The Last Narkoy: Gathow: Book 2 Page 9

  “Was he still with Nercon at the time?” Sedom asked, already knowing the answer.

  Ratisha shrugged. “I was a young scientist with raging hormones. I questioned everything except my love affair. It wasn't until later when he brought his young son to live with us that I learned the truth. By then it was too late.”

  “Who’s Nercon?” Rosanheer asked.

  Zion motioned to Sedom. “She was a Rycal officer who was assigned to protect Sortec after the Marisheio took over Matrador.”

  Qilo nodded. “Tomcan Nercon, I met her once,” he mentioned, gaining everyone's attention. He had been silent up until then. “Not someone I'd want to face on the battlefield. If she was your protector, I understand now how you know how to fight.”

  Sedom shrugged, trying to distance herself from the conversation. Iya Nercon was the last thing she wanted to think about. It had been nearly two years since the murder of her protectors, yet the image of their dying faces still clung heavily in her thoughts. It wasn’t something she needed to focus on at the moment. What she did need to focus on was reaching Gathow before moonlight.

  “She had her flaws,” she stated cryptically, then walked ahead as if to momentarily escape the conversation.

  Ratisha looked into Zion's eyes, questioning Sedom strange behavior. “What was that all about?”

  Zion looked away from Ratisha, watching Sedom with concern. “Nercon went insane, so I understand from clips of Sortec’s conversations. One of those pieces of her history she doesn’t go into detail about.” He held her tighter against his chest. “Try to relax. The more you tense your muscles the more your body will suffer. Sortec can't block everything from you.”

  “You show concern for me, why?” she asked in a whisper.

  Sedom allowed Zion to catch up a little, her curiosity piqued. Then she realized the other two men were doing the same thing. Would Zion formally admit to why he was treating her kind?

  Zion cleared his throat, unnerved by the group’s curiosity. “You remind me of someone I lost a long time ago,” he said low.

  She reached to his cheek, forcing him to turn to her. “Who?”

  “Another time,” he said, smiling back. He glanced at the group, his smile turning into a smirk. “You all know me well enough to know I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

  “And here I thought we'd have a good story to gnaw on,” Rosanheer griped. “Sortec, how far is it to the tunnels?”

  Sedom pointed to the mountain of vines before them. “We’re here. Qilo, would you do the honors?” she requested, pointing to the entry. Vines had already covered the entry over again.

  Qilo removed his machete, swiping it over the vines. The vines fell away, allowing them to enter.

  SIX

  Rosanheer carried Ratisha inside the infirmary, setting her on one of the medical tables. Evolanc poked her head out of the office, her face brightening with panic over seeing the two unfamiliar Cloves. She grabbed her pistol. Her aged hands shook as she raised the pistol to aim at the intruders.

  Sedom took hold of Evolanc’s pistol, removing it from her hands. “It's okay, Evolanc. They're with me,” she explained. “He’s hurt, see to his wounds also,” she ordered.

  Evolanc’s hand flew to her beating heart. “Oh, thank the heavens,” she gasped. “Please, warn me next time. It’s so quiet; I do tend to be a bit jumpy.” She hurried over to Ratisha, noticing the woman's condition. “You must be Ratisha,” Evolanc asked.

  Ratisha nodded several times, trying to hold back her pain. Evolanc held an air syringe to her neck. She fell back against the bed, her body relaxing.

  Evolanc turned to Rosanheer, her eyes widened when she noticed his tattoos. “And you are?”

  “Rosanheer,” he introduced, offering her his hand to shake.

  “How bad are you?” Evolanc asked. Rosanheer lifted his shirt to show her his wound. “Sortec healed you, I see. Come back in an hour and I’ll have Dr. Noral look at you.” Evolanc waved him aside. “Meanwhile, go shower. You’re stinking up the infirmary,” she snipped.

  Sedom chuckled to herself. “She has a point. Come on, let’s go clean up.” She waved Rosanheer to follow her out of the infirmary. Outside, she noticed the lights were abnormally dim. She would have to ask about that later. “Good work out there.”

  “Thanks, Chadon,” Rosanheer replied. “If it’s all the same, I think I’ll grab some food first.” Yes, he might have smelled horrible, but his stomach owned a louder voice.

