0642940001337283373 wind demon 03 Page 4

  "It's over,” she told him gently. “We're through."

  "S .. stay,” he whispered, his throat an agony.

  "What?” she asked.

  Even as the orderlies lifted him, moving him to a gurney, Cree found he could not look away from the woman's beautiful green eyes. He tried to lift his hand, to touch the hand of the woman whose eyes held him so enthralled, but his muscles wouldn't cooperate.

  "W .. with me,” he asked.

  "Captain Cree?"

  There they are again, he thought, his lips pulling back in a slow, confused smile. There are those beautiful, understanding eyes. He tried to lift his hand to touch their owner's cheek, but could not.

  "How do you feel?” Bridget asked him.

  "What's your name?” he croaked.

  "Dr. Dunne,” she replied. When he frowned, she amended her answer. “Bridget. Bridget Dunne."

  "Bridget,” he repeated.

  "Are you cold?"

  "Aye,” he sighed. Her voice was so soft, so incredibly gentle. It filled him with a need to which he could not put a name.

  "We're getting you a blanket.” She reached out to smooth away a lock of dark hair from his forehead.

  Cree closed his eyes, the effects of the synthetic neurotransmitter making the smell of her flesh a vivid sensation in his nostrils. Like the caress of her voice, her touch was infinitely desirable and completely calming.

  Then there had been excruciating pain. Horror. Betrayal. Fear. Helplessness. Hopelessness.

  Defenselessness. Uselessness.

  "Come, Kam,” she whispered. “Come to me and the pain will stop."

  He held out his hand, striving to touch hers, hopeful, ecstatic, then she began to fade from his sight.

  "No!” he cried out, but she was gone, leaving him lost, desperate, so totally without hope.

  "Where is she?” his mind demanded. He whimpered. “Where is she?” He screamed. “ Where is she ?"

  "Captain?"

  The light was piercing white filing his head with the worst pain he could ever remember experiencing.

  "Why wasn't she here?"

  "Captain?"

  He tried to focus. Someone shook him gently, spoke his given name. Fog, thick and numbing was clouding his vision and he couldn't move, couldn't find his way out of the mist. Why wouldn't she come to him?

  "Captain Cree!"

  His vision cleared and he found himself looking up into the beautiful green eyes of the woman for whom he had been searching in his nightmare world. She was leaning over him, her face concerned, those beautiful green eyes filled with tears.

  "Go away.” The command was bitter. “You weren't there when I needed you and I don't want you here now!"

  Then had come more pain. More humbling. More of everything that had nearly destroyed him.

  " Don't go!” he called out. “Don't leave me again, Bridget!"

  "I can't stay, but I'll be back with them when they come for you at thirteen hundred hours."

  And they had been on time.

  Sweet merciful Alel, why wouldn't she come for him?

  When at last the pain had stopped, she had been there.

  "Kam ..” she began only to have him fix her with a warning glance.

  "I am a Reaper, Bridget,” he snapped. “I will be all right. No matter what they do to me, I will be all right!"

  "Of course you will,” she agreed. Coming to him, she cupped his cheek. “Remember I love you, Kamerone Cree.” She locked her eyes with his. “I love you with all my heart. No matter what you are, no matter what you have to do in order to survive, I love you."

  * * * *

  The Reaper came awake with a gasp. He was shivering from the temperature being too cool but the headache was better. He put a trembling hand to his forehead. His breath was ragged as though he'd been running all out but his body didn't feel the aches it did when he'd laid down. Turning his head, he looked at the clock and realized he'd been asleep for several hours. Sitting up, he thrust his hand through his hair and stared across the room. If he tried hard, he could see Bridie's beautiful green eyes looking back at him. The last thing she had said to him before Sejm had snatched him from Terra echoed through the room: “I love you."

  "I love you, as well, my lady,” he repeated aloud his last words to her.

  He didn't feel the tears easing down his cheeks.

  * * * *

  Two days later found him sitting in the lounge, brooding. No one went near him for whenever someone tried, he would glare at them, warning them off. Not even Zainabu dared to intrude on his solitude but she was studying him across the room. "The Reaper is in a foul mood today,” the Necromanian woman declared. “He snapped at me."

