Rystani Warrior: The Dare Part 39

"The Sentinel has requested that you come alone," Kirek told him through the com link.

"Why?"

"I'm... not certain."

Zical could be walking into a trap. Perhaps the sentinel was only pretending that its armaments were disabled. Once he entered, the machine could trap him, zap him, kill him. Now that they'd arrived, their next task was to reprogram the giant machine, starting with making it comprehend that they were not the enemy.

"Ranth, cut the com link to Kirek for a moment."

"Compliance."

"Is this a trap?" he asked the computer, hoping the Sentinel's sensors couldn't reach into their s.h.i.+p and monitor their conversation.

"I don't have enough data to give an informed opinion."

239.

"Ranth, open communications. Kirek, I'm on the way." Zical figured that he led his people here. If the Sentinel took his life, then the engineers and scientists would know to be wary. It was no longer imperative he stay alive for the sake of this mission. If necessary, the others could carry on without him.

So he climbed through the hatch into Guranu, amazed at the orderly chaos in the smooth-floored corridor that appeared to continue in both directions as far as he could see. Weightless bots of all sizes and shapes zipped by carrying equipment, but Zical had to scrunch down to fit his tall frame into the almost too-bright pa.s.sageway. Squinting against the brilliant white lights, he adjusted his suit to allow less illumination to filter through, changed his nulligrav to a comfortable strolling level.

Which way and how far? he asked Ranth.

But the alien that was the Sentinel responded, obviously linking communications through Guranu. Follow the blinking green light.

The psi link revealed as ancient essence-wise, implacable, judgmental. But Zical also sensed an infinite patience and an indomitable will. He supposed an ent.i.ty whose life spanned the eons would have many self-protective mechanisms. Had Kirek really fooled the ancient machine's sensors, or was that what the Sentinel wanted them to believe?

Zical wished Dora were with him, and not just for her instinctive comprehension of machinery and computers, he would have taken comfort in holding her hand. He shut the though down. He must keep his wits about him, and dwelling on the woman he'd lost and how much be missed her company would only put his mission in jeopardy.

Zical followed the blinking green light to an intersection of two corridors.

Apparently, he was to turn right and was pleased when the corridor both widened and increased in height, allowing him to stand upright.

More suited to your size? the Sentinel asked.

Yes.

This route is longer.

How much longer? Zical had the notion the Sentinel might send him in circles for centuries if he didn't question the directions. Perhaps he was paranoid. However, he didn't like being inside a machine. He didn't like machines that were Left in charge of a galaxy. Odd, he'd depended on Dora when she was a computer-yet her taking human form and linking with Ranth had bothered him When, she'd stared gla.s.sy-eyed into s.p.a.ce, ignoring everyone around her, she'd seemed to lose her personality and humanity-but that hadn't been the case. Dora had been just as human and his perception had been wrong. Yet his relations.h.i.+p with Ranth was comfortable. But even a surface psi conversation with the Sentinel made Zical feel as if he needed to look over his shoulder. As an attack could come at any moment, from any direction.

Up ahead, Kirek waved, his small frame wriggling atop a bot. The s.p.a.ce station and the Sentinel seemed to merge into other with seamless, precision, each section of the long corridor looking much like all the others.

240.

Increasing his pace, Zical hurried forward. Kirek's expression looked relieved, the earlier tension when he'd set out for the Sentinel was now replaced by exuberance.

Instead of using psi to communicate, Zical spoke to the boy, turning off the translator in hopes the Sentinel couldn't comprehend. "Are you certain all weapons are non- functional?"

"I am certain of nothing." Kirek hopped off the bot and pointed to a place where huge cables entered a compartment. "However, this is the mainframe and I've just isolated this Sentinel from all the others. It can no longer communicate with Guranu either."

"Good work."

The Sentinel interrupted their conversation, revealing it said, comprehend spoken language. You have disabled my weapons and communications, leaving me no choice but to self-destruct with you inside.

No. Zical realized the Sentinel had tricked them. All along he'd suspected a trap, but he'd seen no option but to do as the Sentinel had asked. And since the machine still believed they were the enemy, he had to find a way around its logic circuits. If he could persuade the Sentinel to give them time, perhaps Ranth could find a way inside. We must talk first.

You are the enemy. I destroy the enemy.

We are allies, Zical countered. Meanwhile, he urged Ranth to seek away into the machine. It is true that the Jarn aboard my s.h.i.+p was programmed by the Zin. But the Jarn obey the Zin masters against their will The machine paused as if to digest his words or perhaps to contend with another distraction. Finally it sent an implacable thought. The Jarn seek to destroy all Sentinels.

"Captain," Ranth said through the com. "Before we annihilated the fleet, the Jarn found a way into the Sentinels' programming. Dr. Laduna spoke the truth. The machines are slowly turning themselves off."

"Reverse the process," Zical ordered.

Ranth's tone was solemn. "I'm sorry, sir. I cannot do so without the Sentinels' help, but they are freezing me out. Very shortly, the only Sentinel that will remain awake is the one you are inside."

