Balance of Terror (33 page)

“Moon—”

She held up a hand, silencing him. “If Srin had to die anywhere, and I couldn’t be there with him,” bright tears filled her eyes as her voice broke, “I’m glad that, at least, he had you.”

Kad exhaled heavily. “I wouldn’t be so quick to thank me for that, if I were you,” he said, twirling the stem of his glass. The brusqueness in his tone brought her head up.

She frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

Kad took a deep mouthful of wine then set the glass down again. “When Srin found out that your bags had been accidentally swapped, he was devastated. Then, the more he thought about it, the more he began considering it an act of fate. Without him around, he figured, Needann couldn’t blackmail you. You’d be free to live out the rest of your life without interference. That was one of the promises he extracted from me, to find you a place to call home. The other,” Kad paused, “was to let him die.”

He shook his head. “Moon, it’s one thing to shoot someone in self-defence, or to know that they were killed in an event you couldn’t stop, but to watch a sentient being disintegrate in front of your eyes….”

He gulped at his wine again. “I couldn’t do it.”

Moon’s frown deepened. “You…what?”

“Even though it was what he wanted, even though I had promised him that I would, I couldn’t follow through, Moon.”

Dammed hope flared in Moon’s chest. Her nose tingled and a new round of tears began running down her face. “What do you mean, Kad?” She knocked her wine over as she lunged at him, grabbing and shaking him with trembling fists. “Tell me! What the hell happened to Srin?”

“You told me about your escape from Slater’s End, do you remember?” Kad’s voice was deadpan. “We were aboard the
Tale
after I picked you up from 3 Enkil IV. And you spoke about that xeno-biologist, Hen Savic, and the drug regime he’d concocted. Later, after we evacuated Excalibur, when I was going through
your
rucksack with Srin, I noticed the sage green towel you had carefully secured in a stat-pak.”

“His original medication,” Moon murmured. Her hands dropped away. “The drug responsible for keeping him alive and wiping his memory.”

“That’s right. And I remembered that stat-pak when I was in the medical bay, watching Srin die. And I thought, what if?”

“You used it on him.” Moon’s voice was barely above a whisper but, in the complete quiet of the empty house, it sounded as loud as thunder.

“We weren’t delayed getting to E-Beta because of a Republic exercise,” Kad continued, watching her carefully. “We were delayed because I took Srin to a medical specialist I trusted.”

“Kad—”

“She confirmed that the only way Srin was going to get better was by undergoing extended gene therapy treatment. There would be ups and downs, she told me, progress then some regressions, but she rated the chance of success at better than fifty per cent. I thought of you and whether you’d accept those odds.”

“In a heartbeat,” Moon said.

Kad nodded. “That’s what I thought, so I told her to go through with it.”

“So you’re saying,” Moon’s eyes blazed, “Srin’s
alive
?”

This time it was Kad who held up his hands. “Hold on, Moon. Before—”

Moon shifted in her seat as if it had been set on fire. “I’ve got to see him! Where is he? Dammit Kad, how could you bring me all the way to this damned planet and then tell me this!”

“Right now,” Kad told her, raising his voice above her objections, “this separation is the best thing for him.”

He waited until Moon subsided before continuing.

“Both he and the medical staff can concentrate on getting him better, not fending off the impatient questions of an arrogant, imperious woman interrupting their schedule every fifteen minutes.”

A twitch of Kad’s lips lightened the statement and, after staring at him for a long moment, Moon eventually chuckled and sat back in her chair.

“By rights, I should wring your neck,” she told him, looking at him then flicking her gaze away, unwilling to believe.

“I’m sure that’s only a little part of what Needann would do, if she ever found out,” Kad added wryly.

“But she
could
find out!” Moon’s eyes widened with concern. “If she questions the crew aboard your ship, surely someone will let your secret slip out.”

“And why would she question anyone aboard my ship?”

“Well, because….” Moon looked confused. “Aren’t they all part of the same rebel network?”

