Lyon's Pride Read online

  “I AM NOT PERMITTED TO DESTROY, SIR. MY ORDERS ARE STRICT.” Rojer fell back into ’Dini, hoping he could make his point better in that language. “YOUR ORDERS ARE TO WATCH, NOT DESTROY. ORDERS WHICH CAME FROM COORDINATOR GKTMGLNT AND ADMIRAL TOHL MEKTURIAN. THIS LOW PERSON CANNOT DISOBEY ORDERS.”

  “LOW PERSON RJR OBEYS THE ORDER OF PRTGLM NOW! OBEY.” Prtglm began to pulse and expand, a frightening aspect that rooted Rojer to the deck but did not alter his determination to disobey.

  “I am not permitted, Great One,” he repeated, dropping to one knee in an attitude of respectful subservience.

  “GREAT ONE PRTGLM, RJR IS FORBIDDEN BY HUMAN GREAT ONES TO DESTROY ANYTHING,” Gil said, inching forward with the greatest respect it could display.

  “THE HUMAN IS TO OBEY OR HUMAN WILL BE ON THE LINE.” Rojer could not believe what he heard.

  “I CANNOT OBEY CAPTAIN PRTGLM!”

  Fury engorged the captain now and, in a movement so swift Rojer could have done nothing to intervene, Prtglm’s top arms descended on Gil’s poll eye and smashed its immature body to the deck.

  “OBEY!” roared Prtglm and, lifting its great gory forearms, began the downward swing that would have also killed Rojer.

  “’PORT,” Kat cried, shoving Rojer to one side and taking the blow meant for him, which crumbled it beside the mangled body of Gil.

  ’Port Rojer did, out of the KTTS, and to the one place automatic reflexes could take him without conscious thought!

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  “WHERE the hell could he get to?” Captain Osullivan said, scowling with annoyance. “He knows the time he’s due here for the daily report.”

  “Sir?” Doplas said from his com station, “Ensign Menburia says that Rojer ’ported Captain Prtglm back to the KTTS at 1130. She logged that and saw them depart.”

  “’Porting doesn’t take Rojer more than thirty seconds. Where’d he go then? Did the ensign see?”

  “Sir, log says that Rojer accompanied the captain. At its request evidently. He had his ’Dinis with him.”

  “So?”

  “Com officer of the KTTS says that neither the Human Rojer nor his ’Dinis are on board.”

  “Is there a record of when Rojer ’ported back here?”

  “According to their records, the captain’s pod is still in place and the Human Rojer has not approached anyone on the KTTS. The big pod did not return here.”

  “Aw, now wait a bleeding minute…” Metrios began in total disgust. “If the pod is over there, on the KTTS, Rojer has to be there. Talents don’t generally ’port themselves about in a space vacuum. Dangerous. And what’s he been doing there for over eight hours anyway?”

  “I should very much like to know,” the captain said in a tight controlled voice.

  “This isn’t like Rojer,” Anis Langio said.

  “Dammit, Anis, I know that,” Osullivan said, shifting about in his command chair, his face grim. “Metrios, any power use consistent with a long-distance ’port?”

  “No, sir,” the engineering officer said with only the briefest of glances at his station printout. “And there’s no way Rojer could ’port all the way back to Aurigae, or even Clarf, which is spatially nearer.”

  Osullivan stared grimly at the digital time display as the seconds and hundreds turned over rapidly. His fingers rattled an agitated tattoo on his hand rest.

  “Sound a yellow alert. Ship’s crew to locate Mr. Lyon. This ship is to be searched stem to stern. Alert Captain Quacho. Doplas, I want to speak to Captain Prtglm.”

  “It hasn’t been available, sir,” Doplas said in a semiapologetic tone.

  “It’ll be available to me, Doplas!” Osullivan’s icy tone made Doplas’s fingers skip over the touchplates.

  “Prtglm is not available for speech,” the ’Dini com officer said. “PRTGLM IS NOT AVAILABLE,” it repeated in its own language to be sure the information was understood.

  “We search for Rojer Lyon,” Doplas said.

  “RJR LN REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THIS SHIP,” Osullivan added to be sure the ’Dini officer also understood.

  This time the ’Dini officer shook its upper body and then directed its poll eye fully at the screen. “NO HUMAN ON THE KTTS.” The screen went blank.

