fortuneswheel (26 page)

* * *

Kusac made his way back to the medical area. Kaid was where he'd left him. "It's getting late, Kaid," he said. "Can you organize security so you and the other two get some sleep?"
"I'll see it's done, Liegen."
Kusac nodded and rejoined Vanna.
"You were correct about something happening," said Vanna, watching the results of the brain scan she was running on Carrie.
"What can you see?" asked Kusac.
"I don't know what I'm looking at, Kusac, let alone looking for. This isn't standard medical information I'm getting, it's something totally new. Increased electrical activity, but nothing that seems to be causing any harm— no fits or convulsions, I mean. You tell me what we're seeing," she said, waving her hand toward the monitor's readings.
"I can't understand those things, I can't even sense what's happening," Kusac said helplessly. "I'm afraid for her, for myself."
He leaned over the cover of the IC unit, touching Carrie's face, his hand dark against the pallor of her skin. "She looks so fragile, doesn't she?" he said softly, moving his hand to stroke her forehead as he glanced up at Vanna.
She looked away quickly. It wasn't good for her to see his emotions so easily in his eyes. "It's time for your tests now," she said, moving over to the other unit a few meters away.
Kusac sighed, turning away from his Leska. "I shouldn't be doing this to you, Vanna," he said, stopping briefly beside her and putting his hand on her shoulder. "I know it isn't easy for you to be so closely involved with us, but I have no option: you're the only person I would trust with our lives."
"Kusac, stop being foolish and get into the other unit," she said, trying to divert his attention away from her.
He went over to the unit, stripping off his clothes and handing them to Vanna. As he settled himself down into the soft foam, he realized Jack was missing.
"Where's Jack?" he asked as Vanna pulled the cover over him.
"He's off getting his first telepathic imprint," she replied, checking the panels before swinging over the other brain scan unit.
"That as well?" he asked, nodding toward the device.
"I want to watch both of you for a comparison," she said, adjusting the position of his head. "Now keep still, or I'll have to sedate you," she threatened as he continued to turn his head.
"What tests are you doing?"
"Don't worry, you won't even be aware of them," she said, lowering the top half of the scanner to about a foot above his head. "I've programmed the body unit to take blood and skin cell samples so I can check your endocrine systems. I'm looking for any alterations in your hormone levels and DNA structure. Since both of you were affected by what appeared to be Carrie's shape-changing debut, I want to make sure that there aren't any other permanent changes in either of you, beyond the shape of her pupils."
"Have you any idea yet why her eyes changed?"
"None, but I have ascertained that they are fully functioning eyes. She can see in the same range as us now. The color of her irises has altered slightly. Where they were brown before, now there is a narrow amber ring around the pupil," said Vanna, pressing a series of buttons on her side of the unit. She watched an ultrasound scan appear on the recessed screen. "You'll be pleased to know that internally everything is as it should be."
"And Carrie?"
"Carrie, too. I told you, the only obvious physical difference is that she now has eyes like us. I have to leave you now, I've got work to do. Try and rest," she said.

* * *

Maikoe liked to have the scouter's engines up and running before take off, especially when her shift started during the Keissian night. She ran through the checks as the rest of the crew boarded. Everything came up green, not that she expected anything else, but Kaedoe's paranoia was catching.
They were using four-person crews now. Shifts were shorter, only six hours, so there was no need for on— and offduty personnel. They could take their breaks at their controls, they'd done it before.
She turned as the last person boarded. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Chyad! What the hell are you doing on my shift!" she hissed as he made his way over to her.
"I swapped shifts. Kaedoe's dead," he said quietly. "I think our days are numbered."
"Gods! What happened to him?"
"He was found dead inside the smoke bar."
"But that was closed down after Jakule's death!"
"I know. Security were investigating a reported break-in at the place and found his body."
"How was he killed?"
"Knifed. They reckon he was collecting drugs and had an argument with the dealer."
"I didn't know he used illegal drugs," she said, reluctant to believe him.
"Come off it, Maikoe! Don't be so naive. You know damned well Kaedoe never touched the stuff! There's only you and me left now."
"What the hell are we going to do?"
"Can you make it look like we've got engine trouble or something and ditch this craft on the planet? I think our only chance of survival is to lose ourselves on this mud ball."
"I can do it, but the others will tell them we've gone."
"Not if they've been killed in the crash," said Chyad grimly. "If we destroy the scouter, they'll never know we didn't go up with it, too."
"We can't kill them, Chyad!" she hissed, appalled at the idea.
"Don't get squeamish on me, Maikoe," said Chyad noticing her ears were folding over in distress. "You were prepared to kill the telepath and his Leska, what's different about killing these two?"
"Scouter four one, clear for take off," said the communicator.
"Get back with the others," said Maikoe. "We've got to leave."
Chyad gripped her shoulder, his claws puncturing through her uniform into her flesh. "Just remember to fake a crash. I've no intention of dying if I can avoid it," he growled in her ear before releasing her and heading for his post.
They were scheduled to do low sweeps of Keiss over the mountainous terrain around the village of Hillfort. They were on the watch for stray Valtegans. Sholan High Command was desperate to capture as many alive as possible. Those stranded on the planet had either mounted suicide attacks or died within hours of capture. None had survived long enough to be fully interrogated.
Their shift was nearly at an end when suddenly the craft began to weave about alarmingly.
"What's wrong?" demanded the navigator as he fumbled for his safety harness.
"One engine's gone off-line," said Maikoe as she struggled to right the craft. "I'm losing altitude!"
The scouter dipped toward the ground, beginning to roll as it lost stability. Maikoe pulled at the controls as the trees loomed in front of them.
"Gods! We're going to crash," muttered a voice from behind.
"Hang on," yelled Maikoe. "We're going down!"
The scouter skimmed across the treetops, the interior of the craft echoing to the sound of the hull being scraped and banged by branches. Suddenly the craft somersaulted, diving down into the trees, heading straight for the ground. There was no time to react as the craft ripped its way through the branches, ploughing nose first toward the forest floor.

