Firestorm (8 page)

Five

Raina halted at the door to the transport chamber. She inhaled a ragged breath, then squared her shoulders and activated the key control. The portal slid open to reveal a large room in cool green hues. Teague Tremayne stood to one side, deep in conversation with King Falkan and Teran Ardane. At the other side of the room, near the transport consoles and technicians, stood Cyra Husam al Nur.

She motioned Raina over. Ignoring the curious glances of the monk and his two companions, the warrior woman headed across the transport chamber to Cyra. The petite scientist shot her a grateful glance.

"I know this isn't the best time to ask this of you," Cyra began, "but if you could spare me a moment?"

Raina nodded. "Something further you wish to add about the crystal?"

"No." Cyra sent a furtive glance in the direction of Teague Tremayne, her gaze momentarily snagging on the carrying pack hanging from his shoulder. He was once more deep in discussion with the others. "The Volan," she said. "Beware of him. Though he's essential to the success of this mission, he's not to be trusted."

"Isn't that stating the obvious?"

"No, you don't understand." Cyra stepped closer, her voice dropping. "I've worked with subjects who were Volan enslaved. Driven by their Volan masters, they are deadly, devious, and cold-hearted. They are also very intelligent and manipulative. This Rand may be physically limited by the confines of his biosphere, but he's still a Volan."

She shuddered. "I loathe them and all that they represent. I can't help it, but I do."

"Your concern is noted." Raina cocked an inquiring brow. "Is there anything more? The king awaits."

"Yes, there is one thing more." The blond woman hesitated then lifted her chin and forged on. "You'll have to travel through the Ar Rimal desert to reach the firestorm caves. This may seem pointless and potentially futile, but there's a man, a leader of one of the desert tribes . . ."

"The same one who led you to the caves?"

Cyra looked away. "Yes. That one. His tribe roams that area of the Ar Rimal. If you should happen to meet him . . ." She riveted her gaze back on Raina. "There's a message I'd have you give him."

"The Ar Rimal is vast. The odds are great we won't—"

"I know," the blond woman hastened to interject. "I know, but it's the last chance I may ever have of communicating with him and there are . . . things . . . things I need to say. I'd at least like to know I tried."

She suffers deeply because of this man, Raina realized noting the tears glistening in Cyra's eyes and her taut, strained expression. Compassion filled her. "Tell me your message and I'll do my best to get it to him. I can't promise anything, though, as it might jeopardize the mission, but I'll—"

"Thank you!" Cyra grabbed Raina's hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "I know. I understand." She paused then.

"Well, the message and the man's name?" Raina prodded, when no further information was forthcoming.

The blond woman swallowed convulsively. "I wish you to tell him that, in spite of it all, I love him still"— she flushed crimson—"and always will."

Raina frowned in puzzlement. "If you love him so, then why are you—"

"It's too long a story to tell." Cyra managed a wobbly smile. "And far too complicated to belabor. You've a transport awaiting you. Just . . . give him my message, if you will."

She released Raina's hand and had made a move to step back and walk away when Raina halted her. "His name. What's this man's name?"

Once more, Cyra's eyes filled with tears, this time overflowing to trickle down her face. "Bahir. Bahir Husam al Nur," she whispered achingly. "My husband." Then, without another word, she turned and fled the room.

Raina watched her leave, even more confused than she'd been before. Her husband? Then why—

She let that question die the death it deserved. It was none of her concern what had transpired between Cyra and this Bahir. He'd most likely betrayed her in some way, as men were wont to do.

The real tragedy was that Cyra persisted in loving him. Raina wished heartily that she hadn't agreed to carry the message. The last thing she wanted was to involve herself in the middle of someone else's romantic predicament, or be responsible for fanning the flames of what was apparently a doomed love.

Turning, she strode over to stand before the king, rendering him a formal bow. "I am at your command, Imperial Majesty."

Falkan's gaze swept over her, then he nodded. "All is in readiness." He looked at Teague. "And you, Brother Tremayne? Are you ready as well?"