  “What’s all this about young Lyon disappearing?” demanded Captain Quacho, his image illuminating the main screen. “We’ve supplies to come in and I’ve two crew needing to go back on the carrier. I’ve been waiting for Rojer’s signal to bring them over.”

  “A full ship search is under way, Quacho. I understand Lyon’s disappearance no better than you do. And he’s not on the ’Dini ship!” Osullivan grimaced and he rubbed his jaw. If the boy had gone to the ’Dini ship, why hadn’t he come back aboard the Genesee?

  “Sir?” an excited voice immediately captured his attention. “Sir, one of the escape pods is gone.”

  “Which?” Osullivan snapped the query out in such a hard voice that even Doplas recoiled.

  “One-oh-eight, starboard, sir. And the controls were altered to make it appear to still be in place.”

  No one on the bridge needed to remark that the one-oh-eight pod was the one assigned to Rojer Lyon.

  “Has there been any activity towards the planet?” Osullivan demanded. When he received a negative reply, “Or toward that damned empty hull?”

  “No, sir. And I’m scanning for a recent ion trail.”

  “The boy wouldn’t have had to use the escape pod engine, Metrios,” Osullivan said, puzzled, angry and half-despairing. He had grown quite fond of young Lyon. The boy had conducted himself extremely well and been as helpful as he could, way beyond the scope of his original assignment.

  “Something happened while he was on board the KTTS,” Metrios said in a quiet, intense tone of voice.

  “His ’Dinis went with him?” Osullivan knew that they had but he grasped at that one possibility of finding out what happened.

  “Yes, sir, Ensign Menburia now reports that they slipped on board the probe before Prtglm or Lyon did.”

  “They often went with him,” Anis said softly.

  Osullivan waved his hand to cut off discussion. The boy had used an escape pod after a trip to the KTTS in Prtglm’s company. The ’Dini was determined to return home in honor. Suddenly, Osullivan jumped to a conclusion he did not like, not any aspect of it and not for any reason.

  “Let us hope he can reach his family safely.”

  Everyone on the bridge turned to stare at their captain and then began to exchange shocked glances. Metrios propped his head in his hands and stared down at the lights running their normal patterns on his board. Just then, they gave him little consolation.

  * * *

  Captain Osullivan, this is Jeff Raven. Why is my grandson not in touch with us?

  Etienne Osullivan had been expecting some form of contact from the FT&T Prime ever since the time for the usual daily call had passed, and still more seconds ticked by.

  “Earth Prime, he is no longer on board the Genesee. We had hopes that he has made his way back to you, or his homeworld.” Osullivan spoke aloud so that the bridge crew would understand that he was communicating with the Prime.

  Surely you realize, Captain, that Rojer is not able to make such a long distance ’portation without assistance. What has happened to my grandson?

  “We do not know, sir, and we are extremely worried.” The captain then detailed the known sequence of events leading up to the discovery of the missing escape pod. Then he cleared his throat. “Prime Raven, it is my belief, unsupported though it is, that Captain Prtglm may know either where Rojer is or why he left so abruptly. But the captain is unavailable. I request formal permission from Gktmglnt to board the KTTS and investigate.”

  That will be unnecessary, Captain, though the offer is certainly appreciated. I am informing the High Council of Prime Lyon’s disappearance. You may expect assistance shortly. Have the courtesy to await it.

  “Of course, Prime Raven.” Cap
tain Osullivan inclined his head in obedience to that directive and then sighed.

  Ask your medic for an analgesic, Captain. A direct send to a non-empath will produce an intense headache. Raven’s advice was kindly, and something unknotted in Osullivan’s midriff.

  “Someone’s coming,” he added, remembering no one else on the bridge had heard the message.

  “Soon?” asked Anis, her pretty face flushed with concern.

  “Can’t be soon enough,” Metrios said in a growl.

  “Aye!” The single word of accord came from many directions around the bridge.

  The sound reverberated with acutely felt echoes and Osullivan retired briefly to his ready room to find a painkiller before his brain burst through his skull.

  * * *

  Precisely three-quarters of a very long hour passed before a glad message was relayed from the cargo deck.

  “Passenger pod aboard, sir.”

  “Escort the passenger to the bridge immediately, Ms. Menburia.”

