Omega Games (5 page)

I tore at his garments and then my own, trying to bare as much skin as I could before the need overwhelmed me. Since Reever had introduced me to the pleasure we could give to each other, I welcomed any chance to take his body into mine.

Thanks to what my creator had done while meddling with my genes, I did not scar, and despite receiving many serious wounds my skin remained as flawless as a young girl’s. Reever’s flesh, however, bore the scars of many battles. He had once been an arena slave, forced by the Hsktskt to fight other captives to the death. He had held back those memories from me, but I had watched him fight, and knew my fearless husband possessed frightening speed and inhuman agility.

I knew why. When he had freed himself of the killing sands, he had vowed never to fight again. Still, he had fought for me, more times than I suspected I knew. He had gone into battle on Akkabarr, never wavering, so that he might find me again.

I bent to his chest, and as he slipped inside me, I kissed each mark, the silver-white keloids like tear trails against my lips.

“I am yours,” I whispered between each caress. “I am yours.”

Three

Of all the Jorenians I had come to know on board the
Sunlace
, I trusted Salo and Darea Torin most. Darea had been the first to call me by my chosen name, Jarn, and had supported my decision to avert another war by going to Vtaga to help the Hsktskt combat the plague of memory. Salo had stood by me when I went against my husband’s and Xonea’s wishes to the contrary.

I signaled them that evening, and met with them in our quarters early the next morning. They agreed to care for my daughter while Reever and I went to inspect some nearby planetary systems for evidence of black crystal infection.

Not that either of them believed that to be the reason we were leaving Joren, but they were true friends, and did not question the excuse.

“Reever has gone to secure our transport,” I explained as I served them tea. “We have both left recorded messages on the room console for her. We thought it best not to say farewell in person, to avoid having her again attempt to stow away and go with us.”

“A wise decision,” Salo said wryly. “Your ClanDaughter can be quite determined.”

“Xonea mentioned you will be leaving the pavilion tomorrow,” I said to Darea. “Will having Marel with you change your plans?”

“It need not, unless you prefer we stay here,” she said. “Whenever we return to Joren, we fly to the eastern provinces, to see friends and my natal kin. It is not a lengthy journey by glidecar, and I believe that Marel will enjoy meeting children from other HouseClans.”

“I agree. Nothing pleases her more than exploring new places and people.” I looked at Salo. “You must take the usual precautions, ClanCousin. There can be no photo images or vid recordings made of her. Our names must never be mentioned. No offworlder can know that she is our daughter.”

He nodded. “Duncan has created a protective identity for her, which we will use. We are to say that she is blood kin to HouseClan Kalea.”

I frowned. “No one will believe that our child is Jorenian. She is too small, and the wrong color.”

“Kalea’s ClanLeaders, Jakol and Sajora, are half Terran,” Darea explained, “and they both have the same color skin. I signaled them last night, and they have agreed to verify the claim, should any inquiries be made.”

“That is very kind of them.” I forced a smile. “Marel should eat and sleep well for you, as long as she is not given too many treats between meal intervals. There is a cloth toy that she clutches when she goes to sleep; she sometimes misplaces it, so I put it under her pillow during the day. Her hair must be brushed “You need not worry, Jarn.” Darea put her hand on my shoulder. “Your Marel is as dear to us as our Fasala. We will never allow harm to come to her.”

“I thank you for that.” I heard the door chime. “That will be Squilyp; he is to take me to Reever.” I pressed Darea’s hands between mine, and nodded to her bondmate. “I thank you, ClanSon Torin.”

“Healer Jarn,” Salo said, his deep voice gentle as he performed a formal bow. “Walk within beauty.”

I was not given the chance to walk anywhere. Squilyp escorted me to a glidecar, one of the ground vehicles the Torins used to travel around their land. I was made to climb inside and sit in it. I tried not to look back at the pavilion as the Omorr engaged the engine and drove away.

“I am not leaving for Omorr until Namadar,” Squilyp said, referring to the Jorenian’s annual planetary festival to honor their central deity. “I will make routine inquiries with Salo and Darea and assure that Marel is well. Did you pack everything you might need?”

“Reever assembled the supplies and the equipment he requires for performing surveys for black crystal. I have all the emergency medical supplies we might need for the journey.” I opened the top of my medical case and took out a tan-colored blob sitting atop my instruments. The Lok-teel, an intelligent mold that among other things absorbed organic waste and sterilized surfaces with its body fluid, crawled up my sleeve and slipped inside my collar, where it nestled between my breasts. “Do you think the child will miss us?”

“Yes, but we will be here to comfort her.” He gave me a sharp look. “You will not weep now.”

“No.” I almost smiled. “I will not weep.”

A short time later we arrived at an auxiliary transport dock, where Reever was waiting with the ship he had acquired for our sojourn.

“I was resolved to say nothing, as it is not my place to disapprove of this venture,” Squilyp said, his gildrells undulating with his agitation. “But Jarn, I think it foolhardy for you and Duncan to travel alone.”

“It is how it must be.” I looked out at the ships that were landing and launching. “If my child is unhappy with being left behind, or cared for by Salo and Darea, you will signal me and tell me.” He nodded. “I thank you, Senior Healer.” I climbed out of the vehicle and started for the gate.

