The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga Page 4

  She felt a light nudge at her hip and looked down into Tiny’s intelligent eyes. “Hello, Tiny,” she said, scratching his ears the way he liked. “I see you’re keeping an eye on the girls.”

  She felt a slight buzzing sensation in her mind and smiled. “Yes, they are precious,” she said. “I’m going out for a little while, so please keep a close eye on them for me.”

  Tiny pressed his head against her hip again and wagged his tail.

  “Just down to visit Hope Bearen and maybe Saige Lobo,” she said in response to another buzzing.

  Satisfied, Tiny went back to his favorite spot on the patio, which gave him a clear view of the entire garden and the young princesses, and laid down. Lariah sent him a mental hug, then stepped off the patio.

  “Are you going somewhere, Mommy?” Salene asked from the top of a slide.

  “Yes, I am,” Lariah said. “I’m going to go visit Hope Bearen for a little while. I won’t be gone long.”

  “Can we come, Mommy?” Rayne asked.

  “Not today, love,” Lariah said. “I’m going to fly.”

  “Can we watch you shift, Mommy?” Salene asked hopefully. “Please?”

  “Yes, of course you can,” Lariah replied. She walked around the sandy area and down a stone walkway until she was a safe distance from her daughters. She watched as the girls gathered near the swing, then she took two running steps and jumped, shifting quickly into her fifteen foot long, leopard spotted dracon, her twenty foot wide wings snapped out and within seconds she was climbing into the sky.

  Remembering Garen’s request that she fly low, she resisted the urge to soar among the clouds and instead circled the garden just above the house. She looked down at her daughters, smiling inwardly as they jumped up and down in excitement. She knew that they wished they could fly, and she’d been worried there’d be some jealousy from them when they discovered that their new baby brothers shifted into dracons regularly. Instead they had thought their brothers very lucky, and clamored to hold them every time they shifted. Lariah didn’t think she would have handled it as well as her daughters did.

  After circling the garden once more she turned and flew toward the Bearens’ home which was two miles away. She loved that Hope and Saige lived on the ranch with their children. The ranch was big enough for them all to have their own homes with plenty of space for privacy, yet still be close enough for visits.

  Lariah flew slowly, enjoying herself, but even so she arrived at the Bearens’ in just a few minutes. Seeing Hope out in her garden with the boys, she landed just outside the gate and let herself in.

  “Good morning, Lariah,” Hope said, getting up to greet her. Lariah hugged her, liking Hope very much even though she hadn’t known her very long.

  “Good morning, Hope,” Lariah replied. “You look good. Pregnancy seems to agree with you. How you feeling?”

  “I feel great,” Hope replied. “I just wish my guys would quit treating me like I’m sick.”

  Lariah grimaced as she bent down to pick up her eldest nephew. “I know what you mean,” she said, giving Harlan a kiss on the nose. “It’s annoying, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, to say the least,” Hope replied, watching as Lariah set Harlan back on the lawn, then knelt to greet Matt and Weld before standing up. “You got any advice for me on that?”

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Lariah said. “Although, now that I think about it, they were better during the second pregnancy. Maybe the key is just to get pregnant a few times until they get used to it.”

  “I think I have to see how this one goes before I can commit to that,” Hope said as she led Lariah to the patio and offered her a seat. Lariah poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the table and sipped it with a sigh of pleasure. She never got tired of coffee.

  “I take it you got my message?” Hope asked.

  “I did,” Lariah replied. “What’s up?”

  “You know that Berta’s niece traveled to Jasan with Aisling on the Kontuan, right?” Hope asked.

  “Yes,” Lariah replied. “And I know she arrived yesterday. Have you met her yet?”

  “Not yet, but I’m going up to Arima House for lunch to meet her,” Hope replied. “Berta came down this morning to give me a message that her niece brought from Aisling, and she invited me.”

  “A hand delivered message?” Lariah asked in surprise. “Why not just vox you?”

  “That’s what I wondered, until I read it,” Hope said, reaching into her pocket and removing a thin metal envelope. She opened it and removed a sheet of paper covered with actual hand writing. “It’s easier if you just read this for yourself.” She slid the paper across the table to Lariah.

  Lariah picked it up, frowning worriedly.

  “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” Hope assured her. Lariah’s brow cleared and she unfolded the sheet of paper and began to read.

  Dearest Hope,

  I’m sending this message with Honey because it’s the only truly safe method of communication at this time. Even so, I can’t tell you all that I’d like to tell you right now. Partly for the sake of security, and partly because I made a pact with my Rami. Therefore, I ask that you please trust me, and accept that what I ask of you, and the other women, I ask for a reason that cannot be divulged just yet.

  Olaf will send a message to the Dracon Princes requesting that a meeting be called between all of the Clan Consuls and their Arimas, to take place in thirty days. That should give me enough time to review my father’s data. Hopefully there will be insights and information on the Xanti that will be of help to us in making the decisions that must be made at the meeting.

  What I ask of you, and all of the other Consul Arimas, is that you very seriously consider the subject of war with the Narrasti. Discuss the matter with each other, and with your Rami. I do not ask that you come down on one side or the other, or that you convince your men to change their views. I ask only that you give it serious thought before the meeting in thirty days.

