Second Don: Ardulum, Book 2 Read online

  “Second of the holy books, huh?” he asked before silently scanning the page. When he finished, he put the pad down and looked appraisingly at Neek. “The Eld are the leaders, that much I know. Is there something else I am supposed to be getting out of this?”

  Neek picked the pad back up and shut it off with a quick swipe. “Many Talents, Nicholas. As in, more than one.”

  “Yeah, but couldn’t that just mean more than one because they each had one? So therefore, there were many Talents?”

  “Maybe. But maybe not. I have to check the other editions. But if an eld can have more than one Talent…”

  “Emn potentially being of the ruling caste isn’t what this is about, Neek, and you know it.” Nicholas brought his hands down and tilted his head. “Be reasonable. She’s Emn. She’s our Emn. Eld, Ardulan, or Risalian construct, treating her with deference and piety isn’t going to help anything. She certainly doesn’t know the protocol for Neek-Ardulan interactions. Why should you care?”

  “Right,” Neek muttered. “So, if the next wayward passenger we get on our ship is baby Jesus or Buddha or some other Terran deity, I’ll be sure to remind you that protocol is irrelevant.”

  Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Fine. Then don’t talk. Spend some time together. Get to know her as the adult she is, not the little kid we rescued. If she starts turning water into wine, call me.” A smirk crept across his face as he stood, hunched, and opened the door to the hallway. “Emn said we should arrive at Risal in the next twenty minutes, assuming a Mmnnuggl pod doesn’t try to take us out again. Your time in your cave here is almost up. Emn and I will be waiting for you in the cockpit when you’re ready to face her or bow down in reverence. Whatever suits you.”

  Neek halfheartedly tossed a pad at Nicholas as the door slid shut behind him. After waiting a moment to make sure he wouldn’t reappear, she picked up the pad with the Eld passage, took a deep breath, and swiped to the next page. She could do this. She could stay focused on their goal of finding the traveling planet. She just had to ignore the woman in the cockpit, the emotions that kept bubbling to the surface, and what all those Talent markings could mean if they ever landed on Ardulum.

  Chapter 3: Mmnnuggl Pod, Risalian Space

  We have become increasingly interested in the Terran who travels with the captive Risalian Ardulan. We have included select video of their interactions to date. Request guidance on how best to proceed.

  —Tightband communication from the small Mmnnuggl pod Bysspp, to the Mmnnuggl president’s office, Third Month of Arath, 26_15

  WETNESS RAN ALONG her ear canal. Emn tilted her head, allowing several drops of maroon blood to trickle out. She checked the area where they fell, but just as before, the texture of the floor hid the blood from view. Relieved that there wouldn’t be awkward conversations when Neek finally surfaced, Emn slid her mind from the interface, the pressure inside her skull waning.

  They’d entered Risalian space only moments ago. While Emn wasn’t looking forward to communicating with the Risalians, she did understand the reasoning. Besides, if the Risalians did have information on Ardulum, the crew might finally—finally—be able to leave the Charted Systems and find the planet from which her progenitors originated. They might find her genetic family, however distant, and maybe, just maybe, find a place where she wasn’t hunted for her abilities.

  “You have to tell her,” Nicholas said. He pushed himself out of a lean and pointed to where Emn’s blood had fallen. She’d been interfacing with the ship all the way through the wormhole and hadn’t noticed Nicholas return to the cockpit. That meant Emn was getting a lecture, one way or the other. Annoyed, she tugged at the fabric across her chest, the sensation something she was still getting used to, and turned to look at Nicholas. She’d have much preferred a lecture from Neek.

  Nicholas’s eyebrow rose. “This is the fourth time I’ve seen you bleed from interfacing with the ship. If your physiology is so incompatible with it, then Neek needs to know. We need to find another ship.”

  Emn dabbed at her ear with a finger, ensuring the canal was clean, and then straightened the front of her dress. She’d already stopped the bleeding. The blood vessel breaks had been small—only minor capillaries affected—and healing was simple first-don stuff. Except, each time she synced with the ship, the pain was worse. What had started as a light buzzing during her time on the Mmnnuggl flagship Llttrin, during the Crippling War, was now a pressure that thumped between her skull and brain. It was ever-expanding, pulsed behind her eyes, crushed blood vessels, and had her leaking maroon from her ears and nose.

