Page 22

A rocking motion woke Jos to a bright, blinding pain. Voices surrounded him, muffled by a ringing in his ears. Unaccountably, the image of a woman pressed against his mind, a woman familiar to him whose identity remained elusively beyond his recall. Her lips moved first, then her words pierced his mind accompanied by an agony so fierce, blackness threatened to drag him under.

Thank you .

The image disappeared under a fresh wave of pain, and he sank again into a blissfully painless void.

Awareness flickered in and out, imparting blurry, dreamlike snippets. The ravaged interior of a spaceship. Helmeted medics rushing him through piercingly white corridors. The steady, ominous beep of machinery. A familiar hand holding his.

The latter roused him. “Tyelu,” he murmured.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “Sleep.”

Comforted beyond belief, he did as she asked.

When he came to again, an odd pressure had wrapped itself around his head. He tried opening his eyes and grunted when they remained shut, then panicked when he found his hands restrained. Had he been captured? Where was his dal? He could’ve sworn he’d heard Tyelu—

“Stop moving,” his grandmother barked. “Or I’ll have the nurse administer another sedative.”

He stilled immediately and turned his head toward her voice. “Happened?” His voice came out as a whispered croak, shocking him. Exactly how badly had that last mission gone?

“An explosion,” she replied. “Your dal was sent to investigate what we thought was a newly built child ship. It turned out to be a captured NetPath mobile research lab.”

The woman in his head. “She…there?”

“The telepath? Yes. She managed to blunt the explosion. Otherwise, you and your d’gas would be dead now. The Sweepers have found an ingenious spot in their animalistic brains. They rigged the net node to explode, possibly deliberately. You seem to have walked into a trap.”

“How?”

He couldn’t get the rest of his question out. She seemed to understand what he was asking anyway.

“We’ve got our brightest minds working toward an answer. Never fear. We’ll figure out how the Sweepers got their hands on that technology and who showed them how to use it.”

What if the Sweepers had discovered that on their own? The thought shot raw horror through him. The only thing preventing the Sweepers from overrunning the galaxy was their own stupidity. Bad enough that they bred so quickly. That could be kept in check, or so Jos had thought just a few months ago. So everyone had thought. Obviously, Sweepers had found a way to hide a population explosion from the rest of the sector; and somehow, they’d managed to get their hands on the tech needed to mount an effective assault, to defend themselves against the might of Q’s highly trained mercenary-soldiers.

Their leather coats flashed through his mind on a fresh wave of pain, and he let go of deeper thought, drifting away from himself and further explanations.

When he woke again, a soothing hand caressed his jaw.

“Tyelu?” he murmured.

“I’m here,” she said. “Water?”

He gargled out an incomprehensible plea.

She lifted his head and pressed something to his lips. “Small sips.”

He drank gratefully, aware of the raw ache in his throat, of the bandages covering his eyes, of barely muted pain in his torso and legs. When he’d had his fill, she lowered him gently and held one of his hands between hers.

“Happened?” he said.

In the pause that followed, he became aware of the hum of an engine thrumming in his bones, the sharp scent of disinfectant, and that persistent mechanical beep.

“Do you remember Zhina coming by?” Tyelu said.

He searched his memory, landed on his grandmother’s recent presence. “An explosion.”

“And?”

“Net ‘path.” He swallowed and wished desperately for more water to soothe the grit coating his mouth and throat. “Dal’s ok?”

“Everyone made it out alive.”

“Good. Eyes?”

Another hesitation. “You’re healing. That’s the important thing, my love. Rest now.”

“Talk to—”

“Hush. You’re wearing yourself out.”

She said it so firmly, he grinned. Tried to, anyway. Even smiling hurt.

Frek it. Tyelu was here. He needed to feel her. “Kiss.”

Her lips brushed softly across his. “Rest now.”

“Love you,” he gritted out.

“I know. Don’t worry, my love. You’ll be back in the thick of things again before you—”

He faded out, content to have her nearby.