* * *

Tallinu came round first, looking groggily about the craft for survivors. Up front he could see Maikoe was dead. A massive branch had penetrated the view screen, forcing its way past the pilot into the main cabin area. He was lucky. It had missed killing him by only a few feet.
To the rear, the navigator's seat was empty. He must have been flung out of it by the force of their impact. To the other side of navigation, Chyad lay in his seat, blood running down the side of his head. As he looked, the male moaned softly. Only injured, then. He reached for his gun and found it missing. He cursed softly, realizing it must have been jarred loose in the crash. He had to get free before Chyad came round.
The scouter was lying canted on one side with the rear end held clear of the ground. The floor under him sloped down toward where the tangle of the tree had breached the front. He looked down for the release on his harness and stopped. A sliver of wood pinned his thigh to the seat. Blood had matted the surrounding fur: obviously he'd been unconscious for some time.
He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally beginning the litany that banished pain. Taking hold of the end of the sliver, he gritted his teeth and pulled. Despite himself, an involuntary groan escaped his lips. Fresh blood began to ooze out, glistening wetly on his fur. He looked around for something to act as a bandage, then saw that Chyad was beginning to stir. He was running out of time.
Pressing open the seal on the front of his uniform, he drew out his knife and stabbed it into the fabric of the seat. Ripping a strip free, he quickly bound his thigh above the injury. It would slow the blood for now. With any luck there was already a craft on the way to check for survivors. He glanced at Chyad again, gauging the distance. Reluctantly he returned the knife to its sheath. At this angle he had no chance of hitting him.
Wrapping one arm through the armrest, he reached for the fastening on his harness and pressed. It flew open, releasing him with a jerk that almost tore his arm from its socket. He swung round against the side of the chair, legs dangling in midair.
The floor of the scouter was smooth, no hand or footholds there. If he let go, there was every chance he would impale himself on the tree beneath him. He heard a sound from above. Chyad. Praying to Vartra, he let go, his hands and feet scrabbling desperately for a hold as he fell. He crashed through the foliage, small branches whipping him in the face as he fell. His hands grabbed for them, but they gave under his weight. Then his fingers closed on a thicker branch and he came to an abrupt stop, fresh agony lancing through his already bruised shoulder joint. He clung there breathing hard, trying to lift his other arm up to secure his hold. At last his claws caught and he managed to haul himself up just enough to wrap his arms around it.
His feet had touched something firm beneath him. Reaching down with his toes he felt to see what it was. There was a broad branch just below. He tried to peer down, but the loss of blood and the pain were beginning to take their toll, and his head began to swim.
From above he could hear Chyad moving about. Looking up, he realized the other male could release himself and land on the back of one of the seats in front. After that he faced the same problems in getting down to the tree. As he watched, Chyad left his seat abruptly, managing to land where he'd predicted.
"What a pity," said Chyad cynically, looking down at him. "All that effort for nothing." He drew an energy pistol from inside his jacket and aimed. "I just can't let there be any other survivors."
Tallinu let go, landing in a crouch on the branch below. His thigh buckled under his weight, almost pitching him forward off the branch. The energy bolt hissed past him, sending the smell of burning greenery wafting up to his nose. Clutching the branch with his hands, he swung himself down, grunting in pain as he took his weight yet again on his arms.
The nose of the craft was only a few meters below him now and he let go, landing in a heap against the pilot's console. The smell of blood was strong, its taste metallic in his mouth. The hatch was beside him and with a swift prayer, he thumped the release mechanism, dodging aside as another bolt of energy hissed downward.
"There's no use hiding, I can see you." Chyad's voice drifted down from above.
The door remained closed. Reaching for the manual lever, he pulled hard. Slowly the hatch began to slide open. From above came the sound of Chyad crashing down through the tree.
Fumbling in his jacket, he pulled out a small device from the inside pocket. Pressing the button set in the top, he lobbed it toward the bodies of Maikoe and the navigator, then dived through the gap.
He hit the ground hard but managed to roll clear of the hatchway, fetching up against the trunk of a tree. Pushing himself to his feet, he grabbed the trunk for support and began to lurch away from the scouter. Once again his leg buckled under him, throwing him to the ground. Cursing, he rose in a three-legged stance, keeping his injured leg free of the ground. His shoulders felt as if knives were piercing them, but he lurched on. He had to get out of range or he was dead, too.
Every painful step seemed to take an eternity as the seconds raced by. Then a blast of heated air lifted him high, hurling him through the trees till, with a sickening thump, he came to a halt. Daylight dimmed around him and his last coherent thought was that this hadn't been one of his better jobs.

