At Night's End Read online

  At Night’s End

  A Novel of the Beryllian Alliance

  By

  KATHERINE MATZEN

  Dedication:

  To Fred, my wonderful husband. Thank you for your belief and support. Even when I didn’t think I could finish.

  Chapter One

  Lateef D’Oro had to admit his Hatti hosts were impressive. Not only was the food incredible, but the engineering feat required to make the feast hall feel like a platform open to the vastness of space boggled his mind. He knew they were not near the skin of the huge city-ship, not after that long trip down the drop tube. That was fun. Glad they have a regular elevator for squeamish guests. Several seconds of free fall revved up the adrenaline, but it was better than any planet-side festival ride. The Kanesh clan-ship, the Alalakh, was in orbit around a colorful gas giant, and the planet seemed to travel across the walls and ceiling, almost close enough to reach out and touch.

  Wish I was back at work. Can’t believe Trevan invited me to this ceremony and then got so drunk he doesn’t remember I’m here.

  The willowy woman to his right leaned closer to speak to him. “Is this your first Hatti feast, Healer D’Oro?”

  Lateef threw off his irritation and smiled at the Mingorian Empire’s representative. He liked this old friend of his mother, even if she did tend to treat him like an adolescent instead of the Master Healer he was.

  “This is my first, Lady Casella. I have no idea what most of the dishes were, but everything was excellent.”

  Trevan had invited him to the ceremony to elevate a new Thane for the Kanesh Clan. Opening diplomatic ties with the long-lost race had propelled Trevan from junior diplomat to Ambassador to the Hatti and Lateef was glad to have an opportunity to congratulate his friend. While Trevan was young for the job, potential new allies were rare, and the Beryllian Alliance tried to keep the first contact people in place. On the diplomat side, anyway. The Field Agents, like Lateef’s older sister, Rissa, never stayed in one place much longer than necessary to wage a proxy battle against the implacable Falgarans. Then the diplomats moved in.

  Lateef took a sip of an oaky, white wine as he tried to tune out the noisy babble of voices from the hundreds of tables. At least seven civilizations in addition to the Hatti were represented at the guest table.

  “I find it better not to ask too many questions at these state dinners. Especially when our hosts are so passionate about their cooking. How is your mother?”

  “She’s well. I’ll extend your greetings when I return to Beryl.”

  Lady Casella snorted. “Unless you stop at your Healer Hall first. I know you better than that, Healer Lateef. Once you see a patient, all other thoughts flee until you have restored him to health.”

  Heat crawled up his neck, but he couldn’t argue. Healing was such a passion his mother feared he would never find love or give her grandchildren. Not that he didn’t have several siblings more than capable of that task.

  “I did not mean to embarrass you, Lateef. I find your talent admirable. I truly hope there are no new Falgaran attacks to fill up the Healer Halls.” She took a sip of her wine, staring at the giant, holographic planet on the ceiling.

  Lateef changed the subject. “Have you been to other Hatti events?”

  “Nothing as elaborate as this.” A pale hand gestured at the large room. “It has been many years since our last contact with any of the Hatti clans. They had become little more than legend until the Kanesh returned to our area of space.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The clans are wanderers, always on the hunt for the most perfect ingredient to add to the next meal.”

  “What do you know about them?” Lateef chose his words carefully, torn between the desire to learn more and hiding his ignorance. Trevan should have given him more information before the dinner, but he had been late, and Trevan busy, so they didn’t have any time to talk before the ceremony started.

  Casella laughed, resting one slender hand on his arm. “Not much, my dear youngling. Legend claims several clans came from this region of space before their abrupt diaspora hundreds of years ago. The Alalakh is the first ship to return.” She looked around and leaned closer. “Rumor is the old Thane was approached by a mutual enemy, but I have no proof. Be careful, Healer. The sands are not always as firm underfoot as one desires, and I would not wish for you to come to grief.”