“Jos?”

The question woke him. A vague memory of Tyelu’s visit drifted to him, and he wondered irritably exactly how many more times he was going to lapse into unconsciousness in the middle of a conversation before he fully healed.

“Ah, good,” a hearty male voice said. “You’re awake. Try to open your eyes. Gently now.”

The pressure around his head was gone. He tried to blink his eyes open. His eyelids felt unbearably heavy. Somehow, he managed to open them a bare slit. Shadowed light stabbed through his eyes directly into his brain, and he winced.

“That’s to be expected. Don’t fight the pain.” The voice drifted slightly away. “The bruising’s a little worse than we thought, but still within acceptable parameters.”

“Acceptable parameters?” Tyelu said, her voice ice over steel.

“Ah, now,” the man said, a thread of humor in his own voice. “I’ve dealt with too many of you soldier types to be intimidated by a glare and a threatening tone.”

“Tyelu, leave the man be,” Jos murmured, his words slow and slurred from the drugs they’d given him.

She huffed out an exasperated grunt. “How do your eyes feel?”

“Like you skewered them with your sword. Miss me?”

The man coughed delicately. “Eyes open, Q’Mhel. Let’s see where you are on the road to recovery.”

Jos obediently opened his eyes again, this time wide enough to take in his shadowy surroundings. They were in a windowless room, him on a hospital bed dressed in a patient gown. Tyelu stood beside his bed, her hands clasped behind her back, staring down at him dispassionately. A brave face. He could feel the thin tug of her worry pressing against him amid the love.

He twitched his hand toward her, shocked by how much effort it took to move. “There you are.”

Her expression cracked once and hardened, and she arched an eyebrow at him. “Where else would I be?”

“Oh, to be young again,” the man said. “The explosion did quite a number on your implant as well. It had to be removed. No worries, Q’Mhel. We replaced it with the latest version. You’ll need to have it properly calibrated before achieving full functionality, but I think you’ll be pleased with the upgrade.”

Jos focused on the man long enough to discern the medical tabs on his uniform, then closed his eyes again. “Do I still have my own eyes?”

“Indeed you do, Q’Mhel. It was a close thing, though. The bots are still in there mucking about. Best to rest while they’re healing you.”

“My hand?”

“Just a little muscle relaxant,” the doctor said. “You took some serious damage to your torso and thighs. It’ll heal, with time. You’ll need physical therapy.”

“Great,” Jos growled.

“He’ll do it without complaint,” Tyelu said firmly.

Jos managed a half grin and turned his face toward her voice. “Stars. Love you. Give me a kiss.”

She scoffed, but pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. After, she whispered against his ear, “One more day and you can come home.”

“Promise?”

“Yes,” the doctor said firmly. “Now rest. Plenty enough time tomorrow for romance.”

The next day, Tyelu guided a protesting Jos out of the hospital in a motorized chair. His skin seemed too pale around the bruises mottling his face, and he tired more easily than he liked. To save him the embarrassment of being out in public while he was still healing, she hired a private car and driver to ferry them back to his apartment.

Their apartment, she amended quietly. She’d made it hers as much as his while he was away.

As soon as they were inside, he pushed himself out of it and stood shakily, braced against the entry wall, his face haggard and pale. “Get rid of that thing.”

“I’ll have someone pick it up tomorrow.”

He shot her a disgruntled frown. “I don’t need it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and matched him frown for frown. “Prove it.”

“Fine. I will.”

He lifted one foot, inched it forward, shifted his weight onto it. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his hand trembled against the wall.

She pressed her lips together and stayed right where she was, knowing he needed to try, feeling that need deep within her. She’d been injured before and understood all too well the drive pushing him. Jos wasn’t built to convalesce quietly any more than she was.

He reached the end of the entryway and stared bleakly at the space remaining between him and the living area. “Frek, that’s a long way.”

