The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga Read online

  “Yes, Consul Vikter, we have, thank you,” Merrick replied. “The Dracons were kind enough to offer a guesthouse for their use.”

  “Very good,” Vikter replied with a nod. “We offer you the use of our ground-car, since we brought it specifically for Dr. Davis and his family anyway. We have no further need for it this day.” He looked back at Michael. “Until tomorrow, Michael. We look forward to working with you.”

  Michael watched in mild surprise as the Vulpirans turned and left before he had a chance to say anything.

  ***

  Vikter Vulpiran walked away from the airfield, his back straight, hands at his sides, eyes forward, Lance and Hunt right behind him, following stiffly. All three of them were struggling with all of their will to maintain an outward appearance of calm. It was only due to their age and experience that they’d been able to hold on as long as they had, but they were perilously close to the edge by the time they reached the bottom of a low hill, blocking their sight of the airfield, and the people on it.

  “Now,” Vikter growled even as he began shifting into his alter-form. The word was not completely out of his mouth before Lance and Hunt began to transform as well. Within seconds three huge creatures that vaguely resembled Earth foxes stood on the blue grass, one red, one black and one white.

  The vulpins were about seven feet high at the shoulder, and sixteen feet long from the tip of their long, narrow noses to the base of their thick bushy tails. Their tails were another six feet in length, giving them a long, almost sleek appearance. They had rather short legs for their size and, oddly, retractable claws, like a cat. The strangest thing about their appearance, however, were the thick, curving horns set just behind their smallish, pointed ears.

  The vulpins stood where they’d transformed, their heads hanging, black noses almost to the ground, sides heaving as though they’d run a great distance. It wasn’t lack of air that had them panting though. It was the adrenaline spiked urge to race back to the airfield and kill the puny human male who had stolen their Arima.

  For a few, brief moments in time they had rejoiced in the knowledge that they had finally found their Arima. They drank her in with their eyes, memorizing each detail of her face and figure as she walked down the stairs and greeted her aunt. In those few, never to be forgotten moments, their hearts claimed her as their own. And then their moment of wonder and joy exploded into a fiery cataclysm with two small words from Michael Davis. My wife.

  The vulpins were just beginning to calm when an errant gust of wind carried to them the rare, exotic scent of night jasmine. Vikter spun around and began racing in the opposite direction, his paws barely touching the ground. He knew that his brothers were right behind him, Lancer on the right, Hunter on the left, as they always were, though he neither saw nor heard them.

  His head felt too full to think, his emotions too sharp and tangled to sort through. So he focused on running, relieved that the Dracon Princes had such a large ranch, and that so much of it was still empty of all but cows, horses, sheep and a healthy population of rabbits and squirrels.

  Vikter had no idea how far they’d run before the second rush of adrenaline, caused by that single faint whiff of their Arima, finally burned itself out. He slowed his pace, raising his head a bit as he looked around, taking notice of their surroundings for the first time since leaving the airfield.

  “How are you two feeling?” he asked his brothers.

  “Better,” Lance replied, while Hunt merely grunted.

  “Are you ready to discuss this or should we run some more?” Vikter asked.

  “I don’t think it’s possible to run far enough or fast enough to escape this problem,” Lance said.

  “I’m willing to try,” Hunt growled.

  Vikter slowed to a walk and looked around before leading Lance and Hunt to the top of a low, grassy hill that would give them a clear vantage point for miles around. Once he reached the top he shifted back to his humanoid form and turned to face Lance and Hunt. Lance shifted, but Hunt walked a few feet away and then paced back before raising his nose into the air and yipping several times, unable to contain his emotions.

  “It is difficult for us too, Hunt,” Vikter said. “Nevertheless, we must determine how we are going to go on from here.”

  Hunt stared at Vikter for a long moment, then shifted back to his humanoid form. “We should catch the next transport back to Berria and remain there until the Davis family leaves Jasan,” he said as soon as he could speak.

  “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me,” Lance said.

