Irsud (22 page)

“Burash.” Harskari's quiet voice dropped the single word into the tense silence.

“Ah. I can't believe he's even the same species.” She smiled involuntarily.

“Male, female differences, an alien species … it's called culture shock, my dear.” Harskari chuckled. “Better that you accustom yourself to it. My impiadjawa … foreseeing … tells me we'll be seeing quite a few widely differing sophonts and cultures.”

“You'll do it for me?”

“Leave it to me,” Swardheld grunted. “My hands know their job.” The black eyes squinted. “Not a thing for pride, freyka. I'm glad you've never had to learn that particular skill.”

“I thank you,” she breathed. “My friend, my friend.”

“Vaelcomm, freyka.”

Shadith blinked impatiently. “Why sit around and stew over this business? Get it done now.”

“Fine. You handle the time shift, Harskari?”

“Of course. Aleytys?”

“Yes?”

“Will you watch or do you prefer to sleep?”

“Are you babying me now, Harskari?” Aleytys laughed shakily. “No. I'll tak your advice. Face up to the consequences of my own decisions. I may be just a rider, but I keep my eyes open.”

“Good.”

Swardheld shook himself into her body. He stood up, stamped her feet as if putting on long boots, and strode purposefully over the grass. At first Aleytys felt a little uneasy, the edges of her sense of her being trailing helplessly around like ragged cheesecloth in a high wind. But Shadith helped her tuck the ends in and by the time they reached the archway on the far side of her bedroom she was nestling comfortably, watching with a slightly queasy interest.

“Hit it, princess.”

“Take it fast as you can, Swardheld. I'll be in half-phase through the hall, full shift in Asshrud's bedroom, back in half in the hall. You understand. I can't hold it the whole way.”

“Fine. You okay, freyka?”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

The diadem flared, briefly running its notes down to a semi-audible burring. Swardheld dragged the stiff tapestry aside and slipped quickly through the hall, brushing past guards who moments later glanced around confusedly for the half-seen shadow form. At the entrance to Asshrud's rooms the diadem sounded again, going to the subsonic range that put an itch in Aleytys' bones, an itch she felt only distantly, insulated as she was in her niche.

This time Swardheld had to thrust his body against the tapestry to shove the material aside. He swam against the gelatin air and slipped into the small side room where Asshrud slept.

Aleytys watched sadly, pity almost destroying her will to go through with the killing, the huge ungainly shape in its solitary cell pleading strongly with her for understanding and compassion.

“Now, Leyta, remember.” Shadith's voice sang in her ear. “You're saving a life. Besides your own. Kitten. Remember? And she'll keep frying to kill you.”

“‘I know.” She dragged her mind gaze from Asshrud's face. “It doesn't help much.” She gave a small snort. “If it were the kipu, now.…”

“Igaza ti.” The light laughter felt warm and friendly.

Aleytys heard a dull thud. While Shadith had distracted her, Swardheld had neatly broken the sleeping Asshrud's neck. He straightened and plunged back through the heavy resistant air. As he shoved once more past the tapestry, the diadem swooped up to the basso tingle. Again Swardheld wove through the alerted guards. They were still gaping around moving in exaggerated slow motion, searching futilely for the elusive shadow that shifted through them a second time. He slid past the tapestry and sped across the room to the bed.

The diadem notes rang out like fire sparks drifting through the air while the stiffness around her body slid away. “Done, freyka. Dive into bed and look like you're asleep.” The black eyes closed and she was abruptly alone.

Dithering nervously Aleytys shrugged out of the robe and fumbled at the covers. Outside in the hall she could hear an increasing murmur of voices as the guards reacted to the mysterious events just moments before. “Hurry.…” A thread of sound … she couldn't even tell which it came from … shocked her like a hot wire against her backside and she dived into bed. The empty bed.

For an instant grief overwhelmed her, driving out everything else; tearfully she reached out for the pillow beside her, buried her face in it and sobbed painfully.

The guards came streaming into the room. Three flitted through into the garden while the saydi-resh padded cautiously to the bed. “Damiktana?”