  After sitting down against the black paneling, Emn looked at her lap. The dress, which she’d managed to keep mostly clean of blood, was tight in areas she’d not anticipated. It clung to her hips and chest, highlighting the most notable changes since her metamorphosis. It was… Could something be uncomfortable and yet comforting at the same time? She was an adult. There was no denying that, not with something so formfitting. Emn enjoyed the visual reminder of who she had become.

  “For me to discuss any of this with Neek, she’d have to actually talk to me. Right after the Crippling War, I thought we had broken through that layer of self-doubt, or whatever makes Neek so rigid around me, but I guess not.” Emn went to pull at the front of her dress again before catching herself.

  Nicholas ran his hands through his thick hair and shook his head. “You’re telepathically connected. You don’t have to be in the same room to talk.” Just as he had when she was in first don, Nicholas plopped beside her so she could lean into him. The reminder of their friendship helped ease the thumping in her head. She was forever grateful that Nicholas didn’t seem at all uncomfortable with the changes she’d undergone.

  “Do you think it looks all right?” Emn asked, looking down at the front of her dress.

  Nicholas snorted. “You look like a woman in a dress, Emn. It fits well. Your chest looks normal, if that’s what you’re asking, although you’ll crease the fabric if you keep pulling at it like that. If you want more specific feedback, there’s a different person you should ask. I know you don’t have a perpetually open connection, but even if she’s closed down, you could still nudge her. It’s good for her.”

  Emn returned the half smile, imagining how Neek would react if she just started chatting to her through their link about mundane things, like constellations or cellulose biometals, or if she actually asked about the dress…

  As if Neek had been listening, the door abruptly slid open, and the room was filled with the distinctive sound of booted feet. Emn and Nicholas stood up.

  Neek took a moment to stretch, reaching her hands up over her head and letting her sixteen fingers, eight per hand, brush the ceiling. This was the only room in the small Mmnnuggl pod where any of them could stand upright, and it was blissful to do so. Stretching pulled the fabric of the flight suit taut against Neek’s chest and Emn let her eyes linger, careful to ensure the image did not leak across their bond. They needed Neek in the cockpit, captaining, not hiding in her room. She didn’t need to know about Emn’s burgeoning…something. Not yet, anyway. Still, Emn followed the tightly braided red-blonde hair to her narrow shoulders and then to her wide hips partially hidden in a baggy flight suit. Neek had her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and Emn wrinkled her nose without meaning to. The lighting in the pod did not go well with Neek’s olive-brown complexion. Realizing that she had probably stared for a bit too long, Emn walked back to the viewscreen.

  “Looks like such a harmless planet from out here,” Neek said as her arms fell to her sides. Currently filling the floor-to-ceiling viewscreen was Risal, its orange algae oceans and brown landmasses looming above them. Risal’s two moons, the red Korin and white Rath, buffered the planet on either side. At their current position, the shadows from the sun overlapped Risal in two intersecting crescents, leaving a thin hourglass shape of lit land. Two cutters were in orbit around Korin, docked next to one another near the moon’s north pole.

&n
bsp; Emn knew more than she cared to about those moons. She had no firsthand memories, but being synced to the late Captain Ran’s cutter had given her data on both. Rath was used as an andal plantation, although it was not a very successful one. Korin, in contrast…Korin was likely where she had been born. Emn probably had had siblings there, perhaps other genetic parents as well. They’d be dead, of course, like all the Risalian Ardulans, but that didn’t make the moon any less oppressive.

  Her focus was suddenly returned to the cockpit. Confused, Emn blinked, trying to clear her vision, and then realized what was happening. Her thoughts must have leaked. Now, instead of Korin, she was seeing herself through Neek’s eyes, their connection taut. It was strange to see herself from the back—a woman in a knee-length, gray dress with shoulder straps and a flared hipline, tracing a finger over the moon’s image. Her black hair held only hints of the red that shone in her youth, and the moonlight highlighted the dark veins that streaked across her translucent skin. Patterns emerged, if one looked long enough—and Neek was—patterns of geometric shapes bound tightly together, distorted and intersecting. Several words bounded across their link despite Neek’s best efforts to rein them in. One in particular struck Emn as odd.