"Yes, Majesty."

With a sweeping gesture, the king indicated the transport platform. Raina and Teague silently mounted it.

"The fate of the entire Imperium may well rest in your hands," Falkan then said. "May your journey be a successful one."

As he spoke, the transport shield lowered with a muted whir. The king and Teran Ardane stepped back. Across the room, one of the technicians shoved down a lever. A buzzing filled the air.

Inexplicably, panic flooded Raina. She couldn't go. It was all a mistake. A terrible, tragic mistake.

Savagely, she squashed the shameful thoughts. It wasn't a mistake. It was her destiny. And she would see it through—for the sake of the Imperium, for herself.

"It is frightening, is it not?" the monk softly asked beside her. "Even if you know in your heart it must be."

Startled, Raina turned toward Teague. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped. Even as she tried to speak, he began to disappear. Then, in a flurry of bright, sharp light, the transport chamber dissolved before her eyes.

***

"Onboard systems are all functional," Raina intoned, as she made one last check of the cockpit console.

Lights of all hues blinked and glowed from the computer terminal that lay before them. Teague looked up from the other seat of the small, cramped cockpit of the Volan spy ship, pausing in the programming of the coordinates for the refueling station on Cygnus, their one and only stop in the five-day space flight to Incendra.

"I suppose there's no further reason for delay, then." His glance locked with hers. "Is the Volan lashed down, securely? The initial acceleration as we pull out of Bellator's orbit will be a bit rough."

"He's fine." Raina checked the security of her own seat harness one last time. "Let's get on with it, shall we?"

Teague bit back a smile. The Sodalitas was as unhappy with this mission as he was. That was good. She'd be highly motivated to hasten the mission's completion. Just as highly motivated as he was, it seemed.

He grasped the yoke firmly in both hands. "Navigation program engaged" he instructed the computer. "Initiate orbit departure sequence."

"Orbit departure sequence initiated" the flat, mechanical voice of the flight computer responded.

With a rumble and a lurch forward, the thrusters fired. The spy ship broke orbit and soared off, away from Bellator and toward the stars. Display panel lights flashed in a crazed multicolored succession. The small craft shook with the driving force of its powerful engines.

Teague was flung back into his seat. His hands tightened about the flight yoke, more for support than to maintain a direction already controlled by the flight computer. He liked the idea, nonetheless, that the secondary guidance system of the yoke was in place. He'd never totally trusted computers.

After what seemed an interminable time, the turbulence finally ceased. "Now free of Bellatorian orbit," the flight computer droned.

Teague programmed in the autopilot, then released his grip on the yoke. Relieved to have successfully completed takeoff, he momentarily forgot his monastic presence and grinned over at Raina. "Have you noticed that even the dialogue of Volan computers is sparse and monotonous? I've never heard a more emotionless voice."

"What did you expect from a species that believes in total mindless conformity? Scintillating discourse?" Raina shot him a scornful glance. "It's but a machine, after all."

He scowled back. "My apologies for what was apparently an inane remark on my part. I was only trying to make some pleasant conversation." Stung by the female's reply, Teague choked down a disparaging comment or two of his own about her lack of manners. "Neither of us may wish to be here, but there's little purpose served in going for each other's throat at every opportunity. We have to work together, after all."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Brother Tremayne." Raina arched a mocking brow. "Aren't you required to avoid females at all cost? I but wonder at your motives now in attempting pleasantries with me,"

"They were nothing more than an effort to make an already unendurable journey a bit more bearable," he gritted, suddenly aggravated to the limits of his control. "However, since you obviously find my conversational attempts offensive, be assured I'll refrain from further 'pleasantries' in the future."

"Just stick to the mission, Tremayne. That's all I've wanted or will ever want, from you."

"Fine," he rasped and turned his gaze toward the view screen. "That's just fine with me."