* * *

Kusac was emotionally exhausted by the events of the last few hours, and sleep quickly claimed him despite his fears.
Mid-morning ship time he was jerked violently awake seconds before every alarm on both their units went into alert.
"Vanna, get me out of this contraption," he yelled, straining against the inside of the unit although he knew it was useless. He could sense Carrie again. She had come out of unconsciousness. Her mind was caught in some nightmare, broadcasting waves of fear and terror.
The warning tones dinned in his ears, adding to his urgency. "Turn that damned racket off!" he yelled.
Jack ran over to him, fumbling with the latches while Vanna bent over Carrie, checking her for physical signs of distress. One of the nurses ran to switch off the alarms and silence returned.
"Don't touch her, Vanna," Kusac said frantically, rolling off the bed as Jack finally got his cover free.
"Help me get the lid off!" he said, his hands flying over the catches on his side. As he finished, Vanna pushed the lid back out of the way.
"I need a chair," he said, gently slipping his arms under Carrie and lifting her.
Jack brought one over, placing it behind him.
Kusac sat down, adjusting his hold on her till she was cradled in his arms like a small child.
Vanna held out a blanket. He frowned, looking at it.
"Without fur, she'll feel the cold more than us," she reminded him.
He took the blanket, draping it across her. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on hers. There was no need for even a slight adjustment now; their rhythms were perfectly synchromeshed, and he had no difficulty in reaching her dream world.
She was still reliving the scene with her father at the reception. Kusac found the looped thoughts, parted them, and gradually brought her anger and panic under control until she was breathing gently again.
He rested a moment before opening his eyes. It felt good to hold her again after seeing her locked in the IC unit beyond his help. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, breathing in her scent as he felt the familiar pull of their Link. In his arms she began to rouse.
"How is she?" asked Vanna.
"She's fine. Only a nightmare, nothing more," he murmured, letting the hypersensitivity wash through him. This time it was different. Now there was an anticipation that had been lacking before. He felt relaxed yet alert to the feel of her body against his. She moved, unconsciously curling up closer to him.
"Kusac," said Vanna, bringing his attention back to her. "I've got a room ready next door for you. I think you'd better take her there. When you feel up to it, you can return to your suite."
Kusac nodded slowly, disinclined to move.
Vanna leaned forward to touch him, then flinched as the sensations coursing through him hit her. It jolted Kusac out of his dreamy state, making him fully aware of what was happening.
"I'm sorry," he said, getting carefully to his feet as Carrie began to move again in his arms. "With everything that's happened I forgot what day it was. I didn't expect our Link to affect me like this."
"Forget it," said Vanna, tucking her hands under her armpits. "Just take her into the other room now before she wakes. I'll check up on you in a few hours. There's a food dispenser and a communicator by the bed if you need anything."
Vanna watched them leave, trying to forget the sudden surge of heightened sexuality she had felt from Kusac, and the answering one from Carrie.
"What's up?" asked Jack as she went back to the desk where they were correlating the data they'd collected from the tests. "Where's he taking her?"
"To a private room next door," she said. "It's their Link day, they need the next twenty-six hours to themselves."
"Ah, yes. Kusac mentioned it to me yesterday," said Jack. "Their Link is really that demanding?"
"You've read the files," she said curtly, sitting down beside him. "Yes, it's that demanding."
"Excuse me, Physician Kyjishi," said Draz, standing at the door. "Clan Leader Aldatan wishes to see you."
"Tell her she can come in, Draz."
"What are you going to tell her?" asked Jack.
"The truth about their endocrine levels."
"And your suspicions over the genetic changes?"
"Nothing till I have proof," she said, gathering her papers together and putting them in her drawer out of sight. "It might never happen." She stood up as Kusac's mother entered.
