Heart Of The Sun (5 page)

“Vash!” Alan cries out, but Vash turns away. Alan sees red and knows Vash’s blood is spilled by his own hand before the man even crumples. The knife falls into the sand. The commandos race in as Alan rushes to Vash’s side, tearing off a piece of his uniform and trying to stem the wound.
It looks like he collapsed before he could slash his windpipe and artery. He might make it if he can get medical treatment.

The commandos are all around them now, pointing guns at Alan’s head as he tries to save the fading life beneath him. 

“Please,” he says. “Vash needs medical treatment. Come on, he’s one of your own!”

“
Sala
?” One of the commandos says, and Alan can see the translation jewel around Vash’s neck is broken.
That’s what stopped the knife. I’ll bet on it. Only now I can’t negotiate for his life.

The commandos burst out laughing, and Alan is roughly dragged to his feet and thrust down onto his knees. He feels the butt of a gun pressing into the back of his head.

“
Kast’ka
?” One of the men asks the commando. The commando nods. “
Kast’ka shamala. Vorshaya!
” The others laugh as the soldier rushes for some kind of medkit. Alan doesn’t need to see the needle or understand the language to know what’s coming up.
They’re going to execute me as a kast’ka. They must think I’m Vash’s lover, or perhaps they intend to punish me in his place. Either way, this battle is over. There’s only one way out now. I wish I had a cyanide pill, but I’m no spy. Just a soldier.
He looks for his gun, but it’s abandoned ten feet away in the sand and he knows he’ll never reach it. He sees a glimmer beneath him and eyes Vash’s knife. He makes a quick dive for it, and pushes it into the abdomen of the commando leader. It feels strange, like cutting into a hunk of soft meat.
I’m not used to hand-to-hand combat. The clinical coldness of space warfare is nothing like this.
His blood sings in his veins, an ancient instinctive song of human ancestors who fought and died as soldiers and he pulls the knife out as the commando’s expression changes to one of shock. There’s blood everywhere, and time seems to run slower for Alan as he dives to the ground to avoid a shot. He slashes at the knee of a commando and he falls into the sand. Alan claws up him and slashes his throat, blood spraying up from a severed artery.

“
Asana! Asana! Vaka ne!
” Another commando starts barking orders and the unit seems to recover. Alan dives for his gun and reaches it, firing off shots wildly as the commandos close on him. A burst of laser whistles past his ear and he can feel the heat of it burning, stinging. Another one hits him in the stomach and he can feel it searing him as he falls back. The purple sand catches him like a soft cloud as the commandos close in for the kill.
I’ll die as a soldier with a gun in my hand. I’ll fight to the last.

He closes his eyes, the burning pain tearing through his gut as he waits for the final execution shot from the figures above him. Instead he hears a roaring sound and the sound of heavy laser fire. He opens his eyes to see a Planetary Utility Vehicle equipped with a laser cannon rolling towards him. The commandos dive behind a crystal formation and radio for backup. The cannon fires again, shattering the amethyst pillar. It crumbles into a million pieces of sparkling sand that float down as Alan watches. He places a hand on his wound and comes back with warm, sticky blood.
That’s not good. It may already be too late.
He looks across at Vash and sees the man lying prone and motionless.
Don’t die on me. If we’re going to get through this, we’ve got to do it together.
The laser cannon fires again, taking out the last of the commandos. The purple sand is stained with the commandos’ blood and the smell of burning flesh mars the air, but still the twinkling sand floats down from the air and so he concentrates on that as soldiers rush to his side.

“He’s badly hurt. We need to get him to a medbay right now.” A medic leans over him, taking his vital signs.

Vash. I have to save him. They’ll think he’s one of them.
Alan moves his arm. “My friend. Save my friend. Save... Save Vash. Please.”

“Your friend? I don’t see anyone else over there,” the medic says.

“The Karalian. With the throat injury. Please. He saved my life...” Alan feels the world swimming away, but he fights to remain conscious. “Help him...” The medic stands up and walks over to where Vash is lying in the sand.

“This guy?” He leans down and checks Vash’s vital signs. “I don’t know if we can save him. He’s lost a lot of blood. Scott, get me the clotter right now!”