They sped through an ebony vastness, tiny bits of starlight the only apparent signs of life in an otherwise lifeless space. Neither spoke for a long while, content to stare out the view screen at the impressively infinite blackness. Then, from behind them, a third voice spoke.

"You seem to have a strong antipathy for each other," Rand said, quite evidently puzzled. "Why is that?"

Raina and Teague's glances met. "Do you want to turn him off, or should I?" she demanded.

"I've no problem with his question," the monk replied mildly. "I don't hate you, after all. I'm just not permitted close involvement with you."

"Well, I don't appreciate nor will I tolerate him prying where he has no right to go." Raina released the safety clasps on her harness and shoved out of her seat. "As far as I'm concerned, there's no reason to have to listen to him again until we near the caves. Until then, there's no need for him at all."

Teague grabbed her arm as she made a move to walk past him. Raina froze, then looked down to where he clasped her. His fingers were long and tapering, the span of his hand wide. His nails were clean and neatly trimmed.

A derisive smile twisted her lips. Definitely the hands of a pampered man, she thought. Incendarian by birth or not, this time he'd tolerate the hardships poorly.

"Release me, I say." She glared down at him. "Now."

Instead, the monk's grip tightened. "The Volan, potential enemy though he might be, is a living being. He has done nothing to deserve this derisive treatment from you. Rather than turning his communications device off, I think you owe him an apology."

"Be damned!" Raina jerked free with a vicious twist of her arm. "I'll not apologize to some alien entity in a box. And I won't be dictated to by you, either." She strode over to where Rand's carrying pack sat strapped to the floor. Squatting, she began to fumble with the pocket housing the communications device.

"There's no reason to turn me off," the Volan said. "I but meant to get to know you better, and ease the animosity—"

With a snap of her wrist, Raina flipped off the audio controls. Once more, silence permeated the cockpit. A grim satisfaction filled her. In one quick and simple demonstration, she'd showed the Volan and Tremayne that she'd not be coerced or intimidated into following their desires. Let this one lesson suffice. It would save them all a lot of misery if it did.

She rose and walked over to stand beside Tremayne. He slowly lifted his gaze to her, his expression calm, shuttered. "Wish to turn me off now, too, do you?" he drawled, the challenge glinting in his eyes belying his lazy manner. "How unfortunate for you I have no control switch."

"Unfortunate, indeed." Raina subjected him to a cool, appraising look. "But there are other ways to shut you out for a time. If you've no objection, I'd like to make use of the sleeping cabin. There's no sense in both of us staying awake. Besides," she added sweetly, "if we take turns sleeping, we minimize the amount of time we must spend together in close quarters."

"A wise idea." The monk turned back to the view screen. "Sleep a& long as you like and, when you're done, I'll take my turn. Oh, by the way," he added, as she turned to leave, "flip the Volan's communications device back on, will you? I find myself desiring some pleasant conversation for a change."

"Do it yourself, Tremayne," Raina snapped and without another word, stalked out of the cockpit and down the short corridor to the ship's single sleeping chamber.

***

The five-day trip passed uneventfully. The refueling at Cygnus went without a hitch. Raina and Teague managed to avoid each other most of the day by carefully planning their sleeping schedules around each other, and spending the rest of their free time with one in the cockpit and the other in the equally cramped galley.

Teague had never realized how miserable the confines of a spacecraft could be when one was trying to avoid someone. Especially someone who, for all her irritating, high-handed ways, was still the most sexually alluring female he'd ever known. Curse the Incendarian attraction! Curse his lack of experience in curbing his response to it!

He knew they couldn't go on like this indefinitely, if for no other reason than that it would severely hamper if not sidetrack their mission. But he also knew it wasn't an issue easily solved or one best dealt with just yet.

Raggedly, Teague shoved a hand through his hair, exhaled a deep breath, and leaned back in his seat. He simply wasn't trained or knowledgeable when it came to dealing with females. If things had gone differently, if he hadn't been on his way to Incendra on a difficult and potentially dangerous mission, he wouldn't have had to.