  On second thought, I ask one other thing. Please review the Jasani Prophecy, and the words spoken by The Nine, the last paragraph in particular.

  On a personal note, I have just learned of your joyful news, and I am very happy for you all. I look forward to seeing you in thirty days.

  Please give the boys hugs and kisses from Auntie Aisling, and tell them I love them, as I do all of you.

  Aisling

  “Interesting,” Lariah said when she was finished. She refolded the paper and returned it to Hope while considering what she’d read. “I wonder why she wants us to discuss that issue in particular. It seems to me that war between the Jasani and the Narrasti is inevitable.”

  “Yes, that’s what I thought too,” Hope replied. “Do you remember what the Nine said? The Bearens told me about it, but I never heard the entire thing. I never heard the entire prophecy either.”

  “I’ll send a copy to you,” Lariah said. “The last paragraph is, I believe, the part where they warned that if the Triad wasn’t listened to, there would be dire consequences.”

  “The Triad being you, Saige, and Summer Katre, correct?”

  “Yes,” Lariah said. “I remember Saige telling me that one of the first things Riata told her, after she died, was that troubled times were coming for the Jasani, and that if the wrong choices were made, the Jasani might be destroyed.”

  Hope’s hands went to the small swelling of her stomach, and Lariah wanted to kick herself. “I’m sorry, Hope,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Hope said. “I was just startled is all.”

  Lariah nodded and picked up her coffee cup. “I wish I could remember things the way Summer does. But, even with what we know right now it seems to me that Aisling is asking that we back up a little and rethink the issue of the Narrasti.”

  “Rethink?” Hope asked. “Did you three already get together and discuss it?”

  “No, we didn’t,” Lariah said. “I thought it was inevitable. The Narrasti destroyed the Jasan
i home world. Why would there not be a war?”

  “So you don’t believe Summer’s theory?” Hope asked.

  “What theory?”

  “That it wasn’t the Narrasti who destroyed Ugaztun,” Hope replied.

  Lariah’s eyes widened. “Damn, I’d forgotten all about that! The last I remember hearing about that was when a request was sent to Sheara 3 for copies of the scroll she spoke of. That was nearly a year ago.”

  “The guys told me about Summer’s theory, but that’s the last I heard of it too,” Hope said.

  “Aisling knows something we don’t,” Lariah said thoughtfully. “Something that makes her think war between the Narrasti and the Jasani would be a bad idea. Whatever it is she knows, she can’t tell us yet, but she wants us to keep an open mind, and remember that it’s our job to guide Jasan onto the right paths.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m afraid we’ve failed in our duty since we didn’t even consider whether it was a good thing or a bad thing to send war ships to Onddo.”

  “Lariah,” Hope said, “I don’t want to bring up unhappy subjects, but you must remember that things have been difficult for you this past year.”

  “I know,” Lariah said. “But I’m fine now, and it’s past time for me to catch up and pay attention to what’s going on. First, I’ll reread the prophecies, and I’ll get a copy for you. If we’re going to be faced with the task of convincing Clan Jasani not to go to war against the Narrasti, we’re going to have our work cut out for us.”

  “Before we try to convince anyone of anything, we need to make up our own minds,” Hope said. “I don’t know whether I think it’s a bad idea or a good one right now.”

  “Me neither,” Lariah said. “I think it’s important that we do what Aisling’s asked of us, though, and give it some thought. I think I’ll go by and see Saige for a minute on my way home. Would you like me to tell her about this, or do you want to do it?”

  “If you don’t mind doing it, I’d appreciate it,” Hope replied. “Here, take the letter with you.”

  “All right,” Lariah replied, slipping the letter into her pocket. “I’ll go now. I don’t want to be away from the babies for too long.”

  ***

  Michael stood at the viewing screen in the room next to the specially constructed cell holding the Xanti, stunned by what he was seeing. His whole purpose in visiting Jasan was to get the unheard of opportunity to view not only the remains of a real Xanti, but the Xanti’s bio-suit as well. Up until the moment that the Vulpirans had shown him images of the dead Xanti after the conference on Epsilon III, he, like most people, had no idea what they really looked like. Just seeing the images had been exciting, and he’d been looking forward to seeing the real thing for months now, ever since they’d invited him here. Never had he dreamed to see a real, live Xanti with his own eyes.

  Now that he was seeing one, he had to struggle to hide his revulsion, and it had nothing to do with the Xanti’s appearance. Michael didn’t have a problem with spiders. Personally, he thought they were interesting creatures. This one, with its shiny black body and ten legs, actually interested the scientist in him a great deal. He was looking forward to seeing the results of the tests that the Vulpirans had run on it. It was the thing’s dark and twisted intelligence, and the knowledge that its goal was to destroy or enslave all the peoples of the Thousand Worlds, that offended him.