“'What?” Aleytys sat up and wiped her eyes, glad of the curtains' added privacy. “Why are you here?” She sharpened her voice at the guards' ears.

“‘Something.…” The nayid's voice broke and she paused, annoyed and apprehensive. Aleytys could feel her stiffening her back. “Something brushed past us and came into your room. Did you see anything, Damiktana?”

“I was asleep. You mean another attack on me?”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know much. Something. Some nebulous thing. Came through here. Why didn't you stop it, whatever it was? That's what you're there for.”

“It moved too fast, Damiktana, and it was hard to see.”

“Well?”

“The sabutim are searching the garden.”

“If you couldn't get a look at the thing in a well-lighted hall, how do you expect to catch it in that?” She swung an arm toward the garden, forgetting that the guard couldn't see it. “It's dark out there.”

The guard clicked her boots. “We have to try, Damiktana.”

“Ha.” Aleytys scrubbed her face with the sheet. “Call the kipu.”

“Damiktana.…”

The sabutim trooped back into the room, interrupting her. The saydi-resh turned to them with relief. “Well?”

“Nothing, elu Resh.”

“Nothing? The wall guards?”

“Saw nothing.”

“You searched the whole enclosure?”

“Im, elu Resh.”

“Im. Return to your posts.”

Relieved, the trio silently saluted and strode out of the room.

Aleytys pulled her robe back around her. She stepped into the center of the room and waited for the saydi-resh to come around to her. “Call the kipu,” she repeatedly sharply.

“Yes, Damiktana.” Subdued, the guard tapped her caller. After several calls the kipu's angry voice sounded in a mosquito whine of irritation. “It better be good.”

“Rab' kipu, the Damiktana.”

“Again! What happened?”

“Something came into the hall from her room then returned seconds later.”

“Something? What?”

“I don't know. We caught half a glance of a shadow thing. No shape we could get. It moved so fast it was gone before we had a chance to do anything. We searched the Damiktana's room and the enclosure, found nothing. The Damiktana insisted I call you.”

“Ah.” There was a moment's silence. “Return to your post. I'll be down presently.”

“Im, rab kipu.” The guard tapped the communicator off and bowed briefly to Aleytys then strode from the room as rapidly as she could move and keep it under a run, clutching desperately at her beleaguered pride.

Shadith opened her eyes and laughed. “Like you stuck a pin in her balloon.”

“You can laugh. I've got to face her boss. Could she follow us on those damn electronic eyes of hers?”

“Insufficient data, love. We'll have to wait and see.”

“Ha! Well, Harskari, would I be leaning too much if I asked for your help here?”

“What kind of help do you need? Be specific,” Harskari snapped forcefully.

“Advice. You. All of you. Constantly remind me these are different species. That I can't really trust my readings of their emotions. You've all had experience dealing with aliens. I keep acting like they feel the same as I do, think the same as I do, I know it's a mistake, but I keep doing it. If I seem to be falling in that hole, give me a kick, will you? And if you think of anything, any of you, let me know, will you?”

“Good. A legitimate request.” Harskari smiled. “We'll watch out for you.”

“Thanks.” As Aleytys settled herself in her chair, the lift panel slid open and the kipu stepped into the dark room. She frowned, palmed the light on and stepped over to Aleytys.

“Well?”

Silently Aleytys held up her hand, then tapped her belt The kipu frowned again.

“Why?” she snapped.

“All right.” Aleytys shrugged and folded her hands in her lap. “If you want this on tape.”

“What?”

“Our little chat a while back this night. Remember?”

“So.” The kipu stepped briskly away from her until she had a three meter space between them. Then she tapped the communicator again.

“That does it?” Aleytys eyed the black cube with rising curiosity.

“Done.” The kipu folded her arms over her flat hard thorax. “Now. What do you have to tell me?”

“The job is done.”

“What!”

“I did my part. I expect you to reciprocate.” She glanced down at her hands, then hastily tucked the trembling fingers under her legs. Lifting cold eyes, she considered the nayid in front of her. “I trust you, kipu. As far as I could throw you. You understand?”

Frowning uneasily the kipu shifted another half-pace backward.