  “I’ll join you,” Sedom decided, hearing her own stomach rumble. They continued over to the cafeteria, finding the rest of their crew, including Cidele. She waved them over to their table.

  “Replicators are online in thirty percent of the city. Order anything you want,” Cidele announced.

  “Good to hear. Now, what the hell is going on with the sun?” Sedom asked as she grabbed a tray.

  Cidele glanced to the cafeteria doors. “Dranium rebooted Gathow’s computer systems. There was a malfunction that had something to do with a computer virus your grandmother ordered to keep intruders from entering Gathow. I guess it’s taking longer for it to come online.”

  Sedom ordered a large bowl of stew. To her amazement, a bowl of stew appeared on the replicator’s platform. “I’m impressed. I never knew what I was going to get before.”

  “Good,” Cidele gleamed, almost bouncy. “I also took the liberties of replacing your furniture in your unit. I’m also in the process of redecorating several of the other units, just in case we have more visitors.”

  Sedom nodded several times as she carried her tray over to the group. “Good, good. Keep it up. I’ll have Garric help you. The more units we have available, the more opportunities we’ll have to fill them,” she said as she sat.

  Rosanheer sat across from Sedom, between Qilo and Zion. “Are you actively looking for more people to join the Tasgool?”

  Everyone in the group turned to Rosanheer.

  “Tasgool?” Zion questioned.

  Rosanheer nodded as he ate. “That is what the Narkoy call their military, right?”

  “You have to have one before it can be called by its proper name,” Sedom muttered as she picked at her stew. “I’m surprised you knew the name. The goal is to build an army, yes,” she said within a yawn. “Oh, ah, you know, gentlemen, I’ll catch up with you later.” She stood, grabbing her bowl of stew from her tray.

  When Sedom returned to her housing, she was amused to find all of her furniture had been replaced, save for her bookshelves. In her living room now sat a long, ruby sofa with big, fluffy arms. Next to that, a patterned armchair with marking she recognized from her own grandmother’s office chair. There was a coffee table in front of the sofa along with a teapot and two tea cups.

  Her body sunk into the sofa, her head falling back against the armrest. Her eyes closed. When they opened, a cup of hot, steaming tea sat on the coffee table. A soft, yellow blanket was lying over her body.

  “You’re awake?” Garric asked from the doorway.

  Sedom nodded as she yawned. “I can’t believe Cidele did all this while we were gone. This is amazing,” Sedom hummed.

  “I provided her with the color scheme,” Garric mentioned. He set her stew on the table before her. “I reheated it for you. I figured you’d be starving.”

  Sedom grabbed the bowl, gulping down the stew with mad intensity. “Thanks. I had to…” she wiped her mouth with her shoulder, “…heal Ratisha on the way back. It took a lot out of me. Have you heard any news from Evolanc?”

  “Only that Noral needs to speak with you, once you’ve regained consciousness,” he jabbed. “You have to pass-out before you’ll ever sleep.”

  Sedom shrugged. “When you’ve seen what I have…” she paused, setting her food back on the table. “Well, I guess you have,” she said, her mind drifting. She shook herself back to reality. “I better go see what Noral wants.”

  “What about eating?” Garric questioned from the other room. When he turn
ed to hear Sedom’s response, she was already out the door.

  Sedom strolled inside the quiet infirmary. At first, she wondered if anyone was there. She happened to know Noral had been sleeping in his office on an old cot he found, so the odds of him being there were good.

  “Anyone here?” Sedom called out.

  “In here,” Noral’s voice called back, echoing down the long hall leading to the back of the infirmary.

  Sedom rounded the corner to the back where they kept private rooms. She found Noral standing next to Ratisha's bed, chatting about medicine.

  “There you are. I forgot how big this place is. How's the patient?” Sedom asked.

  “Not. We’re discussing treatment options,” Noral mused.

  “I should have a right to choose,” Ratisha called back.

  “Sortec, stop bringing doctors into Gathow,” he joked back.

  Sedom caressed Ratisha's upper arm. “Someone has to keep you on your toes,” she joked. “Besides, we need her expertise.”

  Lines on Ratisha's forehead creased. “Expertise?”