  Lateef kept his polite expression frozen on his face even as his stomach clenched. The bloody Falgarans had never been reported in this sector before. Had their ancient enemies contacted the Hatti before the Alliance could? Was the Thane’s accident really a murder?

  He took another sip of wine and tried to still his frantic thoughts. His sister would be pissed beyond belief to think their implacable enemy was this close to Terra. She wouldn’t let her favorite planet fall to their voracious foe without a fight. “Does Trevan know?”

  Casella’s smile turned frosty. “I am certain his sources are as informed as mine.” She straightened and held out her glass for a young Hatti server. Her smile didn’t hide the lines of tension around her eyes. No one in the Alliance could be complacent about the Falgarans gaining new allies.

  She leaned closer and dropped her voice. “Walk with great care until you are safely home, Healer.”

  Her abrupt turn back to her companion, left Lateef confused and unsettled.

  Thought I was paranoid. If so, I’m not alone.

  Trevan slammed down another glass of a delicate wine and elbowed Lateef in the ribs. “I told you the food was good, didn’t I?”

  “Yes. You were right.” Lateef hid his disgust at the unseemly behavior of the Alliance’s newest ambassador.

  “These people are weird, my friend.” Trevan leaned in closer to Lateef after looking around to see if anyone in the crowded room paid attention to them. “Every Hatti clan chooses a set of Matriarchs based on their cooking abilities. Marriages are based on the same thing.” He shook his head and took another gulp of wine. “Poor Thane is supposedly in charge but seems to me the Matriarchs run things. Thane doesn’t even get a girlfriend. Bunch of freaks.”

  Lateef blinked against the blast of rancid alcohol breath in his face. “So, the guy they made Thane in the ceremony tonight is the leader, but he’s not really in charge?” The ceremony had been poignantly simple, rushed because of the previous Thane’s unexpected death.

  “Yep.” Trevan burped and slapped a hand over his mouth before giving an embarrassed chuckle. “Rumor said he wasn’t quite ready to be the leader yet, but the Clan must have a Thane, and clan means everything. A Hatti without a clan is dead.”

  “Do you think the Falgarans were involved?”

  Trevan snorted. “You have Falgarans on the brain, my friend.” He drained his glass then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Look, Lateef, the Falgarans don’t have any reason to deal with these folks. Hatti are cooks, not fighters. The Falgarans are not responsible for every wrong in the universe.”

  Lateef hesitated at the furtive look that flashed across his friend’s face, surprised at his outburst. “What about the psionic blocking shield the Hatti have? Wouldn’t the Falgarans love to get that? They could nullify our best weapons and there’s nothing we could do.”

  Trevan waved a hand. “You worry too much, my friend. The Falgarans don’t care about us.”

  Lateef leaned back in his chair, sipping his own wine to gain some time to think as his companion turned his attention back to his plate. Could Trevan truly believe the Falgarans, a race hell-bent on exterminating his people, didn’t care about the Beryllians?

  He tried to open his senses t
o get a read on the emotions in the large banquet hall. Instead of the expected rush of random thoughts and feelings, his brain filled with static. He raised a hand to rub his temple to ease a nasty headache.

  “Don’t worry. You get used to the shield. Although it is turned up higher than normal right now.” Trevan grinned at him, but the mirth rang hollow. “I’ve been on the Alalakh for weeks and find I don’t miss anything. You get used to doing without the telepathy and teleportation.” Trevan raised a hand for a waiter to refill his wine glass. “These people sure know how to throw a party.”

  Lateef pushed away his concerns and took a bite of savory pastry left on his plate. There was no point in worrying too much about catastrophes that might not happen. The chances the Hatti and Falgarans were in league and had set up so many members of the Beryllian Alliance were next to zero. He should relax and enjoy the feast.

  A Hatti woman approached and bent to whisper in Trevan’s ear.

  He nodded and rose. “Sorry, Lateef, but I need to go do some ambassador stuff. I’ll be back before you leave.” He gestured at the alien woman. “Bilal will take care of you until then.”

  He was gone before Lateef could swallow his last bite of pastry, Bilal fast on his heels.