  "Why is he out of sorts now?” Aegean asked.

  "The duplicator stopped working,” Chanz reporting. “Apparently there was more damage done to the system when that asteroid slammed into us than I'd realized."

  "That means we're going to have to land somewhere and take on supplies,” Tyrian remarked.

  "So he's annoyed there will be another delay in getting to Rysalia Prime,” Aegean said.

  "No, he's annoyed that he hasn't had any Sustenance today!” Cree snarled at them then swung his attention to them. “Or any Triso."

  The women turned pale. Sustenance they could provide for him—and gladly—but the powerful neuroleptic drug Trisomidine controlled the nerve pathways of the brain that utilized the tissue chemical dopamine for the transmission of nerve impulses. It was used to keep a Reaper from Transitioning out of cycle. Since it was a highly addictive drug both psychologically and physically, Cree would begin to experience severe withdrawal symptoms exhibiting aggression, restlessness, and potentially hazardous mood swings. Apparently those symptoms were already beginning.

  Chanz got up quickly and came over to him, rolling up the sleeve of her jumpsuit as she walked. “Here, warrior. I will feed you."

  Cree glared up at her. “Get the hell away from me, wench,” he snarled.

  "You need Sustenance and I am..."

  "I can do without the Sustenance for awhile. I need my gods-be-damned Triso!” he shouted at her, his eyes glinting crimson. “I didn't get it yesterday and I haven't had it today. Do you know how dangerous I am to you? Move away!"

  Chanz backed away from him. She nearly tripped over her own feet when he shot up from the table and stormed away, throwing chairs out his path as he went.

  "Not good,” Chanz said.

  "I need to tell the Major,” Aegean said and was out of the lounge like a shot.

  "Where is he going?” Zainabu asked.

  "To the containment cell,” Chanz said. “He thinks he poses a threat to us and he does."

  "Did you see his eyes?” the Necromanian woman asked. “His eyes were red."

  "His cycles have been all screwed up since the ghoret bite and that gods-be-damned neuroinhibitor Sejm gave him,” Chanz reminded them. “Now without the Triso to keep them under control, he's on the verge of shifting again."

  "He is going into Transition?” Zainabu asked, her hand at her throat.

  "You had to know he would sooner or later, Zain,” Chanz answered. She glanced at the Major who had gone running past the door of the lounge, Dorrie close behind her.

  By the time Kahmal and Dorrie reached the containment cell, Cree was on all fours in the middle of the room. His sides were heaving and sweat was pouring down his face. He swung his head toward them and both women skidded to a stop for the transformation had begun.

  "Lock me in!” he ordered, his voice more growl than human speech.

  Kahmal sprang for the door, slamming it shut and engaging the lock just as Cree hit the door so hard it shuddered. She found herself staring through the thick plexiform glass into the enraged bestial face of a Reaper in full Transition. “Sweet Merciful Tethys,” Kahmal whispered. “What are we going to do?"

  "He needs his meds,” Dorrie said, trembling.

  Dragging in breath as though she'd run a ten-mile ma
rathon all out, Kahmal sprang back from the door as a huge paw studded with razor-sharp talons raked at the glass and a vicious howl echoed through the corridor.

  "Where are we going to get his meds?” Dorrie asked.

  Kahmal shook her head to clear it of the image that she knew would remain with her forever. “Oceania,” she managed to say.

  "Triso was outlawed on Oceania,” Dorrie told her. “Where else?"

  "Diabolusia."

  "Too far away."

  The Amazeen's eyes shifted from side to side as she thought then she lifted her head. “Ionary,” she said.

  “There are pharmaceutical warehouses there, aren't there?"

  "There were,” Dorrie said. “I wouldn't know if they still exist."

  "It's worth a try,” Kahmal said. She hurried away from the loud bangs and reverberations that were rocking the containment cell.

  Sern was awaiting their destination, her hands paused over the keyboard. “Where?” she asked as Kahmal took the bridge.

  "Ionary,” Kahmal said. “Guilder's Cay. There are..."

  "Pharmaceutical manufacturing units,” Sern said, nodding as her fingers flew over the keys. “How are we going to obtain the Triso?"

