Inherit the Stars (20 page)

He smiled as the beam revealed the chit he'd bought her freedom with at Tejuit. It had wedged itself into a crack beside the placard; a damned miracle the chit hadn't been sucked into space.

Utter darkness ruled the ship now. As a child he'd been frightened of the dark, whether the black void of space or the depthless fissures in Freen mines. Caitrynn had convinced him there was nothing to fear in the darkness.

As he dragged himself into the cryo chamber, Sar's eyes narrowed. When the Inheritors had conquered mineral-rich Freen, Caitrynn had been among those who resisted. She and her two children, almost teenagers, both died in the fighting. Her husband, stricken with black-mouth disease from mine work, had been executed by Inheritor soldiers afterward.

He hesitated and shut off the cold lamp.
In the dark, the faces of Caitrynn's son and daughter stared up at him from a bloodied mine tunnel. Bullet holes smoked in their chests. Yellow paint covered their foreheads, placed there by Inheritor troops to mark a defeated heretic.

“Damn you.” His whisper summoned the headless body of Caitrynn's husband, cast onto a pile of corpses. Men, women, children.

Sar's face pinched and his chest sank in.

Caitrynn still clutching a sword and pistol, her body sprawled over a burned-out Inheritor tank. The back part of her skull shattered open. Eyes closed, with a yellow-painted dagger shoved into her mouth.

Raging, uncontrollable emotions surged through his being.

He screamed at the darkness, the ship's chilled, decaying air hurting his throat and lungs. He stumbled into
the nearest bulkhead. Goddamn them! Gritting his teeth, Sar mashed the lamp's button. Its light banished the darkness, erased the images from his sight but not his heart.

Kivita might be able to end it all. Why else would everyone want her? A Savant like her could spread knowledge like no other. Send data to pinpoint and destroy Inheritor armies, coordinate assaults, direct battle fleets.

The lamp's beam flickered. Sar loosed a ragged breath and shook his head. Shekelor had been right after all.

Like he'd told Cheseia once, she and Kivita deserved someone else. Someone free of darkness, whose heart didn't have the chill of a vacuum.

Sar eased himself into Kivita's cryopod, shut off the cold lamp, and removed the mask. The cryopod's hatch snapped shut. Cold air filled his nose and mouth.

Caitrynn used to tell him stories—an older sister helping her brother cope with the hellish conditions in Freen's subterranean mining society. Stories of a paradise world just outside the Cetturo Arm, where people never died, never slaved in deep mines.

It was called Frevyx.

Before closing his eyes, Sar hoped the Juxj Star would reveal it to Kivita someday.

Seul's cryoports clamped shut and her spine went rigid. On the shuttle's console display, the remains of several Aldaakian ships floated in Tejuit's traffic lane. The two frigates had been the only Aldaakian military presence in the system—and Tejuit was a strategic cosmic crossroads, usually well defended by Aldaakian warships.

With other fleets still recovering from the Sarrhdtuu attacks into Aldaakian Space, the path to her people's worlds now lay open to the Inheritors.

“Captain Jaah, the Inheritor blockade of Tejuit has made this war official,” Vuul said over the console speaker. “Aldaakian forces in the vicinity are on full alert. The Inheritors may strike at Aldaakuun, or even Aldaak Emtar, through the Aldaakian Corridor in the Terresin Expanse. However, I think they have other plans.”

“Yes, Commander Vuul?” Seul gripped Kael's shoulders while standing behind his seat.

“Follow
Terredyn Narbas
. By your own report, the trawler was heavily damaged. It could not have jumped far.”

“It is done—”

“Captain Jaah? Your orders are now to destroy Kivita's ship on sight. No chances can be taken.”

The other Troopers aboard shared confused glances. Seul's fingers dug into Kael's chair.

“It is done, Commander Vuul.” Seul took a deep breath, and her cryoports tightened. “Officer Kael, I want the Sarrhdtuu beacon trajectory from
Terredyn Narbas
.”

Kael studied his console, thumbing a few keys. “Inheritor scanners will detect us, Captain Jaah. We've orbited the system for hours.”