  “If our honor were not at stake here, or the future of the Thousand Worlds, I would race you back to the airfield,” Vikter said. “Unfortunately, things are not that simple.”

  “How is our honor at stake?” Hunt demanded. “I admit that ignoring Michael Davis after inviting him here would be rude, but I do not see it as a matter of honor.”

  Lance shook his head. “I wish that I could agree with you, Hunt,” he said. “But, since we went to the Council with our request, and sent the invitation through formal channels to Michael’s superiors, we cannot abandon him without it attracting a lot of unpleasant attention no matter how much we wish to.”

  “Then let’s inform the Council of our situation,” Hunt said. “I have no doubt they will agree to send another male-set here to work with him. We cannot be expected to continue as though nothing out of the ordinary has occurred.”

  “I’m sure that you are correct,” Vikter said. “But is that really what you want to do?”

  “I would not have suggested it otherwise,” Hunt snapped. He closed his mouth, instantly contrite. “I am sorry, brother,” he said. “I’ve no cause to speak so to you.”

  “I understand, Hunt,” Vikter replied. “We are all affected by this situation. But we must think carefully right now. Whatever decision we make we will have to live with forever.”

  “I do not understand why you would even consider remaining here given the situation,” Lance said. “Leaving at once not only has the most appeal, it seems to be our only option.”

  “Does it?” Vikter asked. “Tell me, Lance, once we return to Berria, what then? Will we return to our regular routine? Go to work in the laboratory at the Council Complex, discuss the same topics that we’ve discussed endlessly for decade after decade with the same people, return to our empty house afterward, eat a meal, go for a run in the fields in an effort to make ourselves tired enough that we can sleep, only to rise the following day and begin again. And throughout each moment of each day of the remainder of our lives, will we never think about the woman we know to be our Arima? Will we not wonder what she is like? Who she is? Whether she has a sense of humor? If she is intelligent? What her interests are? What talents she possesses? Will we never worry if she is well, or happy, or safe? Will we be able to forget her simply because we’ve chosen to do so?”

  “She is the wife of a human man,” Hunt growled. “What difference does it make what her interests are? She can never be ours. She has chosen another.”

  “Has she?” Vikter asked softly. Lance and Hunt looked at him sharply.

  “What do you mean?” Lance asked.

  “Fate, my brothers, has decreed that Honor Davis is our Arima,” he said, his dark red brows furrowed in thought. “She is the one woman in time and space meant for us. After hundreds of years of waiting, will you turn your backs and walk away because she did not fall unfettered into our laps like a ripe fruit from a tree?”

  “It is not that simple, Vikter, and you know it,” Lance said.

  “No, I do not,” Vikter argued. “Other than the knowledge that she is meant for us, proven by the extension of our mating fangs, I know nothing. Nor do either of you. After waiting so long for our Arima, I am not willing to turn my back on her without knowing a great deal more than I do at this moment.”

  Hunt walked away, grumbling to himself. Lance looked after him, then turned to Vikter. “I think I understand what you’re saying, Vikter. But
the fact is that she is married and has a child. I do not see how staying here and getting to know her better can possibly change those facts.”

  Vikter ground his teeth with frustration. He had been as shocked, angry and hurt as his brothers when he’d realized that the beautiful woman with a scent like purple night jasmine and a voice like soft, low music, was married. But now that he’d run off the worst of his temper, he wondered if things were perhaps different than they appeared. It made no sense that the Fates would bring her to them after so many years of waiting, and then not allow them to have her. Unfortunately, neither Lance nor Hunt were in any mood to think as he did.

  “Very well,” he said. “Let’s set that matter aside for the moment and return to the issue of our honor.”

  “I believe that Hunt was correct,” Lance said. “The Council will understand, and assign another male-set to take our place.”

