And then something had gone wrong. (Kaldarren felt the dithparusclamoring in his mind: Yes, yes, yes!)Either the line of kings had died out, or there had been war, or some calamity.
All three. They broke the cycle, one named Nartal, a prince, a coward.
Prince Nartal, who left before the transfer could take place, and so a dithparuhad taken what it could find: the boy, Ishep, now dead at his feet. But Ishep didn’t know how to get out of the tomb. Only Nartal had, and the dithparu’s powers were limited. So they had been trapped here for thousands of years, waiting for someone to find and free them while, above, the planet had died because Nartal did not know how to tend the machines, or even that they required this.
The mask, use the mask.
The mask was an amplifier, channeling the flow of psychic energy into the new host. And that was why they needed Pahl.
Still, to Kaldarren, it made no sense. Yes, they might lure Pahl here and inhabit his body, as Uramtali did now. But that being done, why keep Jase? Jase was no telepath. True, he called out; Kaldarren caught that mind-scream and followed it here, but was that Jase?Or had the dithparus,had Uramtali amplifiedJase’s cry?
Kaldarren felt weak and dizzy. He was aware now that he was trembling from the effort, his mind reeling from the images that pummeled his mind. Why keep Jase? No, no—Kaldarren’s mind labored over the question—that was wrong, he was asking the wrong question. This wasn’t just about keeping Jase; that mind-scream had been Jase calling for him, but Jase shouldn’t have been able to do that, not without help
Help us, please help us.
Such an innocent request: Help us, please.Kaldarren very nearly responded, but something—that instinct for self-preservation again—stopped the thought, cold. Something about what the dithparuhad thought at him niggled at his brain, and Kaldarren thought back now over what the Night Spirit had said.
Willing. Yes, that was it. The container, the new host, had to be willing,had to wantthe dithparuto slip inside and take over.
Kaldarren felt cold beads of perspiration speckling his brow. This wasn’t about keeping Jase, or even Pahl. This wasn’t about Jase at all. It was about finding…
You.
“But why?” Kaldarren cried, out loud now, his voice ripping the air. “Why?”
“Dad?” Frightened, Jase jerked at Kaldarren’s hand. His father’s eyes bulged, unseeing. “Dad, what is it?”
“Why did you need to find me?” Kaldarren’s anguished cry banged off stone. “Why have you hidden yourselves until now?”
No.The word shivered through his mind. You have hidden yourself fromus.
Of course, Kaldarren thought, that was right. They’d sensed Pahl in orbit and tried to reach him through a dream, and then when Pahl had been most vulnerable, flinging his tortured thoughts so widely that Kaldarren had detected them for the first time, they’d sensed him.But the contact had been so brutal— the pain, I remember that searing pain—that his mental shields had snapped into place, and he’d automatically shut them out, a response so reflexive he wasn’t aware he’d done it. After that, he hadn’t been able to find them; with his shields in place, they couldn’t touch him. How ironic: He’d thought at that retreating contact not to be afraid, and yet hewas the one who’d felt fear. Wanting without wanting. Searching for the portal, but with his mind veiled, protected.
It was, he considered, the way he’d lived his life: the same way he’d kept himself hidden from Rachel; the hurt they’d caused one another making him withdraw, close off to so many things. The dithparusmust have sensed him long ago, but Kaldarren was— strong, you are strong—stronger than he imagined, or had wanted to believe, and so his mind had been hidden— afraid of us, of yourself, of her—resistant to their pleas. Not open to us, or to her, dwelling on your hurt.
So they’d done the next best thing. They’d fixed upon Jase and especially upon Pahl, who was young, untrained. Defenseless.
Cold fury blossomed in Kaldarren’s chest. They’d used Pahl, and then they’d used Jase, as bait. They’d tried to take his son, his son!And even if they had Kaldarren, would they stop? Couldthey be stopped? Or could hehold them, in place, inside where they couldn’t get at Jase, or anyone? Because he was strong: stronger than he’d imagined, or dared to believe.
For you, my son,Kaldarren thought. I would do this for you. For us all.
The twin poles of anger—grief and resolve—blazed in his heart. He turned away from Pahl’s face, expressionless beneath its silver mask, and his voice boomed through the chamber.
“Well, I’m here now!” he roared. Kaldarren struck his chest with his clenched fist. “My mind is open now, and I’m here, I’m here, you have what you want, so let them go and take me, take me!”
“Dad!” Jase shouted. “Dad, no!”
Open your mind.
“All right, come on, I’m waiting!” And then, just before he dropped the last of his defenses, he thought at Jase: Son, when it happens, run,run!
Jase gasped. “Dad, no, I won’t, no!”
Jase, youmust! Then, without waiting for his son’s reply, Kaldarren unveiled his mind. “Do it,” he cried, “do it!”
Yes—the dithparusgathered themselves— yes.
“Dad!No, stay with me, please! Dad!” Jase shrieked. “No!”
Suddenly, the air in the chamber was bright and it whirled, rushing with the force of a gathering storm. Pahl stiffened, screamed; then the boy crumpled to the stone floor. The light in the chamber spasmed then contracted and gathered around Kaldarren, looping tighter and tighter and tighter.
“Dad, no!” Jase shouted. His face was wet. “Don’t!”
“Jase!” Kaldarren gnashed at his lips and tasted fresh blood. “Son, run! Run! I don’t know how long…I don’t…!”
He broke off, clutched at his head, his soul spilling between his fingers like water. “Son, please, run, while there’s still time, run,Jase, ru…”
And then Ven Kaldarren’s mind burst in two. He gave a long, agonized scream as his soul was torn out and the others poured in, choking him, crowding into his mind. Dimly, he heard his son crying out for the man Kaldarren no longer was, but there was nothing Kaldarren could do for Jase now because his mind was hurtling toward darkness, toward oblivion. Kaldarren felt his strength leave him, and then the bite of stone through his suit, against his knees. And then he was on his back, his vision darkening.
“Rachel,” Kaldarren choked, his throat raw and bloody. “Rachel.”
Chapter 33
“What?”Garrett looked over at Stern, who was glowering over her tricorder. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything,” said Stern, her voice slightly tinny and attenuated over her environmental suit’s comm unit.