“That's a chance we'll have to take.” Seul had never fought the Inheritors, since the peace treaty had been stable since the Nebulon conflict years ago. Why would those humans do this? The Inheritor battleship seemed to be waiting for something, which bothered her even more.

Seul exited the cockpit and paced between the launch tubes. Their shuttle's energy dump could power them six light years, so she had to find Kivita—fast. Seul wondered whether she'd have let the human escape if she'd suspected Kivita's importance on Umiracan.

Something about that placard on Kivita's ship still made Seul's chest tighten. A father with his daughter. Both had looked happy.

By the void, she wouldn't kill Kivita. The human was the best chance of contacting the Vim—but Vuul wasn't telling her something.

“Trace found, Captain Jaah,” the female navigator said.

Seul hurried back into the cockpit. “Where does it lead?”

Kael frowned. “Captain, the trawler departed to unknown coordinates.”

It was too easy, too clear-cut. Kivita knew about the
Sarrhdtuu beacon on
Terredyn Narbas
, knew she'd be followed.

“Captain Jaah, with your permission?” Kael asked, worry in his eyes.

She had no choice. Vuul's orders were for Seul to destroy Kivita, not follow her instincts.

“Make the jump.” Seul returned to her launch tube. It closed over her, acting as troop carrier and cryopod. Inserts entered her cryoports as her polyarmor unlocked. The pilots keyed in the coordinates, shut the viewport, and retired to their own cryopods. The vessel shuddered, making the light jump.

Seul tried to imagine what she'd say to Kivita. The redheaded woman was running from everyone. What did she really know? Seul wouldn't use force to find out. Guns and blades had spoken too long for her people.

A proximity alarm roused Seul from cryostasis, and the tubes retracted from her cryoports. She flexed her muscles and let her polyarmor lock in place, then opened the launch tube hatch. Gravity activated on board.

The life monitor showed that she'd been asleep for less than an hour.

Seul hurried from her cryopod, limbs trembling from lack of proper warm-up. Joining her, Kael opened the cockpit's forward viewport. The shuttle had entered a wide asteroid field.

“How did this happen?” Seul asked, while the other Shock Troopers roused from cryostasis.

Kael strapped into his seat. “Look, Captain Jaah.”

Outside the viewport, a hammerlike oblong shape floated five hundred feet distant.

“It's
Terredyn Narbas
,” the navigator said. “Scanners
show low engine power, though the beacon is still transmitting.”

Seul activated the console mic. “Kivita? This is Seul Jaah. We're here to help you.” She avoided looking at her comrades. Vuul wasn't around, and neither was his murderous agenda.

No answer.

“Kivita?” she asked again.

Terredyn Narbas
sat silent. What if Kivita had been injured when the pirates boarded her ship? Seul's cryoports squeezed.

“Captain Jaah?” Kael asked.

Seul grabbed her helmet. “She won't answer. Prepare to board.”

As they neared Kivita's ship, Seul left the cockpit and selected one squad. “I have point. Point Two, follow me once Auxiliary One has cut through the airlock doors. Flanks Three and Four follow. This is a rescue mission. I want all rifles and blades left behind. Batons only.”

The Troopers all frowned, though none commented. Seul took position beside the airlock and donned her helmet.

After magnetizing
Terredyn Narbas
, Seul stood back while the sliding doors opened. Auxiliary One readied his beam rifle, then hesitated.

“Captain Jaah, the lock has already been cut.”

The clamps on the airlock's four sides had been sliced by a beam weapon. Seul signaled her squad, and Flanks Three and Four flung open the doors with a pry bar.

The interior lay shrouded in absolute darkness, but after a few steps, faint running lights activated along the bulkheads. The same quarters she'd studied over Vstrunn greeted her again.

“If those lights came on, everything else should have, too,” Seul said. “Stay alert, everyone.”

Hefting her baton in zero-G, Seul waited as her polyboots magnetized to the floor. “Point Two, Flank Three, and Flank Four, follow me. The rest of you, stay here.”

Seul continued into the bridge. No one sat in the seat or gyro harness, so Kivita must be in her cryopod, if she still lived.

