Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1) (30 page)

Nicoli shot his friend a you-should-know-better look, then went to sit on the edge of the bed. An overwhelming tiredness threatened to envelop him and he rubbed his face as if he could wipe away the fatigue. “You know I never meant to marry. My lifestyle is filled with too many dangers and uncertainties. Plus, Angel has this idyllic notion about love and marriage.” He shook his head, as if there were no point in trying to argue against such naiveté.

“What are you going to do?”

“When we get to Earth, I’ll utter some official sounding words and then tell her she’s free to leave. When she finds someone else to marry, I won’t press my claim.”

“What about you? Will you remarry?”

“I will not dishonor the vows I took.”

“Then why let her?”

“It is my duty, and my pleasure, to see to her happiness. If giving her this divorce makes her happy, so be it.”

“What about your happiness?” Yanur asked softly.

Nicoli smiled. It was meant to be reassuring, but he knew Yanur would not be fooled by it. “Go see to the mother.”

Chapter 19

Ashen in color, malnourished and thin, the woman on the bed was still the most beautiful woman Yanur had ever seen. It was clear to him now where Angel inherited her stunning good looks. And though he had originally taken on the task of nursing her back to health as a favor to Angel, the task became personal the moment he set eyes on her.

He walked over to the bed to take a closer look. The woman was asleep, lying with eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in a steady pattern. She seemed perfectly at peace, except for an occasional whimper. Yanur took the triage unit out of his black bag and scanned her from head to toe.

“Well?” Angel asked, standing patiently off to the side.

Yanur leaned closer to his patient to make sure she was sleeping before he answered. “There is substantial damage to the internal organs. They are being eaten by disease.” With a sudden pain to his heart, Yanur realized that if he couldn’t stop the progress of the disease, she would die soon.

He set the triage unit down on the bedside table, then returned to his bag to remove the cellular Reparator. When he turned back to his patient, quiet violet-colored eyes watched him.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he hurried to reassure her, although she didn’t seem distressed by his presence. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Am I dead?”

Her question made him smile. “No.”

“But I am dying.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she slipped into sleep again.

“Not if I can help it.” He turned on the Reparator and, starting at her head, slowly ran the wand down the entire length of her body, periodically checking the instrument’s battery gauge. He’d made one full sweep when the Reparator’s humming stopped. The crystals were drained. Placing it back in his bag, he used the triage unit to double-check his work.

“Yanur?” Angel’s quiet voice came to him.

“I’ve stopped the deterioration for now. But doing so drained the crystals. I’ll need to replace them before continuing the treatment.” He put the triage unit in his bag and closed it. He started to leave, but Angel’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“I’ll go get the crystals. I know where I can find some and even though I’m a woman, I’m still the High Counsel’s granddaughter. I won’t have any problems.” Angel headed for the door, but she paused before opening it. When she turned to him, there was an uncertainty in her eyes. “Will you stay with her?”

“Of course. But be careful. Alex would never forgive either one of us if you got hurt.”

After she left, he turned back to the bed. Once again, he was awed by the woman’s pale beauty. Almost afraid to touch such a vision, he laid his hand across her forehead, checking for residual signs of fever. Her head felt cool to his touch.

About to step back, Yanur saw her eyes open.

“You’re awake again.” He smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.” Her voice grew a little stronger. “What did you do?”

“I’ve stopped the progression of the disease attacking your body.”

“Am I cured?”

His smile faltered. “Not yet, I’m afraid.”

“Thank you for trying.” She laid a hand on his arm and her touch was gentle heat shooting through his system. He hoped she wouldn’t notice the effect her touch had on him and silently chided himself for acting like a schoolboy with a crush. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound more professional and detached. “Don’t give up just yet. I’m not finished with you. It may take some time, but I’ll have you out of that bed before you know it.” He hoped like hell he wasn’t lying to her.

She smiled and the whole room brightened. “Would you help me sit up? I’ve been lying here for I don’t know how long.”

Yanur savored the feel of her hands braced on his shoulders as he practically lifted her off the bed. She weighed next to nothing. After fluffing the pillows for her, she leaned back. Suddenly she frowned and ran a hand across her hair. “I must look a mess.”

“No, you look beautiful.” Oh God, he sounded like a love-struck idiot. He felt himself blush and quickly turned so she wouldn’t see his face. When he turned back, he saw that a healthy glow graced her cheeks.

Clearing his throat, he tried to speak. “Maybe I should let you rest now,” he mumbled, not really wanting to leave.

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Are you sure you can’t stay a little while?”

“Well, I...”

“Please.”

He was putty in her hands. “I would be delighted.” He looked around the room for a chair.

“Here.” She moved her legs and patted the edge of the bed. “I’m afraid I’m still a little confused. Have we met?”

“No.” He sat down, careful not to jostle the bed too much. “My name is Yanur Snellen.”

“Yanur, what an interesting name. My name is Kat’rina ToRrenc.”

Yanur picked up her hand and gently laid a kiss upon her knuckles in the way he’d seen it done on old Earth documentaries. “Kat’rina ToRrenc. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He was rewarded with the light tinkling sound of her laughter.

“Tell me, Yanur, what brings you to Coronado? I know full well my father would never send for an off-world physician.”

“I came here with your daughter, Angel.”

