, hidden them away behind layers of loneliness and anger and hatred, until he had forgotten.

Almost forgotten.

That was what scared him the most about the look Phae gave him, not her desire to be loved, for that was what he, too, longed for. What terrified him was that he saw willingness.

"I, I'll be right back. I need to make a couple calls," Corwin said, trying to hide his physical response to her look.

What changed?
Corwin thought to himself. Six hours before, Phae couldn't stand to be near him, and now? A complete reversal. It was stress, maybe. Trauma and challenge combining to bring disparate people closer together. And that was fine; they needed to work together, needed to trust one another.

Corwin was aware in some distant part of his mind that as the days went on, as their trust grew, he'd have a harder time resisting the urges of the body and heart. He knew also that her love would be his salvation, but the vagaries and chances of war could snatch her from him like they'd stolen the lives from those Quislings. He would not, could
not
open himself up to that kind of trauma.

Not again.

Yet despite his protests, deep down, kilometers below the surface, a crack formed. The fissure released that which Corwin had hidden away so long ago. Up through the layers it gurgled, a small geyser of hope erupting into his soul.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tucked just around the edge of the doorway to the medical room, Corwin typed at his com. This first message was to the intelligence branch of the Oniwabanshu. It contained just a few lines of text, but it was enough to send people all across the Republic scurrying in preparation for an Inquest.

Corwin wrote:

Ashi-Kage involvement in local Quisling raiding. Have suspect. Need someone to investigate. Level of infiltration high; normal routes of communication unsafe.

The next wasn't a message as much as it was a search. By setting the orb on the ground, Corwin used his com to take a 3-D scan. His first query within the Republic Archives returned a null report. He wasn't surprised by that; it was an obvious piece of alien tech, and the universe was vast, containing civilizations millennia older than the race of Humans.

He debated his next step. The device he held could be nothing more than some sort of projector, a music player maybe. Diligence was what made him cue the picture behind the thousands of other queries in the IGL, the Intergalactic Library.

Humanity, low as it was on the Alliance totem pole, was allowed only a single search slot. That meant that a single computer in the inner sanctum of the Oniwabanshu headquarters was connected to the IGL, and it could search one term, one phrase, or one piece of tech at a time. Upon installation of the computer, the First Exiles asked the Prehson why that was the case. The alien technicians gave a complicated excuse that amounted to nothing more than "bandwidth issues."

He expected, therefore, that it would be months or years before his query was returned. Corwin created a file in the Oniwabanshu's Artifact Archives and routed the return information to that file; he'd turn in the device to that same organization as soon as he could.

Corwin shivered. The cold that pervaded the hard plasteel walls and floor had seeped into his skin. He stood and stretched, fatigued limbs protesting.

As he worked sore muscles, his attention turned towards the two brothers now locked in the city's jail, and his body and mind sputtered like a preinvasion motor vehicle. A few of the emotions from the day's dark activities spilled over the edge of the barrier that kept them from Corwin's conscious mind. It was a sledgehammer blow.

Despite the cold, Corwin leaned back against the wall. The chaos and wreckage of the settlement: torn bodies and blood splashed against the walls, on the grass; the fear of the Grunts, fear for his own life, fear for his Voidmates'. Then the assault on the Quisling caravan and the dead children caught in the crossfire and the realization that he didn't much care to spare them. Worse was his flippant near-execution of the surviving Quisling kids.

He held his hand to his head, pressing it back hard against the wall; the pain somehow brought clarity to his whirling thoughts. He gripped on tight and fought them back into the recesses of his mind, back to where they belonged and were most comfortable.

He'd regained his composure by the time that Phae, arm held in a sling, walked through the door. "The Medics are ready to see you."

"Fine," Corwin said through the glower that had retaken its customary place. He knelt to gather his things, slipping the orb back into his pack.

Phae's well-formed legs stepped into his peripheral vision. "What's that?"

Corwin focused on the bag. On the orb in the bag. Of the weight of it in his hands — anything to keep from looking at Phae. "I have no idea," he said, standing as he slung the pack around one shoulder. "I cued an imaged of it into the research slot of the IGL, but…" he finished the sentence with a shrug.

"Let me see it," Phae said as she reached around Corwin to grab the bag.

Surprised, Corwin shifted to keep the bag out of reach, a movement that brought their bare bodies into contact. Corwin tensed and backed up, oblivious to the wall behind.

He hit his head, hard, and in that moment of stunned surprise, Phae was on him, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling their lips together in a kiss. The heat would have burned the sun. Phae pressed her body in close, her muscled Tercio physique still somehow lissome and feminine. They lingered there a moment. A moment longer. Corwin pushed her back. He didn't push her far, just enough to get some breathing room.

He didn't want to let go.

"What are you doing?" Corwin asked. His voice hoarse, throaty.

Phae answered in kind. "I want you." She grabbed him again. Corwin gave in to the kiss.

Corwin pulled himself free and placed a hand onto Phae's breastbone. The action wasn't meant to be sexual, but the meeting of skin was electric, thrilling, and his whole arm seemed to tingle.

"Why?" he asked. "Why now?"

Phae slid her hand down his shoulders, across his back until it alighted on his lower back. She pulled their hips together, pressing against him and moving in slow, circular motions. "Does it really matter?"