After a few minutes, Seul passed the living quarters, galley, and launch-capsule entrance to an even smaller cryo chamber. Stillness ruled the empty trawler. As the cryo chamber's lamps ignited at her presence, Seul gaped.

Cut marks lined the far wall. Sliced bolts and cooled slag floated over the floor. Energy couplings dangled from the wall and floor in the zero-G, having been disconnected from a large device.

No cryopod waited within the chamber.

Kael's voice came over Seul's helmet speaker. “Captain Jaah, scanners have detected a departing beacon signature leading back to the Tejuit system.”

“All Troopers, return to the shuttle,” Seul strained to say. “There is no sign of Kivita Vondir, and her cryopod is missing.”

After boarding, Seul had a Trooper close and seal
Terredyn Narbas
's airlock. For some reason, she wanted it protected, as if Kivita still lay inside. Asleep in a frozen tomb, like Niaaq Aldaar himself.

Cryoports snapping, she entered the cockpit. “Take us back to Tejuit, Officer Kael. Commander Vuul must be alerted. We will not enter cryostasis this time.”

Seul turned without waiting for an answer. With the cryopod gone, she dismissed theories of Kivita sending
Terredyn Narbas
here unmanned, to fool pursuers. Someone had taken her while Kivita slept in cryostasis.

More than ever, Seul feared for her race, the Vim, and her red-haired friend.

•   •   •

“Stop,” Kivita whispered through chapped lips.

The Kith crushed the Sarrhdtuu warrior with its hulking arms. Three more Sarrhdtuu, gilding over the floor on their gray-green coils, sliced the Kith apart with sicklelike blades. Kivita's point of view switched to her seeing everything from the tower's crystal floor. Blood formed a pool around her as the last Kith defenders collapsed under Sarrhdtuu beamers. Each dead Kith dissolved into fine metallic dust.

One Sarrhdtuu propped her up against the wall. Kivita's sight dimmed as the Sarrhdtuu holding her produced a red gem—the Juxj Star.

Something burned her gums. Her eyes fluttered.

The cryopod hatch opened. Kivita coughed and wiped pseudoadrine from her lips. Feeling returned to her chilled limbs as she tried to rise from the cryopod, but her stomach flared with pain.

“Wait until I truly come back for you,” Cheseia called, exiting her own cryopod. “I must certainly check our location.” The Ascali slipped on leather boots and left the cryo chamber.

Like she wanted to move. Besides, Kivita hadn't wanted to wake just yet, since she'd hoped to glimpse the crash-landing on Susuron again. Whoever had collected data into the Juxj Star had been present for so many different events. It wasn't possible, since the viewer from the Sarrhdtuu attack must have perished.

Cheseia came back dressed in chaps, polygreaves,
and a jiir headband. “I will help you get adequately dressed. Your condition surely demands attention.”

Minutes later, Kivita gritted her teeth as Cheseia finished tugging an envirosuit on her. “Now place your left hand around my waist and simply lean into me.”

“I'm not a cripple,” Kivita said.

“You will be, unless you attentively listen.” Together they neared the starboard airlock, Kivita wincing with each step. Her left leg burned, and soreness stabbed her right arm.

“Where are we?”

Cheseia pulled the airlock lever while
Frevyx
powered down around them. “I have certainly never been here.”

They stepped into a short, circular tube magnetized with
Frevyx
's airlock. The transparent sides revealed a star-studded void with a yellow sun millions of miles away. Several gas giants orbited it.

“Tejuit?” Kivita asked.

Cheseia said nothing while they passed through the tube and into an airlock bay filled with supply crates. Two terminals blinked with small screens, while three circular hatches waited under dim lamps.

The center hatch opened, and Jandeel entered the bay, smiling. “Welcome to
Luccan's Wish
.”

“The Thedes?” Kivita whispered, tasting blood in her mouth. She slumped against Cheseia, her scalp tingling.

“Summon the medics!” Jandeel called.

A sharp throb pierced Kivita's gut.

Kivita tried to straighten, but stumbled into Cheseia. “No, I need . . .”

Pain stole her words, seared her thoughts. To stifle a cry, she pressed her face against Cheseia's shoulder. The Ascali's fur smelled of exotic bark vapors, used for perfume on certain worlds. She tried to think of such places . . . anything to ignore the pain.

