By the Sea of Sand Page 13

  She loved him and would always love him.

  With a subtle shift of their bodies, he eased inside her. His fingers circled on her clit as he filled her, and she couldn’t hold back her moan. She rocked her hips, urging him deeper. They moved together, no hesitation or fumbling.

  She lost herself in the pleasure. Too late for her to hold it back or worry that it might’ve triggered him, she cried his name when it overtook her. Shuddering, she turned her face to give him her mouth. His tongue stroked hers, his fingers never ceasing their magic. His teeth snagged her lower lip as he came, and the taste of blood flooded her mouth as another rush of climax washed over her.

  Relaxing against him, still connected, Teila wanted to let herself take the comfort of his bare skin on hers and couldn’t. Without moving, she whispered, “What changed?”

  He didn’t reply at first, and she wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. What answer could he give that would satisfy her?

  When he drew in a breath, she tensed, waiting for him break her heart anew. Before he could say a word, the door flew open. Pera shouted from the doorway, “Come quick! Stephin’s sick! He’s really sick!” And after that, all that mattered to Teila was getting to her son.

  Chapter 28

  It should’ve been easier than this. They ought to have been able to put out a call for the closest medicus, but a fresh storm outside had cut off external communications again. They’d sent Vikus and Billis in the landcruiser to the next town, but it would be hours before they returned with any help. They needed to help the boy now.

  “Input symptoms,” intoned the voice from the monitor. The medprogram was old, probably out of date, but this far out it was the only option they had.

  “Vomiting. Lethargy. Thready pulse. Pallor.” Jodah looked at the boy who lay in Teila’s arms without moving. He’d been that way for the past hour.

  The medprogram’s face was so neutral in its features it was impossible to tell if it were supposed to be male or female. It wasn’t three-dimensional, either. It clicked as it took in the information Jodah fed it, its face expressionless. It would’ve been better, he thought, if it had no face at all.

  “Diagnosing,” it said, then fell silent.

  “Mothers-forsaken thing,” Teila said. She dipped a cloth in water and tenderly wiped it over Stephin’s brow. The boy moaned a little but didn’t move. “He’s never been this sick before.”

  Jodah rapped the side of the monitor, hoping to jolt the program into action, but all that happened was that the screen flickered and went black. He muttered a curse and hit the power switch again, but when the blank face swam into view, not even the monotonous voice came out of it. The lips moved in silence.

  “It’s useless anyway. We need a medicus,” Teila said.

  In her arms, Stephin lay limp. Jodah touched the boy’s forehead. He was glassy-eyed, cheeks flushed, but no fever. When Jodah pushed open his mouth to examine inside, a cluster of white blisters caught his attention. They meant something, though he couldn’t remember what.

  He cursed again. “I’m missing something.”

  Teila bathed her son’s face again. “Vikus will be back soon, won’t he? Oh, Mothers. Please let him get back soon.”

  “I can help him. I know it.” Jodah reached for him, intending to put the boy on the bed, but Teila covered him protectively with her body.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Put him on the bed,” Jodah said gently. “I want to look him over. I feel like I can figure this out. I know I can.”

  “You’re not a medicus.” Teila shook her head sharply.

  The distrust on her face, so different from the way she usually looked at him, twisted Jodah’s guts but also thinned his mouth. He didn’t have the right to be angry with her, yet fury rose inside him at being balked. He fought it by backing up and turning his back on her. His fists clenched. He breathed in. Breathed out. The data stream scrolled and scrolled, spitting useless trivia at him instead of making the connections he knew were in there and would help him figure out how to help the boy.

  Blisters. Pallor. Lethargy. Vomiting.

  “Whale oil. Oh, Mothers,” he said. “Teila, the boy ingested whale oil.”

  “What? How?”

  “He must’ve gotten into it in the shed . . . I thought I put it away, but—”

  “Get out!”

  “I can help him,” he said in a low voice.