  “No need, Captain,” said a curt feminine voice, and the Rowan, a large dark grey ’Dini beside her, and Afra Lyon with a smaller ’Dini pair flanking him appeared on the bridge upper level.

  Osullivan shot to his feet and was halfway to the Rowan when she held up her hand to restrain his impulse. Once again he felt a mental touch and almost recoiled from a second experience.

  “Sorry, Captain,” the Rowan said with a fleeting smile. The pain went as quickly as it had begun. “It was the quickest way for me.”

  “We apologize for taking so long getting here,” Afra went on. “We stopped at appropriate intervals to listen.”

  “Ohhh,” and Osullivan breathed one single despairing note of denial.

  “My grandson is alive,” the Rowan added, her expression severe. Afra nodded a brief reinforcement of her statement. “We would know if he was not, if that affords you any consolation.”

  “It does.”

  “We must go aboard the KTTS. Do you have any pictures of its bridge configuration?” Afra asked.

  “Here,” Doplas said, pointing to his screen.

  “That’s enough,” the Rowan said and turned toward the engineering position. “You are Commander Metrios? I thought so. We will need a touch of power.”

  “All you want,” Metrios said, throwing his hands up in exaggerated relief at being able to do something. Their air of competence and determination revived him from the despair which had engulfed him since Rojer’s disappearance became known.

  The generators surged briefly and the group was gone. Someone breathed a “Wow!” of awe.

  “The Rowan?” Yngocelen asked in a low voice.

  Osullivan nodded.

  “I thought she never left Callisto.”

  “Not often, but she’s the clout needed,” Osullivan said, encouraged in spite of his pessimistic fears.

  “Sir?” Ensign Menburia’s voice sounded almost apologetic. “They brought the supplies, too.”

  “That boy must be found, safe and unharmed!” Osullivan said, bringing both fists down hard on the armrests. He had personal as well as professional reasons, and a few which would have repercussions that he didn’t want to think about, even clear-headed.

  “Aye, aye, sir!”

  * * *

  The Rowan had been angry before with the stupidity of people, or things, or avoidable accidents, but she had never been so frighteningly angry before. Even as Jeff had been receiving information from the Genesee, he had Gollee Gren contacting the Mrdini High Council representative stationed on Earth. Mrtgrts was not only a grey, Captain Prtglm’s color, but it was the High Councillor’s chief liaison official and had served two decades as manager of the ’Dini colony world, Sef. It immediately volunteered to accompany whomever the Earth Prime sent to investigate.

  The Rowan had informed Earth Prime that none other than herself would be the FT&T representative, having forcibly overruled her daughter, who felt she had the right to discover what had happened to her own son. Aurigae may not be without its Prime, Damia, and that’s that. But the Rowan had then relented sufficiently to ask Afra to accompany her. You can manage without Afra and he is the boy’s father. But Aurigae can’t manage without you.

  Then how is it that Callisto can do without its Prime? Damia had demanded caustically. He’s my son!

  And my grandson and I carry more clout. Callisto’s in occlusion or we’d’ve had to send Jeran.

  I’d rather you went, Damia had said, subsiding.

  We will find Rojer, dear girl. We will. You know he’s alive.

  Yes, I know he’s alive…. and Damia’s tone had dwindled off while leaving her mother with the full impact of her shock and despair.

  Now ’port your husband and your ’Dinis. We’ll need them almost as much as we’ll need me.

  The Rowan had almost balked at waiting for the cluster of supply pods destined for Squadron B but the handlers at Callisto had the pods attached with such alacrity that she didn’t have time enough to voice an objection.

  I’d hazard that the supplies are needed for the morale value if nothing else, Jeff said soothingly. Rojer seems to have been very well liked and Captain Osullivan is genuinely and deeply upset by his disappearance.

  And so he should be. A good lad. Not too cocky, either.

  The Rowan did not, however, wait until the encircling pods were removed by the Genesee cargo handlers but ’ported herself and her companions directly to the bridge. She heard Captain Osullivan’s apologies and a reiteration of the circumstances. Then she and Afra ’ported with their ’Dinis to the KTTS, where they were met by the next in command, another grey ’Dini of good size but one who instantly made deep obeisance to Mrtgrts.

