The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga (22 page)

“Here,”
Hunt said finally from several yards away.  “She’s here.”  He began digging and Vikter
and Lance joined him, flinging large stones and beams of wood away with their gigantic
paws.  Vikter realized that several other male-sets were arriving, trying to figure
out what had happened, beginning to look for survivors, but all he cared about was
Honey.

After several minutes Hunt told them to stop, and they did, though reluctantly. 
“She’s right under here,”
he said. 
“I think we need to shift.  I’m afraid if we’re not careful, we’ll send the rest of
this rubble down on top of her.”

“Is she alive?”
Lance asked.

“Yes,”
Vikter said. 
“I can feel her.  She’s unconscious, but I feel her.”

“Yes, I can too,”
Lance said after a moment. 

The three of them transformed back into their humanoid forms and began lifting away
the remainder of the rubble covering their Arima.  They discovered, much to their
relief and surprise, that she had somehow managed to crawl partway beneath a heavy
metal desk. 

Vikter lifted her out from beneath it, and the three of them crowded closely around
her.  She was alive, that was the most important thing.  Once they were certain of
that, Vikter cradled her close against his body and climbed out of the remains of
the infirmary, down to the ground where a crowd of people was waiting.  Vikter saw
a dozen Clan Jasani in both their humanoid form and their alter-forms crawling through
the destruction, searching for survivors.  He thought of the Xanti prisoner and discarded
the thought.  At the moment, he could not make himself care about anything or anyone
other than Honey.

Doc hurried toward them, carrying his medical bag, his face white with worry and anger. 
“How is she, Vikter?” he demanded.  “Is she alive?”

Vikter nodded, unable to speak. 

“Follow me,” Doc said, then turned and hurried toward a grassy area free of debris. 
“Put her down.”

Vikter hesitated, then did as Doc said, kneeling on the grass beside her.  Doc knelt
on the other side of her and began checking her carefully.  He opened the medical
bag and began rummaging around.

“She’s got a broken wrist, broken ankle, and too many cuts to count though only a
couple of them are deep.  The head injury is the most worrisome.”

Doc put inflatable splints around Honey’s wrist and ankle, then cleaned the worst
of the cuts before wrapping them lightly.  He put a bandage over the wound on her
head, just enough to keep further dust and dirt from entering it.

“Take her to the little clinic up next to the Lobos’ house,” he said when he was finished. 
“You know where that is?”

“Yes, we know,” Lance said.  “Where’s Jareth?”

“Nobody seems to know,” Doc said.  “He was supposed to meet me at the infirmary for
lunch about ten minutes after the explosion occurred.  I just hope he didn’t come
early.” 

Vikter’s jaw clenched tightly, but he said nothing.  Instead, he slid his arms beneath
Honey and lifted her once more, pulling her close. 

“Don’t worry,” Doc said, “Between the Dracons and the Falcorans, there’s enough Water
Magic to heal her head enough.  Maybe not fully, but enough.”

Vikter took a deep breath as he felt some of the tension in his muscles relax for
the first time since before the transport landed.  He nodded his thanks to Doc, not
trusting himself to speak.

“Is there anything we can help with down here, Doc?” Lance asked, not taking his eyes
from Honey.

“No, I don’t think so,” Doc said.  “There’s enough hands here now.  You three take
care of Honey.  We need her.”

Vikter nodded silently, then turned and began to walk away, Hunt and Lance close beside
him.  They’d walked completely around the bomb site and were heading across the field
away from the garrison when Garen, Trey and Val Dracon appeared in front of them. 

“Doc told us of her injuries,” Garen said.  “Let us speed-travel you up to the clinic.”

Vikter nodded his agreement.  Moments later they were all in Doc’s clinic beside the
Lobos’ house, the one he used for treating the residents of the ranch rather than
the general public.

“We’re going back to help,” Garen said.  “You three stay here, keep an eye on your
Arima.  Vox us if her condition changes.”

