Wielding an easy confidence Blythe found herself envying, Deram took her arm. She lost the ability to think lucidly again, long enough for him to urge her toward a nearby restaurant before she realized she was going along uncomplaining. As she readied to set her heels, Hadlez took her other arm. He smiled so sweetly at her, Blythe couldn’t think of a single reason why she shouldn’t have dinner in their company.

  “You’re paying,” she finally managed.

  “Of course. It will be my pleasure,” Deram assured her, the voltage of his grin never dimming.

  * * * *

  Kalquor

  “My son, you’re safe. I’m here.” Gruthep spoke in Ilid’s ear as his child’s exhale neared its end and his scream lost strength.

  Ilid’s eyes flew open. His body tensed as he attempted to throw himself forward on the medi-bed he slept on. The partial stasis field enclosing him kept him from doing so. His gaze darted around, following unseen horrors.

  Gruthep bracketed Ilid’s sweating face between his hands. Hands he’d thought strong, which had fended off and killed enemies. Hands too weak to defend his son from the monsters living in his head. Useless, useless hands.

  The Nobek bent close anyway, willing his child to recognize him. “I’m here, Ilid. My heart, look at me. You’re safe.”

  Ilid blinked rapidly. Recognition flooded his gaze for an instant. Then shame and guilt. Agony knifed Gruthep’s gut.

  He kept his voice steady. “Here you are. Here’s my boy. Here’s my precious son.”

  Gruthep pressed his lips to Ilid’s forehead as the tormented young man dissolved in a storm of weeping. Every sob Ilid uttered shoved the point of the father’s grief deeper, but he merely stroked his hair and whispered as comfortingly as he was able.

  Little by little, the crying eased. At last, Ilid said, “They should have let me die.” As awful as the emotional outburst had been, his defeated tone was worse.

  Codab appeared at the opposite side of the bed. “I’m glad they didn’t, my son. A miracle brought you home. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you.”

  The door hissed open. Jadel peered in questioningly. He’d hustled a protesting Diju from the room as soon as Ilid’s screams had begun. “He’s awake?”

  Diju shoved past him and dashed forward. “Ilid, I’m here.”

  Ilid allowed her to wrap her arms around him. He even rested his cheek on her shoulder, but his expression was distant. Gruthep had witnessed that terrible mix of apathy and grief in the mirror after his deadly encounter with the Tragooms: a yearning to leave life, yet unable to let go. As awful as it was to see, he felt relief. Despite his son’s suicide attempt, he wasn’t quite gone in his heart. As long as a spark remained, Ilid might hang on. They had to tend the tiny, flickering flame carefully until he flared to life again.

  * * * *

  Gruthep scowled at Dr. Degorsk. The men of Clan Codab had joined the psychiatrist in the hall beyond Ilid’s room when he’d arrived. Diju remained at their son’s side, sneaking him small baked sweets she’d smuggled in and catching him up on the latest gossip. He’d managed a few smiles for her in the last couple of hours since waking.

  “It’s a setback, no doubt. A combination of the trauma and his determination to not subject you to it has brought him to a point I’d hoped we wouldn’t see.”

  “Yet you insist he must do more.” Gruthep liked Degorsk and appreciated the fleet’s need for Ilid’s help, but he was focused on his son’s recovery.

  “Within reason. I won’t lose him.” Degorsk sighed. “The trick is finding a balance. Ilid needs time to and space to heal. At the same instant, the safety of the empire depends on him.”

  “He sent the warning. He allowed you to take the brain scans. He’s done his fair share for the empire,” Jadel seethed.

  “I agree. Ilid is shattered from what happened. He’s received his discharge, and the fleet needs to leave him alone.” Codab’s tone brooked no refusal.

  In case their opinion needed further support, Gruthep added, “Duty and honor be damned, Doctor. If Ilid wants to help, that’s his call. Until he’s well enough to offer, you can tell the fleet to back off. I won’t allow it to destroy my son.”

  * * * *

  Hope and Lokmi gazed at the sample of bacteria through the microscope vid monitor. Its lack of movement didn’t require the computer’s assessment.

