Redemption of Light (The Light Trilogy) (30 page)

“Yes,” he answered honestly. “I would. Because he can’t do it, Rachel. Nathan
cannot
bring about the New Yerushalaim!”

“You don’t know that!” she raged. “You can’t know it! If we—”

“Rachel, listen to me! If you and I succeed, maybe—maybe!—
we
can bring about the New Yerushalaim!” He put a hand into the warm sand and pushed up to stand face-to-face with her. Her jade robe buffeted around her legs. “But not Nathan by himself. It’s too complicated!
Think about this!
Wherever you left him, Nathan has already had enough time to have thrown a spark into the fabric of Creation. Your rash action may have killed even
our
chances of creating the New Yerushalaim!”

CHAPTER 30

Jason Woloc walked briskly down the long white hall on level six, heading toward the hospital. Turned low for nighttime, the lights gleamed with the strength of moonglow, reflecting eerily in the silver bulkheads. At each intersecting corridor, chronometers flashed the hour in blue. He crisply turned left and waded through a group of off-duty officers. He heard scraps of conversations—someone cursed the ragtag brigade of Gamants on Ingle 7 who’d managed to corner three thousand Magisterial soldiers; someone else blamed the event on the Magistrates’ hard-line policy against dissidents. An argument arose. Jason noted the woman who defended the Gamants; Lis Sherwood, sergeant in the security division. He made a mental note to discuss the issue with her. She clearly needed some guidance about governmental reasons for using force.

Ahead, at the end of the hall, were the broad double doors of the hospital. Jason growled softly, angry at the problem he faced. When he’d tranned Slothen just after retrieving Mikael and Sybil Calas to tell the Magistrate that Captain Jossel was still unaccounted for and no demand for ransom had yet been tendered, Slothen had been patently unconcerned. The Magistrate had promised to take Amirah’s predicament into consideration as soon as possible, but he wanted Mikael Calas now. Slothen had specifically demanded that Jason relieve Calas of the
“special necklace he wears around his neck.”
The device, a small gray ball on a thick golden chain, now rested in Jason’s cabin.

All the bizarre orders made his gut ache. He’d never been good at grasping the undercurrents that stirred galactic politics. If only Amirah were here, she’d understand. Yes, she had a knack….
Think about her later, not now.

He strode headlong through the double doors and into the broad rectangular room, perfunctorily returning the salutes of the armed security personnel stationed at every exit. The hospital spread fifty by a hundred feet. Beds lined the walls, but only one held a patient—Sybil Calas. Locked in a silver med unit, her brown hair twisted in luxurious curls across her pillow. Beside the bed, her husband and Doctor York Hilberg stood, talking pensively. Hilberg glanced up as he saw Jason enter the hospital. A small slump-shouldered man with a bald head and a flat nose, he had brown eyes that most people described unflatteringly as “beady.”

“Lieutenant,” Hilberg greeted. “Our patient is doing well.”

Jason glanced at Sybil Calas’ sleeping face and nodded. An attractive young woman. “It’s a lung wound, I heard.”

“Yes. She’d lost a lot of blood, but we have her count almost back to normal now. She’s lucky to be here. On Horeb it would have taken her months to heal—if at all. With our tissue regrowth equipment, she should be back to normal in a couple of days.

“Good. Do your best for her, Doctor.”

Jason turned to Mikael Calas. Twenty, with jet black hair and a black beard, he had the sort of eyes that made men flinch—sharp as a hawk’s, hate-filled. Someone had given him a tan jumpsuit to wear; it heightened the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his muscular waist. Jason addressed the boy respectfully. “Leader Calas, may we talk? There are some questions regarding your apprehension on the planet that remain to be resolved.”

Calas tenderly stroked his wife’s hair before stepping away from the bed to follow Jason across the room to a table and four chairs. Calas tiredly took a seat and Jason eased down across from him. The boy’s meticulous gaze seemed to take in everything, the size of the room, the number of guards, Jason’s damp uniform, calculating his chances to the nth degree, no doubt.

“What is it you want to know, Lieutenant?” Calas asked coolly.

“First, let me inform you that you are considered to be a prisoner of war. You do not have to answer any questions unless you want to. However, be aware that the Magistrates will view your cooperation very favorably. It might lessen the severity of what awaits you on Palaia.”