Kad tilted his head to the side. “It’s not organised in quite the way you imagine. The
Unfinished Tale
is actually
my
ship, Moon. It doesn’t belong to Needann, just as E-Beta is her child and doesn’t belong to me. This layer of independence in our dealings makes it that much harder for the Republic to trace ownership of assets and tie us all together in one conspiracy. The other advantage to such an arrangement is that
I
pay my crew, Needann doesn’t. And, it follows from order to entropy, if she doesn’t pay them, she can’t claim their loyalty.”

Moon wanted to make sure she had heard Kad correctly “So nobody really knows about what you did?”

Kad shrugged. “That’s not strictly true. A couple of dozen people know but, considering how big the galaxy is, I’d say that’s an acceptable disclosure rate.”

“When do I get to see him?” Moon asked sharply, getting back to the most important question on her mind.

“I knew you’d be unstoppable once you got an idea in that head of yours. You’ve always been like that.” He smiled gently. “A communication arrived from my doctor today. Srin is making very good progress. He’s in rehabilitation at the moment. From what I gather, he went through the genetic equivalent of having a thruster outlet pipe shoved down his throat before the engine got turned on. It blasted out all the bad bits but, unfortunately, a few good things went with them.”

Moon held her breath. “Such as?”

“He’s still slated for a full liver transplant. Thankfully, the organ was grown from his own cells, so that should lead to minimal complications. There’s also indication of some neural difficulties but only time will tell if they’re permanent.”

Oh no, Moon wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily, especially not after what she’d been through over the past few months. “What
kind
of ‘neural difficulties’?” she asked in a steely tone.

Kad looked discomfited. “His, ah, computational abilities still appear to be intact but his coordination is severely hampered. At the moment, he’s described as being the equivalent of a stroke victim. As for his memory…I really don’t know, Moon. His childhood and early adult memories appear to be fine, but anything more recent is hazy. He gets agitated when questioned about events, so the staff have been holding off asking anything difficult.” His gaze begged for her understanding. “It could all be gone. All memories of you and what you went through together.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Moon said, feeling strong for the first time in weeks. “We went through something similar many times before. We can do it again.”

“Just…don’t be surprised if he’s not the way you remembered him.”

“When do I get to see him?” Moon repeated.

“I was told, four months.”

“Four
months
? From
now
? That’s insane.”

Kad laughed. “Moon, only five minutes ago, you thought the man was dead. Now you’re quibbling over four months?”

Moon had the good grace to look abashed as her cheeks flamed. “All right,” she conceded. “Four months. Then what happens? Do we go and pick him up?”

“I’ll bring him here. The less you’re seen in Republic space, the better. I don’t even want my
doctor
putting two and two together.”

“Kad,” she stopped, her voice choked with emotion. “I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

“Just keep your damned mouth shut, Moon,” he laughed, and rose to get another glass so they could do a proper toast.

Prologue

Moon didn’t know why she was taking so much care with her clothing. She eyed herself in the mirror as her trembling fingers adjusted the collar on her blouse. Professor Lazt had called a spontaneous department meeting…to introduce a new member of staff, he said. And something told her that it had to do with Srin.

The timing was right. It was almost four and a half months since Kad had left Credis after delivering his world-shattering news. In the interim time, Moon had been unbelievably good. She hadn’t sent comm calls winging across the stellar vacuum every day, asking for – demanding – updates on Srin’s condition. She hadn’t pestered Kad for his daily schedule for the next six months. Instead, she had concentrated on her students, finding her work strangely satisfying. What she was teaching wasn’t as sophisticated as her previous research, but the combined interest and dedication of her students was almost as rewarding.

She took a quick look around her house. It had taken a few months to find the pieces of furniture she wanted, but she wasn’t in a hurry. For the first time in years, she felt as if she could breathe freely. It was a heady sensation.

By the time she arrived at the campus, half of the department’s staff had already assembled in the staff room. She smiled and murmured greetings to those present and perched in an unobtrusive corner of the room, on top of a conveniently located data unit.