  It shared its findings anyway. “The sample is lifeless.”

  Hope scowled. Lokmi sighed. “We don’t even know if we’re poking through to the other dimension.”

  Hope stretched as she scanned their temporary lab in Clan Tranis’ home, relaxing from the intense focus she’d trained on the vid and her instrumentation for the last hour. “We must be. It survived when you phased with it between the dimensions.”

  Lokmi sagged in the extra hover chair pulled up to the clean end of the table, where pieces of Hope’s engineering work on the miniscule nanobots she continued to refine weren’t scattered. “All living tissue we send over dies when we send it through the window, even in a pocket of our atmosphere. We have no idea if the containment is holding across the divide, but I’m guessing it isn’t.”

  “We also have no idea if alternating frequencies will hold a Dark in our space,” she reminded him. “You phased, yeah, but we can’t determine what the Darks are made of or how they cross dimensions. It’s obvious organic matter on our side isn’t adaptable to their universe the way theirs is to ours. Or maybe something else is going on.” She shrugged. It was a big guessing game. They weren’t sure of the questions they should be asking, so finding answers seemed damned near impossible.

  Nonetheless, the clock on capturing Admiral Hobato’s supposed rider was ticking. Piras and Tranis weren’t interested in failure.

  “Working with mechanical creatures is so much easier. Give me components and gears any day,” she griped.

  Lokmi’s head swiveled. He looked at her. He slapped his forehead so hard, Hope feared he’d given himself a concussion. He rocked, as if on the verge of fainting.

  “Lokmi! What—?”

  “What is wrong with us? I can’t believe we, a couple of supposedly competent engineers…Hope, how long can your nanobots function in space before they freeze up or radiation fries them?”

  She caught on to what he was proposing and came close to delivering a hard smack to her own skull. “Of course! I got so caught up in the containment’s construction, it never occurred to me to think beyond a living creature trying to escape it. The nanos can be programmed to do so.” She began tapping furiously on her computer.

  “As small as they are, they’re much larger than the single-celled organisms we’ve sent through.” Lokmi was working his computer too.

  “But I can program them to attempt to exit the containment and return. It would have been hit-or-miss using the live stuff.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “The nanos are constructed for our atmospheric conditions. They’d fail within five minutes of exposure to space.”

  “Long enough for them to get in and out of a containment field, if it’s possible for them to breach it.”

  “And gather vid and samples, if there’s anything on the other side beyond space.” Hope shot him a glance. “What do you say we don’t tell anyone else of this obvious solution to Problem One?”

  Lokmi snorted. “No kidding. All right, how many of the little bugs do you want to send through?”

  “You know how expensive they are. Piras will have a heart attack if we lose even one.” Hope grinned. “Let’s do three, since the fleet is paying.”

  Half an hour later, the three nanospies returned intact, having escaped the containment and returned. They confirmed there was indeed a separate dimension.

  “They were in some celestial body’s atmosphere, though not on the planet or moon itself.” Hope scanned the valuable readings the nanos had taken. “Very hostile conditions to life as we understand it. Look at the pressures it exerts. No wonder everything we sent through died.”

  They focused on the most important results, the ability to maintain containment shielding in the other space.

  “I can work with this,” Lokmi enthused, his expression bright. “I can definitely construct a containment field that’ll hold at least our dimension’s objects, whether animate or not.”

  “On to Problem Two then. Time to actually construct a multidimensional containment.” Hope woofed a breath. “The fun never ends.”

  * * * *

  Tranis paced his clan’s common room, wondering how he hadn’t worn a rut past the unlit firepit in the middle of the room. Imdiko Lokmi and Matara Hope had reported progress was being made on the plan to trap the Dark suspected of riding Hobato. They were struggling to construct a containment spanning two dimensions, but Lokmi was certain it would take no more than three days to iron out a design.

  Anticipated success had given birth to second-guessing himself. “Hobato is my commanding officer. The head of the fleet. The only admiral I’ve consulted about his supposed unwilling capitulation to an alien mind is Piras. I should have talked to others, but no one else seems to notice anything amiss.”