  Sedom glanced over at Noral who did not bother to look back at her. “Later. For now, we have to get you back on your feet.”

  Ratisha grabbed Sedom's wrist, forcing her closer so she could look into her eyes. “How long have you had the symptoms?” she asked.

  Sedom blinked several times, attempting to maintain her composure. She calmly forced Ratisha's hand away. “I’m fine. Noral and Evolanc have helped keep them under control, but…” Sedom trailed off, glancing to Noral to explain further.

  “We believe that the Matrads have contracted a variation of the plague, which is being passed to the Crehail,” he explained.

  Ratisha released Sedom's hand. “So rescuing me wasn't entirely an errand of mercy?” she surmised.

  Tong-in-cheek Sedom shook her head. “I didn't know you were still alive until I heard your name mentioned in conjunction with the plague. If I had known…”

  Ratisha raised her hand to silence Sedom. “It sounds like I have a job to do. It’s sad it takes millions dying to save my life.”

  “The universe is a mystery,” Noral surmised. “Now, tell this woman, it's safer to live a fuller life in a hover chair than hoping for a miracle. The evasive surgery that she wants may leave her dead or paralyzed for the rest of her life.”

  Sedom's face grew stern. “Hover chair is your only option. I didn't rescue you so you can die on the operating table.”

  “Sedom, it's my choice. I don't want to live in a chair for the rest of my life,” Ratisha protested, her teeth bared. “How would you feel if you were me?”

  “Grateful to be alive,” Sedom smarted back. “Find a cure for this disease, which you helped create, and maybe I'll allow it. For now, figure out a way to make it work,” Sedom ordered. She turned to Noral. “Come to my quarters later. I have some information I want to go over with you.”

  Noral nodded, his hand on Ratisha's shoulder, keeping her from hurting herself. “Of course, Chadon.”

  Sedom gave Ratisha one last glance, leaving without saying another word. The regret and hatred on Ratisha's face was clear enough that anything else she would say would be wasted.

  Noral turned back to Ratisha. “You help create this?” he asked sternly.

  ”In a different time, when I was a different person,” Ratisha admitted. “But I don't know how she knew about that.”

  Outside the infirmary, Rosanheer was sitting on a wall, waiting for Sedom to emerge. He stood and hurried over to her. She paused, focusing her vision on him, finally realizing something about the man.

  “You're Zalmin?” she surmised, looking into his eyes. It was the first time she realized the man did not have black eyes like a Clove, but bright green eyes.

  He nodded, a sense of amusement clinging to his lips. He blinked, turning his eyes orange and then blinked again turning them back to green. Sedom chuckled, amused. “High and low beams so I can see in different light. My father was Clove, mother Zalmin. I, unfortunately, inherited the brunt of my father's charming looks.”

  “Sorry to hear. I thought you'd be long gone,” she admitted. It was rather odd the man was sticking around, considering the large firestone she paid him.

  “I wanted to talk to you before I left. It was a pleasure working with you and I would like the opportunity to do so in the future,” he stated as they walked down the dark street of Gathow.

  A lone street sweeper rolled by, causing Sedom to wonder where it came from. She knew Gathow housed a number of service droids, but this was the first one she had ever seen since she arrived.

  “Interesting,” she murmured to herself. “Uh, yes… you're an interrogator, right?” she asked, her thoughts turned from the droid to finding food in the cafeteria.

  “Yes, I was an interrogator. I had too many situations I had to deal with, similar to the situation with your friend we rescued. I started questioning superiors and they didn't like it. The only solution was to do what I'm doing now,” he explained. He paused, glancing around Gathow. “Well, that's only half of the story. I won't bore you with the other half.”

  “How about another time? You can read minds?” she asked out of curiosity.

  “Some, yes, depending on the species. I mostly feel emotions. I can tell when people are lying or hiding the truth. My mind-reading talents are not as pronounced as your friend Zion. Other talents, though…” he admitted.

  “I’ve seen.” Sedom turned to him, looking into his eyes. “And if I ask you, in all honesty, if you trusted the man before me, what would you tell me?”

  Rosanheer pierced his dark lips nervously. “I would tell you, like most Clove, you should be wary. Trust is earned, not given. You should research my past before making any commitments. I know who I am now, but you may not like who I used to be. And if you feel you cannot trust me, then I would prefer we part ways as friends. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I will be your humble servant.”

