Alien Skies, page 38
part #3 of Wakanreo Series
“I can’t tell if he understands or not,” Grazau said. “Be careful what you say around him.”
“But Grazau,” protested Inchauro, “he’ll be dead soon. You promised me you’d kill him. He must die for defiling my shahgunrah. You said it would be so.”
“Will you shut up!” Grazau screamed at Inchauro. “We need him alive for now. She wants a picture, and she’ll get a picture!”
Inchauro smiled a very unpleasant smile. “All right, Grazau, but let’s give her something to look at.” The tall Wakanrean suddenly reached out a hand and raked Kamuhi’s bare chest with all five claws.
Kamuhi jerked back and cried out from the pain. Blood ran down his body from five deep grooves. Grazau scowled but didn’t look completely displeased.
“That should convince her,” he said. “Dead men don’t bleed.”
They lined Kamuhi up against the wall and took an old fashioned picture, not a hologram. Grazau studied the flat image and was satisfied.
“This will persuade her to cooperate,” he said. He handed it to Rugar. “See that this goes to Muhoun right away. She’ll get it to the parundai.”
Kamuhi had realized they must be talking about Yulayan. He felt fear grip him when he thought about what ‘cooperate’ meant.
Inchauro frowned and went over to stand near Grazau. Kamuhi could barely hear him muttering something to the qatorglynai leader.
Grazau shook his head. “I know she’s still locked up. We can’t help her now. We could only get one of you out, and we needed you.”
Inchauro seemed to have something else on his mind. He spoke even more urgently, but Grazau only scowled.
“We can’t worry about the child now,” he said. “After the abomination has been removed and we’ve dealt with this fijazhai, then we’ll take care of the child.”
Kamuhi felt the fear in his heart grow into panic. Malia! They were going to go after Malia, too! He fought down terror and a growing sense of helplessness.
Grazau walked over to where Kamuhi still stood against the wall. Without warning, the qatorglynai made a fist and punched Kamuhi as hard as he could in the side of the head. Kamuhi reeled and fell back against the wall. Grazau watched him stagger and pull himself upright. He smiled unpleasantly. “So, fijazhai,” he said, “you were in the Duanlana watching us? I wonder if you learned anything?”
Kamuhi said nothing but only stared back at him.
Grazau put his face right in front of Kamuhi’s and spoke in Wisutan. “What were you doing in the Duanlana?” he demanded.
Kamuhi had already decided to say nothing. He couldn’t think of a convincing lie, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to confirm their suspicions that he understood Wisutan.
The Wakanrean raised his hand and hit Kamuhi again, a hard blow to the face this time. Kamuhi’s head snapped back, and he stumbled and fell down on the floor. Grazau hauled him to his feet and repeated the question. When Kamuhi said nothing again, Grazau grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into the stone wall. Kamuhi gasped as his back hit the rough stone wall and the air was forced from his lungs.
The qatorglynai stood back. “Baou!” he called, raising his voice. “Bring me the fijazhai weapon that Inchauro fixed up for us.”
In a few seconds, another Wakanrean came into the room. He was shorter than any of the other three qatorglynai, and his brown body fur was exactly the same color as his head crest. He handed Grazau what looked like a stun gun that had been taken apart and then patched together again. The taller man took it and adjusted a control on one side. Then he held the barrel against Kamuhi’s side and pressed the firing switch.
Kamuhi felt a tremendous jolt of pain surge through him. His entire body jerked reflexively, and he almost fell to the floor.
Grazau grinned at Inchauro. “This could be fun. Bring a chair in here, Baou. We wouldn’t want him to hurt himself falling down.”
When the shorter man had brought the chair, Grazau pushed Kamuhi into it. He leaned over so that his face was only a few centimeters from Kamuhi’s face.
“Now tell me, fijazhai,” Grazau demanded in Standard, “what were you doing in that bar?”
When Kamuhi didn’t answer his question, Grazau held the stun gun against his neck and pressed the switch again.
