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Authors: Kathleen Morgan
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small sign before it.
The sign read "Biosystem Research." For some reason, Raina didn't like the implications of that particular designation. It smacked of sordid experimentation and secretive plans, all involving the lives and bodies of living things. She knew she shouldn't be so negative about scientific research, but the horrors, the atrocities she'd seen on Incendra, after Malam Vorax had come to power . . .
With a tiny shudder, Raina directed her attention back to the issue at hand—one that was disconcerting enough in its own right. Teran ran a flat card through the key control beside the door. The portal slid open. Inhaling a fortifying breath, Raina followed the big Bellatorian inside.
The room was typical of most laboratories. Large, pristine, and sunlit, it had walls lined with cabinets filled with jars of various solutions and specimens or clearly delineated areas of stasis fields. Long metal tables equipped with various computerized machinery filled its center. A few scientists worked at the tables or bustled to and fro from cabinets or the stasis fields to retrieve some specimen or solution.
Teague drew up beside Raina. "Very interesting, Lord Ardane," he remarked dryly, glancing about him. "But where is the Volan?"
Teran indicated yet another door across the room. "Rand resides in there. He isn't an object of general interest or titillation, as bizarre as his current condition may be. And I expect the same consideration and respect for him as I would for any other living being."
"You truly care for this alien, don't you?" Teague asked.
"He sacrificed much for us, finally even willingly leaving the body of one of our people who he'd been inhabiting. Such a thing is unheard of in a Volan. And Rand dearly loved having a body again." He shot Raina, who glared back at him disbelievingly, an amused glance. "They once possessed bodies of their own, you know, until their increased metabolic rates finally burned them out."
"I've heard the tales," the warrior woman snapped. "It still doesn't justify their enslavement of unwilling victims."
"No, it doesn't," Teran gravely admitted: "But who's to say what we would have done in the same situation? The survival instinct is powerful, perhaps the most powerful driving force of all."
"Sometimes, though," Teague quietly offered, "it compels us into shameful, ignoble acts, when death would've been far more honorable."
Raina jerked her gaze to the monk. Though his expression was hooded and all but inscrutable, she could've sworn she caught a fleeting shadow of pain in his voice. Did he speak from personal experience, perhaps? She shoved the consideration aside. She didn't want to know any more about the man than was absolutely necessary.
"An ethical dilemma, to be sure," Teran agreed. "But, come, the day draws on, and you've still to learn the rudiments of piloting the Volan spy ship. We've a mock-up of the actual one that remains in orbit around Bellator for you to practice on just a few doors down."
"I can't wait," Raina mumbled under her breath.
Teran and Teague must have heard her, for they exchanged an amused glance. She stared back, refusing to allow either man to intimidate or silence her. When they stepped out once more, however, she followed them across the room without comment or protest. No further purpose was served in grumbling, Raina decided. They'd committed to the mission and any and all eventualities it might entail.
The room they entered was dimly lit by a luminescent green sphere suspended from various tubes in one corner. A faint humming from some machine connected to the tubes completed the eerie scene. Uneasiness prickled down Raina's spine. There was definitely the feel of an alien presence in the room yet, at the same time, the presence seemed benevolent, almost eager for their company.
Teran closed the door behind them and walked over to the machine. He adjusted some levers and depressed a few digitalized buttons, then turned back to Teague
The sign read "Biosystem Research." For some reason, Raina didn't like the implications of that particular designation. It smacked of sordid experimentation and secretive plans, all involving the lives and bodies of living things. She knew she shouldn't be so negative about scientific research, but the horrors, the atrocities she'd seen on Incendra, after Malam Vorax had come to power . . .
With a tiny shudder, Raina directed her attention back to the issue at hand—one that was disconcerting enough in its own right. Teran ran a flat card through the key control beside the door. The portal slid open. Inhaling a fortifying breath, Raina followed the big Bellatorian inside.
The room was typical of most laboratories. Large, pristine, and sunlit, it had walls lined with cabinets filled with jars of various solutions and specimens or clearly delineated areas of stasis fields. Long metal tables equipped with various computerized machinery filled its center. A few scientists worked at the tables or bustled to and fro from cabinets or the stasis fields to retrieve some specimen or solution.
Teague drew up beside Raina. "Very interesting, Lord Ardane," he remarked dryly, glancing about him. "But where is the Volan?"
Teran indicated yet another door across the room. "Rand resides in there. He isn't an object of general interest or titillation, as bizarre as his current condition may be. And I expect the same consideration and respect for him as I would for any other living being."
"You truly care for this alien, don't you?" Teague asked.
"He sacrificed much for us, finally even willingly leaving the body of one of our people who he'd been inhabiting. Such a thing is unheard of in a Volan. And Rand dearly loved having a body again." He shot Raina, who glared back at him disbelievingly, an amused glance. "They once possessed bodies of their own, you know, until their increased metabolic rates finally burned them out."
"I've heard the tales," the warrior woman snapped. "It still doesn't justify their enslavement of unwilling victims."
"No, it doesn't," Teran gravely admitted: "But who's to say what we would have done in the same situation? The survival instinct is powerful, perhaps the most powerful driving force of all."
"Sometimes, though," Teague quietly offered, "it compels us into shameful, ignoble acts, when death would've been far more honorable."
Raina jerked her gaze to the monk. Though his expression was hooded and all but inscrutable, she could've sworn she caught a fleeting shadow of pain in his voice. Did he speak from personal experience, perhaps? She shoved the consideration aside. She didn't want to know any more about the man than was absolutely necessary.
"An ethical dilemma, to be sure," Teran agreed. "But, come, the day draws on, and you've still to learn the rudiments of piloting the Volan spy ship. We've a mock-up of the actual one that remains in orbit around Bellator for you to practice on just a few doors down."
"I can't wait," Raina mumbled under her breath.
Teran and Teague must have heard her, for they exchanged an amused glance. She stared back, refusing to allow either man to intimidate or silence her. When they stepped out once more, however, she followed them across the room without comment or protest. No further purpose was served in grumbling, Raina decided. They'd committed to the mission and any and all eventualities it might entail.
The room they entered was dimly lit by a luminescent green sphere suspended from various tubes in one corner. A faint humming from some machine connected to the tubes completed the eerie scene. Uneasiness prickled down Raina's spine. There was definitely the feel of an alien presence in the room yet, at the same time, the presence seemed benevolent, almost eager for their company.
Teran closed the door behind them and walked over to the machine. He adjusted some levers and depressed a few digitalized buttons, then turned back to Teague
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