"Lisanne Norman - Sholan Alliance 06 - Stronghold Rising" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman Lisanne)

lay. Like images on an entertainment comm, memories of his time on Haven began to form before his
eyes.


Haven, Zhal-Zhalwae (month of the Sun God), 22nd day, 1551 (May)

With a jolt, sweating and shaking, he was suddenly awake. Strong hands gripped his arms,
holding him firmly down on the bed. Terror surged through him as he imagined himself back in his cell
on the Kz’adul, held once more by the armored Prime guard. The scent of his jailer, J’koshuk, the
Valtegan torturer-priest, was strong in his nostrils. Fear kept his eyes tightly shut as he braced himself
for the next blow from the electronic animal prod.
“Kusac, you’re safe on Haven with us,” said a quiet voice in Sholan. “You had a bad dream.”
He opened his eyes; by the dim light in the IC unit, he could see a vaguely familiar tan-pelted
face looking down at him. The bed to one side of him moved. Confused, he slowly turned his head,
aware of a stabbing pain in his neck as he did. All he could see was an indistinct figure leaning over
the night table until the room began to brighten: he recognized her long blonde hair instantly. Memory
returned in a rash then. He was no longer the Primes” prisoner, he was on the Brotherhood outpost
of Haven, located far from Shola, on the borders of Chemerian space.
Carrie leaned over him, gently caressing his cheek. “You can let him go now, Kaid.”
The pressure on his arms was lifted as Kaid, still watching him carefully, sat back. He opened
his mouth to speak, but only a faint croak came out.
“I’ll fetch you some water,” said Carrie, getting up.
Reaching for Kaid’s arm, he grasped it, using his friend’s strength to help him sit up. The
sudden movement made him aware of a dull, throbbing headache. When Carrie passed him the
glass, he drained it while she piled pillows behind him.
“How long have you been here?” he asked Kaid as Carrie urged him to lean back.
“I came up after the talks broke for the night.” Kaid nodded toward the chair not far from the
bed. “I slept there. We’re a Triad, Kusac. Where else would I be but here with you and Carrie?”
Even as feelings blocked off for too long by the Primes” implant began to well up inside him, he
felt the warning tingling at the base of his skull. Instinctively, he retreated behind the mental barriers
that had given him some little protection from the tortures J’koshuk had inflicted on him. Then Carrie
was hugging him, her warmth and scent driving the last remnants of the nightmare away. With one
arm, he clumsily returned the embrace, his other hand reaching for Kaid, needing to touch them both.
“I’ve never been alone,” he whispered. “I’ve always sensed others around me. Now there’s
nothing. I’m mind-dead.” It was a statement of fact, like he might say his pelt was black. He felt
numb, as empty of emotions as he had on the Prime ship.
“Your psi Talent will come back,” Kaid reassured him. “Until it does, we’ll never be far from
you. Getting you back to full health is our priority.”
“You’re not mind-dead,” said Carrie forcefully. “You just need time for your mind to heal now
that the implant’s been deactivated and removed.”
He remembered the implant and felt just under his jaw for the dressing that circled his neck.
Like his head, it had begun to throb. He ignored it; compared to the unremitting pain J’koshuk had
inflicted on him, it was nothing. “How much damage did it do?” he asked, trying to remember what
Kaid had said the night before.
“Damage isn’t the right word,” said Kaid. “It was—invasive. With Valtegans who volunteer to
become soldiers, its normal purpose is to take over the brain’s hormone production and release. It
does this by growing tendrils that create their own neural connections in the brain. They’re not
functioning now the control unit’s been removed.”
 “He’s just awakened, Tallinu, it’s too soon to go into all these details,” Carrie said.
“I need to know,” he said, glancing at her. “What are these tendrils? Could they become active