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Authors: Catherine Asaro

BOOK: Catch the Lightning
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“Is that how you saw it?” Althor stared at him. “Gods, I’ve looked up to you since I was a boy.”

Bloodmark’s stiff postured eased. “I truly am sorry it had to be you. You are—more tolerable than other members of the Rhon.”

“You couldn’t have been faking your friendship,” Althor said. “We’re telepaths. We would have known.”

“And I’m not.”

“Not a telepath?”

“That’s right.”

Althor blinked. “That matters to you?”

“To me?” Bloodmark gave a curt laugh. “No. Only to you. Your family” Bitterness tainted his voice. “You consider yourselves so superior. But you’re not.”

Althor gave him an incredulous look. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. How could you have felt this way without our knowing?”

“Oh, I think your father suspects. Never the full extent of it, but he has far less affection for me. You should have listened to him more, Althor, instead of mouthing off every time he said a word.”

Althor swallowed. “I don’t believe you felt this way. I would have known.”

Bloodmark shrugged. “You would be surprised what a biomech genius can simulate with his own web. At disguise, I am a master.” He considered Althor. “I am proud of you. Of all the systems I’ve designed, you are the most splendid. It is true that biomech demands a high toll: the operations, the danger of parts growing incorrectly, the years of training, the chance of rejection, the security clearances, the price even in our humanity—it is prohibitive, to say the least. But it is worth it. We are a superior species. That day before your eighth birthday, when you took your first step—that was the day I knew my work with you would succeed. My tears then were as real as those your parents shed.”

“Don’t,” Althor said.

“But have you ever thought of the price Imperial Skolia paid for your repair?” Bloodmark came closer to him. “In human terms? Terms such as, say, the planet Far Shore? I was born there, you know. A rough place. Half the population is starving. On a planet with three billion people.” His voice hardened. “The cost of a juice pod on your homeworld would be enough, on Far Shore, to feed a family for days. What it cost to make you a whole human being—that could have fed Far Shore’s entire population for a year.”

Althor stared at him. “You think my family should feed Far Shore?”

“I don’t hold your family responsible for feeding planets. I do find it a sad commentary that the Assembly considered one hideously deformed child more important than the population of an entire planet.”

The mercenary leader spoke. “What do you mean, ‘hideously deformed’? We’re promising to deliver a healthy Jagernaut.”

“Deliver where?” Althor said.

Bloodmark turned to the leader. “He’s quite healthy, I assure you.”

“If there’s a problem,” the leader said, “we damn well better talk about it now.”

“Althor is as physically perfect as human science can make a man,” Bloodmark said.

“Human science?” the leader said. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Ragnar, stop,” Althor said.

Bloodmark glanced at him like a sculptor admiring his work. He turned back to the leader. “He was born with that face. A beautiful child. And that magnificent Rhon brain of his. Unfortunately, that was all he had.” He made a disgusted sound. “Any other two people as closely related as his parents, with such a proclivity for genetic defects, would never have been allowed to breed. But not so for the Rhon. No attempt to make more of them is too desperate.”

“What was wrong with him?” the leader asked.

“Stop it.” Althor stood up, hands still tied behind his back. His guards grasped his upper arms roughly, holding him in place. “He was born without legs,” Bloodmark said. “Left arm and hand deformed, lower right arm missing. One kidney, and that defective. Only part of one lung. Defective heart. Defective liver. Skeletal sections missing. No spleen. Only partial digestive system. He had a stomach, though. You could see it every time you looked at him. He was missing entire portions of the right side of his body.” He grimaced. “It was disgusting.”

“Christ.” The leader motioned at Althor. “And now he looks like that?”

Bloodmark nodded. “We removed him prematurely from the womb because he had more chance of surviving in an artificial environment where we could work on him. We studied his genes to determine what he might have been without his—defects. And then we rebuilt him into that human. It took ten years to make him whole, and another ten to ensure the biomech grew properly with the rest of him.”

Althor said nothing, just stared at Bloodmark. He looked as if he had been kicked in the stomach.

“I don’t like it,” the leader said.