  Teila’s hoarse shout turned him. “No, you can’t! So why don’t you just get out! Get out of here! I can’t deal with you right now! You poisoned my child!”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but even an enhanced soldier, a Rav Gadol of the Sheirran Defense Force, was no match for a mother driven by terror for her child. Jodah nodded and backed away, closing the door behind him. Downstairs, he went to the kitchen, thinking to try the monitor as though the system might work better there. It didn’t, of course, since all the monitors were serviced by the same network.

  Which he could probably fix.

  It meant trying to access the data stream again. Pain throbbed in his skull and the base of his neck. It wasn’t a matter of simply focusing on the unending scroll, any more than he had to tell his legs “walk” before they’d move. Pulling what he needed from the constant analysis of his surroundings and putting it together into what he needed required concentration, yet couldn’t be accomplished with something as simple as a command.

  Thoughts rarely come in words. They’re images, memories, sounds. He needed to think his way to the solution. Stop trying to force it. He needed to embrace the data stream as part of him, not some alien thing.

  Standing in the kitchen, Jodah opened himself. His muscles went loose, fists uncurling, head drooping. He remembered the smell of the flowers in his dreams, the tickle of flowing hair on his face . . . His mind reached, reached for the memory of how to fix a viddy network . . .

  So entrenched in what he was doing, Jodah at first didn’t move when the back door flung open and Billis staggered in with a bleeding Vikus in his arms. Vikus was screaming. Billis too, but Jodah couldn’t understand a word either of them were saying. Their screams brought Venga running, but the old man skidded to a stop at the sight of all the blood.

  “No,” he said. “It wasn’t supposed to—”

  “Get out of the way, old man.” Rehker came from behind him, pushing him aside. “By the Three, Billis. Stop hollering and put him on the table.”

  As Billis struggled to get his brother on the flat surface, all hope of accessing the data stream for any useful purpose vanished. Jodah went with Rehker to the table, both of them reaching for Vikus, who spat and struggled despite the many gashes all over his face and arms.

  “Wrecked,” he cried. “Someone cut the landing wires, we only got a few cliks before we flipped into a ditch!”

  Billis, pale and shaking, clutched Vikus hand. “We rolled into a ditch. We were going really fast.”

  “Someone,” Vikus panted as his eyes rolled up in his head, “did it on purpose.”

  Then he passed out.

  “Move away.” Rehker unlaced the front of Vikus’ robes. “We need to stop the bleeding.”

  Pera had appeared as well, dark circles shadowing her eyes. She hovered to one side, a hand over her mouth as she watched Rehker press a cloth to one of the worst wounds. Jodah thought she was holding back a sob but, to his disgust, the bitch was laughing.

  “You’re making it worse!” Billis tried to shove Rehker away, but was no match for the soldier.

  Rehker shoved back twice as hard, sending Billis to the floor. Apparently it wasn’t enough for him to toss Billis to the ground, because he then kicked him in the ribs. When the younger man howled and writhed, Rehker slammed his foot onto Billis’ chest, pinning him. “Stand down! Stand the fuck down!”

  Pera laughed from the corner, both hands now covering her mouth. She sounded both desperate and pained, like every guffaw ripped something inside her. Jodah didn’t
have time for her. Grabbing the back of Rehker’s robes, he tore him away from Billis, who’d gone as silent as his wounded brother.

  Rehker came up swinging, one fist connecting with Jodah’s jaw hard enough to send them both sprawling apart. Pain bloomed, but Jodah shook it off. Truthfully, the pain only fueled him. Triggered him into action.

  He grabbed Rehker again, holding him close enough to punch his face several times in succession. Blood spattered. Jodah’s knuckles split over the same wounds from the last time he’d hit the man. More pain. Baring his teeth, he snapped them at Rehker, who jerked out of the way at the last moment.

  Behind them on the table, Vikus stirred. Pera was on him in a flash, her hands on the front of his robes. Busy with Rehker, Jodah couldn’t do more than glance their way, but Venga had come forward. He and Pera struggled. Venga was bigger, but Pera younger and stronger. She pushed the old man down and bent over him. A blade flashed in her hand.