  Weird. He checked his watch. Three hours gone. This feast can’t last much longer. Once I get home, they’ll have to use a pry bar to get me out of Healer Hall again, no matter how often my boss tells me I need to get out.

  Music swirled through the room and Lateef groaned as another procession of food-heaped trays started around the tables. My stomach’ll pop if this isn’t the last course.

  “Your ambassador wishes for you to come with me.”

  Lateef looked back to see Bilal standing over him.

  Her foot tapped an impatient beat and her dark eyes gleamed. “You are to come quickly.”

  She whirled and strode away.

  He hesitated, remembering the protocol officer’s strict instructions to remain in the area unless escorted. The woman was odd. Maybe it was something about her eyes? They lacked the soul of the other Hatti he had met. Could he risk ignoring her request? No, that’s not the best decision.

  With a resigned sigh Lateef eased out of his chair and followed his guide from the banquet hall into the depths of the ship, ignoring the little voice telling him he was making a mistake. After traversing many deserted, identical corridors, Lateef broke the silence. “Tell me why you pulled me away from the state dinner?” His voice cracked with tension, and he cleared his throat.

  Bilal spared him a glare, then moved faster.

  Lateef glanced down the hallway, wondering if he could find his way back to the banquet hall through the maze of twists and turns his guide had taken. He hated first contact situations. Though this isn’t technically first contact. Trevan knows the Hatti, even if he forgot to share much knowledge with me. All his friend had told him before the banquet started was the clans were obsessed with food, and zealously guarded their food preparation secrets.

  Wish they would turn off the psi-blocking field. Lateef tried to shake off his worry as his guide slowed. The skin on his neck crawled as sweat trickled down his back.

  The Hatti woman stopped abruptly and pointed to an unmarked door. “Your Ambassador is in this room. He demands that you make haste to join him.”

  Lateef stared at the door, his nerves twitching with tension. He tried again to reach out with his senses to get a feel for what was on the other side. His mind filled with static.

  What do you expect to find? A bunch of Falgaran warriors? There’s no reason to be so paranoid. Trevan told you he didn’t think the Falgarans were in contact with the Hatti.

  Lateef turned to question his guide, only to find he was alone. Maybe Trevan arranged a private meet-up with the Clan’s Ambassador? Although the timing for such a meeting was odd.

  He ignored the anxiety making his shoulders itch and placed a hand on the door handle, assuming any place off limits to guests would be locked during a public event.

  With a deep breath, he pushed the door open, subconsciously recognizing the clatter of pans and sizzle of cooking food. Momentum carried him a step into the spotless kitchen before the loud crash of a dropped tray, followed by a horrified gasp froze him in the sudden silence. His mouth fell open as adrenaline flooded his system. He didn’t need to sense emotions to know he had committed the worst faux pas possible. His crime was stamped onto the horrified faces of the Hatti kitchen crew.

  “I humbly beg your pardon.” Lateef quickly averted his eyes and backed out of the kitchen. A knife flashed by him and he slammed the door on furious epithets shouted at him. An alarm blared as he ran. Can’t believe they are so touchy about their food prep.

  He briefly considered returning to the kitchen to explain his mistake, but the memory of the thrown knife and the murderous look on the face of the Matriarch Amman destroyed any hope for forgiveness. Where was Trevan? Someone had set him up. Who would have sent him to a forbidden place?

  Lateef ran down the featureless halls, desperate to find the hanger bay. A shout caused him to rethink his strategy. He turned a corner and saw the unmistakable cluster of life pod hatches. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks as he slapped the entry button. He only had to get away from the ship to be clear of the psionic blanketing field. Then he could teleport home.

