Plague of Memory Read online

  “There is more,” Teulon said. “TssVar stated that if you do not go to Vtaga, the Hsktskt will cease negotiations and resume hostilities with League forces at once. As a SubAkade and the only supporter among Faction leaders for the peace talks, we believe he can make this come about.”

  “Have you reminded the Hsktskt of the crystals?” I asked.

  During the rebellion on Akkabarr, Teulon had acquired the Toskald’s greatest treasure: crystals permanently etched with command codes that controlled the militaries of ten thousand worlds. The crystals had ended the war between the League and Hsktskt. No one knew that the Raktar had since placed them beyond the reach of himself or any being.

  “SubAkade TssVar believes that if you do not go to Vtaga, the Hsktskt will perish. By plague or by crystal, it matters not to them.” Teulon sounded as tired as he looked. “I have used every argument I can. He will not listen to me.”

  I felt cold. “What are your orders, Raktar?”

  “No orders, my friend.” Another smile, this one sad and resigned. “Your life is your own now, Jarn. You are slave to no one.”

  Except to Cherijo’s past. I thought of all Garphawayn had told me, and something clenched inside me. “Reever and the Torin will not allow me to go.”

  “I anticipated as much. Use this.” He displayed a signal code sequence on the screen. “It cannot be blocked or monitored. Should anyone interfere, they will help you.”

  I memorized the sequence. “I thank you for it. Teulon…” There was so much I wished to say to him. “I am sorry Peace should not rest on the will of one person.”

  “As I know from experience.” He touched the screen again. “If you have need of me, signal. I will come to you.” His face vanished from the screen.

  With it, a remote-connection light flickered off. I knew enough about the console equipment to realize what they were doing. I should have expected this. I could not use the equipment for what I needed, and if I did not hurry even that avenue of appeal might be denied me, so I left Reever’s quarters to go directly to communications.

  “Healer.” Salo Torin met me at the entry. “Is something—”

  “From the light on my panel, I know that you recorded my exchange just now with Raktar Teuton,” I said, noting the immediate guilt that crossed his features. “Which one of them told you to monitor my relays? The captain, or my husband?”

  “Both. Your pardon, Healer, but I must follow my orders, even when I do not agree with them.” His dark brows drew together. “You wish to dispute this? I will happily add my objections to yours.”

  “Another time, perhaps. At the moment, I need to send a relay to the code the Raktar gave to me.” I did not recite it, for he already had a copy of the signal.

  “You might have done that from your quarters.”

  “I should like to send it without being monitored or recorded.” I gestured toward his station. “May I do so, and use one of your terminals?” I needed to offer something in return. “I would provide ease for you, if you wish.”

  “We do not … ah, no, I cannot permit either.” He hesitated, and then checked the deck above us. “I must perform a routine diagnostic scan on the encryption hardware in the transponder control center. It will keep me occupied for the next hour. During that time, I would not see anyone who made use of the equipment here.”

  “So you would not.” We understood each other perfectly. “I thank you.”

  I waited until Salo had disappeared before I went to an open terminal and input the relay sequence. The code opened a priority crisis relay channel between the Sunlace and the planet Joren. There was no display this time, only a male Jorenian voice identifying himself as adjunct to the Ruling Council, and requesting a statement of the emergency.

  “This is Cherijo Torin,” I said, glad for once to use her name. “I have been told that I am a member of this council, and I would speak on a matter of great importance.”

  “Healer Torin, the council is present and monitoring your relay,” a female voice said. “Tell us how we may be of aid.”

  I related the details of my conversation with Teulon, and the decisions being made for me by the Torin and Reever. “Under the present circumstances, I would know what I am permitted to do of my own accord.”

  “As a member of the Ruling Council, you have absolute sovereignty over HouseClan Torin,” the female told me. “You have but to issue the order to take you to Vtaga, and the captain will obey you. Should he not, he will be removed from command by our authority.”

  So the female Omorr had been correct in her assessment of my rights. “The ensleg—the men on the ship—they question my ability to make informed decisions. They feel that with my memory loss I am incapable of such.”

  “We see no evidence of this from the medical reports issued by Senior Healer Squilyp,” the female said. “ClanLeader Jado has communicated the gravity of the situation to us. Know you what will happen should SubAkade TssVar follow through on the ultimatum he has offered?”

  An end to slavery, or more war. “I understand the consequences, Council Member.”

  “We cannot compel you to go to Vtaga, Healer Torin. We can only urge you to do so.” The female made a soft sound like a sigh. “It is our hope that you will.”

  There was more I had to ask, and the answers were immediate and positive. When I was satisfied that I had enough information, I thanked the council, terminated the relay, and went to speak to Salo. After discontinuing his pretend inspection and listening to what I had to say, he insisted on accompanying me to the command center. I paused only long enough to signal Reever and ask him to meet me there.

  “You are certain this is what you wish to do, Healer?” he asked me just before we went into the lift.

  “I am not certain of anything.” How bitter that was, now that I knew why my former self had been created, and how hard she had fought that fate. I was a woman made from a man—how did I cope with that? “One cannot walk two paths, is that not what you said?”

