Omega Games (6 page)

Read Omega Games Online

Authors: S. L. Viehl

Tags: #Cherijo (Fictitious Character), #Women Physicians, #Quarantine, #Torin; Cherijo (Fictitious Character), #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Torin, #Life on Other Planets, #General, #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Omega Games
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As for Davidov, I would reserve my opinion for now. “I look forward to knowing him.”

Transport issued our launch slot, and we left Joren without incident. I felt a wave of panic sweep over me as the planet dwindled behind us and
Moonfire
left orbit, but I forced myself to look out at the night snow of stars spreading out before us.

“Do you know, when I left Akkabarr for the first time,” I said, “I watched my world shrink, and panicked. I thought the heat from all the ensleg ships in orbit was melting it away. And then, on the Reever input something on the controls. “I never feared space as much as the worlds to which I sojourned, ” he admitted. “When I was very young, I suffered a great deal of anxiety at the prospect of meeting new species. Each time my parents initiated landing procedures, I would run to my quarters and hide in a different place, hoping it would be the one that they would not discover. Of course, they always found me. Then I would spend the next six months or year among whatever species inhabited that world while my parents performed their research.”

What Reever’s parents had done to him revolted me. “Did you fear being left with the ensleg?”

“Most of them were friendly and curious, but I hated them touching me. When they did, their languages invaded my head and made themselves plain to me.” He made an adjustment on the helm console. “You should have heard them, using translators to welcome my mother and father, all the while secretly hating them and thinking of ways to make them leave.”

My heart ached for him. “Did you never speak of this to your parents?”

He shrugged. “My mother did not believe in linguistic telepathy. She was like all Terran scientists, and put trust only in what could be seen, smelled, heard, and touched. What my father thought of me, I cannot say. He would not be distracted from his work by an anxious boy.”

I reached out and placed my hand over his. “We cannot choose to whom we are born. We can only learn from their mistakes and try not to repeat them with our young ones.” My heart tightened as I thought of Marel’s little face.

“I did not wish to leave her behind, Jarn,” Reever said bleakly, “any more than you did.”

I curled my hand tightly around his. “I know.”

According to the signal Reever had received from Alek Davidov, we were to rendezvous with his ship, the
Renko
, near a trade depot world at the very edge of the Varallan system.

“There.” I saw the trader vessel stationed above Trellus, a dead world made habitable by the installation of a dome colony. Cargo ships passing through the system frequently stopped at the planet to refuel, pick up supplies, and enjoy the various amusements. Oddly there were no other ships in orbit at the moment. “Should I send a relay?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Reever touched an emitter on the communications panel that glowed red. “It’s Alek. He’s signaling for permission to shuttle over.”

There must have been a full crew on board the
Renko
, but my husband’s friend came alone in a launch to
Moonfire
. It had been part of their agreement about the meeting, that no one else know that I accompanied my husband.

No matter how loyal Davidov’s crew were, four million stan credits would loosen any tongue.

As the men connected the two vessels so that Davidov could climb into our ship, I went back to the galley and prepared food and drink. I did not know what the ensleg custom was, but among my people it was rude to welcome a friend without preparing a meal for them. Men were also more at ease with each other if they shared food as well as talk.

It also gave me something to do besides imagine what would happen if my husband’s friend had grown

“Duncan.” Long legs clad in black trousers climbed down the ladder from the upper hatch. Davidov jumped down the last two feet and peered around him. “Is this a fighter made to look like a launch, or do your Jorenian friends have a sense of humor?”

My husband clasped hands with the Terran. “It is good to see you again, Alek.”

I stood back, out of Davidov’s line of sight, so that I could have a private look at him. The two men might have been brothers, so similar were their height, build, and coloring. Then the subtle differences became more apparent to me.

Davidov had darker, thinner hair, which he wore shorn like an Iisleg female’s. Above a wide-bridged nose, two night-colored eyes shifted all around, taking in everything. An angle-shaped scar on his cheek pointed to his left ear. His ready smile thinned his full lips around pretty teeth, but his good humor did not lighten the flat blackness of his eyes. I disliked people who manipulated their facial expressions to make others think they felt something they did not. I breathed in and became even more unsettled.

Although Davidov appeared Terran and healthy, I could not smell him at all.

The Terran seemed to be looking for something other than Reever, his fingers splayed as if prepared to grab it. His next words confirmed my impression. “Where is this woman of yours that I’ve heard so little about?”

I stepped out of the doorway and came to stand beside my husband.

“This is my wife, Jarn,” Reever said. “Jarn, my friend Aleksei Davidov.”

“Call me Alek,” the Terran said, regarding me as a jlorra might a limping stray. This two-legged snow tiger did not pounce, however, but offered a paw. “You are a lovely little thing, aren’t you?”

I briefly touched his hand but didn’t answer his inquiry. I was small, but I didn’t consider myself particularly lovely. Among the Iisleg, I had been regarded as a skinny runt. Ensleg also had a habit of asking useless questions to which they did not expect answers.

“Show me the rest of this interesting plasteel can,” Davidov said to Reever.

I waited in the corridor as my husband escorted his friend around
Moonfire
. As the ship’s systems were limited, it didn’t take long for the two men to return.