  "We sure as hell can't buy it openly,” Dorrie reminded them.

  "We'll have to break into one of the warehouses,” Kahmal said.

  "Just transport me inside,” Dorrie said.

  "There will be safeguards in place to prevent that,” Tyrian said.

  "She's right,” Sern said. “We'll have to get it on the black market."

  "Really?” Dorrie snapped. “And how do you think we will be able to accomplish that? Do you know anyone in the black market on Guilder's Cay?"

  "I do,” Zainabu spoke up. “My brother Demissie is an arms dealer. He will be able to find us what we need. I am sure of it."

  "They are going to question why an Amazeen LRC is asking for admittance to their air space,” Aegean said.

  "Tell them the truth,” Kahmal said. “We need to repair both our E.S.U.s and the duplicator. While Zainabu contacts her brother, we will purchase what we need to make our repairs."

  "And take on some supplies until we can do those repairs,” Chanz added. “They can't deny us entry when we have a legitimate reason for needing to land."

  "We need to pick up some clothes for our Reaper,” Tyrian suggested. “I expect what he had on is now shredded."

  "Undoubtedly,” Kahmal agreed. “And I don't have anything else that will fit him."

  "I can handle that,” Deon said. She held up a hand. “Ionary Fleet Command is hailing us."

  "Open a channel,” Kahmal instructed, “and give them our request.” She listened as Deon explained their problem to the I.F.C., nodding in agreement to the com officer's words. As soon as she heard the okay given for them to land, she relaxed and sat down in her command chair.

  "Let's hope they don't insist on inspecting us,” Aegean said. “This is a prison colony, remember?"

  "They'll be watching us, that's for sure, but more so when we leave than as we arrive,” Sern said. “How do we get hold of your brother, Zainabu?"

  "I know where he resides. I will go to him. Having him come here would be suspicious."

  "Aye, well, someone might question what a Necromanian woman is doing on an Amazeen ship,” Kahmal suggested.

  "I go to Rysalia Prime for the Feast,” Zainabu stated. “What other reason do I need?"

  "Works for me,” Dorrie pronounced.

  "I know nothing of Triso. Who will go with me to my brother's so we will get what we need?” Zainabu said.

  "Me,” Dorrie said. “I'm a med tech. I know exactly what to ask for."

  "Demissie will demand payment for the drug."

  Kahmal nodded and instructed Tyrian to fetch the box of credits from her quarters. “Bring it all."

  "Attention LRC the Alluvia ,” the Ionarian Fleet Command hailed. “You are not to attempt a docking until we have scanned your ship."

  "They'll see we have a man onboard!” Tyrian gasped.

  "He's not a man right now,” Sern said, lightly passing her psychic ability through Cree's mind. “He is all beast although he's more than aware of what's going on."

  Every woman on the bridge watched the IFC light scan as it pulsed slowly through their ship, inspecting everything on board.

  ""LRC the Alluvia ,” Ionary Fleet Command hailed them. “You are cleared to land. Please keep your were beasts onboard your vessel. We have strict laws governing such creatures. They are not welcome on Ionary."

  Kahmal smiled. “I bet that went over big with our Reaper."

  Sern winced at the outraged roar that came from the containment cell and ricocheted through her sensitive mind.

  The Alluvia landed an hour later at the busy docking hub on Guilder's Cay. Dozens of ships were taking off and landing at regular intervals and security troopers were everywhere, their dark blue uniforms and laser impulse rifles announcing their presence on the docking hub.

  "We had to land on a penal colony,” Chanz complained. “By the goddess I hope they don't decide to do a spot inspection and demand admittance."

  "They aren't about to board our ship,” Kahmal said. “Not with two were beasts onboard.” She turned to her crew. “Who's going to do what while we're here?"

  "'Dilla and I will scout for what we need to repair the duplicator and the E.S.U.s,” Chanz said.

  "I'll go shopping for some clothes for my.... “Deon stopped. “Who shall I say the clothes are for?"

  "Let me get the clothes,” Kahmal said. “No one will look twice at me when I mention the garments are for my breeders."