The doctor spoke. “Commander Selei is sound, sir. It’s true, he does carry more biomech than any other case I know of. It’s rarely done on children; only in situations like this when it’s their only chance of survival. But all Jagernauts have webs, so it’s assumed we’ll be delivering biomech.” He walked over to Althor and pointed out his shoulder, as if Althor were an expensive piece of equipment. “My concern is the damage to his web.” He indicated the transcom socket. “This will also need a replacement unit, one without weapons capability. Otherwise, the socket will spoil.” He tilted his helmet down to the admiral. “These problems could cause rancor.”

Bloodmark nodded. He spoke to the leader. “We’ll offer to renegotiate, so it doesn’t look as if we are trying to cheat on the terms.”

“Damn it,” Althor said. “Cheat who?”

Watching him, I had a feeling he knew. But I had no idea. One thing I had no doubt about, though: Bloodmark didn’t want to answer. It was a long moment before he turned back to Althor— and said:

“We’re selling you to Kryx Iquar.”

At first Althor didn’t react. He just stared at the admiral. Then, slowly, he sat down.

“Who is Kryx Iquar?” I asked.

Althor looked at me. “The Eubian Trade Minister.”

“Who are the Eubians?” I asked.

“We also call them Traders,” Bloodmark said.

My heart stuttered. “You’re giving Althor to them?"

“Not giving,” one of Althor’s guards said, turning her helmet toward me. “Trading. For more frigging wealth than the yearly gross product of the entire Allied Worlds.”

Althor was finally starting to react. “Ragnar, gods, why?" Bloodmark sat next to him and spoke more quietly, as if revealing the full extent of his betrayal allowed him to drop the defensiveness that had masked his guilt. “A fake Allied extremist group is claiming credit for your abduction. After the trade takes place, the Eubian ministry will announce they purchased you, and how. The Allieds will of course condemn the action. Apologies and disclaimers will proliferate. But the damage will be done.”

Althor stared at him. “That will destroy any hope of any alliance between our people and the Allieds.”

“Yes. It will.”.

“Ragnar, you’re going to start a war.”

“Actually, I’m trying to end one.”

“How? The Traders have the third Lock.” Althor swallowed. “They can use me as a Key. Once they have that, we lose our advantage over them.”

“Advantage?” Bloodmark snorted. “We have lived with four hundred and fifty years of hostilities. Every time it erupts into full-scale war, it devastates billions of lives.”

“You would rather the Traders conquer us?”

“Favorable terms are being arranged.” The admiral sighed. “Your family is flawed, Althor. I’ve seen firsthand what it does to hold a handful of humans responsible for such a crucial portion of our defense. Even if your family were the epitome of human perfection, it would destroy you. Shall we draw this out in a long, bloody war? Better to cut our losses now. I learned long ago when to order a retreat.”

“How can you believe that?” Althor asked. “We’ve served the Net for five centuries. It’s growing stronger, not weaker. And with help from the Allieds, we’ll have a chance of recovering the third Lock.”

“The net is growing,” Bloodmark said. “Bigger and stronger are not the same. Even with three Keys, the job of powering and maintaining it was almost impossible. Now, with just your mother and ybur uncle, it’s killing them. How much longer can this continue? The psibernet will collapse; not today, not tomorrow, but soon.”

Althor’s fists clenched behind his back. “You want to be on the side you think will win.”,When Bloodmark didn’t answer, Althor said, “You’re a fool. The Traders don’t want ‘terms.’ They want to own the Imperialate and Allied Worlds. Period.”

“ ‘Own’ is a relative term. Most Trader subjects live comfortable lives.” Bloodmark stood up. “And when the Imperialate becomes part of the Concord, a select few of us will have a more—honored status.' The freedom to pick and choose from among choicer options.”

I could guess where Bloodmark was going: Althor’s mother was the choicest “option” of all. I don’t think Althor saw it then; he was too close to the situation. But he understood the rest of what Bloodmark meant. He spoke in a cold voice. “What you mean is the freedom to own people.” When the admiral didn’t answer, Althor said, “Did it ever occur to you that our citizens don’t want this choice you plan to make for them?”