I’ve done all I can.
He feels a speck of dust tickle his face and he can see it sparkle on the tip of his nose. His eyes are lidding and he knows he can’t fight it any longer.
It’s in the hands of the Gods now, Vash.
He closes his eyes and lets himself drift away as the medics and soldiers buzz around them.

Chapter Six
Switching Sides

Day Thirteen

Earth Base, Rinax Mountains

When Alan comes to, his eyes are stuck together. He rubs at them until they open, brushing away the sleepy sand that has amassed there. He’s aware of a dim burning pain in his abdomen as he looks around his new surroundings. For a moment he thinks he’s back on the Heart Of The Sun as he sees the modern hospital room and equipment, but then he realizes that he can’t hear the thrum of the engines or the slightly heavy feeling that comes with artificial gravity.
We must have made it close enough to the base that they were alerted to what was going on. They rescued us and brought us here.

Vash. I have to find out if he’s okay.
He moves his legs, stiff as they are, until they’re hanging off the edge of the bed. He’s dressed only in a thin hospital shift and feels oddly naked as he pulls himself to his feet. He can feel the sticky tape holding the bandages to his chest pulling on his body hair and he winces a little as he moves.

The doors slide open and the doctor seems taken aback as he sees Alan on his feet. He ushers him back to the bed with the kind of force that suggests it’s not an option.

“You should be in bed,” the doctor says. He’s a balding middle-aged man who looks like he’s seen better days, and Alan wonders if his post here is somewhat of a demotion from a former position.

“My friend. Vash. Did he live?”
I have to know if I need to mourn a friend. Right now I care about that more than any of my injuries.

“The Karalian? He’s stable for now, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet. He’s very lucky that I used to work with Karalian refugees. Most doctors wouldn’t know where to begin with Karalian physiology.”

Alan seemed to relax, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“It’s my job. Better than treating the aches, pains and complaints of the soldiers, at any rate. May I ask how you ended up on Rinax One and how you became friends with a Karalian?”

Of course. Questions. This is a listening post, after all. Spies are suspicious folks at the best of times.
“My ship was hit. I ejected, but my life-support pod was pulled into Rinax One’s gravity. I thought it was all over. I woke to find I had a serious injury in my leg. I thought I would bleed out. Imagine my surprise to find a Karalian outside my ship! I thought he would shoot me, but instead he healed my wounds with his powers. He’s not like other Karalians. He’s a decent man with a sense of honor. He’s defended me on multiple occasions, even at the cost of his own health.”

“Do you know what he was doing on Rinax One?”

“Running from the Karalians. They want him dead. He wants to apply for asylum.”

“Asylum?” The doctor raises his eyebrows. “On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that he’s being persecuted on his home planet for being gay.”
Sorry to spill your secret, Vash, but I need to get you out from under the cloud of suspicion.

“Ah.” The doctor falls silent. “A
kast’ka
, hm? Not the first I’ve met trying to get away from Karalian persecution. They say the punishment is worse than death.” He shakes his head. “Your story checks out. We’ve been monitoring the Karalian for a while. He’s quite an important person on Karalia, you see. The Zor’Vina family is powerful indeed and has quite an influence on Karalian politics. The youngest son’s
kast’ka
status must be quite embarrassing for the family. I’ll wager they want it covered up before he can defect and go public. The commander will be happy to finally have the missing piece of the puzzle.”

“I had no idea,” Alan says. “I want to see him. Can I?”

“Perhaps later,” the doctor says. “Right now we need to focus on you. That’s a nasty laser burn you have there, but we were able to seal it promptly, which means the chance of infection is low. Still, it will be delicate and sore until new skin grows. You won’t be cleared for duty for some time.”

“I should contact the Heart Of The Sun,” Alan says. “They need to know I’m alive.”

“Already taken care of,” the doctor says. “As soon as we saw your dog tags, we made the call. Admiral Halen was quite happy to receive some good news for once.”

Alan smirks a little. “Yeah, I guess so. He’s probably wondering how I pulled it off again. I’m just too stubborn to die.”

“Stubborn or not, you’re still mortal. I’ll see about getting you a visit with the Karalian, but for now you need to rest.”

