Alien Redemption [Clans of Kalquor 06] (46 page)

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They’d gone to the hospital first to look into the resources for Sletran. The place was abuzz as people tried to figure out why Global Security had escorted Dr. Kivokan from the psychiatric wing. Conyod and Rachel had pretended surprise, but the Imdiko had thought it necessary to drop in on Dr. Govi to apprise him of the goings-on. Since Raxstad was Govi’s Nobek, a revelation that had surprised Rachel to no end, Conyod figured it would be safe enough to share the whole story with his superior.

A surprise had been waiting for Conyod when he and Rachel had been granted entrance into Govi’s office. An older psychiatrist, Imdiko Hupsan, was there. It turned out he’d been Conyod’s personal therapist when her clanmate was a boy. He’d come to the hospital, hoping to speak with Conyod.

Everyone sat down. Hupsan was brought up to speed, as was Govi. The startled exclamations rang in the room, along with apologies to Rachel for some of the language they used. She’d waved them off, having been taught some of the fouler terms by Sletran already.

She’d been more interested in how Conyod seemed to relax as he shared his pain of the last months, as well as his anger over how things had gotten so out of control for his Nobek.

“So I’m going over to the Nobek psychiatric wing to see what can be done for my clanmate,” he finished up. “I’m hoping they’ll have space for him as soon as Global Security lets him go.”

Govi said quietly, “I don’t think the hospital is the place for Sletran. I think a facility, one that serves entire clans in trouble, would be more appropriate.”

Conyod blinked. “Well, Erybet definitely needs some intervention as well—”

“You all do,” Hupsan interrupted. His expression as he looked at Conyod was kind. “We discussed whole clan counseling, though at the time I didn’t realize just how big the problem was. Intensive live-in therapy is called for in this instance for every one of you. You are in great trouble yourself, Conyod. The stress of the last year – even before, when you couldn’t contact Erybet and Sletran while they were on New Bethlehem – has been monumental. If you don’t get help, I fear you will shake apart even as your clanmates recover.”

Govi nodded. “He’s right. We’re a sensitive breed, which serves our clans well. But we tend to forget our own needs in deference to our clanmates. We often don’t see the damage we’ve been dealt until we’re in crisis.”

“I’m not in crisis. I’m fine now that I finally know what’s going on,” Conyod hotly protested.

“You feel fine because you’re angry and there’s a problem to solve. Once everyone else is taken care of, it’s all going to come crashing down on your head.” Govi frowned. “It’s not a weakness to accept help, Conyod. You know that better than most.”

“But, but there’s Rachel.” Conyod looked at her, his gaze searching. “She’s thriving.

Today has been stressful, but things are beginning to work out. You are okay?”

Rachel nodded. She was even capable of speaking normally once more. “I’m still worried about Sletran, but once he’s been completely cleared of the charges, I’ll be fine.”

Govi found a smile. “I simply can’t get enough of hearing you talk, Ray-Ray, whether it’s Kalquorian or your native language. When I think of the shattered, silent young woman who was brought here not so long ago and how far you’ve come, it makes me feel good.”

He turned to Conyod again. “There is no doubt Rachel’s progress is ongoing. But she now belongs to a clan struggling to find itself. To re-invent itself actually, since none of you will ever be the same after all you’ve been through. She needs to know exactly what is going on with all of you and how to help you live with the trauma you’ve suffered.”

Hupsan was adamant. “You’ve got to let go of the reins, Conyod. This is more than you can fix, especially since you’re as broken in your own way as your clanmates.”

Conyod had nothing to say to that. Rachel took his hand, offering what little comfort she could.

Govi typed some notes on his computer. “I’m going to call around and see what I can find.

You said Bevau offered to sign off on whatever Sletran needed. Since what he needs is the best possible care and his clanmates to share in it, that’s exactly what I’ll arrange for the lot of you.”

“The emperor may not appreciate that,” Conyod said.

“No, but neither does Bevau appreciate Clajak berating him, which is what will happen if he doesn’t follow through.” Govi grinned at Rachel. “My Dramok is Emperor Clajak’s personal aide. He knows exactly how to push his buttons in matters like this.”