Calas chuckled disparagingly. “Lieutenant, please. I know Slothen. I spent eight months under his probes at Palaia when I was seven years old. Nothing will lessen the severity of what he has planned for me. Whatever information he wants, he’ll get in the fastest way he can—probably through torture—so let’s not play games. What do you want?”

Jason braced his elbows on the table and laced his fingers. Torture? Calas was obviously unaware of Palaia’s sophisticated probe facilities. Torture was utilized only in rare circumstances now—usually with primitive alien species who had no recognizable neuro systems. “Where is Governor Ornias? We were unable to locate him.”

Calas’ dark eyes glittered. “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t kill him?”

“No.”

“Is it possible that your forces kidnapped him? We were also unable to find the Minister of Defense, Fenris Midgard. We assumed they might be together. Captured or in hiding.”

Calas lifted a shoulder. “I can’t tell you. Governor Ornias devastated my forces. His marines came into our polar chambers and indiscriminately killed men, women, and children. He broke every stipulation in the Treaty of Lysomia, Lieutenant.” Calas paused and his hard eyes narrowed. “I’d assumed he did that at
your
command, or your captain’s.”

“My captain was ordered to assist the governor in any way necessary to apprehend you, Leader, including providing additional ground troops—but no one was authorized to break the law.” Jason paused, nervously pleating his sleeve—at least not that he was aware of. Wouldn’t Amirah have told him if such unusual orders had come down? “We’re also curious about your child, Leader. It’s obvious that your wife gave birth quite recently. Where is the baby?”

“I don’t know that either.” A tight expression came over his young face, as though the images in his mind horrified him.

“Leader, the events of the past few days are very confusing. If your child has been captured or taken hostage by hostile forces, please let us help you get him back. The Magistrates will certainly want to—”

“I don’t know what’s happened to my son, Lieutenant.”

Jason gritted his teeth. Was the boy going to be no help at all? He looked up harshly. Calas’ dark eyes gleamed defiantly in return. How could someone so young look so old and fierce? Had he seen so much terror in his short life? “I see. Well, on another front, then, are you aware that our captain, Amirah Jossel, was taken hostage by terrorist forces on your planet?”

Calas shook his head. “No.”

“Could you tell me what forces might have been responsible?”

“No. My forces certainly weren’t, and I know of no other organized resistance efforts on Horeb.”

Jason relaced his fingers and conscientiously scrutinized the two guards who laughed quietly near the door. “I wish you’d be more cooperative, Leader. We can’t afford—”

“Lieutenant,” Calas sighed gruffly and shifted in his chair to fold his arms. “Has it occurred to you that Ornias’ forces may have been responsible for your captain’s disappearance?”

Shocked, Jason stammered, “Wh-why would you suggest that?”

“Because it’s exactly the sort of thing he’d do. If he thought he could gain some advantage from kidnapping Jossel, he’d surely have done it and blamed it on me.”

“What evidence do you have to suggest something so—”

“Look,” Calas held up a hand for silence. “I know of several ministers sent to Horeb by Slothen to keep an eye on Ornias who mysteriously vanished. Major Winfeld, Colonel Vahr, and even, I suspect, Midgard. They each undoubtedly stumbled onto one of Ornias’ nefarious activities and he eliminated them before they could report on it. What you have to determine is whether Ornias could have benefited by capturing Jossel. If so, you’d better turn this ship around and go hunt through all of the governor’s secret passageways.”

The hair at the back of Jason’s neck prickled. He’d read some of the Clandestine One orders Amirah had received regarding Horeb, though they were sent under “Captain’s Eyes Only” clearance. She usually showed him such things because she trusted him. She trusted him…. Slothen’s orders had stated that Ornias be removed and returned to Palaia for disciplinary action if he couldn’t capture Calas,
“or if in the opinion of the captain, the corruption of the governor’s administration warrants such measures.”
Though certainly Amirah wouldn’t have mentioned the latter to Ornias. Would she?

Jason’s palms had started to sweat. He pulled them off the table and wiped them on his pants. If she had told Ornias, what would he have done? Ordered his forces to apprehend Calas no matter the cost and then disappeared with Amirali—holding her as his ace in the hole in case his marines failed? The pieces fit together too damned neatly. Maybe that’s why the terrorist signals seemed to come from so many places. They’d been sent from Horeb, probably in some secret underground passageway, just as Calas suggested. The beam would have bounced off every rock face.

