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Too devoid. Piras sensed the animosity lying beneath the placid exterior.
Tranis, who had a great deal of experience with how provoking Piras could be, tried to interject. “Nobek Kuran has stated his understanding of the position you were put in. He agrees Laro Station was the best of a horrible choice you had to make as our agent.”
“Yes, yes, it was a military target or a civilian one. Kuran’s brother was a soldier who would have welcomed the chance for the honor and glory he earned, had he known up front. It doesn’t matter, does it?” Piras waved Tranis off, his stare locked on the Nobek who stared back unblinking. “Cards on the table, Kuran. I don’t fuck around with pleasantries. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I understand why you did it. I also appreciate the action you took to save Haven, where my second brother was on the front lines to defend the planet. I can even say I’d have done the same to Laro in your place. As I told Admirals Hobato and Tranis, I can work with you to keep Earth safe.” Kuran’s teeth ground together, and anger finally appeared. “But if you and Captain Kila give me any justification to beat the hell out of you, I’ll take it.”
“Fair enough.” Piras dropped into the seat next to Tranis, across the table from Kuran. He waved a negligent hand. “Your fleet service record is exemplary. You’ve done well since you were assigned to Earth as a contractor. I have no reason to believe the situation will change.”
“But?” Kuran knew he was far from done.
“That being said, if you give me any sign your animosity toward Captain Kila and me will get in the way of Earth’s defense, I’ll have you off the planet so fast, you won’t remember you were ever there. You’ll probably leave on a hospital ship.”
It sounded like posturing. Piras hoped Kuran would realize what the other men in the room knew: his attitude was no pretense. He meant every word he said.
“Have we got a deal?” he pressed.
Kuran stared at him, his brow slowly lifting. Piras hoped he was seeing a hint of respect in those unblinking eyes. If he didn’t, it made no difference. His clan and Kuran were there to do their jobs. They didn’t have to like each other to carry out their coinciding missions of keeping the new planet safe.
The Nobek settled in his seat. He nodded once. “We have a deal, Admiral.”
“Good. Let’s discuss what we came here for.”
* * * *
Spyship orbiting Bi’is
I’m going insane.
Dramok Ilid was certain of it. Never mind it was too soon to go space crazy mere weeks into his year’s assignment on the spyship orbiting and investigating Bi’is. He was losing his mind.
The young man only felt safe in his cramped quarters. It was the sole place on the vessel where shadows weren’t moving in the corners, under tables and podiums, skirting along the walls. Everywhere else, they hung on fellow crewmembers who behaved normally on the surface, but felt like strangers.
The first instance Ilid had become aware all wasn’t right in his head had been when Nobek Ved had returned from his initial away mission to investigate the allegations of a secret lab on Bi’is. When he’d shown up at Ilid’s door that evening however, looking for some overnight companionship, there’d been no strangeness.
The weapons subcommander had admitted he hadn’t exactly felt like himself earlier. “This mission is mind numbing. Searching through endless communications, trailing Bi’isil scientists as they go about their day…all those damned rituals! I kid you not, Ilid, they must have a certain number of steps to go through just to take a piss. Bi’isils are absolutely the most boring species in existence. After a while, it was as if I watched myself go through the motions. We did everything we were supposed to, and we did it well, but our brains just kind of receded to the distance. I only started feeling alive again an hour after I got back to the ship.”
It was a relief Ved had recovered himself. As their night went on and nothing appeared amiss, Ilid had accepted his explanation unquestioningly.
However, it had happened again after Ved’s next mission to the enemy planet. The Nobek had returned and seemed to regard Ilid with a detached demeanor once more. When Ilid had dropped by his quarters, he’d been just as disconnected. No, not merely removed…but eyeing Ilid as if he were a sample to study. He imagined a barely hidden malevolence in Ved’s attitude. It had creeped him out to the point where the young Dramok’s skin had crawled when Ved touched him and invited him to stay the night. Ilid had offered the weak excuse he had an early morning shift and fled.
He'd made no further efforts to spend time with the weapons subcommander. He avoided Ved as much as his duties allowed. As more and more of his crewmates started acting indifferent or unkind, as had begun to happen in the form of thinly veiled insults, Ilid retreated from social interaction entirely.
It wasn’t difficult ducking Ved. Ilid’s commanding officer, Nobek Savir, began sending him on pointless errands when the away team was due to depart or arrive. Ilid was sent to deliver messages to mid- and high-level officers, which was strange because it would have made better sense for Savir to duck in his private office to com those men. Worse still, command staff had all adopted the malign indifference he’d seen in Ved.
The shadowy seen-but-unseen presences were most prevalent around them.
Ilid finally went to Medical to seek help for his hallucinations. When he was greeted by the ship’s psychologist and head doctor, both of whom wore those bland stares, he glimpsed shifting darkness hovering behind their backs. He jabbered about having insomnia instead of relating his strange thoughts. He was given sedatives to help him sleep after a minimal exam, and he escaped to his quarters.
“I should have told them. If it’s me, if it’s in my mind, then I need help,” he whispered to the empty room. Another bad sign, talking to himself. He curled on his sleeping mat and watched the corners of his cramped quarters, though his lights were up full. He refused to sleep in darkness nowadays.
Yet something else inside claimed he wasn’t seeing or imagining the strangeness surrounding him. His psych workup, a must for a spyship crewman prior to being sent on missions, had shown his mental state was well balanced.
Ilid eyed the sedatives. The psychiatrist Dr. Yambew had offered him a spiteful grin as he’d warned, “Don’t take too many at once. We don’t want you overdosing, do we?”
It was a strange comment. It had almost sounded like a suggestion. Why would he say such a thing?
Except Ilid had started thinking how nice it would be to not have to wake up and be scared. Such ideas terrified him as much as the strange but unprovable happenings.