She hardened herself against her own need to care for him. Coddling would do him no good, even if he’d accept it from her. She could spoil him in other ways, fully planned to. But later, when he’d healed a little more.

“Two more steps,” she coaxed.

His eyebrows shot up and he turned a speculative look on her. “Do I hear a bribe in there?”

“Do you need one?” she countered coolly.

“Hard ass.”

“You like my ass.”

“Stars, yes. Best one ever. Can’t wait to see it again.” He gazed balefully at the sofa again. “Give me a distraction.”

“I’m not stripping down for you, Jos.”

“That’s a shame.”

He inched a shaky step forward, and she relented, if only to distract herself from an incessant urge to help him.

“I finished knitting your sweater,” she said, and corrected herself. “Three sweaters.”

“Three?” His knee buckled, and he muttered a curse as he steadied himself. “What do I need with three sweaters, princess?”

“We’re headed back to Abyw soon.”

He did swear then, long and loud. “Has it stopped snowing yet?”

She grinned. “It’s always snowing somewhere on Abyw.”

“Figures.”

“But not at the equator, where we’ll be. My parents are meeting us there. Kodh, too.”

He stopped midstride. “Kodh?”

She rolled her shoulders under Jos’s sharp-eyed stare. “We were on Abyw when I felt—when you were injured. Kodh agreed to transport us back here, then to the battle to retrieve you.”

“This sounds like a long story. Who’s we ?”

“Me, Oron—”

“What the frek does Minion 4 have to do with anything?”

“Zhina paired him with me as security. He and I have been rallying support for the conflict from among other planetary governments.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “If that misbegotten cur laid a hand on you—”

“Jealous?”

“Yes,” he muttered as he forced himself onward. “He’s been making time with my woman.”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “We’re friends. He calls me cousin .”

Jos uttered a sharp invective.

Tyelu stifled a grin. “Mama’s threatening to fatten him up and find him a wife.”

“I wish she would. Save me a lot of trouble.” He shook his head and tumbled onto the couch, panting. “Minion 4. Can’t believe Zhina sicced him on you.”

“Better him than an actual security detail. At least he has a sense of humor.”

“I have a sense of humor,” he said flatly. “Just not about you. Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

She leveled a cool stare at him. “Dear Jos, while you’re away ridding the sector of one of its deadliest threats, I’m spending most of my time sleeping one door away from your cousin, traveling on tiny ships with your cousin, eating every meal with—”

His mouth twitched into reluctant humor. “When you put it like that.”

“And you were jealous of Enel.”

“Not jealous exactly. Concerned.”

“After I went to all the trouble of stealing you?” Tyelu snorted. “Where did the nickname come from anyway? Minion 4. He wouldn’t say.”

“Did he tell you his nickname for me?”

She shook her head.

Jos grimaced. “Minion 3.”

The meaning clicked, and her eyes rounded. “He’s fourth in line for the taq?”

“Yeah. Our fathers are number one and two.”

“Your father.” She sighed and sat down next to him, careful not to bounce and cause him additional pain. “He and your mother have been recalled from their diplomatic posting. It’s going to take them some time to return to Q.”

He took her hand in his and smoothed his thumb over her skin. “Nervous?”

“About meeting them?” She turned away and shook her head. “No.”

“Liar. They’ll love you.” At her snort, he said, “What else has been going on? Any news on the net ‘path we found?”

“That’s been classified, and I’m not in the loop. You really saw one? They’re so reclusive as to be myth. I’ve only ever seen their avatars.”

“We really saw one,” he confirmed. “She’s as human-looking as you and me.”

“She saved you.”

“Apparently. What’s going on with the Sweepers?”

“Lie down and I’ll turn on the livecast so you can see for yourself.”

He grumbled a bit even as he eased himself into a horizontal position. “Slave driver.”

“Be good and I’ll kiss you again when I change your bandages.”

His look held more than a little interest. “Where?”

She laughed softly and went to cut on the viewscreen.