Aleytys laughed harshly. “You needn't be afraid of me. You've got a hold on me that's stronger than you could ever know. Pull my strings, puppet master, make me dance for you. But I'll dance better if you throw a few sweets my way. I want to see the hiiri and Burash, see they're really alive.”

“Why should I?”

“Send the guard to check Asshrud and Gapp.”

“Gapp?” The kipu sounded startled.

“Why advertise your interest? Or suggest privileged information?” Aleytys sighed. “I'm tired. And there'll be a lot of flap after they find her. Show me now.”

“Why wake them? I'll show you in the morning.”

“No. Now.”

The kipu pursed her blue-purple lips. After a minute she tapped the communicator again. “Etiru-resh.”

“Rab' kipu?”

“Bring the prisoner Migru. Let him speak.”

“Im, rab' kipu.” The tiny voice sent shivers through Aleytys' taut body.

“Let me speak to him.”

The kipu detached the box from her belt. “You can ask him how he is, nothing else. Understand?”

“I understand.” She held out shaking hands for the box.

“Press this when you want to speak. Let it up when you listen.”

“Thank you,” Aleytys said absently, polite out of long habit. She pressed the button down. “Burash.”

“Let up on the button so he can answer.” The kipu's voice was cool and faintly amused. She had quickly overcome her uneasiness as Aleytys demonstrated the depth of her commitment to the hostages.

“Leyta, is that you?”

“Burash, how are you, how are they treating you?”

There was silence a moment. “Sorry, Leyta, can't get used to this thing. I'm all right. For now anyway. It's not the pleasantest place to be, but it could be worse. I suppose.”

The kipu tapped her arm. “That's enough.”

“Good night, love. I'll do what I can for you. Believe me.”

“Leyt.…” His voice abruptly cut off, to be replaced by that of the nayid guard.

“Is that enough, rab' kipu?”

Aleytys shook her head violently. “No,” she hissed. “The hiiri. I want to talk to her, too.”

The kipu sighed impatiently. “Etiru-resh, bring the hiiri. The female prisoner.”

“Im, rab' kipu.”

The kipu lowered her head, her antennas flicking up and down at Aleytys. “Just ask her how she is.”

“Yes.” She pushed the button down. “Kitten, are you there? Are you all right?”

After a moment's strained silence, Aamunkoitta's voice came through tiny and startled. “Kunniakas, is that you?”

“Yes, yes, it's me, Kitten. Are you all right?”

“Enough all right that it scares me. I expected a lot worse.”

“Keep your heart up, my friend, I'm.…”

The kipu took the box from her. “Etiru-resh.”

“Im, rab' kipu?”

“Continue with the prisoners as before—securely locked but well-treated. You hear?”

“Im, rab' kipu.”

The kipu returned the box to her belt. “Are you satisfied?”

“As much as I can be, given the circumstances. Call the guard. May you be happy with this night's business.”

CHAPTER XX

Aleytys scrubbed at her hands again and stepped into the steaming garden. The morning's rain had dribbled to a chill, depressing fog that crept through crevices and snuggled against the bone to steal the marrow warmth. Too restless to stay under roof she kicked her way barefoot through the soaking grass, feet cold and tender with it until the occasional stone was a real punishment, the punishment for her guilt. Aleytys shied away from that thought, even changed the direction of her feet.

The stone bench had a slippery film of water mixed with dust. She slid a hand over it and frowned at the muck staining her palm. Kneeling in the damp sand beside the stream she scrubbed at the stain, looked at her hands, and scrubbed again, harder.

After a while she stood up, tugged at the drag of the mud-soaked robe and moved aimlessly around the cheerless garden, shivering occasionally as dollops of icy water dropped from overweighted leaves onto her neck or shoulders. Absently she rubbed her hands now and then against her sides.

The ground felt mush ugly under her feet. She pulled herself up onto the arching branch of the live oak and settled against the upjutting limb, the leaves around her and above her drip-dripping mournfully around and onto her, the cool green oak musk strong and somehow comforting.

Her hands were dirty again, loose shreds of bark, a slathering of moss and mud from summer dust collecting in the crevices. She rubbed her palms against her sides, inspected them and rubbed them up and down again over the damp material of her robe.