  Lidon stood to the side, watching him. He exuded calm Tranis couldn’t partake in. “You’re within your rights as an admiral and protector of the empire to determine if the rear admiral is in control of his faculties. If it means subverting the usual chain of command to thwart an unknown enemy, it’s also within your rights.”

  “If I’m wrong, if we move against Hobato…I’m working on no more than a hunch! There’s no solid evidence of him being controlled by an entity. Besides his problematic decisions to proceed too carefully—”

  “Decisions leaving the empire open to potential invasion.” Lidon was steady in his belief in Tranis.

  Tranis wished he felt as sure.

  He glanced at Cassidy, who sat next to Degorsk on the massive lounger curving around the firepit. “I could go to prison for this, and our child is on the way.”

  “Our child is the best motive to ensure the safety of Kalquor,” Cassidy countered. “It would break me to see you tried and convicted for any reason, but I’ve met Admiral Hobato. If he’s himself, he won’t have you arrested unless he thinks it’s absolutely warranted. He’s the kind of man who takes the purposes for his officers’ actions into account.”

  “You have damned good cause,” Degorsk weighed in. “Anyone who spends an hour talking to Dramok Ilid about what he encountered would go out on a limb to make sure the Darks don’t get a chance to come here.”

  “How is he?” Tranis asked.

  “Beyond wrecked. He’s in for a long recovery, if his parents and I can keep him alive.” Degorsk shook his head at Tranis’ unspoken question. “I realize you need him to look at Hobato to determine if he’s being ridden…but if he is, being in the presence of a Dark will finish Ilid. He’s discharged from the fleet now, so you can’t order him to do it. As his therapist, I can’t permit him to take the chance.”

  Ilid was the only hope Tranis had of guaranteeing Hobato had been compromised since the testing on fleet members had yet to begin. Lidon and Piras had finished re-routing Hobato’s ability to communicate orders to the rest of the fleet only that afternoon. Lacking young Ilid’s special sight, Tranis possessed only suspicion and gut instinct…which wouldn’t save him from of serious legal trouble.

  “Tranis, you and Piras have agreed on our course of action, as have the members of our clans working for the fleet. This mission must happen. Let’s set aside what might happen for constructive conversation. I have an assignment for Lokmi and Hope once we’ve caught the Dark,” Cassidy said.

  “Oh?” Her bright interest woke his own.

  “I need them to gather biological samples from the entity once it’s trapped. I have to study it.”

  “It’s a hell of a task.” Tranis couldn’t imagine how it would be accomplished. “It would take somehow reversing polarities on the phase device and zapping the Dark with it?”

  “Phasing isn’t a matter of ‘zapping,’” Lidon said.

  “I’m no engineer, just tossing an idea out there. But yes, it’ll be their next assignment, if the current project is successful.” He glanced around. “Speaking of our guests, where are Piras and Kila?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I behaved jealously. My attitude was beneath that of a loyal Nobek and committed clanmate.”

  The admission was difficult for Piras to hear. It was a Kila-style apology, which the clan leader had wanted. It gave him no pleasure, however. He hated to be the source of a blow to Kila’s pride.

  “The fact you were jealous, you didn’t trust me—” Piras stopped. “I realize not telling you Tranis sent Lidon to be my temporary bodyguard doesn’t scream I deserve your trust, but you get so damned mad when his name comes up. I couldn’t have you dwelling on him being near me when you were on a dangerous mission.”

  Kila regarded him as calmly as his natural ferocity allowed. “I do trust you. I just…I want to be the Nobek who’s here to keep you safe. The Nobek you can count on.”

  There was more to it. Hope had divulged to Piras the conversation she and Kila’d had.

  “Lidon hasn’t been that Nobek in well over a decade. Maybe I once wanted him to be, but not since I clanned you. Kila, if I’d known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have considered him as my protector clanmate for an instant. How could I?” Piras poured sincerity in the declaration. He poured his heart in it.