  “THE PRESENCE OF PRTGLM IS REQUIRED,” Mrtgrts said, its tone coming from deep inside its strong large body.

  The poll eye of every ’Dini on the bridge was turned respectfully in its direction.

  “I, PRIME OF CALLISTO, REQUIRE THE PRESENCE OF PRTGLM NOW!” the Rowan said, drawing herself up to her full height. Despite being dwarfed by almost all the ’Dini bridge staff, she was so imperious in manner that she received equal respect and attention.

  “I, FR, SIRE OF RJR LN, REQUIRE THE PRESENCE OF PRTGLM,” Afra said, and he towered above everyone. Though he knew the ’Dini were not empathic, he allowed himself the luxury of radiating the anger and indignation that consumed him despite all his attempts to suppress such unmethody emotions.

  Trp and Flk, the ’Dinis who had lived with Damia and Afra for the past eighteen years, suddenly began to swell.

  “WE KNOW, WE GO,” said Trp, and with no further explanation, it and Flk ran, as nearly as their body shapes allowed them, to a bridge exit and disappeared. That precipitous departure caused some of the lower crew members to moan and prostrate themselves.

  Mrtgrts took charge, flicking one set of digits in a warning to the two Humans. The Rowan bridled, incensed to be ignored.

  Don’t, Rowan. Let Mrtgrts handle this. I’ve never seen such behavior from ’Dinis before and we must be patient.

  Patient? When we don’t know…

  We know that Rojer lives. If we can find out what caused him to run like that…

  A Gwyn-Raven doesn’t run, the Rowan began, her mental tone a vivid purple-red, she was so incensed.

  “There has been a command failure,” Mrtgrts told them suddenly and now it, too, made a humble inclination of its upper body to the Talents.

  “A what?”

  “Prtglm has attempted unilateral action that would not be approved by Admiral Mktrn or Gktmglnt.” Mrtgrts bowed again, its color paling to exhibit a degree of embarrassment that Afra had seen only in very young ’Dini miscreants.

  “What sort of action?” the Rowan demanded imperiously.

  “The Talent offspring of Afra Lyon became so deft at sending unseen probes that Prtglm saw the opportunity to destroy the function of this world forever.”

  Damn! The word exploded with ferocity in the Rowan’s livid mind
and included the actions which she desired to inflict on Prtglm’s person.

  “How dared it!” Afra’s fury matched the Rowan’s and Mrtgrts swayed back from them as if it felt the impact as a personal blow. “That was not the assignment my son accepted and that I, as his parent, approved, Mrtgrts. I do not know what punishment can be meted out to a personage of Prtglm’s rank and color but this is an unacceptable perversion of FT&T services and a gross affront to the pacific nature of FT&T personnel.”

  “All FT&T services will be withdrawn from…” the Rowan began, suddenly white and trembling with reaction.

  Flk and Trp returned, their pelts almost colorless.

  “THERE ARE MANY PUNITIVE MISSILES IN THE CARGO BAY. GRL AND KTG DIED ON THE LINE.”

  The Rowan’s face mirrored the horror both she and Afra felt.

  No wonder Rojer disappeared, she said in the saddest tone Afra had ever heard from her in all their long association. She swayed and he stepped close to support her.

  “ESCORT ME,” Mrtgrts told the bridge officer who had met them. Its whole body shuddering, it turned to another of the exits from the bridge facility, Flk and Trp falling in behind it.

  The Rowan made a move to follow but Afra restrained her and eased her onto the nearest stool before her knees buckled. Keeping one hand lightly under her arm to comfort her, Afra blanked out the flood of emotions she continued to broadcast. Far better for all if she dispersed as much of her feelings as possible where it could not be felt or heard before Mrtgrts returned.

  Why would Rojer’s ’Dinis be killed, Afra? Why? They were young, blameless.

  Rojer would have refused outright to ’port weapons of any kind, Afra said wearily, for he now had a sense of what had probably taken place. He oughtn’t really to have sent probes either, but certainly the knowledge that has been amassed is more than worth that slight deviation from his orders. But… Afra shook his head.

  We started these operations to clear the stars of Hive incursions, didn’t we? the Rowan began, and Afra was relieved by the healthier indignation of her mind.

  It was also mutually decided by the Alliance not to promulgate any attack against an entrenched Hiver position because we bloody well couldn’t succeed.