Kamuhi almost passed out from the pain. He fought desperately for control. It was several seconds before he could see clearly or pay attention to his surroundings. Inchauro and Grazau were arguing in Wisutan.
“Why are you bothering with this?” Inchauro shouted. “Kill him and get it over with—or let me kill him! This fijazhai has possessed the body of my shahgunrahai. He has had a tuzouwai child with her. He has shamed me forever. It is my right to kill him!”
“Shut up, and go away!” Grazau screamed back at him. “I’m not going to kill him until I’m sure we don’t need him anymore. And besides, I might get some information from him, if you will shut up and let me get on with it.”
Kamuhi was woozy from the jolts he had received. He was trying urgently to think, but it wasn’t easy. Whatever mechanism the stun gun used to inflict pain was scrambling his nervous system. A tiny part of his consciousness was aware that this might be a blessing. He realized that he could no longer feel the throbbing in his arm where they had removed the transponder, and he felt nothing from the gashes Inchauro had inflicted on his chest.
Inchauro stormed out of the room, mumbling about injustice. The qatorglynai leader turned back to Kamuhi.
“Now, fijazhai,” he said, in Standard, “you will tell me what you were doing in the Duanlana.”
Kamuhi still didn’t answer. He had reached a stage where his will was concentrated entirely on not speaking. The idea of trying to say something that would fool the Wakanrean was simply too much for him. Grazau held the stun gun against Kamuhi’s stomach and pressed the switch. Kamuhi jerked almost off the chair, but he realized that if anything, the pain was less. He was becoming totally numb.
After three more attempts with no response from the Terran, Grazau began to get frustrated. He handed the weapon back to Baou.
“We’ll forget the fijazhai weapon for the moment and try something a little more old fashioned,” he said. Kamuhi was sitting slumped over in the chair, barely clinging to consciousness. Grazau grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. He turned Kamuhi’s face and then he put out the claws on one hand. He pressed the tip of his thumb claw against Kamuhi’s left cheekbone.
“What were you doing in the bar?” he demanded in Standard again. When Kamuhi said nothing, Grazau dug his claw deep into Kamuhi’s flesh and dragged it down his face from his cheekbone to his chin. Blood gushed, but Kamuhi could barely feel any pain.
Grazau seemed to understand where he had gone wrong. He glowered at Baou who still held the weapon. “The fijazhai has lost all feeling from that thing. Put it away and then keep an eye on him. We’ll try something else tomorrow. I’ll know better than to trust fijazhai tools—or Inchauro Perduay—next time.”
Both Wakanreans left the room, bolting the door behind them. Kamuhi was left sitting in the semi-darkness, feeling sick and dizzy. He thought about trying to stand up to see if he could look out the window, but he decided he was too light-headed.
He tried to clear his mind of pain and concentrate on his situation. They had taken a picture to show Yulayan. They were trying to use him to force her into doing something—most likely removing the implant. Kamuhi prayed fervently that Yulayan would be able to stall them. Since she had been in a position to demand a picture of him, they must not have her in their custody. Kamuhi wished he knew what they had told her to do. If she agreed to remove the implant, his greatest fear was that they would insist on a qatorglynai surgeon who might not know what he was doing.
Had Yulayan told ThreeCon he had been snatched? They would know he was very late getting back. He had told the Security Desk he would be back by noon, and the shadows on the wall showed that it would be dark soon. Kamuhi had faith that either Drushachh or Jared would have figured things out pretty quickly. He only hoped the commander would think to protect Malia.
It seemed to Kamuhi that the room had begun to move slightly. The tiny patch of light above the door was fast growing dim, but it also seemed to be sliding across his field of vision. Kamuhi realized he was about to pass out just as he started to slide from the chair.
YULAYAN stood by the window and looked out onto the garden that surrounded the hospital on three sides. It was dark and the lights had come on in the garden walkways. She heard the sound of the door opening and looked around. Her mother came through the door, one finger raised to her lips to signal silence.
Dina took a small device a little larger than an audio disk and set it on the table by the bed. When she pressed a switch, a tiny light on top glowed green.