  “Perhaps I have said too much,” he said as we went in to see the captain.

  Reever was with Xonea, and looked rather agitated. “You were not in our quarters. I was concerned—”

  “I am well.” I turned to face Xonea. I had been made from a man, thus I would assert my authority as a man would. “Captain Torin, you must alter the ship’s course and take me to Vtaga.”

  Impatience filled his eyes. “You cannot go there. It is too dangerous.” He looked at Duncan. “Did you not explain this to her?”

  “Raktar Teulon signaled me about a serious development at the peace talks.” I quickly explained TssVar’s ultimatum, and added, “If I do not go, the Hsktskt will go back to warring with the League. Thus, I must go.”

  “Teulon does not comprehend what he asks of you,” Reever said. “I will signal him and explain the blood bounty. He will make no more demands.”

  “No, you will not signal the Raktar.” I ignored the impulse to drop to the floor and kept my spine straight, the same way a man would. “This demand is made of me, not you. I have the skill to accomplish this task. I decide whether to go or not. I say that I will go.”

  A muscle ticked on the side of Reever’s jaw. “They will execute you, Jarn.”

  “They are dying. This is my work. Why should they murder the one who may help them live? I am told that I cannot be killed so easily, should they try.” I addressed Xonea again. “You will take me to Vtaga now.”

  “I cannot do this, Cherijo,” he told me. “You do not appreciate the—”

  I looked at Salo. “How do I remove him from command? Do I simply say the words?” Salo nodded. To Xonea, I said, “You will take me to Vtaga or I will remove you from command and make another serve in your place.” I was not sure who I would make captain, but surely Salo would advise me.

  Xonea’s hands curled. “You do not have command of this ship.”

  “As a member of the Ruling Council, she does, Captain.” Salo made a very formal-looking g
esture. “She has the full support of the rest of the council.”

  “She has never spoken to …” Xonea gave Salo a furious glare. “You permitted her to send an unmonitored signal?”

  “I did so without his aid or his permission.” I regarded the captain steadily. “Will you take me to Vtaga or not?”

  Xonea glanced from me to my husband, and then gave me a very reluctant nod.

  “No. I won’t let you.” Reever latched onto me with a hard grip. “You’ve wasted enough of your life. You don’t have to go. You no longer serve Teuton.”

  “As you have said, Husband, I no longer serve anyone.” I glanced down at his hand, and he released me. To the captain, I said, “How long will it take for the ship to make the journey there?”

  “If we use transition,” Xonea said, “three days.”

  “Use transition.” I walked out of the command center.

  I knew Reever had every reason to be furious with me, so I did not return to his—our—quarters. Instead, I went to the deck where a great many members of the crew gathered to obtain wall food and share their meal intervals. I looked around, but I did not see the talking cat. The beast might be considered a person, but I was not going to eat near it. It might favor a bite of me over those pretend vegetables. I selected something my former self had kept programmed on the wall machine, and carried it to an empty table.

  A big, muscular Jorenian female came over to me before I sat down. Like me, she held a tray of the wall food. “My name is Darea Torin. I am Salo’s bondmate.”

  Fasala’s ClanMother, I thought as I looked up at her. Like all the other females on the Sunlace, she was black-haired and blue-skinned, but she had the same direct, piercing gaze as an experienced hunter. She also wore her hair coiled and knotted in what Reever called a warrior’s knot. “I am Jarn.”

  She knew me—Cherijo had written several times of her friendship with this woman—but she showed no surprise at the name I offered. “May I share my meal with you, Healer Jarn?”

  Fasala had told me that her ClanMother and ClanFather preferred to eat in their quarters, which made Darea’s presence and request a little suspicious. Still, the woman seemed not as joyously friendly as some of the other females on this ship, and I had no reason to dine alone.

  “Yes.” I sat down and regarded my selections. Broth, bread, and some chopped, cooked pretend vegetables. I knew from past experience that I could not stomach anything from the submenu Cherijo had designated “dessert” as the dishes were all too sweet for my palate. Beverages had also been tricky in the beginning, but through trial and error I had learned which teas would not turn my stomach.

  Darea ignored her own selections to watch me tear the bread into chunks.

  “You wish to speak with me about something?” I had not bothered with utensils; I always spilled and dropped things when I tried to use them. If my eating with my hands and fingers offended her, she could move to sit with someone else.

  Her shoulders lifted slightly. “You do not seem very interested in having conversations.”

  “My people—the Iisleg—do not indulge in much casual talk. Here on the ship I have had more practice with listening.” I tried to think of an interesting topic. “Your mate did a favor for me but refused my offer to couple with him. Did you know that I was made from a man?”

  Darea blinked. “We are all made from men and women,” she said, very matter-of-fact. “Why would you wish my mate to couple with you?”

  “I did not wish it; it was to return the favor. It is the way of my people. I am not like you, though. I came from a man and machines.” I dipped a chunk of bread in the broth and sampled it. The unfamiliar taste and spices made me grimace. “Dævena yepa, this is disgusting. Do you care for something called minestrone soup?”

  “I do not think so.” Darea wrinkled her nose. “It smells odd, and it looks too red and wet.”