  “You mean it.” Still calm, still fierce, but he heard hungry yearning behind Kila’s statement.

  “With every ounce of my being.” Piras could have heaped sentiment on, but it wasn’t his way. Nor would Kila have found it appropriate. Such a deluge of feelings would have embarrassed his Nobek.

  Piras was forced instead to scowl, to give Kila a taste of the Terror of the Fleet. “Are you done being an ass? I’ve had enough of your shitty attitude, especially when we have such an important mission to accomplish.”

  “A mission I have no real part in,” Kila pointed out. His lips began to twitch, as if he were on the verge of a ‘fuck-you’ Kila smirk.

  “Except to be ready to kick Hobato’s ass if things go south and his rider has him go berserk. Has he noticed he’s cut off from certain command codes since I altered the system a few hours ago? I have no idea. Maybe he’s bypassed it. Maybe he’s ready to send the fleet into complete chaos the instant we move against him. No one seems to have thought such a scenario might happen. Why am I the only person who considers every possible angle?”

  “Because you overthink everything. If you can’t find a problem, you worry it into existence.” The corners of Kila’s mouth turned upward.

  “Fuck you. Eat a mountain of Tragoom dicks.”

  Kila’s grin bloomed in full at the bluster, and Piras’ heart leapt. They were all right again.

  * * * *

  Earth II

  Kuran was in his soon-to-be vacated office at Earth’s on-planet security headquarters when voices alerted him to arriving visitors. One voice rang louder than the rest, and he snickered. Etnil was buzzing from his shopping trip in the company of the Nichols clan. Kuran wondered if his Imdiko had blown the budget he’d set for himself. He had a hundred credits riding on a bet with Rihep.

  The chuckling women, bearing handfuls of canvas shopping bags, entered first on a tide of Etnil’s jabbering. “Yes, pink is absolutely Kuran’s favorite color. Lace and ruffles make him giddy. I think the skirt’s hem will flatter his legs beautifully. Hi, my Nobek!”

  Kuran ignored him to bow to the women. “Mataras, it’s so good to see you obviously enjoyed your day. May I help you put down your bags?” He reached for Rosa’s purchases.

  “Thank you, Kuran.” She beamed at him as he helped her set them neatly on his empty desk in the middle of the almost-empty room.

  From a few feet away, Etnil looked from Stacy to Toni. “I want to lend a hand too, but which of you will my assistance earn more brownie points? Ooh, Kuran, brownies, full of marshmallows. Sort of describes you, doesn’t it? You have to try them.”

  Stacy lowered her purchases to the floor. “It’ll be a while before anyone will see a brownie on Earth again. Etnil might have wiped out the planet’s supply in a single sitting.”

  “Just what the fiend needed…sugar.” Toni sighed tiredly as she let her bags drop. She waved to him grudgingly. “Half the bags he’s carrying are mine, though, so I can’t pick on him too much. Thanks, Etnil.”

  “Brownie points. And brownies. I have everything a man could dream of.” Etnil beamed at them, his gaze coming to rest on Kuran. “I saved a treat for you, little as you deserve it.” He put all but one bag on the floor. He rummaged through its contents.

  “I take it the shopping trip was a success then?” Kuran eyed the bags. There were many, and they appeared full.

  “Amazing. Because Haven is so focused on agriculture, we don’t see many luxury items, especially in the district where we live.” Rosa eyed her purchases in obvious pleasure. “I was afraid the Earthtiques would keep imports to a minimum here, but the stores are full of Joshadan, Plasian, and Adraf products.” She shook a finger at Kuran. “Don’t look so shocked. I bought two years’ worth of gifts for holidays and birthdays.”

  “Brownie?” Etnil sang to the large bag he searched. “Where are you?”

  “I did the same,” Toni said. “Don’t judge us, male creature.”

  Kuran grinned. “Never, ladies. I know better.” He gave Stacy a mock-frightened look. She laughed.

  “Aw, did one of you buy me something and sneak it in my bag? It was you, Toni, wasn’t it? I knew I’d won you over! What did you get me?” Etnil’s arm dove deep for something.