Vikter bowed to Garen, but Garen ignored the bow and stepped forward, placing his
hands on Vikter’s shoulders. 

“Consul Vikter,” he said.  “Hear me.”

Vikter looked into his Prince’s eyes.  “You are in shock,” Garen said.  “It is understandable,
but you must try to get hold of yourselves.  You have our word, all that can be done
for Honey, will be done.”

“Thank you, Prince Garen,” Vikter said hoarsely.  Garen patted him encouragingly
on the shoulder, then stepped back.  A moment later, the Dracons turned sideways and
disappeared. 

The Vulpirans stood around the exam table where Honey now lay, staring at her for
a long time.  Then Vikter seemed to shake himself.

“Lance, Hunt, find some clean towels, would you?” he said.  “I’ll find a basin and
some soap.  The least we can do is clean her up a little.  That will make her feel
better when she wakes up.”

Lance and Hunt went in search of towels, happy to have something to do.  Vikter began
removing the pins from Honey’s hair, then uncoiled the braid, surprised at how long
it was.  He debated for a moment before leaving the braid as it was.  He laid it over
her shoulder and down her side, then went in search of a basin.

By the time they had her as clean as they could manage without removing either her
clothing or the bandages Doc had applied, there were several more people in the clinic,
including the Bearens and Doc.  Jackson Bearen went straight to Vikter as soon as
he and his brothers arrived.

“How is she?” he asked.

“Alive,” Vikter said.  “We are assured she will recover.”

“Nica is fine,” Jackson said, assuming, correctly, that Vikter would be concerned
about the child. 

“Thank you, Jackson,” Vikter replied.  “We were worried, but didn’t want to leave
Honey.”

“She is well, and under our care,” Jackson said.  Vikter understood that the Bearens
had set extra guards around their family, including Nica. 

“What of Michael?” he asked.

“He was very helpful caring for the human victims pulled from the rubble,” Jackson
said.  “He is a scientist, but also a doctor with enough training that he was able
to assist Doc.”

Vikter nodded in approval.  “What are the casualties?”

“There were sixteen people in the Research Center,” Jackson said.  “Three male-sets,
five human workers, the Damosion, and Sergio Farnswaite.  And the Xanti of course. 
Of those, the Katre male-set on guard-duty at the Xanti’s cell were killed, as was
the Xanti, the Damosion, Farnswaite, and two lab assistants.  The receptionist at
the front desk was severely injured, as were the other two lab assistants.  Two Lobo
male-sets were badly burned, but have been Healed.”

“Jareth was found?” Vikter asked.

“Yes, thank the stars,” Jackson said.  “He arrived early for his meet with Doc, but
was outside when the explosion occurred.  He was knocked unconscious and covered in
debris.  He has some scratches and bruises, but nothing serious.  Without his help
we would have lost many more lives, both human and Jasani.”

Vikter nodded, understanding that Jareth probably didn’t have enough energy to heal
Honey right away.  They would have to wait for him to rest.  “Were there other people
inside the infirmary?”

“As far as we know right now, only Honey and Nurse Tesla were there,” Jackson replied. 
“Tesla did not survive.  Honey did.  Thankfully, the women that Honey was going to
examine were not due to arrive until afternoon, so there were no patients in the building.”

“Where is Michael now?” Lance asked.  “He should be informed of Honey’s condition.”

“He’s been told that she is alive, but injured, and is awaiting treatment,” Jackson
said.  “He decided that he would be of more use helping Doc at the site than here,
with her, since she is being cared for.”

Neither the Bearens nor the Vulpirans understood such thinking, and it bothered them,
though they tried to hide it.  It was not their business to judge Michael for his
actions regarding his wife. 

“He asked for directions on how to get here,” Jackson continued.  “After all of the
injured had been treated and moved, he returned to the guesthouse to clean up.  Then
he will come here.”