  Just as he ducked through the hatch, he thought he heard Trevan call. He turned to look and a bolt ripped through his side. Shock kept him numb as he staggered, knocking the door closed. He sealed the hatch and stumbled to the central chair in the compact lifepod, taking three tries to hit the actual button instead of one of the blurry duplicates his eyes insisted were real. The sudden thrust of acceleration reassured him, even as fresh pain bloomed in his side. He pushed one hand against his bloody wound and buckled the safety straps with the other, sagging in relief as the autodoc administered a pain-reliever. He remembered the danger of being tracked and instructed the autopilot to disable the homing beacon and evade pursuit. There weren’t many places to hide in this solar system, but it would give him a small head start.

  His eyes closed to counter the spinning of the universe around him. Liquid fire pulsed in waves from the wound as his thoughts grew more fragmented. There was something about his assailant he needed to remember, but the image swirled away every time he reached for it. He gave up the attempt to remember and concentrated on healing the hole in his side. Sweat drenched his body and he groaned. Spots floated across his closed eyelids, dancing to the labored thud of his heart as he lost the struggle to remain conscious.

  The scent of gardenias pulled him from sleep. He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His side no longer felt like molten lead flowed through his veins, but the skin remained tender. Should have healed by now. I’ve never had a wound that lasted more than a few minutes once I worked on it. He glanced around the small space, vaguely surprised to find he was alone. Who was that woman with the sad, brown eyes? He’d never seen her before and yet he felt connected to her. Has to be some side-effect of the drugs. The life pods were designed to handle any carbon-based, oxygen breathing life forms, but sometimes the drugs could cause odd reactions. Although he couldn’t recall ever hearing about such realistic hallucinations. He would have sworn he’d talked with the woman for hours and yet he was alone.

  With a glance at the control screen to confirm all was well, Lateef reached out with his mind in an attempt to contact anyone, and gasped at the painful nothingness. He was a strong psychic. His primary talent was healing, but he should have been able to connect with someone now he was out of range of the Hatti shields. There was nothing but static and the throbbing of his erratic pulse.

  Guess my healing ability is as hosed as my telepathy. He glanced at the screens, reassuring himself no Hatti or Falgaran ship waited to pounce. “I’ll remember this next time my boss, Mellora nags me to leave work more ofte
n. The Healer Hall after a Falgaran attack is a whole lot safer than some diplomatic event.”

  His throat ached with the effort of speaking, but the sound of his own voice gave him comfort.

  The autodoc in the chair hummed and injected a fresh dose of pain-killer into his thigh. Concern about Trevan blended into anger at his own helplessness as the drug took effect, shoving him into a deep sleep.

  Guilt. The overwhelming emotion flooded through Lateef until he realized it belonged to the brown-eyed woman.

  “This is my fault.” Self-revulsion poured off her in a nearly-visible wave. “I was supposed to die, not my baby.”

  He jerked awake with a curse.

  “Just a stupid dream. They’ll stop once the drugs wear off.” Lateef shook off the residual emotions, feeling better than he had in hours. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to find the woman. Raw pain was obvious in her, but underneath that he saw a spirit that attracted him like a moth to fire. He sank into a light trance and tried a scan of his own body. The exercise was painfully awkward. His attention wavered all over the place. A psychic numbness spread from the wound. What was on that bolt? Could it have been poisoned?

  Need to call home. Lateef sent his attention outward, again trying to reach his normal contact on Beryl. An alarm bleated. He snapped out the unsuccessful trance, covered in sweat.

  Lateef studied the flashing light as he scratched the skin near the hole in his side.

  “Finally made it to a habitable planet.” He hoped his meager piloting skills extended to a safe landing since he still couldn’t manage to teleport.

  Something about the blue globe in the view screen tickled his memory. Recognition hit him. This was the planet the Hatti were returning to. Terra was also the world where his sister, Rissa, spent so much of her free time. He hadn’t realized he was in Terra’s solar system already. The current inhabitants were pre-space, and had some latent psychic abilities, but were so far away from the rest of civilization the Falgarans left them alone. Maybe Rissa’s here. He ruthlessly squashed the surge of hope that flashed through his body, as he sent mental threads in search of his sister. The unexpected jabs of pain radiating from his wound wrecked his concentration, and his abilities seemed to fade in and out erratically.