“It’s all right,” Dina said, “we can talk. Jared told me not to say anything until I had done that and made sure the light was green and not red.”
“Jared sent you?”
Her mother nodded. “Yes, he had a Security team fetch your father and me from the house, just in case—Kifarao and his family, too. They thought I would be the safest one to come to see you, in case there was a qatorglynai watching you in the hospital.”
“There is someone,” said Yulayan. “A tall woman in a brown cleaner’s tunic. She talked to me earlier, and just now she gave me this.” She handed Dina a picture, an old-fashioned photograph. It showed Kamuhi, in his uniform trousers and boots but no tunic. He was standing up, feet apart and with his hands behind him. His chest was covered with blood.
“At least he’s alive,” Dina said. “May I give this to Jared?”
Yulayan nodded. “He was alive when that was taken. They gave me until tomorrow morning.”
Dina took her daughter’s hands. “What are you going to do, Yulayan?”
“I’m going to let them take out the implant, Elazanai. What else can I do?”
Dina embraced her. “But it’s so dangerous, Yulayan!”
Yulayan pulled away. “I know it is, Elazanai. Believe me, I don’t want to do it. But I have no choice. I can’t let them kill him—I can’t!”
Dina nodded. “I know, dearest. Jared knew you would feel that way, too. He told me to tell you he’s sending a surgeon, a Terran who’s done the implant procedure dozens of times. He wants you to insist that she do the removal. The qatorglynai doctor can be there—watch, whatever—but let Dr. Jung do the actual procedure.”
Yulayan sighed. “I’ll try, Elazanai. I don’t know whether they’ll let me do it that way instead.” She sat down on the bed. “Does Jared have any hope at all of finding him?”
“I think so, dear,” Dina said, stroking her hand. “He didn’t want to tell me too much, but I know they’re all working hard at whatever they can do.”
Yulayan covered her face in her hands. “I just can’t believe it! How did they get Kamuhi? Did he leave the base for some reason?”
Dina sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “He came to see me.”
“What?” Yulayan sat up straight. “He came to see you? Why would he do that?”
“He was worried, dearest. He said you’d had some rough times lately—that his work was putting a strain on things, particularly since you seemed to be jealous of his working with Terran women. He thought I might be able to give him some advice.”
Yulayan looked confused. “Why would you be able to advise him?”
“Well,” said her mother, “I’m a Terran, and your father’s a Wakanrean. In a way, we’ve had a mixed marriage. Kamuhi was just looking for reassurance that it was possible for such a marriage to be sucessful.”
Yulayan sniffed. “I was jealous,” she admitted. “Terrans seem so different. They don’t respect marriage the way we respect shahgunrah. Kam sees so many Terran women at work, and I know some of them wanted him. I didn’t know what to do. What did you tell him, Elazanai?”
Dina smiled. “I told him it was important that you know that he thinks you’re beautiful, Yulayan. He was amazed. He said you must know that because you could look in the mirror any time.”
Yulayan broke down into tears. “It all seems so foolish now. I just want him back. I don’t care about anything else.”
Dina held her for a few minutes, and then stood up to go. “I’d better leave now, dearest. Jared needs to know what’s going on, and I want to give him the picture. Be sure to keep the detection device in your room, but keep it out of sight. I’ll try to come back before morning if Jared thinks it’s advisable.”
“Thank you, Elazanai,” Yulayan said, clutching her mother’s arm.
Dina embraced her one more time and then she left. Yulayan sat alone in her hospital room and wondered what Jared was doing and why he couldn’t find Kamuhi.
WHEN Kamuhi came to, it was dark in the little room. He could see stars in the tiny patch of window, and a dim light that told him that at least one moon was up. He tried moving a little, and found that he was no longer dizzy. He was in a lot of pain, especially from the gash on his face, but he could still move. Slowly, he rolled on one side and was able to sit up. After a few seconds, he tried to stand. It took him a couple of tries but he succeeded. Kamuhi silently blessed Sergeant Quolund for making him learn to get to his feet with one hand tied. It wasn’t that much worse with both of them bound.