Vikter nodded, his mind beginning to work as his shock wore off.  “How long before
the Lobos retrieve the off-site security vids?” he asked.  Since the garrison was
on the Dracons’ ranch, every building was required to allow full internal surveillance
for security reasons.  With the growing number of families with children living on
the ranch, no one objected to it.  The images were transmitted in real time and stored
in a location known only to the Lord Protector himself, Faron Lobo.

“They’ve already collected them and are reviewing them now, with the Dracons,” Jackson
replied.  “They will come here when they are finished.”

“We had our own security measures within the Research Center as well,” Vikter said. 
“There’s a vaulted room where all of the data is sent.  It also contains our core
processors, the results of every test we performed on the Xanti, and the bio-suit.”

“I’m sorry, Vikter,” Jackson said. “I did not see anything standing as large as what
you describe.”

“You wouldn’t,” Vikter replied.  “It was beneath the ground.”

“In that case, I would say it probably survived,” Jackson said with a relieved smile. 
The loss of the living Xanti was a huge blow.  That the bio-suit may have been saved
was much needed good news.

Everyone turned to face the door as it opened, revealing Prince Garen, Prince Trey
and Prince Val.  Behind them were Faron, Dav, and Ban Lobo.  The Princes stood together
with the Lobos beside them, their faces grave as they waited for the room to quiet.

“We’ve reviewed the surveillance vids,” Garen said, getting right to the heart of
what everyone wanted to know.  “It shows the human man, Sergio Farnswaite, leaving
his cell and walking through the detention wing toward the Xanti’s cell.  There are
some oddities.  He appears to be walking strangely, and was sweating profusely though
the ambient temperature at the time was quite cool.  Also, his eyes were wide open,
staring straight ahead in every shot we could find that showed his face.  We cannot
be certain at this time, but we believe that he had a Controller, and was attempting
to fight it.

“He was confronted by the Katres on guard duty outside the Xanti’s cell, but he never
responded to their questions.  A moment later, the body of Sergio Farnswaite detonated
like a bomb.  How this was possible we do not yet know.  We will share the answer
to that question as soon as we have it.

“We believe that Sergio was implanted with a Controller when he was in the Xanti’s
possession,” Garen continued.  “The signs of an active Controller are obvious, and
he displayed none of them during the months he’s been here.  We speculate that, somehow,
his Controller was activated this morning, causing him to perform the actions we just
described.  Again, we have much investigating to do before we know anything for certain.”

“Excuse me, Prince Garen,” Vikter said, his body suddenly tense with the idea that
had just slammed into his mind.  “What time did Farnswaite leave his cell?”

Garen glanced at Trey, who nodded and answered the question.  “Ten forty-five.”

Vikter looked at Hunt, whose eyes widened in understanding.  “Yes, that’s exactly
right,” he said.

“We must bring Michael Davis here at once,” Vikter said.  As soon as the last word
left his lips, the door opened behind the Lobos and Michael stepped into the clinic. 

Michael froze as every eye in the room went to him, the suspicion and speculation
so heavy he felt it almost as a physical touch.  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Vikter let out a long breath and tried to calm himself.  “Michael,” he began, “would
you object to some tests that Doc needs to perform right now?”

“No, of course not,” Michael said, frowning.  “I’d like to know why though.”  He stepped
further into the room, approaching Vikter.  “Is this about those headaches?  Because
honestly Vikter, I feel fine now, and there are a lot of people here in much more
need of medical attention.”  As he spoke, Michael’s gaze drifted around the room until
it fell on Honey, lying prone on an exam table behind the Vulpirans.

“Honey!” he gasped, hurrying to her side.  He reached out, then hesitated as he saw
the field splints and bandages.  He turned to Jackson Bearen, an accusing expression
on his face.

“You said she was injured, but you led me to believe it wasn’t serious,” he said.

“I apologize, Dr. Davis,” Jackson said.  “I saw no reason to upset you more than necessary,
and her injuries are not immediately life threatening.  The Healer, Jareth, will fully
heal her as soon as he is able.”