“Okay, doc. I’ll do as you say.” Alan rested his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes.

* * *

The skylight is showing darkness outside again by the time Alan is awakened by the commander. He stirs and salutes, still feeling drowsy.

“Thanks for the rescue, sir,” Alan says. “You came just in time.”

“We would have intercepted the commandos sooner, but we didn’t want to advertise our presence here,” the commander said. He held out a hand. “I’m Commander Macey.”

“Alan Karvakian.” Alan takes the hand and shakes firmly.

“Quite a story you have,” Macey says. “Not every day you hear of Humans making Karalian friends. He’s not exactly your average Karalian though, is he? I had to admit I was surprised myself when I spoke to him.”

“He’s awake? Wait, you can speak his language? The translation jewel... it broke.”

“Yes, he’s awake, and we have translators here on the base. Wouldn’t be much of a listening post if we couldn’t understand the messages we intercepted. Doctor Norgen told me you were asking to see him as well. I’m sure we can set up a little meeting. Come with me.”

Alan stands up shakily and follows Macey out of the room. He feels like he should be wearing clothes as he walks through the hallways of the base, his legs growing cold as soldiers watch him pass by. They eventually reach a room under guard. Macey and Alan are waved through into a small hospital room where Vash is lying on a bed. There is a metal bracelet on each of his wrists, and they look tight and uncomfortable.

“What are the bands for?” Alan asks.
They look like cuffs. He’s not a prisoner here, is he?

“Anti-magic bracelets,” Macey explains, half-apologetically. “We can’t afford to take any chances until we completely verify his story and complete his asylum application.”

“
Vafora
,” Vash says. “
Asora vaendra
.”

“He says it’s okay.” The translator steps forward, a young woman somewhere in her twenties. “He doesn’t want you to worry about it.”

“I’ll leave you alone,” Macey says. “Tell the guards when you’re done.” He exits the room, leaving Alan and Vash alone with the translator.

“Are you feeling okay?” Alan asks. The translator converts it into Karalian and Vash nods, saying something back to the translator.

“He says he’s as well as can be expected. He thanks you for saving his life.”

“It wasn’t really me,” Alan says. “It was the soldiers who saved us.”

“You still dragged me across the desert. I owe you a debt.”

“You healed me. You helped me defeat those commandos. I think we’re more than even,” Alan says. He looks at the bandages around Vash’s neck and knows that underneath is a wound that will scar him for life.
You almost made the final cut. Thank the Gods help came in time.
Feeling an upswell of tenderness, he places his hand over Vash’s, squeezing the large, thin hand and saying everything with that simple touch that he couldn’t bring himself to filter through the translator.
I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad we made it here together.

“They’ve offered me a chance at asylum,” Vash says. “If I accept, the commander says I will be able to travel to Earth on the Heart Of The Sun, which is scheduled to return for leave.”

“That would be perfect.” Yet Alan feels a hint of reluctance in the other man’s tone.
There’s something holding him back. What is it?

Vash closes his eyes and mutters something. “I’m tired,” the translator says. “Thank you for your concern, Alan. I would not be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’ll let you rest,” Alan says. He makes his way to the door and it slides open. The guards nod. One leads him back through the maze of corridors while the other stays outside Vash’s room.
Of course they’re going to guard him. It’s just to make them feel safe. Still, he must feel like a prisoner in there, prevented from using his magic, unable to directly communicate. I guess his reluctance isn’t so surprising. Still, did he expect to be welcomed with open arms? The Karalians haven’t been kind to us as a people.

The door to his room opens and Alan slips inside, the guard walking back to his post. Feeling suddenly exhausted, he lies down on the bed and promptly falls asleep.

~

Alan doesn’t stir in the dead of night when his door slides open and Vash slips in. The Karalian just stands over Alan for a moment, listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing and watching the rising and falling of his chest. He rubs the sore rings on his wrists where he broke the anti-magic cuffs with brute force. Alan’s lips part for a breath and Vash is overwhelmed with the sudden desire to kiss those lips, to say goodbye one last time. He knows the guards he’s knocked out in the hall won’t stay down for long, but he can’t resist one last look at the Human who brought him so far.