  “Probably,” Vikter agreed. “However, as you pointed out, we are the ones who invited Dr. Michael Davis here. We are the ones who sponsored him, and we are the ones who insisted that be allowed to examine the remains of the Xanti. If we turn our backs on him now, and he is either insulted by our behavior and leaves, or is left uncertain, and fails, it will reflect on us no matter what our excuses may be.”

  “I’m willing to accept that,” Hunt said, returning to them.

  “Finding the key to unlocking the Xanti is the only hope we have for saving the Thousand Worlds, including Jasan,” Vikter said. “Our expertise is in biology, and it just isn’t enough. We need a fresh viewpoint. We need someone who can see more than we are able, someone who can get into the Xanti’s mind. We agreed that Dr. Michael Davis was our best chance of doing that. Our best chance of finding the key to unlocking the Xanti. If we insult him, he may leave, and this chance will be lost to us. Are you willing to accept that?”

  Hunt glared at the ground, his fists clenched. Finally he threw his head back and shouted in pure frustration. Then he took a deep breath and bowed to Vikter with perfect politeness. “You are, of course, correct, Vikter,” he said. “We cannot, in honor, abandon our duty.”

  “I find that I must agree,” Lance said. “I wish that I did not. And I have no idea how we are to manage working with the man who is married to our Arima without killing him.”

  “Take a moment to remember of whom you are speaking,” Vikter said. “We were most impressed with that young man on Epsilon III, if you recall. His intelligence, his natural gift for understanding alien races notwithstanding, he was also friendly, self-effacing, and enthusiastic. We liked him, quite a lot, if you will recall.”

  “I do recall,” Hunt said with a sigh. “I want to hate him now.”

  “Hate him for what?” Vikter asked. “What has he done to earn our anger? He surely did not set out to steal our Arima from us. Do you imagine that we have the right to steal her from him, just because we now know that she’s our Arima? She is a person, not a possession, and from the age of their daughter, they have been together for some years.”

  “Your arguments make sense, and are correct, I admit,” Lance said. “I will try, Vikter, to do as you wish.”

  “It is not what I wish, Lance,” Vikter said, suddenly feeling tired. “It is only the truth.”

  “I do not want truth, or sense, nor do I want to care what is right in this matter,” Hunt admitted. “But I acknowledge that you are correct, and I agree that we must do as you say.”

  “Let’s return to the garrison,” Vikter suggested, deciding it was time to end this debate. His brothers had agreed to stay. For now, that was enough. “I’d like to check on the Xanti, then we can go to the cafeteria for dinner.” Without waiting for his brothers to agree, Vikter shifted back into his alter-form and began jogging back the way they had come. A few moments later he sensed Lance and Hunt as they caught up to him and silently took their places just behind him.

  ***

  Summer Katre placed her carefully wrapped music box in her suitcase and closed it, snapping the catches securely. “There, that’s done,” she said, turning to her friend, Darleen Flowers, with a smile. As always Darleen appeared to have no expression on her face at all, but Summer saw the tiny lines at the corner of her eyes and knew that, for Darleen, that was as close to a smile as she generally got.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come to Geroa Island with us?” she asked.

  “I’m sure,” Darleen replied. “You and your Rami have had little enough time alone these past two years. You deserve this time together.”

  “Katre House is huge, Darleen,” Summer said. “I’m sure we can manage some alone time without tripping over you.”

  Darleen’s mouth stretched into a real smile this time. “Thank you for the invitation, Summer,” she said. “If you must know, the heat and humidity of your jungle island are a bit much for me. I’ll do better on the ranch. It’s autumn there.”

  “Will you visit your sister in Granite Falls?” Summer asked.

  “No,” Darleen said. “She hardly knows how to behave around me these days. It’s best if I leave her be.” Darleen saw the worry in Summer’s eyes. There were few people in the Thousand Worlds who truly meant anything to Darleen, and Summer was one of them. Because of that, she tried to think of a way to ease her friend’s worry. “I plan to spend some time with Saige, though,” she said. “She’s about five months pregnant now. I bet she’s huge.”