"I wanted to see you on your own, Vanna," she said, coming over to her desk. "I'm aware my son and his Leska have other matters to attend to," she said with a faint smile, "so I know they won't be aware of our discussion." She nodded to the Terran doctor.
Jack had gotten up as she arrived and now placed a chair at the other side of the desk for her.
"Thank you," she said, sitting down. "Do you know yet why Carrie changed shape?"
"I'm afraid I have no idea, Clan Leader," said Vanna, resuming her seat. "I take it you've met Jack Reynolds, physician to Carrie's family on Keiss?"
"Under less than ideal circumstances," Rhyasha said. "Do either of you know why her eyes have altered?"
"I'm afraid we don't know that either."
"Then what have you found out?" asked Rhyasha, a touch of exasperation in her voice.
"Clan Leader, you have to understand that we are attempting to understand a completely unknown phenomenon here," said Vanna. "There has never been another telepathic species until now and the Terrans don't believe telepathy exists. Because of this, unlike us they have no body of knowledge about the mechanics of their people's Talents. I'm working blind here. The only people who have a chance of really understanding what's happening to them are your son and Carrie."
"Your pardon, Vanna, but I know all this," said Rhyasha. "You've been running tests, you told me so when I spoke to you an hour or two after this happened. What were the results?"
"They're both changing," Vanna said quietly.
"How?"
"Their endocrine systems are fluctuating."
"Explain it to me, please."
"The Sholan and Terran endocrine systems work on the same principle, but at different levels and proportions. Those levels in both of them are changing in relationship to each other. Carrie's system seems to be tending toward the Sholan balance, and Kusac's seems to be adjusting toward the Terran one," said Jack.
"Are you saying my son is becoming more Terran, and..." began Rhyasha, her ears flicking slightly despite her rigid self-control.
"No," interrupted Vanna. "Far from it. We aren't sure yet, but we think there is a trend toward a balance of levels between them. In other words, their systems will match."
"What effect will that have on them?"
"The endocrine system controls a lot of the body's functions," said Vanna. "It affects appetite, thirst, the body's ability to withstand heat and cold, and the ability to sleep amongst other things. They'll have a variety of symptoms including possible dizzy spells, headaches, feeling washed out and tired at the wrong times of day, and may be generally irritable, unable to cope with stress. Basically, adrenaline levels peak at different times for different people. It means their adrenaline and hormone levels will be in phase with each other. The worry is the fact that their systems are changing at all."
"Is this due to their mental Link?" asked Rhyasha.
"Almost definitely. We've no idea what can happen when two different minds blend so completely as theirs have. Like them, all we can do is wait and see while we record what's happening."
"Do you plan to do nothing at all?" asked Rhyasha.
"I don't want to treat them with drugs because I have a feeling this is a process that must be allowed to run its course. We daren't interfere," said Vanna.
"We'll monitor them both to see when these endocrine changes level out, and to make sure that nothing else is happening. Apart from that, I'm afraid there is little we can do," said Jack.
Rhyasha sat and digested this. "What you're saying is that my son and his Leska will feel alert or tired at the same time of day."
"Essentially, yes," said Vanna. "Nothing more dramatic than that."
Rhyasha nodded. "Then there is nothing to worry about."
"Nothing that we can see," agreed Vanna.
"Apart from the change in Carrie's eyes."
"Clan Leader, Carrie can heal. Not every time, but sometimes. I think like you that she identified so much with Kusac that for an instant she appeared Sholan. She can make tissue regenerate, I've seen her do it. Perhaps she used this Talent to change her eyes. Who knows? Probably not even Carrie. It's one of those things about which we may never find an answer."
"Thank you, Vanna, you've set my mind at rest. Now I must go. I intend to remain on board the
Khalossa
for some days to continue the treaty negotiations here rather than planetside on Keiss. If there is any more news, please make sure I'm informed." Rhyasha stood up and took her leave of them.