  "I imagine not,” Dorrie said.

  "I will also order enough supplies for the next two days,” Kahmal said. “I will have the supplies delivered while I am shopping for clothing."

  Sern, Deon, and Aegean stayed behind as Kahmal, Dorrie, Zainabu, Chanz and Tyrian left the ship.

  Aegean locked the ship down, keeping a close watch on the vid-coms to make sure no one tried to gain admittance to the Alluvia .

  * * * *

  Demissie Waberi was not happy to see his sister on his doorstep. He had not seen her in ten years and would have been just as happy to go another ten before having to deal with her again. He was less happy to see her accompanied by a white woman—a Terran at that. He stared down his hawk like nose at Zainabu, refusing to allow her to enter his hut. "What are you about, woman?” he demanded in his loud, base voice. “Why are you bothering me?"

  "We have business with you, my brother,” Zainabu said, not in the least inhibited by her brother's gruff manner. “Paying business."

  Sweeping his cautious gaze along the street, Demissie reluctantly stepped aside so the women could enter. “This had best be worth my time, Zain!"

  Dorrie wrinkled her nose at the harsh smell emanating from the interior of Waberi's abode. It was an overpowering stench that made her stomach juices curdle.

  "You are making ayana,” the Necromanian woman said. “It smells heavenly. Where did you find pig intestines on Ionary?"

  "You did not come here to discuss my culinary abilities. What is it you want?” her brother snarled.

  Zainabu looked to Dorrie.

  "A month's supply of Triso,” Dorrie replied. “Top-grade, pharmaceutical strength, as pure as possible."

  Waberi's eyebrows shot up. “You jest!” he said with a snort.

  Dorrie started to speak but stopped when the black woman at her side reached out, grabbed her brother by the front of his multi-colored caftan, and pushed him savagely against the wall. “Remember my J'Bai?” Zainabu hissed.

  "Lares?” Waberi questioned. “Of course, I remember him. What...?"

  "It is for a rafiki of my J'Bai. A man who deserves my aid for the great love he bore my J'Bai and my J'Bai bore him!"

  "No friend of Lares Taborn would willingly addict himself to Triso!” Waberi scoffed. “What game are you playing, Zain?"

  "It is for
the Prime Reaper Kamerone Cree!” Zainabu stressed.

  Dorrie groaned. “Why don't you just shout it to the world, Zainabu?” she growled.

  "Kamerone Cree?” Waberi asked in a small, hushed voice. “The Prime Reaper is here on Ionary? I had heard he fled to Terra."

  "He did but he was brought back by Amazeen bounty hunters who are now his friends."

  Waberi's face showed his disbelief. “Amazeens do not befriend males,” he stated.

  "They do when Attribution has been declared!” his sister exclaimed.

  "Attribution?” Waberi gasped. He stared at her—gauging her truthfulness—then narrowed his eyes.

  “Woman, if you are lying...."

  "He is on an Amazeen ship and in full Transition. The duplicator is down and he could not get the Triso needed to keep him human,” Zainabu said. “We need your help, brother. The man is in agony!"

  Waberi shifted his hooded gaze to Dorrie. When she did not look away, he narrowed his eyes. “Where are you taking him, Pale One?"

  "To Rysalia Prime,” Dorrie answered. “To rescue his bloodkin from the fires at the Feast of Alluvial."

  The black man brutally shoved his sister away from him and began pacing, his gaze riveted to the floor.

  “It is not a matter of obtaining the Triso. That I can easily do. I have a year's supply buried beneath this very floor. It is a matter of obtaining the kind a Reaper needs for his purposes. This is pure, and that I can only get from one of the pharmacy warehouses."

  "How long will it take you to do that?” Dorrie asked. “He needs the meds now and we don't have that long before we must be in Rysalia Prime."

  "We know about the planned executions, of course,” Waberi said, ignoring her question. “I also know there are others who are intent on stopping the Reaper cadets from being killed and are on their way there even now."

  "Others?” Dorrie repeated, fear running down her back. “What others?"

  "Serenians, members of a rebel force led by one called McGregor,” Waberi answered. “They bought weapons and electronics from me for their ship just yesterday."