  Summer smiled, as Darleen had hoped. “Anyone carrying triplets is going to be huge at five months,” Summer said. Only Darleen could have seen the hint of wistfulness in Summer’s chocolate eyes, but she didn’t comment on it.

  “Will you be working with Doc?”

  “Yes, I will,” Darleen replied. “It gives me something to do and I enjoy it. Speaking of which, I should go now. The VTOL to the ranch will be leaving soon.”

  Summer stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her friend in a long hug, pleased when Darleen hugged her back. “You take care of yourself, you hear me?” she asked as she released Darleen and stared directly into her eyes.

  “I hear and I obey,” Darleen said with a tiny smile. Summer laughed, as Darleen had known she would.

  “Je t'aime,” Summer said.

  “I love you, too,” Darleen replied. She picked up her backpack, slung it over her shoulder and left without a backward glance.

  “Darleen will not come with us?” Maxim asked, entering their rooms shortly after Darleen’s departure.

  “No,” Summer replied. “She gave me a few reasons but I think the truth is that she wants us to have time alone together, and she wants to spend time with Doc.”

  “I confess that I do not understand the relationship between her and Doc,” Ran said, entering in time to hear Summer. “They seem to care for one another, but they do not show it.”

  “Doc and Darleen are both wounded people,” Summer said. “They must do things in their own way, in their own time.”

  “Doc is not so wounded as Darleen,” Maxim said as Loni joined them. “Besides, his wounds are old. They’ve had much more time to heal.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Summer said. “His wounds are different, but they are no less deep. You just can’t see his scars as you can Darleen’s, and as you know, scars cannot be healed. Not even by time.”

  “You are so wise,” Loni said, reaching out to caress her cheek. Summer smiled and turned her head to kiss his hand.

  “I’m not wise, Loni,” she said. “I just know things sometimes. And right now, I know it’s time for us to leave.”

  “You’ll get no argument from us on that,” Ran said. “This is all you’re taking?”

  “Everything I own is in that bag, so yes, that’s all I’m taking,” Summer said.

  “We are not very good Rami,” Maxim said, frowning at her single suitcase.

  “Why do you say that?” Summer asked as she reached for her katana and slipped it into her back harness. “I happen to think you’re great Rami.”

  “In
all of the time we have been together, we have never taken you shopping,” Maxim said. “We’ve traveled the breadth of known space over, and you’ve no more now than the day we met you.”

  “We’ve traveled the breadth of known space over rescuing women because I’ve asked it of you,” Summer argued. “Shopping for new clothes is of no importance to me compared with that.”

  “We have agreed to take several weeks off to rest before going to Onddo,” Maxim said. “During this time we will take you shopping for new clothes.” Maxim saw the mutinous expression on Summer’s face, but the days when he guessed wrongly about her thoughts and feelings were long gone. He understood her very well now. “Everyone will believe that we are thoughtless Rami who care nothing for the health, happiness and safety of our Arima.”

  Summer sighed inwardly. After all her men had done for her, traveling for months on end, aiding her to fulfill her vow to rescue every woman enslaved by the Xanti, she would not have others think badly of them. But she wanted to go to the island and rest with her men. Not spend days wandering through shops, trying on clothes.

  “I offer a compromise,” she said.

  Maxim’s expression became wary. Summer was extremely intelligent, and exceedingly clever. One had to be very careful when she began offering bargains, deals, or compromises. “What compromise?”

  “There’s a new tele-fabrication plant in Badia,” she said. “How about I do my shopping on the vid-terminal. When we return to the ranch we can stop in Badia and pick up the order.”

  Maxim thought about that for a few moments. “You must place your order within a week, and have it delivered to the island,” he counter-offered. “That way we will see how much you’ve purchased, and there will still be time to order more if necessary.”

  Summer laughed. Maxim was getting to know her a little too well. “Deal,” she agreed. What the heck, she thought. She loved clothes as much as the next woman. She just had other plans for this little vacation with her Rami. Shopping on the vid-terminal was the perfect solution.