  “No!” Jodah cried as she stabbed the old man in the chest. Blood gouted in a thick, pumping stream.

  In that moment of distraction, Rehker grabbed a cooking pot from its place on the counter and slammed it against the side of Jodah’s head. The world tipped and spun. Then went black.

  Chapter 29

  Sunsrise was Teila’s favorite time of day. It hadn’t always been so—as a child her amira had always had to pull her from the covers, and as a young woman she’d taken on the habit of staying up late and waking late, too. Becoming a mother had changed those habits out of necessity, not desire, but her reluctant embrace of the early morning had become genuine appreciation after too many interminably long nights sitting up with Stephin, who’d suffered from night terrors for one full cycle. Only daybreak soothed him, and Teila had come to cherish the first rising glimmers of pink and gold in the black night sky. She could only pray now that sunsrise would see her child recovering.

  He’d never been so sick. This was more than random childhood illness. There’d been a few times in Stephin’s brief life when Teila had feared losing him—once when he’d been missing for half a day after hiding in an empty cupboard and being trapped there. Once when he almost fell from an upper balcony as she watched, screaming, until Vikus managed to pull him back inside. And now, when no matter what she tried, he got sicker and sicker.

  More blisters had broken out all over his mouth, spreading across his pale, plump cheeks. He no longer even moaned when she shifted him. His skin had been cool and clammy before, but now heat had risen all over his body. He lolled in her arms.

  “C’mon, baby,” she whispered. “Please, come back to Mao.”

  Carefully, she put him on the bed so she could go to the monitor again and see if the medprogram had come back online. The screen crackled with noise when she tried to tap in a few commands, but nothing happened. Acid burned her throat when she looked at her son, lying so still. She needed to know what to do to treat him. They needed a medicus or the medprogram and now, or her boy might be lost to her before sunsrise.

  She went to the door, hating to leave him for even a moment but needing do find out if Vikus had come back or if Jodah had been able to get the network running. The moment she set foot in the hallway, the lights flickered and went out. Teila froze, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark.

  And it was dark, she realized. Completely. No light sweeping back and forth from the lamp room. She hadn’t checked it at nightfall, her attentions focused on Stephin, but it still should’ve turned on automatically.

  Outside, lightning flashed as another storm came in close on the heels of the last one. It might’ve explained the lights going out in the hallway, but not the lamp. If the main solar cells were somehow disrupted, the lighthouse went on auxiliary power from the backup cells. The only way the lamp wouldn’t go on was if something had happened to it.

  Fresh worry warred with her, not coming close to displacing her growing terror about her son but adding to it. Teila put a hand out, seeking the wall. She found something else instead.

  A solid body. Warmth. Before she could recoil, a hand grabbed her wrist. Held her tight. Another hand covered her mouth before she could scream. She was backed up against the wall hard enough to slam her head. An arm came up beneath her chin, pressing her throat.

  “What do you think you’re up to?” breathed a low and trembling male voice directly into her ear. Rehker. Teila shuddered, but couldn’t answer. He didn’t seem to expect one. A knee nudged between her legs, a fierce pressure devoid of any sensuality. “How’s your boy?”

  She made no attempt at even a muffled retort; she bit, instead. She choked on the foul taste of his blood, but didn’t let go even when he began shaking her. He dug his fingers into her hair and slammed her head against the wall. Again. Once more, until she fell from him, slack and faint. She went to her knees, ears ringing, stars bursting behind her eyelids.

  “Oh, look,” the man said from above her as another flash of lightning illuminated the hall. “It’s a whaler. A big one, a crew of sixty or more I’d say. I surely hope they know enough to stay far away. Not run aground.”

  “The lamp,” Teila managed to say.

  “The lamp is out.” More lightning and at last she could see his face. Rehker sneered and nudged her with his toe. “The lamp will stay out.”

  “Why would you . . . ?”