“Stop moving,” Cheseia said in a gentle tone. “The medics are certainly coming. You should not be foolishly walking.”

“Going to meet them.” Kivita grunted and took another step. “On my feet.”

Cheseia shared a look with Jandeel, and they helped Kivita along. Jandeel limped, favoring his right side.

They entered a large chamber filled with lockers, cushioned seats, and bright lamps. The smell of sweat and stuffy air filled the space. Six men and women in polyarmor waited, kinetic pistols in hand.

Jandeel held up a hand to the guards. “The human tested positive on a brain-pulse scan. We can question her later.”

A door on the other side of the chamber opened, and
two humans and two Ascali rushed through. They brought medical satchels, a collapsible stretcher, and cold packs.

Shivering, Kivita tried to stand on her own again. She'd never been in a stretcher, never required surgery. All her ills and aches had been healed during long cryosleeps while wrapped in blue tape. She didn't need all this . . .

Cheseia helped Kivita onto the stretcher after the medics opened it up. “Her bruised stomach still prevents her from truly walking. She has certainly not coughed up any more blood since we arrived.”

“Anything else you've told them about me?” Kivita winced and held her abdomen.

Cheseia didn't answer as two guards escorted the Ascali from the room. Jandeel nodded once to Kivita, then followed Cheseia. The medics lifted Kivita's stretcher and carried her; each corridor they passed through had a slightly different scent. She guessed the pressurized atmosphere needed more regulation. Patch welds and mismatched bulkheads hinted at constant repairs.

In the infirmary, two autohelpers swerved and clicked in one corner, caring for a dozen different patients on cots. Both consisted of nothing more than metallic cylinders on wheels, with ratcheted arms ending in pincers. In another corner an Aldaakian medic talked with an Aldaakian mother, who held an albino infant.

Over a scarred terminal an image flickered, showing a man holding a blue hibiscus flower and describing it. Kivita wondered if it was a hologram, something only Inheritor prophets were allowed to use. How did these rebels get one?

The Aldaakian medic approached, while the others
lifted her from the stretcher and placed her onto a cot. The cot's coarse fabric creaked beneath her. Cheseia entered the room and stood beside the cot while the Aldaakian examined Kivita's eyes, ears, and mouth.

“She is not unfortunately contaminated.” Cheseia smoothed her mane back, eyes darting everywhere.

The Aldaakian medic sniffed. “She may require surgery.”

Kivita squirmed on the cot. “It's not that bad, really. I don't want—”

“To die.” The Aldaakian placed a mask over her mouth and nose. The air inside it stank of thick musk and seemed to fill her mouth with sand. She tried to speak, but her eyes wouldn't stay open. Hands tugged off her envirosuit.

The familiar tingle traveled across her temples and forehead. What would she see? Sar, escaping the Tejuit system? Stupid Juxj Star. Why couldn't the damn thing show her the future instead of the past?

The pain in her stomach subsided.

When she reopened her eyes, Kivita lay on a softer cot in a different room. White, indigo, and yellow hibiscus flowers surrounded her in red-brown pots. The air reminded her of a crisp Haldon breeze, and soft light came down from large ceiling lamps. Light gray walls surrounded her, along with eighteen other cots. Only four cots contained a patient.

The circular door hissed open and Cheseia entered, still wearing her breechcloth and headdress. A thin white tunic contrasted her dark mane.

“Your fever has finally relented. The medics worried you would tragically enter a coma.” Her soft voice caressed Kivita's ears.

“Coma?” Kivita asked, her tongue thick with pasty medication. “How long have I been lying here?”

Cheseia knelt beside the cot and studied Kivita's hair. “I truly envy your mane color. Of all the lovely hues humans have, I have always liked yours the best.”

Kivita snorted. “C'mon, how long?”

“Six Haldon days. The surgeon repaired your awfully ruptured stomach and properly set your right shoulder. Your other bruises have truly healed.”

“Yeah?” Pushing down with her arms, Kivita lifted herself into a half-sitting position. Her right arm, left leg, and stomach gave no ache, though all were numb. Confidence swelled in her chest.