Rachel’s eyebrows rose. Govi had some really serious connections, and he was apparently not afraid to use them. And for her clan’s benefit too. Her warm feelings for the Imdiko grew.

Now they were home, and Conyod’s mood seemed to lift a little as they stepped into Sletran’s private room. The Nobek used it mostly to work out and practice moves that reminded Rachel of Earth’s martial arts. His space had a reflective surface on one wall. The wooden floor beneath Rachel’s feet seemed solid but it had some give to it too. A thick mat lay in one corner, and wooden and metal parrying rods of various lengths and thicknesses hung on the wall opposite the mirror. Another wall contained vids and shelves with personal items stacked on them.

Conyod poked around the shelves. “He won’t need much from in here, since he won’t be allowed any sort of weapons. He keeps all his clothes in the sleeping room’s closet, so I’ll have to go in there to find him something clean. Let’s see, what else?” He grabbed a handheld from one shelf. “I’ll load this with some reading material, lectures, and music he might like.”

Rachel was interested in the vids. They looked similar to the badges that had hung on Breft’s office wall. These also had Kalquorian words written over them, but she couldn’t decipher enough of the symbols to figure out what they said.

Conyod noticed her fascination. He smiled. “Our Nobek does a lot for others.” He started pointing to each one, explaining them in turn. “This one is for heading up a rebuilding effort when a Joshadan village was impacted by an earthquake. This one is for volunteering on a search and rescue effort when a shuttle went down in the mountain range near my parents’ home.

And these three are for his work in donating his time to teach Imdikos self-defense. He says those awards actually belong to me, because I was the one who got him started doing it.”

Rachel looked at him questioningly. He smiled, his expression nostalgic.

“It’s kind of an embarrassing story. I was a teenager at the time, fifteen years old. I’d run away from home because conditions had become so stifling following my brother’s death. You saw how my mother and Nobek father are still very protective of me.”

Rachel nodded. “They love you.”

“Yes, but it’s the kind of love that does more harm than good if not kept in check.”

“So what happened after you ran away?”

“I ended up in a town that was close to a Nobek training camp. It had given leave to its students that day, and four of them about my age decided to pick on me. They’d been drinking, and the situation was getting physical. Sletran, who was older, saw what was going on and got pissed off. He was there in an instant and had them all on the ground before they knew what had hit them. Busted a knee on each of them so they couldn’t get away. Then he took a stick and whipped them all like children in front of everyone.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide. “Wow. You’d never met him before?”

“No. That was our introduction.” Conyod chuckled at the memory.

“Then you became friends?”

“I suppose you could call it that. Sletran marched me to the authorities when he found out I’d run away from home.” Conyod hesitated a moment, making Rachel think there might have been more to the story than that. He shrugged. “It was a mess, because it’s considered a very big deal when a young Imdiko leaves home like that. Anyway, Sletran took an interest in my welfare for whatever reason. He visited me when he was able, and taught me how to defend myself. He said being an Imdiko was no excuse for not being able to fight. I was kind of small at the time and easy prey for bullies.”

“You filled out nicely,” Rachel said with a naughty grin.

“So have you. You were a skinny thing when you first got here.”

“Back to the story,” she insisted, getting a whiff of his spicy arousal aroma. “When did you know you wanted to be clanned with him?”

“Almost right away.” Conyod chuckled. “I had the worst case of hero worship you can imagine. When he went into the military and was stationed too far away to visit easily, I’d send him messages all the time.”

“You were in love.”

He snorted. “I was infatuated, a little boy with a very big crush. I thought about him every day and made a pest out of myself. He put up with it, which shows you just how patient he is. I was still just a kid, so he didn’t take me seriously for a while.”

“How did you end up being in the same clan?”

“I grew up. I stayed in touch with him all those years, and he was kind enough to send messages of encouragement as I trained for my psychology career. Then towards the end of my basic schooling, I attended a three-day conference near where he was stationed. I got him to meet me for dinner. A few mugs of kloq later, he followed me to my room.”