Zical shot his psi into the Sentinel. We came to help.

You are the enemy.

You are in error, Zical feared that with all the other Sentinels turned off and this one about to self-destruct, they had failed. The machine wouldn't believe his words. If only it could see inside him. An idea flashed into his mind. Twice before the Perceptive Ones' machines had scanned him as he stood in a golden cone of light. Hoping the Sentinel had the same capability, he straightened and demanded, Test me.

A deep scan will kill you.

241.

If you self-destruct, you will kill me and the boy and everything your creators worked to protect.

Scan me, Zical ordered.

A golden cone of light shot down from overhead, trapping Zical like hard, sucking tentacles. Much like the light in Mount Shachauri, the light probed his mind, the alien presence s.h.i.+fting through the layers of his brain. burrowing deep to test his true essence, motives, and spirit.

Despite his horror at the invasion, Zical didn't fight the intrusion. He allowed the Sentinel to sift his memories and intentions, all of them, the good and the bad, permitting the machine to see they really were on the same side. As his vision narrowed and he blacked out, even as he prepared to die, Zical hoped the Sentinel had dug deep enough into his core to find and recognize the truth.

Zical awakened with every nerve in his body tingling, his hormones raging for s.e.xual release. His first instinct was to search for Dora, but with the memory of her sacrifice and Kirek's worriedly bending over him, he tamped down the cone's side effect, which this time wasn't so much a sudden charge of s.e.xual need as much as a yearning to hold and love Dora.

Kirek's hand rested on Zical's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Zical spoke the truth, so I allowed him to live," the Sentinel intoned. "You are genuine descendants of the Perceptive Ones."

Zical shoved up on an elbow. "Will you allow our computer to reprogram-"

"Reprogramming is no longer necessary."

"I don't understand." Still groggy, Zical stood, hoping his head would clear, trying with all his might not to recall the last time he'd been probed by the light, when Dora had in his arms.

"My system has already reprogrammed itself to fit the new data we retrieved from your scan. However, this one Sentinel cannot protect the galaxy from the Zin, so I am awakening the others. Soon we will ail be back at our posts."

Kirek whooped and pumped his small fists into the air. "Captain, with your permission, I'm sending a message home to my parents."

Zical nodded and Kirek raced through the docking portal back to the s.h.i.+p, likely forgetting his parents would be very old, if indeed they even still lived, by the time his message arrived. Sounds of celebration from the bridge echoed back to Zical as Ranth relayed the news that the Sentinels would return to guard them all. Zical's heart ached with emptiness at the thought that Dora would not be there to celebrate their success.

She, more than anyone, deserved to know they'd succeeded-but she never would.

Although the rest of the galaxy, perhaps even the Jarn, would eventually be joyously celebrating, Dora would never know that giving her life had saved them all.

242.

Vax spoke over the com link. "Captain, the Sentinels are waking and leaving Guranu. They appear on course for the Andromeda Galaxy."

"Understood."

"Captain," Cyn broke in, her voice excited, "The Sentinels speeds are incredible. If we could find a way to tap into their power source-"

"I'll ask," Zical promised.

Relief that the galaxy would be set right staggered Zical, and if not for a psi thought to stiffen his suit, he might have fallen. He'd never expected the journey to end so successfully. And yet, how could he celebrate without the woman he loved at his side?

He should be filled with elation, jumping up and down with jubilation, but success without Dora was bittersweet.

Can you help outfit our s.h.i.+p with your hyperdrive? Zical asked, more because his crew deserved to continue their lives than for any desire to return to Mystique, where every breath would remind him of Dora. He could not think only of his own selfish need to grieve and mourn, his crew deserved to live. With the Sentinel's knowledge and advanced technology, perhaps be could reward his crew for a job well done by returning to Mystique as quickly as they'd come and afford them the chance to continue with their lives.

Guranu exists for reprogramming. Since our parts do not wear out, Sentinels do not carry spares.

Zical would not give up easily. Perhaps our computer and chief engineer could copy your schematics- You do not have the resources the Sentinel intoned. However, my force field can wrap around the Verazen, and my drives could take you home. But my programming makes it impossible for me to aid the enemy. You must leave the Jarn survivors behind.

Why not turn the Jarn into an ally instead? Zical suggested, hating to leave the battles survivors, who'd escaped in pods, to a lonely death.

I do not follow your meaning.

The Sentinel possessed superior technology. Perhaps the Perceptive Ones could counter the damage the Zin had done so long ago and Dr. Laduna's sacrifice could lead to the Jarn's salvation. The Jarn are slaves to the Zin due to their genetic coding. Change the coding and the Zin will lose their ally inside the Federation.

A suggestion with merit. Would you rather I send a pulse to free the Jarn of the Zin curse or would you prefer that I repair the woman you mourn?

Zical's head snapped up. You can heal Dora?

I can restore her or the Jarn. Which do you prefer?