Kivita sat up completely and touched Cheseia's mane. “Seems you saved my life, then.” The Ascali's long tresses resembled the finest threaded ply rather than hair, and the fur on her cheeks felt like plush cushions. No wonder Sar had taken up with her. Kivita wished she were this beautiful.

Cheseia smoothed Kivita's hair. “It is what Sar truly would have wished.”

The tension between them was so damn petty in light of recent events. War loomed between the Inheritors and Aldaakians, pirates wanted to sell her to the Sarrhdtuu, and Sar could be anywhere. Kivita decided to swallow her pride for once.

“I didn't want him to take my ship. I . . .” Kivita's throat tightened. “I'm not angry with you for loving him. For keeping him happy, since . . .” Emotions spilled up from within her as she realized years might have passed wherever Sar had escaped to. He might be older, with gray in his lovely curls. He might be dead.

“He will certainly find us. I think you amazingly
opened his heart, Kivita. If not for you, I truly doubt Sar would have humored me.” Cheseia smiled.

Kivita's laughter eased the tension in her throat and chest. “Yeah? I had to push myself on him at times. He's not like a Naxan seducer, who won't leave you alone. A gal has to approach him on his own terms.”

“Which you definitely did not, of course.” Cheseia grinned.

Kivita laughed louder. Two other patients looked in her direction. “No, you're right there. Just barged into his feelings when I wanted him.”

They shared a long, thankful look.

“The medics say you are certainly well enough to leave this infirmary. I know you tire of what Sar and I endlessly tell you about yourself and the gem. Now you will hopefully see.”

Kivita balked. “Wait—where is it?” She lifted the thermal blanket, as if the Juxj Star might be in the cot with her.

“Navon has it, though he supposedly has not studied it yet. He awaits you, once you have satisfyingly eaten.” Cheseia helped Kivita up from the cot.

Kivita opened a small locker and changed from the white shift into her polyboots, chaps, gold-meld breastplate, and maroon bodyglove. All had been cleaned and repaired. A new red pillbox hat had been set aside for her. She donned it all in a hurry, eager to meet the infamous Thedes. So far their kindness had refuted more of the Inheritors' lies.

Leaving the infirmary for a long corridor, Kivita stared at the intricate Ascali claw graffiti along the walls. Rhyer had told her the Ascali of Sygma carved poems and songs into trees or mud, which dried into stone.
Away from their homeworld, the graffiti was applied with paint or glue, like the examples before her.

“Those are lyrics from the ‘Chant to Revelas,' right?” Kivita pointed at the graffiti. “My father once went to Sygma. Told me they sung him the most gorgeous songs.”

Cheseia studied Kivita with wide eyes. “You truly know this? That would certainly explain the graffiti I saw on your ship.”

Kivita smirked. “Yeah, I'm not just another Inheritor farmer. I'm cultured. Well, a little.”

Another circular hatch opened, and Cheseia led her into a galley where people sat at tables cobbled from spare motor parts. A rectangular viewport, twenty feet long and ten feet high, remained sealed. Hibiscuses, orchids, and flowered cacti lent the place a peaceful ambience.

Kivita received curious stares from the others, a collection of mixed races and origins. Naxans drank reed ale with Ascali, while Tannocci and ex-Inheritors ate with a few renegade Aldaakians. A burly Sutaran woman laughed with a swarthy Freen man. A few children cried or played beside their parents. One Ascali male sung low, soothing notes accompanied by a man playing a nine-pipe reed whistle. Placards of old feudal nobles hung from the bulkheads, crusted with age.

Cheseia nudged Kivita to the serving counter. “Wood-snake milk, please.”

Leaning on the counter, Kivita cleared her throat. “A protein slab, jiir tea, and some sugared reeds. How much?”

The server, a middle-aged woman with curved tattoos along her temples, handed the food over. “Stars shine and wink, miss. Costs nothing, since you are on our rations list.
You're the one who's brought Vim knowledge? The one Sar Redryll sent us? Blessings of water and sun on you, miss.”

Kivita's cheeks warmed. “Um, yeah. Blessings of water and sun to you, too.”

She accepted the food and walked with Cheseia to a table beside the viewport. As they sat down, a few in the galley pointed at Kivita and whispered.