“Terran, obviously, but not the usual sort,” Davidov was saying as the men rejoined me. “Jarn, your husband won’t tell me how you two met. Did he purchase you from one of his old enemies, or were you so desperate that you had to settle for the likes of him?”

I raised my brows. “Reever and I met during the rebellion on Akkabarr. He was battle blind, and I repaired the damage to his eyes. Later, I threatened to kill him, but he talked me out of it and showed great courage. For that reason, and another, I agreed to be his woman.”

“Really.” He bent down, putting his face closer to mine to whisper, “Do you have an unattached sister, perhaps?”

He was attempting to use humor to flatter me, but among my people men did not compliment women, and women did not laugh at men. Reever did not respond to jests of any kind, so he also remained silent.

“I have prepared food and drink for you in the galley.” I gestured. “This way.”

Davidov spent the next hour talking about his recent sojourns, pausing at times only for breath. Reever responded now and then, briefly, but seemed content to listen. I refused to eat and drink with the men and stood to one side, observing. On Akkabarr females did not eat until all of the males were finished and had left the shelter. An act of deference, but also an excellent way to learn what the men would otherwise never tell us.

I no longer had to follow those customs, but I wanted to watch the Terran. Something about him did not feel right. I had no evidence except that each time I looked at him, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“After trying
not
to walk on eggs for three months, let’s just say I’ll think twice before I board another breeding Tingalean,” Davidov said, ending another anecdote about difficult passengers he had transported. “But enough about the trade. I’ve gathered some information about the bounty on your wife.” He took a disc from inside his flight jacket and offered it to Reever. “Basically the signal source is untraceable; the originator used Bartermen channels to transmit the first relay. Whoever wants you, Jarn, knows how to cover his tracks.”

His tone seemed odd—almost as if he admired the trader hunting me. “You assume a male issued the bounty?”

“Figure of speech.” His teeth flashed. “I never assume anything. The Bartermen are also banking the reward and brokering the exchange and, from what I understand, they’re doing it for nothing. Free of charge.”

Reever inserted the disc in the galley terminal and switched on the screen. “There is no such word as ‘free’ in the Bartermen language,” he said as he skimmed the data. “Is this all you were able to find?”

The Terran nodded. “Not much, I know, but based on what there is, I’ll wager every mercenary in the four quadrants is out hunting your beautiful wife.”

Davidov didn’t think I was beautiful. He might have wished me to think so, but his body language was projecting something very different. He didn’t like me and, for some reason, he resented me. Perhaps it was jealousy over my relationship with Reever. The two men had been friends long before I became involved with Duncan.

Or it might be that Davidov didn’t like me simply because of who and what I was. A cloned Terran, created to be the perfect physician.

“I would like to avoid the bounty hunters,” my husband was saying.

“We could let it be known that I was killed by the grenade explosion,” I told my husband. “Squilyp and I can use a little of my DNA to salt some organic ash. Scanners would then read and identify them as my remains.”

Davidov looked intrigued. “A grenade exploded and you weren’t killed?”

“The Jorenians would never support such a deception. ” Reever took my hand in his and squeezed it before he looked across the table at Davidov. “What else have you learned?”

Reever exchanged a quick look with me. “The Odnallak.”

“That’s them.” Davidov turned to me. “I heard you had some problems with them on Vtaga.”

I didn’t consider being choked with Odnallak bone dust or discovering that it had caused hundreds of deaths as “some problems.” “What do you wish to know?”

“I heard an interesting story about them while I was passing through the N-Jui quadrant.” Davidov settled back in his chair. “A long-route hauler and I were having a drink together one night, and after he got pretty well sauced he told me that he’d met one. Spent several weeks onboard a ship with it, in fact. Never knew it was a shifter until the day it left.”

“Where did the Odnallak disembark?” my husband asked.

“That’s the reason I had you meet me here.” Davidov leaned over and tapped the view port. “The shifter got off right here, at Trellus. It’s still down there, too. Evidently it’s been hiding out on the colony ever since it was dropped off.”

Reever frowned. “How could your friend be so sure that it disembarked on Trellus?”

“He brought it here. Damn thing posed as a regularpassenger on his ship. He saw it change shape when it thought no one was watching, just before it strolled down the ramp.” Davidov grinned. “According to him, they’re the only species that can mimic other beings so exactly that you can’t tell the difference between them and the real thing.”

Some of what Davidov said was true, but the Odnallak were not harmless, and neither was their ability to shift form.

“We should go talk to the colonists on Trellus and confirm this rumor,” I said to Reever. When Davidov shook his head, I said, “We will be discreet, of course.”

“They won’t let you land on the surface,” the Terran said. “That’s the other part of the nutty situation down there. Right after the Odnallak landed on Trellus, the colony went into complete and total isolation.”

“Define isolation,” my husband said.

“No one lands, and no one leaves,” Davidov replied. “If any ships approach the colonial docks, they’re fired on by the colony’s battle drones until they leave or they’re destroyed.”

“How can they live like that?” I asked. “The surface is inhospitable. There is no land on which to grow crops or raise livestock. Even with the best synthesizers and recyclers, they must need some food, water, and other supplies.”

“That’s where I come in,” Davidov said. “My friend recommended me to the Trellusan colonial council before they went into quarantine, and they hired me to make a monthly supply drop. They signal me with what they need, and I send a launch down to deliver the shipment. They have me dump it outside the domes, at a drop point near the old mines.”

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