When Lazt entered the room ten minutes later, his guest in tow, Moon held her breath.

It was him. Srin.

Lazt stood at the front, gesturing Srin to stand beside him. With narrowed eyes, Moon took in every centimetre of her ex-lover’s appearance.

He was thinner than when she last saw him, but his face still bore that usual, serene expression. She had noticed him limp as he followed Lazt into the room and there was a slim walking-stick in his right hand. But, other than that, he still appeared to be her Srin, with his craggy features, broad shoulders and warm grey eyes.

Satisfied, she relaxed and tuned in to what Lazt was saying.

“...initial duties will be with the first-year students, revising what they’ve been taught and bringing them up to speed with expectations at this institute. Considering that we are now accepting students from other systems, I’m sure you all understand how important this task is.

“Because we’re almost at the end of the semester, I’ve told Dr. Lanix that he can shadow several of you on your remaining classes, with a view to beginning his own course in two months’ time. I hope you will all welcome him to the department.”

There was a smattering of applause and a few of Moon’s colleagues moved forward to greet Srin personally. Maybe she should have appeared more excited, but Moon was content to remain seated at the back of the room, a small smile playing about her lips. Every now and then, through the gap of people, Srin would look at her and their gazes would lock, until his attention was pulled away by another welcoming staff member.

It took almost twenty minutes, after some half-steps in her direction and a few strategic half-turns, before he finally made his way to where she sat.

“Hello,” he greeted, holding out his hand. “My name is Seedin Lanix. “

She smiled and stretched out her own hand. “Moahn Skylark.”

He tilted his head and smiled at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “I know this sounds strange, Dr. Skylark but, somehow, I get the feeling I should know you.”

“That
is
strange,” she replied, “but I feel the same way.”

He looked abashed and waved her words away. “Well, I hope you didn’t go through what I recently went through.”

The meeting looked like it had broken up, straggling staff members giving farewell waves before sauntering out the door. Moon waited for a few minutes then gestured for Srin to follow her into the now-empty corridor and down the steps.

“And what did you go through?” she asked, as they headed outside.

“I was told I was in a fusion accident while on my way to Credis.”

They stepped out into the gardens at the front of the institute and Moon breathed in the crisp winter air. Soon it would be spring, a season of new beginnings. Had the timing of Srin’s arrival been part of Kad’s plans as well?

“I almost died and had to undergo emergency gene therapy.”

He looked around at the trees and sky as if he had never seen anything like them before.

“Unfortunately, that resulted in some side-effects.” He indicated his walking stick with a wry smile. “Like this. It seemed the least obtrusive way to keep me upright.”

With his free hand, he tapped his temple. “And a few pathways here have burnt out.”

She smiled broadly at him. “Well you look just fine to me, Dr. Lanix.”

“I wanted to give you all the bad news up front,” he said.

Her gaze flickered. “All the
bad
news?”

“I believe in full disclosure…just before I ask a beautiful woman out for dinner.” He smiled and it transformed his face, lighting his eyes with boyish enthusiasm.

How could she resist it when she’d never resisted it before?

“You might say I’m pushing things too far, too fast, Dr. Skylark, but – having gone through a near-death experience that came
this
close,” he held thumb and finger barely apart, “to being terminal – I’ve come to the conclusion that life should be lived to the fullest.” He paused. “I hope that I haven’t offended you.”

“Not at all,” she assured him. “I, too, believe that one should grasp the opportunities one is presented with.”

“Exactly.” He looked pleased with himself. “So, and, as I said, I know this is very forward of me, but would you do me the honour of having dinner with me sometime, Dr. Skylark?”

Moon smiled and took his hand. “I would be delighted, Dr. Lanix.”

The trees were bare in the dry winter air, their naked branches reaching for the sky, but the couple were oblivious to the scenery and to the wind that tugged at their clothes like an errant child. Lost in each other’s gazes, they drew closer. Their lips met….

Letter from the author