She went in for another kiss. Corwin held her fast, but he could feel his resolve waning. "Yes. It does. To me."

She rolled her eyes. "Because I'm horny and Maharatha, and you are the only Human here that won't make me fall to jendr." She pressed in again.

With his free hand, Corwin swept her hand from his hip. At the same time he spun, using the hand on her chest to drive her backward into the wall. The impact knocked the wind from her. Her lips worked as she gasped for air. Corwin put his now stony and impassive face into hers. "You will not use me and recycle me like an empty protein carton."

He left Phae there panting at the wall, walked into the medical room, and sat down on the edge of one of the empty beds. "Do what you need to do, and do it fast," he said, surprised at the cold in his voice. He dismissed it with a mental shrug. He had a job to do here, and cavorting with a Void member wasn't part of that.

As the Medics stitched at his various hurts, Corwin glowered. He was at a loss for his next steps. He'd need to report mission success to his handler at the Oniwabanshu and would receive new orders as a result, though he couldn't leave until he made contact with the Inquest Operative in the area.

Corwin's com chimed. He leaned back to keep the view screen out of sight of the Medics and thumbed the new message open; it lacked name or number. The message read:

Question: "Have you ever tasted anything so grand?"

You Answer: "Once, when I was younger."

From the Inquest operative, then,
he thought. Corwin read the message one more time and deleted it then closed his com.

"All right, sir," the lead Medic said. "You and your Voidmates are ready to go. Maharatha Kai will need another twelve hours yet, and Maharatha Niwin another six or so."

"Fine. Good work."

"You give us dreng, sir," Channa said with a bow.

As the last Medic filed through the door, Phae entered. She brushed past Corwin and slid onto the empty bed on the opposite side of the room. Corwin locked the door with his passcode, dimmed the lights to almost black and returned to his own bed. "Get some sleep," he said. "Once Kai is up we'll shower and grab some food."

No answer but the slow breath of sleep. Corwin lay back, but sleep was a long time coming as memories of battle and fantasies of a woman rolled through his mind like a summer storm.

A knock at the door just over eleven hours later brought all four Maharatha to their feet — Kai with a groan — with guns in their hands. After raising the lights and checking through the keypad's viewfinder, Corwin opened the door.

The Medics from before waited just outside the door, wary of the Maharatha bristling with weaponry.

"We came to check in on your healing progress, sirs and ma'ams," the lead Medic said. "With your permission, we'd like to enter."

Corwin slid back onto his bed and waved them in with his free hand. From the corner of his eye, he thought he caught a glimpse of Phae staring at him, but when he glanced in her direction, she'd looked away.

The Medic and her team stifled coughs and scrunched noses as they walked into the room. It was a commendable act, as the four battle-worn Maharatha had yet to shower. The smell was overpowering.

The Medics went about their business, and Corwin paid them no mind, thinking again of his next course of action. They needed to report their mission completion, and soon, but he was reluctant to jump back out into the field to kill again. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of their enforced fast yesterday; he caught a whiff of himself, too. Priorities. First a shower, then food, then report in. The Republic could survive a few more hours without them.

"All right, Commander Shura, sir," Channa said, standing before her gathered team. "Everything checks out. Maharatha Kai and Maharatha Niwin will be sore, but normal movement will work the kinks out. Is there anything else you need of us?"

"No, Medic. Your care has been exemplary."

"You give us dreng, sir," she said with a deep bow, and her team followed suit. They left without another word or a backward glance.

"What now, sir?" Kai asked as he worked his torso side to side.

Corwin kept his eyes locked onto Kai's as Phae stretched in the background. "We all need a shower, then some food."

Corwin waved his Voidmates over to the cubbies arranged in a grid beside the shower entryway. "We need to keep an eye on our gear," he said in a low voice.

"I'll stand first watch with Kai," Chahal said.

"Fine," Corwin said. Placing his com and pistol into a cubby, he turned to tackle the showers.

Combat against a pack of angry Grunts couldn't elicit the same amount of anxiety as stepping into the showers did for Corwin. They ranked among his highest dislikes of anything within the Republic. This single shower serviced the entire military stationed in Outpost-G57, which meant that at any given time, it was occupied by upwards of a hundred men and women. The shower heads installed in the ceiling extruded a constant hiss and stream of choking water, and the din of voices leapt from the shower entrance like a war band sheltering inside a cave.

They had been the location of many of Corwin's childhood altercations, and sometimes he dreamed of the blood as it twisted its way across the floor to the drain. And the pokes and prods at his groin. The taunts and questions about his penis, if it was Human, Choxen, or Siloth, or maybe a mixture of all three, seeing as his parents had sex with aliens. And the sharp nails dug into sensitive flesh. And he couldn't get away from them because the steam seemed to slow him down, choked him and held him and strangled him.

The scared little boy that dwelled within Corwin squirmed, halfway out of his cage. With gritted teeth and sheer force of will, Corwin pushed him back inside. He hammered at the bars.

Corwin forced himself onward, jaw set, eyes bleak. He was covered in a fine mist as soon as he crossed the threshold. He fought the urge to run as the noise of people and echoes, the crush of bodies, and the oppressive steam assaulted his senses. It was claustrophobic. The walls closed in, and the edge of his vision and his mind started to go black. Corwin fought for control.