“Angel?” She asked in obvious disbelief.

He smiled and nodded.

“My Angel? It wasn’t a dream? She’s alive?”

“Yes, she’s alive.”

“Where is she?” She looked around the room as if Angel might be hiding in the room. “I thought I had imagined her. I never dared hope she was really alive.”

Yanur spoke in a quiet, reassuring tone. “She will be back shortly. I know she’s eager to see you feeling better.”

“My father…does he know?” Kat’rina grew agitated. “Did he hurt her? She can’t stay. He’ll sell her to the highest bidder.”

Yanur patted her hand, trying his best to calm her after the quick and frightened outburst. “It’s okay. No one is going to hurt her, or sell her off. Not so long as Alex is around.”

“Alex?”

“Perhaps I should start from the beginning.” He studied her complexion, which had lost some of its color. “That is, as long as you feel up to it.”

“Yes, please.”

For the next hour, Yanur and Kat’rina talked. Yanur told her everything he could about Alex and Angel, while Kat’rina told him what she could about the High Counsel and his advisors. Neither noticed the time slipping by until finally the door to Kat’rina’s bedroom opened.

“Mother!” Angel ran across the room.

“My Angel!” Kat’rina stretched her arms out wide and Yanur barely moved out of the way in time before Angel threw herself into her mother’s embrace.

For a moment, neither could speak past the stream of tears. Then suddenly, the dam burst and both women were talking and laughing at once. Neither noticed when Yanur quietly slipped from the room.

* * * * *

The dinner guests had all gone home and while it was late at night, the High Counsel’s chambers were no less active. Despite his advanced years and failing health, Gil’rhen felt better than he had in a long time. He sat at his desk, observing the by-play between his advisors, careful not to show his amusement.

Victor ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, and looked to Rianol for support.

“I believe what Victor is trying to suggest,” Rianol said, “is that the people may have a hard time accepting Colonel Romanof as High Counsel because he’s not Coronadian. You must admit that for a man who has always touted the importance of tradition, this is an unexpected move on your part.”

Gil’rhen purposely misunderstood their message. “Your concern for my granddaughter’s welfare is touching. But I thought she looked happy. Didn’t you think she looked happy, Rianol? Victor?”

He almost laughed as confusion distorted Victor’s face. They no doubt thought he’d gone senile. After all, when had he ever cared whether anyone was happy?

“My concern is for the blood lineage.” Victor tried again to press his point. “Or don’t you care anymore that the succession to the House of Scyphor will be passed into the hands of an off-worlder?”

Gil’rhen raised an eyebrow. “You are concerned about a dilution of the bloodline?”

“Yes.” Victor heaved a sigh, no doubt pleased that finally Gil’rhen understood his concerns.

Gil’rhen waited a heartbeat before giving his advisors something to think about. “You’re not viewing this situation the way I am. Don’t think of Colonel Romanof as an alien. Think of him as our link to the United System of Planets – the most powerful governing entity in the known universes. And the single largest user of tyrillium. When the USP’s supply runs dry, where do you think they will turn to secure more? To an unknown source? Or to their very own Colonel Romanof, who controls Coronado, where tryillium is as common as air? I assure you, they will be delighted to pay whatever we charge.”

A knock at the door interrupted further discussion and the men looked up as the doors opened and Colonel Romanof was ushered in.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said. “I was hoping for a few minutes of your time.”

“Of course, of course. We were just finished, weren’t we?”

Victor frowned, obviously not pleased with the interruption. Both advisors exchanged greetings with Colonel Romanof as they passed him on their way out.

Gil’rhen offered the younger soldier a seat in one of the chairs grouped on the side of his office.

“Would you like a drink?” Gil’rhen offered, walking over to the sideboard where he kept a collection of the finest liquors. “I have both local and inter-galactic ales.”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Very well.” Gil’rhen smiled to himself as he turned his back and selected a bottle containing dark green liquid. Distilled Baneubian tree sap. Very potent, but with a vile taste. It was a favorite among his warriors, who considered drinking it a sign of strength and control. He would see what type of soldier his granddaughter had married.

He turned back around, a small glass of the green liquid in each hand. He held one out to Colonel Romanof, then sat in the chair opposite the younger man. “I’m surprised to see you at this time of night. Have you and my granddaughter tired of one another so quickly?”

Rather than hurry to give Gil’rhen reassurances, as most men would do, Romanof merely gave him a tolerant smile. “Angel is visiting with her mother at the moment.”

Gil’rhen nodded, then took a sip from his drink. The vile liquid burned its way down his throat, but he showed no reaction.

“High Counsel, there is a matter of some importance we must discuss.”

“Please, I am at your service.” He spoke, only dimly following the conversation. The rest of his attention focused on the moment when Romanof would lift the glass and drink. Would he wince? Gil’rhen wondered. Or cough as the liquid burned him? In anticipation, Gil’rhen took another sip of his own drink.

Romanof raised his glass to his lips and their eyes briefly met over the rim. Gil’rhen thought he saw the other man smile, but couldn’t be certain. Then Romanof tipped the entire contents of his glass into his mouth and smoothly swallowed the liquid.

Gil’rhen struggled to keep the surprise from his face. Romanof’s eyes didn’t even water. His admiration and respect for the young colonel rose another notch. But he wasn’t through testing the man.