"You are disturbed."

Teague twisted in his seat and flung a look in the direction of the Volan's carrying pack and receptacle. In the past days, as much to learn more of the alien as to distract himself from his rising tension and sexual stirrings, he'd spent many hours talking with Rand.

It was surprising how much information, scientific, philosophical, and literary, the Volan had accumulated in the months after his return to his biosphere. There had been little else for him to do to pass the days, Rand had informed him, and, the more he learned via the store of audio recordings Teran Ardane had provided him, the more it whetted his appetite to learn.

Teague chuckled. "Has anyone ever told you that you're extremely inquisitive? Most humanoids don't appreciate being questioned about their private thoughts."

"I've noted that," Rand said. "But I've also noted that most humanoids also aren't all that adept at working through their problems without verbalizing them, either."

Teague turned to gaze out through the view screen. The cloud-obscured orb of Incendra gleamed like some warm, welcome beacon in the vast blackness of space. They'd be entering its gravitational pull soon. The plan was to decelerate by plunging into the planet's upper atmosphere, where air friction would slow the spacecraft down, then climb out again into the desired orbit. Once orbit was obtained and all systems restabilized, they'd descend once more, this time to land. No, Teague thought, it wouldn't be long now before the mission began in earnest.

"I press too much, don't I?"

The Volan's voice jerked Teague from his contemplation of the hours ahead. "What?" He smiled. Above all else, Rand seemed to possess the most all-consuming need to understand the functionings of the human heart. Though Raina attributed his actions to sinister motives, meant ultimately to be used against them, Teague wasn't so sure.

The monk sighed and shook his head. "I don't mind, really, but I'm also not accustomed to sharing my thoughts and feelings, either."

"Could you at least tell me why the femina is so . . . er . . . antagonistic toward you? I understand her reasons in my regard. She sees me as an enemy. But you . . . you are a fellow humanoid."

"I'm also a male," Teague replied "and for some reason, Raina doesn't trust or like men. She's a member of a warrior society of women called the Sodalitas. They live in their own city on the planet Moraca, shun men save for the necessary procreative purposes, and raise only the female babes they bear. Though some of them hire out as mercenaries to help support the Sodalitas who stay behind to run the city, they never willingly seek out or desire the company of men."

"She's been hurt by some man, then?"

"Most likely. Marissa once mentioned that Raina wasn't born into that warrior society. She joined them of her own accord."

"Then you must prove to her you are no danger to her. She needs to learn that or she'll never have any hope of happiness."

Once more, Teague twisted in his seat to glance behind him. "What, by the five moons, are you talking about?"

"I don't understand." Puzzlement tinged Rand's voice.

"Why do you care if Raina finds happiness or not?"

"Isn't that what all humanoids seek? A close and long-lasting bonding—especially between a male and a female?"

"Some may wish for that," Teague growled "but not I, nor, it seems, Raina."

"You are a monk. I think I understand the laws you must abide by. What I don't understand is why you would choose such a lonely life of renunciation over that of companionship and love." Rand hesitated. "If it wouldn't be an imposition, could you at least explain that to me?"

Teague smiled and shook his head. The Volan was persistent if nothing else. "Men embrace the monastic life for different reasons. One way or another, it's chosen in the hope of finding fulfillment or answers or peace. All of which," Teague added dryly, "could be viewed as a form of happiness."

"And why did you choose it?"

Once more, the monk turned to gaze out the view screen. "I chose it for many reasons," he said softly, the memories flooding him with surprising force. "In the beginning, it chose me, when the brothers took me in. I was lost, confused . . . barely even sane. They gave me shelter, protection, and the most compassionate understanding. I don't know what I would've done without them.

"Later, I remained out of a sense of obligation, that I owed them recompense for all they'd done for me. And, little by little, I began to see how their way suited me, how I could finally be of some use to others, and how living this kind of life could give me back what I had lost. So I stayed took my vows, and strove to become the best monk I could."