  “Let’s just say I needed that equipment for other things.” In another flash from outside, his grin was wide and terrible. He bent in front of her face, the heat of him so close she knew if she snapped her teeth it would catch his flesh. “Other, other things.”

  From outside, far away, she thought she heard the slap of a ship against the sands. It had to be her imagination, just like the sounds of men screaming had to come from memory, not whatever was happening out there now. When Rehker moved away from her, Teila struggled to her feet.

  “You have to turn on the lamp.”

  “No. I don’t. I told you,” he said in a low voice that was not very much like the one she was used to but still eerily familiar, “I need the equipment in the lamp room for other things.”

  “What could you need it for?” With the wall at her back, Teila was able to orient herself. Her bedroom door was across from her and to her right. The lamp room, all the way to her left at the end of the hall and up another short flight of stairs.

  “They will all die. All of them die. All of you die, too. That boy of yours, Teila. He’s going to die. Did you know that? You can fix the lamp or you can fix your boy, Teila. Which do you choose?”

  “You shut your mouth,” she said fiercely. “Vikus is bringing—”

  Rehker laughed. “Vikus? That useless pup. He isn’t bringing anyone. If he’s not dead yet himself, the dear Pera will have taken care of him. Much the way she took care of your boy, though much more swiftly, I’d think.”

  Teila staggered toward the sound of his voice as another flash of light lit them both. “What do you mean? What have you done?”

  “Chaos,” whispered Rehker in a voice that sounded like love. “Anarchy. Disbandment. Downfall. You want to know why?”

  She didn’t have to ask him why. She already knew. She’d known the moment the first flash of lightning had lit his face.

  Rehker had gone over.

  Chapter 30

  Jodah wasn’t out for long. His enhancements kicked in, sending blood flowing to the places that needed it, expanding his lungs to bring in fresh oxygen. He was on his feet before he actually became aware of what he was doing.

  He didn’t remember grabbing her, but he had Pera by the back of her neck. She flailed, but unlike Venga, Jodah wasn’t old or infirm. The fragile stem of her throat threatened to snap when he shook her.

  “What are you doing?” Jodah demanded.

  The lights went out. It didn’t matter to him—he could see as well in the dark as in the light. But Pera fought him harder, kicking and biting at him like a wild animal. She began to scream in breathless, panting gasps. He didn’t have time for
a temper tantrum. He shook her again until her teeth rattled.

  “Don’t worry about me!” she screamed through horrifying laughter. “You should be paying attention to something else, something other than that bitch’s spawn! You can’t help him anyway, there’s no cure!”

  Jodah went still. Pera still dangled in his grip. Vikus groaned from the table as unsteady Billis leaned over him. Venga didn’t move and made no sound.

  Jodah brought her very close to his face and bit out each word. “What did you do?”

  “Whale oil. I gave him whale oil!”

  “Why?” Oh, by the Three, Jodah’s stomach twisted as he remembered now, Pera in the shed while he put away the whale oil. He stopped himself from breaking her neck right then, but only barely. “Why, Pera?”

  Her eyes fluttered. She couldn’t see him as anything more than shadows, but every line of her face, every pull of her expression were clear as glass to him. Her features shifted rapidly through every emotion. Hilarity, fear, desire, surprise, all in rapid succession and not as though she had any control over it. A low, grinding noise came from deep in her throat, and froth appeared in the corners of her mouth.

  “I remember,” she said, jerking in his grip.

  Her eyes opened wider, staring into his though he knew all she could see was darkness. All of her muscles twitched and spasmed, making her kick and squirm. Then, she calmed.

  “Oh, Mothers. I remember everything now.”

  She’d dropped the blade she’d used on Venga, but all good soldiers carried more than one weapon, and no matter what she’d become, Pera must once have been a very good soldier. The knife came up and across before Jodah could step back, so the blade caught the edge of his arm. But her slice wasn’t meant for him. She’d aimed for her own throat, gouging deep and without mercy. No chance of saving her. The suicide act was a maneuver they’d all been trained in.