  Beautiful.

  Except, calling the markings such belied their daunting mythos and marginalized Neek’s history. Emn tossed the word aside, conscious of its relevance but unwilling to call it to Neek’s attention.

  Emn chanced speaking, her mind caught in a spiral of the past. “How many Risalian Ardulans were at the Korin facility, do you think, at the end of the Crippling War? How many died there? One hundred? One thousand?” Korin could no longer be seen on the viewscreen, but the moon lingered in Emn’s vision.

  A bright, green light shot across the interface.

  “Is that normal?” Nicholas asked as the light repeated. “Did we break the ship?”

  Emn put her hands back on the interface, closing her eyes. Pressure raced into her head as soon as the connection reestablished. Blood vessels burst instantly, but Emn didn’t bother to stem the flow. “It would appear our new signal identifier is not working. We have a priority communication from one of the cutters.” She opened one eye, ignoring the blood threatening to drip from her nose, and looked at Neek. “It says they’re glad we could make it and want to know when the rest of the delegates will be arriving.” She paused and considered. “What’s going on?”

  Blood began to drip from Emn’s nose before anyone could answer. She tried to discreetly catch it on her shoulder, but Neek pulled her forward, snatching Emn’s hand from the panel and her consciousness from the interface. Momentarily disoriented, Emn wove into Neek’s mind. Neek sighed, pulled a small square of cloth from her pocket, and gingerly wiped the affected area.

  Soft cotton traced Emn’s lips. Fingers brushed her cheeks. Neek’s movements were surgical, but Emn’s mind still wandered. Not wanting to create any additional tension between them, Emn pulled away and tried to focus on the current problem.

  Neek, you’ve severed my connection. Emn winced as Neek persisted and brushed her nose bridge, checking for breaks.

  You’re the only one who can fly this thing, Emn. Hell, I can’t even work the food printers without your help because of the intricate telepathic interface. I don’t want you bleeding out in the cockpit.

  Emn caught Neek’s hand in hers. Is this what it takes to get your attention?

  Neek pulled back as if stung. “I’m not avoiding you,” she said out loud.

  “Yes, you are,” Nicholas said. The large cutter broke away from the moon and accelerated towards them. “Let’s table that for a minute though. What sort of delegation do you think they think we’re from?” He furrowed his brow. “We’ve been keeping up with the Galactic News Network broadcasts. The Risalians have been busy installing the new Markin and soliciting volunteers for sheriff forces. That’s plenty to keep them busy. How could they have time for anything else?” He paused and considered. “You don’t think the Nugels are sending diplomatic envoys to Risal, do you? That’d be…awfully nonviolent of them considering all the trouble they just went through to wipe out the Risalian Ardulans.”

  “It does seem really unlikely, but I don’t think we should make assumptions about the Risalians. Not after this last month.” Neek edged closer to the panel, keeping her distance from Emn. “If they think we’re Nugels, maybe they’ll be more open with us. Emn, would you send them a message that asks for an itinerary of the visit? Maybe that will give us some information.”

  Frustration rose in Emn, but she pushed it down. They needed to have a proper conversation about what had just transpired, but it’d have to wait. She reengaged with the ship, her eyes back to staring at the shiny, black paneling instead of Neek. “This would be an ideal opportunity to just shoot them,” Emn muttered as she transcribed the message into the relay. “They’ve fired enough times on us without any reason for a warning shot to be well-deserved.”

  “No,” Neek said abrasively. “We need information from them, remember? Shooting is not going to help us achieve that.”

  Emn waited for yet another reproach, or even for Neek to run away again. Instead, Neek scuffed her boots over the floor. When she did speak again, her tone was tempered. Hesitant.

  “If you want to avoid interacting with the Risalians, the pod’s logs are the only other option for finding coordinates.”