Squilyp hopped quickly to catch up with me. “Wait. You know that the Torins will be happy to send a detachment of guards with you and Duncan. You don’t have to tell them why you’re leaving Joren.” He stopped me just before we entered the security checkpoint. “You’re not listening to me.”

“I have done nothing but listen to you since I left Akkabarr,” I assured him. “You asked me to trust you, and I have.” I looked into his worried eyes. “Now you must do the same for us.”

“You could be walking into a trap,” he said, his gildrells snarling with his agitation. “Have you thought of that?”

I had to remind him of an unpleasant truth. “Squilyp, when you and Reever and the others were searching for Cherijo, you knew that finding her— me—could reveal the truth behind the Jado Massacre. That what Cherijo had witnessed might goad the Jorenians and their allies into a war with the League of Worlds.”

He turned his back on me and inspected the cargo haulers moving freight out to the loading docks. “It i
s

not the same as this.” “It is
exactly
the same.” I felt a surge of sympathy for him. “You concealed your feelings, but part of you hoped that Reever would not find me, because if he did, and the truth were revealed, millions might die.”

His gildrells became spokes. “I suppose Garphawayn told you all that.” I nodded. “She admired your courage.” “My courage.” He glared at me. “I was your best friend. You taught me more about surgery than I can

say. Reever spent two and a half years quietly going mad while he looked for you. But if it had ever become a matter of choice—”

“One life to save millions?” I asked softly. “There is no choice in that, my friend.” His eyes glittered. “I thought of it, and I attempted to prepare myself to act, but I could not wish you dead. Since you returned to us, I have tried everything I know to bring back your memories—”

“And I am grateful, Squilyp.” I took my medical case from him. “Let Reever and me do this now. For all

those who will be lost if I do not.” Three strong arms came around me as the Omorr embraced me. Against the top of my head, he muttered, “You will send regular relays, and let me know that you are well and not being abducted, enslaved, or otherwise harmed. Or I will come after you myself.”

“I promise.”

I left Squilyp at the gate, where he stood and watched me until I reached the docking pad and the ramp to the scout ship, where Reever was waiting. I turned and lifted a hand. The Omorr scowled as he returned the gesture, and hopped back to the glidecar. “Husband,” I said as I inspected the vessel, which in close proximity seemed rather small. “This will be

our transport?” “She’s called
Moonfire
,” he told me. “The very latest in Jorenian research vessels, scout class.” I set down my case and walked around the nose. “The latest, or the smallest?” “The latest,” he said firmly. “And the fastest.” Although
Moonfire
was hardly larger than a standard ship-to-surface launch, it had a sleek, narrow

shape made glossy by hundreds of thousands of dark green, rectangular hull plates. A row of round, deep-space transceiver ports formed an arch over the blue-green viewer panels. The fuselage expanded and divided itself into five curved propulsion thrusters, which cradled a small escape pod. The ship could have easily been mistaken for the be-jeweled, clawed hand of some enormous deity.

“It is a beautiful little thing,” I told my husband. “But hardly inconspicuous.” “On the contrary.” Reever took a small device out of his pocket. “The Zamlon have been experimenting with various types of vessel camouflage.” He put his thumb to the device, and a purple halo of light appeared at the scout’s nose, illuminating the dark green hull plates briefly before they began to fade. In another moment the ship had vanished from sight.

The corner of Reever’s mouth curled in a rare show of amusement. “It didn’t go anywhere. Go ahead, reach out and touch it.”

I peered at the place where the ship had stood, and saw the very faintest transparent distortion rippling the air. When I reached out, I felt a strange, cool vibration and then the solid surface of the hull. Beneath the shadow of my palm and forearm, a section of the dark green panels reappeared.

“The hull plates are programmed to respond to the environment,” Reever told me. “When activated, they project an image that matches the ship’s surroundings.”

“A ship covered in devious mirrors.” I shook my head. “Ensleg wonders never cease.”

Reever and I boarded the scout, and as he took the helm and prepared for our launch I stowed my medical case and took a brief look at the rest of the ship.

Moonfire
offered two small living chambers, a tiny galley, and storage compartments filled with equipment and provisions. The propulsion systems and environmental controls took up the rest of the space. It would be cramped, but compared to the ice cave krals in which I lived on Akkabarr, it seemed a palace.

I joined Reever at the helm and, at his gesture, sat down in the copilot’s seat and fastened the launch harness across my shoulders and torso. I did not touch the wide panel of controls, viddisplays, and databanks in front of me. “To where do we journey first?”

“I have arranged to meet with Alek Davidov,” he said, referring to the trader who had once helped him free Hsktskt slaves. “He has many connections among the free traders. He can help us track the one that issued the bounty on you. He may also be able to help us discover who planted the grenade on your patient.”

I had not met any other Terrans besides Reever. “Do you trust him?”

He turned to me, as if surprised at the question. “Davidov posed as a slaver for many years. He used his family’s wealth to buy and free thousands taken by the Faction during raids. To my knowledge, he has never asked for recompense from any of them.”

“Then he is a generous man for a Terran,” I said. “Or a complete fool.”

“Alek is . . . complicated. Damaged, in some ways, by his experiences.” He paused. “I know it is difficult for you to trust strangers, but I once counted Alek as my closest friend.”

Friendship was another ensleg concept that did not sit well with me, but I trusted my husband’s judgment. Unlike normal humans, Reever could not form emotional attachments, so his trust had to be earned.