"Your exploits are legendary. I'd say you succeeded."

Teague's mouth quirked wryly. "Some might well say that."

"And you?" Rand persisted. "What do you say?"

"It's hard to judge until one's life is over and one can look back. I'm content, though. I've achieved some of my goals. Others"—he shrugged—"I've yet to achieve."

"Perhaps the mission to Incendra will provide you with yet another measure of success. I hope to—"

The entry proximity warning buzzer went off. "Approaching the planet Incendra," the flight computer droned. "Transmit new directives."

Teague swiftly programmed in the atmospheric deceleration commands, then depressed the intercom button to the sleeping chambers. "Femina?"

"What?" came a voice rusty with sleep.

"We're nearing Incendarian orbit. I need you in the cockpit immediately."

There was a rustle of bed clothes, the soft thud of feet hitting the floor, and then the sound of a huge yawn. "I'll be there in five minutes."

Teague released the intercom button and went back to delivering further instructions to the computer. Raina, true to her word stepped through the corridor hatchway exactly five minutes later. She hurriedly covered the short distance and swung down into her seat.

"What do you need help with?" she demanded tersely as she strapped herself into her safety harness.

"Keep a close eye on the hull temperatures and structural stability as we decelerate into the upper atmosphere," Teague said, without taking his eyes off the computer panel. "I'll have my hands full making certain the ship maintains the proper angle of descent. As good a heat and electromagnetic protective shielding as this craft has, nothing can withstand the friction of too steep an atmospheric reentry."

"I think I can manage that," the warrior woman muttered. "It's just these three lights, isn't it?" she asked, pointing to the upper right corner of the computer panel that stood before her. "I wouldn't want to bungle such a complex assignment, you know?"

"Entering Incendarian atmosphere in five seconds," the flight computer said.

Exasperated by her barely contained sarcasm, Teague shot Raina a piercing look, then turned back to the job at hand.

"Entering Incendarian atmosphere in three seconds, two seconds, one second . . ."

With a mighty jolt, the ship struck the planet's upper atmosphere. The layers of air shivered over the spacecraft in turbulent waves, bucking it to and fro. Raina held onto her safety harness with both hands, her gaze never leaving the three panel lights that were her charge. The lights held steady for a time, then one began to flicker erratically.

Quickly, she programmed in a diagnostic search for the source of the difficulty and found it in the rear starboard protective shield, which appeared not to be functioning adequately.

"I need to go aft and check out the rear starboard panel," Raina shouted over the deafening sound of the thrusters straining in reverse as they fired in an attempt to slow the craft's descent.

"What?" Teague roared back, jerking his head up to look at her.

"The rear starboard shields!" Raina screamed pointing to the flickering light on the computer panel. She unfastened her safety harness and, with great difficulty in the rocking ship, climbed to her feet.

Teague eyed her, then the panel, comprehension finally dawning. "Check it out as fast as you can, then get back here. This descent isn't going well."

Raina nodded and turned, making her way toward the hatch corridor by lurching forward bit by bit, grabbing whatever she could for support. The roar of the thrusters lessened somewhat once she worked her way down the corridor, only to be replaced by a new noise. Her heart sank. It sounded like . . . like a loose panel.

Slamming her fist down on the button of the wall intercom situated nearby, Raina yelled for Tremayne.

"What?" his deep voice came. "What's wrong?"

"I think the rear starboard shield is loose," Raina cried. "I'm going in through the hold to check it out!"

"No!" the monk roared. "It's too dangerous. If the panel's loose or damaged the heat, not to mention the electromagnetic radiation, can get in. It could kill you!"

"And so will burning up in the atmosphere if I don't fix it," Raina shouted back. "We don't have any choice in this, Tremayne, and you know it. I'm here and you're not."

"Don't!" Teague bellowed. "Don't do it!"

Raina hesitated an instant longer, then released the intercom button. Turning, she made her unsteady way down to the end of the corridor and the floor panel that opened into the hold.