“It has already been made.” Bloodmark spoke more gently. “If it helps any to know—we intended your Jag to explode when you reinverted on approach to Earth. The group that supposedly arranged your kidnapping would have claimed credit for the destruction. We had doubts this was as effective as an arrangement with Kryx Iquar, the other option we laid the groundwork for. And it certainly wasn’t as lucrative, to put it mildly.” He paused. “But it had the advantage of not requiring we hand you over to the Traders.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Althor asked. Bloodmark sighed. “Althor, I would have preferred it be someone else in your family. But you are, I am afraid, the least-well-guarded member of the Rhon.”

Althor just turned his head away. Bloodmark watched him, then walked back to the mercenary leader. “Contact Iquar’s people. Inform them of the damage to Commander Selei and renegotiate the deal. The damage is relatively minor. Allow only correspondingly minor changes in the agreement.”

“What if they won’t go with that?” the leader asked.

“They will,” Bloodmark said. “They want him. But be careful. I want no rancor.”

“Understood.”

‘And kill the girl,” Bloodmark said. “She’s seen too much.”

“No!” Althor stood up. “She won’t try to escape.”

“Contact my ship when you’ve settled on terms,” Bloodmark told the leader.

“Yes, sir.”

Bloodmark headed for the airlock, where his bodyguard waited. I stared at him, feeling sick, unable to absorb the full import of his words.

“Ragnar!” Althor’s composure dissolved. “Gods, man, don’t do this to her.”

Bloodmark paused in the airlock, still facing away from Althor. After a moment he glanced at the leader. “Let her stay with him until we return.”

Then he left.

I closed my eyes, aware only of my heart pounding. An armored hand touched my elbow. As I opened my eyes, a mercenary nudged me froward. A slab of stone opened outward from the wall, revealing a stone hallway.

They led us through a maze of marble tunnels. Our trip ended in a bare room that looked like the interior of a seamless polished box. After the waroids returned to the hall, beyond Althor’s reach, the leader stood in the doorway, his armor reflecting the walls, black with red veins. He spoke in his language and lights flickered on the mesh that bound Althor’s wrists. Gathering itself back into a cord, it whisked off Althor. It sped across the floor to the leader as he opened a compartment in his armor, then climbed up his body and snapped into the compartment.

“You have several hours before we leave,” the leader said. “You can stay with your wife until then.” He stepped back and the wall closed.

Althor just stood there, rubbing his wrists, staring at the smooth wall. Then he drew me into an embrace. “Gods, Tina. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you got pulled into this.”

I hugged him around the waist, my face buried against his chest. As he bent his head over mine, a pressure pushed against my mind.

Tina?

Louder
, I thought.
I can barely hear you
.

We are sure to be monitored in here
. His thought faded… .
musn’t find out… only Stonehedge knows… treaty…your Kyle rating? I don’t understand…

It’s the Jag
. I tried to shout the thought.
It did something to me
.

Althor tilted up my head so that I was looking into his face, but I still picked up nothing. He kissed me, bringing us even closer together…
yyo te amo. ’Akushtina
.

“And I you,” I whispered.
Te amo. I love you
.

His voice caught. “As long as we both shall live.”

15
The Cylinder

Our cell was exactly what it looked like: a hollow cube with no exits, at least not any we could find. So we sat against one wall, arms wrapped around each other, staring into the empty interior of the cube.

After a while, I said, “I’m sorry about Bloodmark.”

Althor swallowed. “So am I.”

“What he said—about rebuilding you…”

“It’s true. In fact, he underplayed it.”

“It’s incredible. You’re beautiful.”

It was a moment before he answered. “I’ve never lost the sense I formed in my childhood, that my body is hideous.” He hesitated. “Does it bother you?”

I looked up at him. “No.”

He touched my cheek. “I still carry the genes. If I have children with a woman who carries the same alleles, they could be born like me. Or worse. At least my brain was intact.”

“Then you should have children with someone who doesn’t carry them.”

His voice caught. “Like you.”

I laid my head against his chest. “I don’t want to die.”

“Gods, Tina, I wish they would take me in your place.”

“I don’t want you to die, either.”

“Nor I.” We sat silent then, out of words, staring at nothing. Some time later I became aware of his body shaking. I looked up and saw tears running down his face. “Althor—” I touched the wetness on his face.

He spoke softly. “I loved him like a father.”

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