  “Huh. Not the answer I expected. Now you have me curious,” she admitted.

  Rosanheer held out his arm, forcing Sedom to remain on the curb as another street sweeper rolled by. “Those are new,” he mentioned.

  “Yes, they are. Very well, we could use someone like you,” she stated, her hand on the cafeteria door. “You're welcome to stick around, if you want to wait until I research your background.”

  “You would allow me?” he asked amused. “I’ll take you up on your offer. I can see great potential here.”

  Sedom grinned. “Says you and everyone else who’s ever visited here. I'm planning on building an army. If you can help in the process, all the better.” She motioned for him to follow her into the cafeteria. “All I ask, for now, is to keep yourself from entering any restricted areas. The orbs can be a bit testy.”

  “Understood, Chadon,” he said with a nod.

  Once again, she noticed Zion and Lolum sitting at a table, eating mid meal alongside Evolanc and Cidele. It was odd to see Dranuim was not with them.

  “Hey everyone, this is Rosanheer. He came to help Zion's friend Qilo,” Sedom introduced.

  Lolum rose, taking his hand. “Lolum. Zion told us what happened. Good work out there.”

  Rosanheer nodded. “Thank you.”

  Sedom continued, pointing to the group. “Cidele and you've met Evolanc.”

  Evolanc stood also taking the man's hand in friendship. “Yes. Again, sorry about the pistol,” she mentioned.

  “If the situation was reversed, I would have done the same,” he grinned back. “Good to meet you… officially.”

  Sedom rested her hands on Zion's shoulders. “Our new friend has decided to stay and lend us a hand. Normally I would say no, but since he's crazy enough to almost die helping us free Ratisha, I figure why not.”

  Cidele shook her head, disturbed by Sedom’s sudden announcement. She took her tray and walked away from the table without saying a word.

  Rosanheer glanced over at Sedom as if to ask i
f he had done anything wrong. A deep heaviness centered over Sedom's heart. “Damn,” Sedom gulped. “I'll go talk to her,” she decided.

  “Won't help,” Lolum added as Sedom chased after Cidele. He waved for Rosanheer to take Cidele's seat. “Her sister was raped and murdered by a group of Clove Marisheio last spring. They fought over Sedom allowing Garric to remain here in Gathow. Now Sedom brings you and Ratisha here… Cidele isn't taking it well,” he explained to Rosanheer.

  Sedom chased Cidele into the arboretum. “Cidele, wait up. We need to talk.”

  “What's there to talk about? You made your decision,” Cidele barked back. “I'm only wondering if you're going to allow the entire Marisheio Empire to enter Gathow. If so, why the hell are we hiding?”

  “I understand you're frustrated,” Sedom called back, still unable to keep up with her.

  “Frustrated?” Cidele paused, turning to Sedom. Tears streaked down her cheeks. “You didn't see your sister violated and murdered by those creatures!” She screamed, pointing in the direction of where they came from.

  “No, my mother was,” Sedom stated calmly. “I am the last of my people, primarily because of the Clove and the Marisheio. But I can also blame the Mandicien and the Dormin, and any other race that fights alongside the Marisheio. I could even blame you for being Crehail because one Crehail man tried to turn me into the Marisheio for a ransom. We can blame and blame, but it won't get us anywhere. Ratisha saved my life and because of that, she was tortured. Rosanheer helped me save her and risked his life for me and our cause. I am beyond the color of one's skin or what planet they were born on. What concerns me most now is honor and character.”

  Cidele slapped her hand across a tree to vent her frustration. “I can't. I'm not strong like you. I look at them, their cold eyes, their harsh voices and all I can see is my sister's body lying in a puddle of blood in the street. She was so kind, so beautiful and… and she was my best friend. She was the last real family I had and those monsters took her away from me.”

  “And what, Cidele? She's gone. So are a lot of people. I've killed hundreds now, none of which will ever return to their families. Their families feel the same about me as you about them. We are at war… and war knows only hatred, regardless of if it’s true or right. Less than a full-turn ago I would have gladly killed Garric. Now, I find that he's not such a bad man after all. People choose these paths and force others to follow.”