Rachel grinned. “You smooth devil. I guess he liked what you had to offer.”

Conyod played nonchalant. “I don’t like to brag, but I couldn’t have gotten rid of him after that if I’d tried. Not that I did try, you understand.”

Rachel laughed and he joined her. “I wish I could have seen the two of you, getting to know each other.”

Conyod pointed to a vid showing a picture of him, Sletran, and Erybet sitting on the balcony, the three relaxed and seemingly happy. “He’s got a few stills stored in that vid of us all.

Show stills, clan pictures, oldest first.”

The vid projected a new shot. This one had the three looking much younger and laughing at each other as if they’d just shared a joke. Sletran and Erybet were in green and brown formsuits and tall boots that reached to their knees. Their belts had holstered percussion blasters and knives. Rachel guessed these outfits were their military uniforms. Metallic bars, two on Sletran’s chest and three on Erybet’s, seemed to denote their rank. Between them was a beaming Conyod, looking impossibly young and happy in a dark green outfit of well-fitted trousers and jacket.

“Our clanning ceremony,” Conyod said. His smile had dimmed, and he was blinking fast.

The vid went through several pictures, all of which showed a very happy clan as the years passed, their faces not yet touched by tragedy. Not yet touched by New Bethlehem. It made Rachel wonder how she herself had changed after her imprisonment, even if her scars hadn’t been present. If she saw pictures of the time when she’d been with Marcus, would she recognize herself?

Conyod’s voice ground out between clenched teeth as he watched pictures change. “Look at them. That’s who they used to be. That’s what Commander Akrij destroyed. That’s what that gurluck took from me.”

His fist suddenly slammed into the wall, making it shiver. His scream reverberated, making Rachel’s ears pop. “You hateful bastard! They trusted you! I swear by my ancestors, even if you aren’t the killer, I’ll break your bones for this!”

He kept screaming, unleashing a torrent of pain and fury. Rachel realized Emperor Bevau hadn’t really been joking when he’d spoken of an Imdiko gone violent. She thought if Akrij had been there at that moment, Conyod would have done everything in his power to kill him.

After a few earsplitting seconds, the screams stopped. Wracking sobs replaced them. He fell to his knees and hunched over, his body lurching with every harsh burst of emotion.

Rachel knelt next to him. Her eyes were streaming as she wrapped her arms around his jerking shoulders. “You’ll get them back, Conyod. You’ll get them back now that we know what happened. It’s going to get better.”

He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her against him as he shed long-overdue grief against her breast. She held him close, humming a comforting tune and rocking the distraught Imdiko. How long the storm lasted, she didn’t know. She simply held him and loved him and reassured him as best she could. Rachel was now her beloved’s shelter, repaying the long months of his care in kind. And while she hated the pain he was in, she wouldn’t have traded this moment of being Conyod’s strength for all the world.

Rachel stroked his long hair, kissing the top of his head as the worst of his agony slowly passed. He raised his face to hers. She pressed her mouth to his, letting her tongue slide between his lips to stroke its twin. He moaned, returning the kiss with a desperate hunger.

“Let me love you. Let me show you it’s going to be all right,” she whispered into his mouth.

“Yes.”

She rose and went to the corner to drag Sletran’s workout mat to the center of the room.

“Lie down,” she encouraged Conyod. He did so.

Rachel pulled his boots off, and then moved up to kneel between his legs. She found the front seam of his formsuit and opened it down the middle of his chest. She leaned over him, propping herself on one hand while using the other to open the formsuit wide. She kissed the skin she bared, her lips traveling over its smooth expanse. When she found the dark brown disc of one nipple, she ran her tongue over it, making the tip pebble. Conyod groaned, his eyes becoming unfocused. She sucked gently, and he hissed with reaction.

“Ray-Ray,” he moaned.

She kissed her way over to the other nipple, treating it to kisses, licks, and sucks. She felt his groin swelling beneath her belly, and he moved against her in reaction to the attention.

Rachel rose up, grasping the shoulders of his formsuit and pulling it down. He shifted to help her peel it from his upper body and arms. She stripped him down to his narrow waist and went back to tasting.