"Now that we have discussed a number of explanations and scraps of news," Zurzal cut in, "may we return to the main point of this meeting? I have suffered a crude and unnecessary interruption to plans I have been making for years. It is my intention that I carry those out and I do not think that anyone, Captain, is going to produce a good reason why I cannot."
"You will wait until there is a settlement here!" returned the Patrol officer flatly.
Zurzal spoke then, not to him, but to the port commander. "Commander, you have shown that you have ample reason to believe that my coming here had in reality nothing to do with the present embroilment. You also know that my appearance on Tssek was entirely against my will. By Stellar Law can we be held in this fashion?"
The commander looked neither to the Patrol captain nor to the Zacathan, instead he was studying with great interest the nails on his right hand.
"He's right, you know," he observed. "We have proof of the kidnapping, of the fact that he was being used against his will. He has claimed refuge under the Code of Harktapha—that has held since the first spacers met with his kind. We have no quarrel with Zacathans—their knowledge is ever at our service—their persons are diplomatically sacred—"
"This one presumes too much!" the Patrol officer interrupted.
"In your opinion—" The three words brought a sour silence from the captain. His hands clenched on the edge of the desk as if he would upend that innocent piece of furniture and send it in the general direction of those three across from him.
"So, Learned One," as if he need expect no more interruption the commander turned again to Zurzal, "what is your will?"
"I would return to Wayright and carry out those plans of mine," returned the Zacathan. "My guard goes with me and this gentlefem also, if it is her will."
"It is," Taynad agreed. She added nothing to that and Jofre wondered what thoughts clustered now in her head. Since he who had oathed her was dead by what the issha-sworn would consider chance, she was free from employment. Would she, once more on Wayright, seek to return to Asborgan?
"Also," she was speaking again, "there is the matter of the Jat."
"That can be easily attended to." The Patrol officer must have been glad he had a clear and definite answer to that. "It will be returned to its home planet."
"In the condition in which it now exists?" she queried.
The officer looked to the port commander for an answer.
"Unfortunately, the creature has gone catatonic and cannot be roused," he reported. "The bond between it and the Holder was so harshly broken as to send it into a coma. The medic reports that nothing he has been able to do will restore it."
"It might be well to let me try." To Jofre's surprise the Jewelbright spoke. "A broken bond might indeed break a mind, but a transferred bond—"
"Can this be done?" the commander questioned.
She hesitated for only a second. "My kind have certain powers, Gentlehomos. I have developed a liking for the creature and I saw more of it when it was with its bond master than any of you. Let me try to transfer the bond."
"But it still must be returned—"
"Let that be decided after we see how this will work," said the commander. "Yes, Gentlefem, I shall give orders that you are to try this—and may you be successful."
To Jofre's complete astonishment she turned her head and surveyed him. "This is one of my world," she indicated him. "The training he has been given grants him a certain rapport with other species. I will need him to give me aid."
Jofre had no chance to talk to her alone. She had admitted obliquely that she knew him for what he was. But that that would constitute any tie between them was chancy. The commander escorted them over to the medic quarters and there they looked down upon the small body which had balled itself almost into a knot on one of the bunks.
"It still lives," the medic reported, "but it has had no food nor drink, and the heartbeat is very slow. It is close to death."
"Yan searches for he who is gone, that one who became his other half." Taynad seated herself on the edge of the bunk and leaned over, to gather the Jat into her arms as if it were a hurt child.
"Medic, on our world we have certain training which can unite us with other living creatures beside those of our own species. It may be that we can reach Yan and bring him back. We can only try."
The medic shook his head. "Gentlefem, I fear it is hopeless. But if there is anything you can do—"
He went to seat himself on a stool at the other side of the room, watching them intently.
Taynad, the Jat still held against her, moved carefully around on the bunk, so that as much of her back was now presented to Jofre as possible. He could guess the next step. Though he had never been a part of such linkage, yet he was well aware there were cases in which it would and had worked.
Now he seated himself behind Taynad's back and dropped his hands on her shoulders. The inner commands he knew and gave one by one, each taking him further to the Center. As yet he was aware of nothing but his own search for full control.
With one hand Taynad stroked the small body which she cradled so close to her. She began a soft crooning in which there were no words to be distinguished, only soothing sounds.
Jofre within himself found and fastened upon that strength he sought. Now he drew—launched—as he might a dart—what he shaped. He could feel the feed of it from his center, along his arms, into her body— Then—!
Touch, immediate linkage, being borne along by another's demanding will. A wall against which that will struck, and then began to beat in a heavy pattern, seeking a weakness, a way of entrance—
Swifter grew those blows, steady and unrelenting the draw upon Jofre. He summoned up more and more to feed, to strengthen—
The resistance lessened reluctantly, as if a bit crumbled, and then another. Before him now was a whirling chaos of terror, alien and therefore threatening. Jofre braced himself and held. What they shaped together now was not the battering ram which had found them a way into this place of rolling terror and loss, but rather a thread to be caught up by the churning of what abode there, twisted, tangled. And they were content to have it so for now—though the payment was heavy as there was feedback of that terror, those waves of negative force. They must not only hold their small contact, but protect themselves into the bargain.
Now! She had not spoken, but the order reached Jofre as if it had been shouted like a battle cry. He sent forth a surge of power, the thread tightened as she spun. It was well enmeshed now in the chaos, it held. Yet it formed a path for them. Dark, cold, nothingness slipped along towards those two who dared to touch.
The room was gone, Jofre was aware only of a battle which he could not see, only sense. This—this— Frantically he hunted a shield, a weapon, something to stop that dark counterflow.
As if it lay heavy in his hand he knew now what he must have. The stone out of Qaw-en-itter. Asshi—if it were assha—force—if it could bring him that force. Though he continued to hold to the thread the Jewelbright had spun, yet he groped within him until he in turn touched! Yet this was no chaos—rather ordered energy. His inner self buckled as he strove to harness it. Too much—he was like one filled with fire which ate outward until all which he was might be consumed.
Ruthlessly Jofre fought to turn that wave, that fire, to harness it to the thread. And so it did—whether by his efforts, or perhaps because it was attracted in turn to what they were spinning out from issha strength.
The thread had wound and now was in a whirl which had begun to thicken, to encompass the darkness as if that had substance. And the darkness drew in farther and farther upon its own core until it was like a single nugget of pain and fear. This the thread netted and drew towards its own source.
Jofre was aware again of the woman beside him, of her body trembling in a hold he had tightened to keep her erect and steady. Then the last remaining fragments of the break-bond spread into him and his clap on her shoulders would have fallen away save that there rang from her to him the issha touch—enough to steady him.