  Emn closed her eyes, catching some blood on the back of her hand as she did so. The logs. She’d tried repeatedly to access them. They were nestled somewhere near the life support systems, bundled in wires and cellulose and chips that took too long to untangle from the air compressors and heating. The concentration required to retrieve them brought her to her knees in pain each time she had tried. Of course, it was her own fault that Neek didn’t know that, although Neek hadn’t exactly been around to see.

  Another green light shot across the panel.

  “They’re saying these are just preliminary negotiations, so they didn’t prepare an agenda,” Emn recited as the information relayed from the ship into her mind. “Now they’re asking if we have anything specific we would like to address other than hemicellulose and the Ardulans.”

  “Genetic salvage operation?” Nicholas asked seemingly no one in particular. “I’d have thought the Risalian Ardulans were moot at this point. Also, who cares about hemicellulose anymore?”

  Nicholas’s words, while clearly unintentional, hurt more than the interface. Emn debated whether or not to mention it, when a proximity alarm chirped. After checking the message, Emn changed the view on the screen to aft. From the throat of the Risalian wormhole, three small Mmnnuggl pods and one large pod frigate emerged on a clear intercept course. The Risalian skiffs made no move to engage them.

  Emn’s frustration pushed warmth into her cheeks. As soon as they had left Craston, the Mmnnuggls began trailing them. She was tired of the constant Mmnnuggl pursuit. It had been easy enough to disable any pods before they could get a shot off, but when would they give up and let her get some rest?

  “After us, or here for the meeting? Emn, could you disable them if needed?” Neek asked.

  “If they were tailing us, they’re just going to keep coming, Neek,” Nicholas returned. “It’s been weeks. We’re never going to shake them in one of their own ships. Disabling them is accomplishing nothing.”

  Neek raised an eyebrow. “Are you advocating for shooting them?”

  Nicholas kicked the wall. “No! Just…we need another strategy. Like, say, using the wormhole generator and leaving the Systems. Getting another ship. That sort of thing.”

  “I don’t think any of that is necessary,” Emn cut in. “Those pods seem to be expected.” Emn pointed at the screen. The Risalian ships were now moving in tandem with the pods. The group changed heading and circled to Korin, the second cutter already disappearing behind the far side of the moon.

  “We should probably follow them, if we don’t want to seem out of place. Neek?” Em
n didn’t mention her desire to shoot at the pods. This entire situation was starting to mirror the Crippling War a little too closely.

  “Neek, we should talk to the Risalians,” Nicholas interjected. “We’ve come all the way here. This is our one chance with them. We shouldn’t waste it. If they have coordinates, we can just pop them in the wormhole generator and go, maybe lose our Nugel tail, too.”

  Neek shook her head, although Emn could feel her desire to leave the Systems and ignore the whatever-it-was brewing behind Korin. She didn’t blame her. They were in no place to get involved in another conflict.

  “We’ll play along for now,” Neek declared. Her tone was crisp, but even Nicholas raised an eyebrow to Emn. He’d apparently caught the hesitancy, too. “I want to know why the Risalians are parleying with a species that slaughtered hundreds of unarmed civilian ships. Besides, I have reservations about the generator.” This time, Neek’s tone was serious. Their link tightened, as if Neek wanted to be certain Emn was listening. “With the connection problems Emn’s been having, trying out a new piloting system might not be the best course of action.”

  Emn closed her eyes and let out a long breath. So, Neek did know, then, about her problems connecting—or perhaps she’d caught the edge of Emn’s pain during her last interface. It didn’t matter. Blood leaked from Emn’s nose before she could catch it and hit the floor. Emn mentally cursed her body’s poor timing.

  “We can’t go on this way, Emn.”

  Nicholas swallowed a laugh, and Emn bit back what she wanted to say. Instead, she edged the pod towards Korin and then turned to look Neek in the eyes.

  “Do you have a suggestion for how to better deal with the issue between us?”

  Neek held her hands out, her eyes landing on anything except Emn. “I meant the ship! The interface with the ship.”

  Nicholas winked at Emn.