  I liked her better for that. “Excuse me.” I went to dispose of the soup and returned. “What is that?” I asked, nodding toward what appeared to be a small pile of white and blue flower petals and dark brown shoots on her dish.

  “C’nabba and gnika-la. They are fresh, not synthetic.” She offered me a sample, which tested a little like the ice plants that grew around the edges of vent shafts. “We grow some foods on the ship, on the hydroponics deck.”

  “My daughter has spoken of it.” I made a mental note of the names, and then something occurred to me. “You do not grow children in machines there, do you?”

  “No.” Darea smiled. “We reproduce by natural means. What you call coupling. It is our custom to be exclusive to each other as well, so you need not offer to couple with any other crew member who does a favor for you.”

  I felt as if a huge weight lifted from my neck. “I begin to like your customs, Jorenian.”

  We continued our meals in silence, but as others came into the galley we became the subject of many speculative looks. No one approached, but many held murmured conversations after spotting us.

  “Where do you serve on the ship?” I asked her, mainly to block out the attention being given to us.

  “I was a data archivist when I first came to the HouseClan, but now I supervise central processing and technical support.” She sipped tea from her server. “It is my responsibility to ensure data and archival integrity at all levels.”

  Everything on the Sunlace depended on data systems, computers, and other related technology. It amazed me that the ensleg would permit a mere woman to oversee it, but this was what Garphawayn had insisted they did. “Do you like what you do?”

  “It is challenging, but I would not be content with anything else.” She met my gaze. “What of your work? My bondmate tells me that you were a battlefield surgeon during the rebellion on Akkabarr.”

  “I was.” She was speaking to me, not Cherijo. She saw me as a real person, not the flesh left behind by the spirit of one she had known. My pleasure at that warmed away some of the coldness in my heart. “Without healers, people die. With healers, some yet die. It is a struggle to be content with such work.”

  “I doubt you will find any contentment among the Hsktskt.” She gazed around us and frowned twice at particular individuals. “Or, soon, my bond-mate’s HouseClan. Word of what you mean to do has spread quickly.”

  It was then that I saw her motive for coming to me. Darea was not simply sharing a meal. She was keeping the others away from me.

  Salo was fortunate in his choice of women. I was glad he had not pressed me to couple with him.

  “I will not endanger the people on this ship,” I said. “If need be, I will take a launch and go to Vtaga alone.” Given Reever’s attitude, that might be the wisest course of action.

  “You have become a telepath?” She tried to sound amused, but there was too much worry in her eyes. “Your pardon, Healer. When Salo spoke of your decision, I could only think of Fasala and the other children on board the ship.”

  “I, too, am tempted to think only of them, as well as my own child. Yet if there is war, then the Hsktskt will kill many more daughters and sons.” All the talk around us had ceased, and the others were listening. I did not bother to murmur as they had. “I saw too much of death during the rebellion on Akkabarr. If I can do nothing else with this life, I will use it to stop another war.”

  Her white eyes softened. “Then your House will stand with you.”

  All around us expressions changed, and heads nodded before people went back to eating and conversing in a normal fashion.

  “I would ask two favors of you,” I said to Salo’s mate. “Would you look after my child while I am on Vtaga?”

  Darea finally smiled. “Of course I will. Salo and I honor Marel as if she were our own ClanDaughter. How else may I help you?”

  My cheeks grew hot and I lowered my voice. “Will you tell me what, exactly, transition is?”

  I knew that Reever would become impatient if he were waiting for me, so after Darea explained how transition used differen
t dimensions to move the ship over great distances, I went to confront him. Neither he nor Marel were in our quarters when I arrived, which made my heart grow cold.

  He has taken her from me.

  I hurried over to the console to make a computer inquiry as to their location, but before I could finish inputting the request, Reever entered and secured the door.

  I saw no anger in his expression, but that meant nothing. Reever did not show his emotions on his face. He came toward me, but as I braced myself he walked past and went to the wall machine. “Marel is spending the night with Garphawayn and Squilyp.”

  “There is no need.” Although I was relieved to know Darea would look after Marel while I was on Vtaga, I disliked having others care for my child when I could. “I will go and fetch her.”

  “She is asleep by now. You were out all day. You must be tired.” He began using the machine to prepare a meal. “Would you prefer hot or cold tea?”

  “I am not thirsty.” Why was he behaving like this? Why was he not shouting at me? Did the man truly have ice for blood? “I ate in the place where all the crew gathers to share food and conversation.”

  “It’s called the galley.” He reprogrammed his selections and filled a server with a murky-looking liquid. That was all he brought from the machine to the table where we ate our meals. “You should go to bed.”

  “I am not interested in sleeping. Darea said she would care for Marel when we go to Vtaga.” I sat across from him. “Did you know there is a giant cat on this ship that walks on two legs and talks?”

  “Alunthri.” He nodded, but kept his head down, so I couldn’t see his expression.

  “That beast scared the wits from me when I met it today. I thought I might jump through a wall panel. Reever, I know you are angry with me. I also think you will not beat me for what I have done. We should”—what was the way he always said it?—“discuss this.”