“What was that all about?” She sipped the jiir tea; its sweet warmth, tinged with a wholesome aftertaste, warmed her heart, as well. Accustomed to bawdy spaceports, Kivita hadn't expected such respectful friendliness.

“
Luccan's Wish
is visited only by other Thedes and allies who can be sincerely trusted.” Cheseia drank her milk, then licked the brownish-white foam from her lips. “This is truly also my first time here. Sar secretly spoke of it often.”

Kivita munched a sugar reed. “How many live here? How far from Haldon are we?”

“This cruiser houses more than four hundred right now, but can accommodate double that number,” Jandeel replied as he neared their table. “Our best scientists, Sages, and tactical leaders plot all Thede activity from
Luccan's Wish
. We departed from an uncharted location near Tejuit. The Inheritors would have paid a hefty price for those coordinates.”

“Departed? For where?” Kivita almost stood up, but Jandeel raised a hand.

“Navon will reveal that when you meet with him. Kivita . . . this ship never leaves the Tejuit system, so that Thede agents know where to send reports. That's how important this signal is.” He grimaced and limped beside them.

Kivita grunted, chewing the salty protein slab. “So, how's that wound?”

Jandeel gave a slight bow. “If you hadn't convinced those brutes to make that shabby tourniquet, I may still be in the infirmary. Sar spotted me and signaled allies on the hive ship to help. I repay a good deed in kind, Kivita. I've convinced the others that you aren't a spy. Please don't make a liar out of me.” He grinned.

A dark-skinned Dirr boy approached their table with childlike curiosity. Kivita offered him one of her sugared reeds, which he took and ran back to the serving counter. She smiled and studied the other children. Healthy, happy, well cared for. The life her father would've wanted for her. The life she'd once dreamt of with Sar.

Jandeel nodded in the children's direction. “They are our future. Raised here in peace and educated by our resident Sages.”

“Guess that's you, huh? You always do a brain scan when someone visits?”

“One cannot be too sure in these times. When you have finished your meal, come to Level Six. Navon has been waiting to see you.” He left them alone, walking slowly.

“Wow, all these kids . . . Sar always tried to convince me to quit the salvaging business before radiation made me sterile like him.” Kivita finished her last drink of tea.

“I do not think Sar is actually sterile,” Cheseia whispered.

Kivita jerked back and stared. “What?”

“I am not truly certain, but I think he unfortunately misled you. He always ate little green pills before we excitedly shared one another. Sar has also told me to surely seek someone else.”

“Yeah. That's Sar, all right.” Kivita bit her lip. Focusing on Sar right now would only spiral her into depression. “Guess I'd better go see this Navon guy.”

Cheseia gathered their cups and took them back to the server, while Kivita entered a nearby lift. It led to Level Six.
Luccan's Wish
had ten decks. Where'd these people find such a large ship?

The lift door opened to an observation deck lined with vegetable, fruit, and flowering plants, where two older Naxan women argued in playful tones over how much water the plants needed.

“This way.” Jandeel stepped from behind a giant indigo hibiscus.

“Some woman with a red cap sent me.” Kivita smirked and touched her new hat.

Jandeel chuckled and led her from the observation deck into a dim-lit, cubicle-filled room. In each cubicle, a Sage instructed several students. Two holographic displays in the room's center showed various educational images: humanoid anatomy, planetary rotation, or Bellerion-reed growth cycles. Students of all ages discussed Naxan philosophy of the individual, Ascali respect for nature, or the pitfalls of ancient autocratic human kingdoms—subjects forbidden in Inheritor universities.

Not that Kivita had attended an Inheritor university—hell, any university—but she'd slept with enough students in spaceports to know. For the first time, that bothered her. Had she been nothing but spacer trash all these years?

“Don't feel disconcerted. Many others have yet to see our brand of education,” Jandeel said.

“No, I'm okay.” She pushed back red-blond bangs and continued on.

One Sage sketched engine schematics on a slate board for five adult students, pointing out the flaws in current light-jump technology and offering suggestions. Kivita recalled the vision she'd had about tweaking phased fusion-energy dumps.