  He watched as the Xanti crossed its cell to a small table near the door. It lifted it’s front eight legs off the floor, resting its weight on its back two legs, and picked up the small, rectangular translator with two forelegs. It used another leg to activate the device, and yet another to press a button. It then made some chittering noises which sent shivers down Michael’s back. When it was finished, it pressed another button and Michael heard the Xanti’s words repeated in the mechanical voice of the translator.

  “I know you’re out there, whoever you are,” it said. “Why don’t you come on in and we’ll sit and have a chat.”

  Michael turned and raised questioning brows at Vikter Vulpiran.

  “The cell is armored against every type of transmission device or weapon, but it has common air exchangers,” he explained.

  Michael nodded as he turned back to the view screen. “It smells me then,” he said. He watched the Xanti as it turned off the translator, set it back on the table and returned to its previous place in the corner. As he watched it, he thought about the Vulpirans.

  They’d sent a ground-car and a message earlier that morning requesting that he meet them at the Research Center. They’d been waiting for him on the sidewalk out front, and while they’d seemed tense and more withdrawn than he remembered them being, they’d been perfectly polite. He had a feeling that there was something bothering them, but whatever it was, he certainly didn’t know them well enough to inquire into what might be a personal matter.

  The real question was, could he trust them with a personal matter of his own? No, he amended, the real question was, did he have a choice? The answer was no. Not if he intended to convince them that he’d make a good addition to their scientific community on a permanent basis. And he wanted that very much.

  According to Honey, the Jasani had a different view of psychic abilities than his own people. At least, her Aunt Berta did. He really hoped the rest of them held the same view. His mind made up, he reached out and flipped off the view screen, then turned to face the Vulpirans.

  “I know that we do not know each other well,” he said. “Even so, I believe that you are honorable men. Therefore, I’m going to trust you with something that, should it become common knowledge on Terien, would ruin me.”

  “We would never betray a trust, Michael,” Vikter said. “But it is usually best to keep sensitive information to oneself. Perhaps you should not trust us with it.”

  “In general, I agree with that philosophy wholeheartedly,” Michael replied. “But there are exceptions to everything, I’ve discovered. In this instance, I find that there are several exceptions, not the least of which being that all of the Thousand Worlds are in danger from the Xanti.” Michael said no more. If the Vulpirans did not want to hear what he had to say, that was their choice.

  “We understand all too well what you mean,” Vikter said, shooting a meaningful glance at Lance and Hunt. “Many sacrifices must be made by all of us in this common cause. Be assured that we will not betray your trust.”

  “I have a psychic ability,” Michael said flatly. When the Vulpirans continued to look at him with curiosity rather than shock, he continued. “Psychic abilities are frowned upon on Terien. Even though there are many worlds where such things are common, on Terien, a citizen who claims to have such a talent will quickly find himself discredited and shunned. All grants will dry up, his seat on the Terien Scientific Federation will be withdrawn, along with his new post on Earth with the Intersystem Scientific Counsel, and any work he does for the remainder of his life will be ignored and considered suspect. I’ve sacrificed a great deal for my career and wouldn’t care to see it destroyed unless I had other options, which I do not have at this time.”

  “We have many psychics here, and welcome them and their talents,” Vikter said. “There is much about Clan Jasani that would, under the beliefs of Terien, label Jasan suspect as well.”

  “The Terien government does not see such things as suspect for other races,” Michael said. “What is acceptable in a Jasani, or a Tislan, is not acceptable for a Terien.”

  “We understand,” Vikter said.

  “As you are aware, I have a reputation for understanding alien races. For the most part I do this by the same, mundane means as other scientists use. However, I am also able to see into their minds. The more alien, the more clearly I see.”

  “You can read their thoughts?” Lance asked in surprise.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Michael said. “What I can do is read their psyche. I can, to some degree, sense their fears, their needs, their desires, their intents.” Michael shook h
is head. “I’m afraid I’m not explaining this very well. It’s something I hide, so explaining it isn’t something I’ve had much practice at.”

  “We do not need to fully understand what you do, Michael,” Vikter said, unable to hide his excitement. “We only need to know how to help you do it, and hope that you are able to glean some information from this Xanti about his race. We are in the untenable position of having an enemy about whom we know next to nothing, while he knows everything about us. This is the very reason we invited you here. That you have a psychic ability is, in our view, a bonus.”

  “Thank you,” Michael said with great relief. “I need to be closer to the Xanti. I don’t need to touch it, but I need to be in the same room with it.”

  “There is reason to believe that the Xanti will try to kill you if given the chance,” Hunt said, speaking to Michael for the first time that day. “From our extensive examination of the Xanti remains we have, using its stinger may or may not kill it, but it will definitely kill you.”

  “Isn’t there a way we can be face to face without providing it with the opportunity to kill me?” Michael asked.

  “There is a clear LumaTite barrier which can be raised into place, dividing the room into two sections,” Vikter said. “The original barrier had holes in it so that we could attempt to communicate with the Xanti. The Xanti was able to slip several of its legs, and its stinger, through the holes with amazing speed and dexterity. If the scientists interviewing the Xanti at the time had not been Clan Jasani, they probably wouldn’t have been able to move quickly enough to avoid the attack. The barrier was replaced with a solid version. Will that work?”