“Leader, do you know the locations of any of those secret hiding places?”

Calas nodded calmly. “All of them, I think.”

“Could you provide me with maps?”

“Maybe.” Calas tipped his chair back on two legs and his dark brows lowered. He looked like a wolf on a blood trail. “If you can pay the price.”

Jason sucked in a breath, expecting the worst. “Leader, surely you’re aware that with our probe facilities, we can gain the information anyway. It would just be quicker and easier on all of us if you—”

“The probes don’t work on me, Lieutenant. Perhaps you’d better check your files more thoroughly. When I was seven, Slothen threw every barrage of probe equipment at me that he had.” His gaze drifted over the ceiling panels and finally landed on his wife. A brief expression of grief creased his features. “The doctors at the time speculated that I had some peculiar ability to selectively seal off parts of my brain.”

“How?”

“By shutting down the production of neurotransmitters to the sections they were probing.” Calas smiled grimly, triumphantly, as though truly amused by the fact.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. If true, it was an amazing talent. The probes depended upon the presence of neurotransmitters to get an accurate electrochemical analysis of neural circuitry. Without the normal transmitter environment, the probes read only a jumbled muddle. Some humans had learned this fact and could hinder the probes by willfully drenching the brain in other chemicals, particularly those created by strong emotions. But it was, at best, a delaying tactic. Eventually the emotional outbursts exhausted the patient and the probes proceeded.
Whether Calas really has the talent he claims is irrelevant. He’ll be a hard case under the probes and Amirah may not have the weeks it will take to break him.

Jason’s blond brows drew together. “What’s your price, Calas? What can I give you to secure your help in this matter?”

Calas stared hard at Jason, his dark eyes flashing. “I want a guarantee from you. When we get to Palaia, I don’t care what you do with me, but I want my wife safe. I know there’s a small community of Gamants from Horeb on Satellite 10. Some of Sybil’s childhood friends are incarcerated there. Send her there
without being probed first.
”

Jason drummed his fingers on his leg while he thought. Slothen might go for it. The Magistrate had only requested that Mikael Calas be delivered anyway. Sybil’s knowledge might be considered redundant. “We are currently in vault, Leader. I’ll have to exit to contact the Magistrates for permission to accede to your demands.”
The Magistrates will probably court-martial me for doing it, but if they agree to the deal I can transmit Calas’ maps to Williamson and he can immediately begin searching that area for Amirah.

“How long will that take?”

“I’ll initiate an exit sequence immediately. We should have an answer within the hour.” Jason reached for the com unit on the far side of the table. He input the bridge access. Orah Pirke’s face formed, red hair framing his pale cheeks. “Lieutenant Pirke, I have some critical information that must be transmitted to the Magistrates. Please initiate vault exit.”

Orah frowned disbelievingly. “But, sir, Slothen said he wanted Calas delivered immed—”

“I’m well aware of that, Lieutenant. We’ll only exit for a short time, then we’ll be on our way again.”

“Aye, sir.” Pirke nodded stiffly. “I’m initiating the sequence.”

“Thank you, Orah. Let me know when you’ve opened a tran to the Magistrates.”

He cut the connection, and looked back at Mikael Calas. The youth’s eyes had narrowed, waiting. His face relaxed slightly when he felt the gentle lurch of the ship as it fell through the vault exit membrane.

Jason felt light-headed with anticipation as he stood. Calas stood, too. Jason extended a hand and Mikael warily reached out to take it in a strong grasp.

“Thank you for talking with me so honestly, sir,” Jason said. “I’ll let you know the outcome of our dattran as soon as …”

He stopped, dropping Calas’ hand as Sergeant Qery raced into the room practically bowling over the two security guards at the door. A minor din broke out as Qery shoved past them to run headlong across the room.

Jason strode to meet Qery halfway. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Qery saluted quickly. A tall wraith with blond hair, he had huge freckles across his face. “We don’t know what happened, sir. Apparently we picked up two stowaways in one of our shuttles that set down on Horeb. They’re in Engineering now, holding Chief Engineer Rad and two of his staff hostage.”