The Sentinel had just given him an impossible choice. Saving the woman he loved or an entire world. Even as Zical marveled at the wondrous technology, hope lightened his heart. Dora could live. Their child could be born on Mystique. All he had to do was choose to save her. Dora meant more to him than a billion strangers.

243.

Yet, out of decency, Zical had to ask the question, Why can you not do both?

The Perceptive Ones' programming has limits. Saving both the Jarn and Dora exceed my parameters.

And the programming cannot be altered? Zical asked, his question rhetorical as sweat poured out of him, his suit barely able to keep up. The dream to have Dora back at his side was powerful, tempting...what he wanted more than anything. His ragged breath came in great gulps. If he could give his life to save Dora and their child, he would gladly do so. But that was not one of his options.

His gut churned with the agony of indecision. He'd rather fight a hundred battles than make such a horrendous choice. How could he measure the life of the woman he loved and their unborn child against billions of nameless, faceless Jarn? His heart constricted as a band of anguish tightened like a noose, flaying him until he might have had a gaping wound where his heart had once been.

He wanted Dora back so badly he could almost smell her sweet scent, taste her lush lips. To share their lives would be his fondest wish, his greatest joy-yet how could they experience happiness when choosing her over the Jarn would cost so many their freedom?

Make your decision.

He knew Dora would tell him to free the Jarn. She would tell him he couldn't save two lives at the expense of so many. Such a choice wouldn't be rational. But Zical would not miss the Jarn. He knew only one. Dr. Laduna, and his memories of him were mixed.

Zical wouldn't wake up at night missing the Jarn. You've given, me an impossible choice.

Choose.

Zical's throat closed on tears of despair. He shouldn't even be considering saving Dora. He shouldn't love her so much that he could deliberately cause billions to live as slaves for untold eons. But in the end, even as his gut wrenched and he raged in helpless fury, he couldn't leave such a world of Jarn slaves who were ready to bring down the Sentinels, an enemy living among the Federation.

Free the Jarn, he ordered, his words no more than an anguished whisper. Turning his back on the Sentinel, knowing that the decision had wounded his soul, a wound that would fester and never heal, he blundered back to the Verazen, his motor functions on automatic, his footsteps heavy, his hopes wrecked beyond repair, his dreams demolished.

"The Sentinel beamed a pulse through hypers.p.a.ce," Vax informed him as he stepped aboard the bridge. "Ranth's a.n.a.lysis has concluded that the Jarn should now be free of the Zin."

Zical swallowed the lump in his throat, nodded, and headed straight to Dora's cabin. He wanted to hold her again, apologize for his decision that would lead to her death. As it sensing his sorrow, none of the crew stopped him along the way.

244.

Ranth, Vax, and Cyn kept up a running patter, keeping him informed about the Sentinel's force field that would encompa.s.s the Verazen as well as the Jarn survivors and take them home. Kirek must have been on the bridge because Dora was alone.

She appeared to be sleeping peacefully. With her eyes closed, her breathing steady he could almost fool himself into believing that nothing had happened to her. Her clear complexion, the delicate line of her jaw, the graceful lines of her neck and her beautiful body, seemed to mock the vacancy of her damaged brain.

Gently, he gathered her into his arms, holding her close. When her eyes fluttered open, intelligence sparked from her brilliant irises. Stunned, he watched her soft lips part, and she cleared her throat. "Hi."

Was he hallucinating? Had be finally lost his mind? Was the universe playing tricks on him?

Staring, hopeful, astounded, be could, barely talk. Dregan h.e.l.l. Dora?"

"In the flesh." She wriggled against him, brus.h.i.+ng her ample chest against his.

Pure joy blazed through him and be yanked her tightly against him, fearing he might lose her again at any second. "I Thought... you were... gone. I thought I'd lost you... forever."

She grinned and wound her arms around his neck." I'm not that easy for you to get rid of?

"Rid of?" He gaped at her, wondering how she'd healed. Ranth had told him her mind was gone. Had he wanted her to be back so badly that be was imagining she was whole? Seemingly her normal self? If he was talking to an apparition, he didn't care. He smoothed back her hair, cupped her chin and locked gazes, all his emotions and everything he wanted to tell her jumbling inside him. His voice choked. "I missed you so much."

He didn't want to question how she'd survived. He didn't want to think how lucky he was to have this second chance to show her how much he loved her. He simply held her tightly, rocking her, holding her, breathing her scent.

The Sentinel spoke. "When you made the unselfish decision to free the Jarn, you proved your people worthy. Genuine descendants of the Perceptive Ones deserve to propagate."

Zical blinked back tears of happiness. The Sentinel had healed Dora. The terrible decision he'd made had been some kind of alien test. But he'd thought the scan had told the Sentinel everything about his character. "Didn't the scan tell you how I would decide?"

"Scans cannot read the heart."

"Thank you." Stunned for a moment into silence, he absorbed the enormity of the consequences of the choice he'd made. He'd never realized how much power he'd wielded in that decisive moment, how easily he could have chosen wrong.