He looked down at himself. It was hard to see in the dim light, but he could tell he was a mess. He had bled freely and there was dried blood all over his chest and his trousers. He was filthy from lying on the floor, and he was aware that something smelled worse than the restroom at a public bath. He couldn’t tell if was him or the room.
Next he tried to see out the window, but it was too high up. Kamuhi glanced around the room. No one had taken away the chair. It was still there where Baou had put it. Kamuhi pushed it over to the door and carefully stepped up on it. He was able to see out quite well considering the lack of light. He was in a farm building, some sort of shed attached to a big stone barn. It looked like the same barn the autocab had flown him into earlier.
The dark shape of a farmhouse loomed about twenty meters away. No lights were showing, so either everyone was in bed or the windows were covered. Kamuhi stood on the chair and looked out for several minutes but could see nothing helpful. It looked like an ordinary farm. Kamuhi had seen lots of Wakanrean farms when he was a liaison officer, and this one certainly wouldn’t have attracted his attention for any reason. If there was anything different about it, it was kept under cover.
The Terran sighed and climbed down from the chair. He kicked it back where it had been, and then he sat down on the floor and leaned his back against the wall. He tried to find a comfortable position and finally gave up. He started to think of Yulayan, but it frightened him too much to think what might be happening to her. He mentally changed the subject, and concentrated instead on Jared. What Jared could do to find him?
JARED was, at that moment, wondering if there was anything they could do to find Kamuhi. It was the middle of the night, but the com center was fully staffed. Jared sat in the same little briefing room where he had once sat with Kamuhi when Yulayan was abducted. Now Drushachh and Da Gama sat on either side of the table, along with a handful of experts on different subjects.
“Okay,” Jared said. “Tell me about the picture. What did it tell us?”
A young Shuratanian in a technician’s smock spoke up. “It was a plain, old fashioned two dimensional image, Commander,” she said. “It was undoubtedly taken with an ordinary Wakanrean camera. The camera captures an image as reflections of colored light, and then digitizes it into a series of colored dots. These are then printed out on a sheet of reinforced paper.”
She pressed a control on the panel in front of her. An image appeared on the wall behind Jared. It was the photograph of Kamuhi, but it was so large that gaps appeared between the colored dots. “When we enlarged the picture,” the Shuratanian said, “it looked like this. With computer enhancement, we were able to achieve this image.”
She pressed the control again and the image on the wall changed into a clear, slightly larger than life-size likeness of Kamuhi. Jared turned and studied it.
The claw marks on his chest were clearly visible. So was the gash on his left arm. “Dr. Howell,” Jared said, “what can you tell us about Lieutenant Hailoaka from this picture?”
The doctor was a Terran man about Jared’s age. He had already seen a copy of the enhanced picture.
“It’s plain that the qatorglynai have abused him, Commander,” he said. “The marks on his chest were unquestionably made by Wakanrean claws. The number and spacing, along with the ragged edges of the wounds, make that clear. From the amount of blood and the appearance of the wounds, I would say they were painful but not serious. If they were not treated, there would be a danger of infection, but that’s all. The wound to the arm is also not serious except for the possibility of infection. It seems to have been made by a rather brutal removal of the subcutaneous transponder that had been implanted there.”
“What about the other transponder?” Jared said. “Can you tell if they found that?”
“They don’t appear to have,” the doctor said. “If you look at a close-up of the chest,” he nodded at the Shuratanian who pressed the control and the picture changed again, “you can see the faint tiny scar where we implanted the transponder in the chest cavity. Although there are gashes across the chest, they’re not deep enough to have come near the transponder.”
Jared nodded. “Other than the obvious physical abuse, how does he look?”
“He seems in reasonable shape,” the Terran doctor said. “There’s a slight glassiness to his eyes, but that most likely comes from being either stunned or sedated. He’s a young man in good health, and at the time this picture was taken, he had no life threatening condition that we can see.”
Jared nodded again. “Thank you, Dr. Howell.”
