“Bhruic.”
“—accept my regrets for this indignity?”
“You didn’t hurt him. He doesn’t seem to remember much more than you do.” Though he very well may once Janek is through questioning him.
“Nevertheless, I regret my actions. What of Gunter?”
He spoke the hermit’s name as if he would gladly finish what he’d begun before Gunter stabbed him. Cynara couldn’t blame him; she’d like a few rounds with Gunter herself. But she hadn’t forgotten the ruthless efficiency with which Ronan had been prepared to end the hermit’s life.
A child, beaten again and again, learning at last to defend himself…
“I’ve pulled up his records,” Zheng said. “He’s listed as a veteran of the Second Shaauri War. Apparently all his living relatives were lost on a colony ship bound for Bifrost, where his family was to join him. Shaauri attacked the ship and presumably killed all aboard. The colony was abandoned, and Gunter refused to leave with the others.”
Cynara exchanged glances with the doctor. Such tragedies had been far from uncommon since the blockade. For years most trade between the two human territories had ceased. Only the Pegasus had changed the odds back in human favor… if its secret was preserved from their enemies.
“This suit stinks of shaauri,” Gunter had said. Cynara didn’t want to know how he’d made that connection. Perhaps madness had heightened his senses. He had lost his family and become stranded on an abandoned world. Who could blame such a man for his hate?
“Gunter has cause to despise shaauri,” Ronan said, “as I do.”
Ronan didn’t despise all shaauri. He had respected, perhaps even loved, his mentor. Yet it was an apology of sorts, or at least an attempt at understanding.
“Whatever his reasons,” Cynara said, “he’s mentally unstable and will remain confined until planetfall.”
Ronan looked sharply at her. ‘The Pegasus nears its destination?”
“A matter of days.”
“Days that you will spend resting,” Zheng put in, “either here or in your cabin.”
Ronan seemed not to hear. “We are bound for your world, Aho’Va?”
How strange his formality sounded after Bifrost. “We have stops at several planets, and finish at Dharma.”
“And then?”
And then, indeed. Once she might have promised him the freedom to choose his own destiny, but Janek would make that impossible. He wasn’t going to let Ronan wander about Allied territory without a thorough debriefing. His authority on Dharma was limited, but he still had considerable influence with the Offworld Trade Council.
Cynara had her own kind of influence. She’d left Bifrost convinced that Ronan’s telepathic abilities could be on the brink of recovery, perhaps triggered by her mental touch. Specialists on Dharma could be of great benefit to him. And if Ronan volunteered to share his knowledge of shaauri with the Alliance, it would certainly prove his loyalties.
“We can’t make any decisions now,” she said, hating the need for deception. “You’ll have plenty of time to consider all the possibilities on Dharma.”
“The captain is correct.”
Janek strode into the ward, grim-faced as always. “Ronan VelKalevi will have ample opportunity to contemplate his future as the guest of the Trade Council.” He challenged Cynara with a long stare. “Since you seem determined to bar me from questioning him myself, I’ll leave the task to the experts.”
Cynara stepped into his path. “Ronan has assured me that he doesn’t remember what happened between the time he was confined to his cabin and awakened on the Thalassa. I believe him.”
“His memory lapses are remarkably convenient.”
“He also saved Kord’s life. I thought that Persephone’s laws assured that a person is considered innocent until proven guilty.”
“If I were convinced he was a shaauri spy, he’d be in the brig, Captain, regardless of your opinions.”
“If he were a shaauri spy, Ser Janek, he could have chosen a much safer method of gaining our trust than by risking his life and almost losing it for the sake of a stranger. I’m sure the doctor will be happy to tell you how close he came to death.”
“Yet Bhruic has no explanation for what happened to him.”
“No one was hurt. Whatever Ronan did—”
“He presents far too much of a mystery,” Janek interrupted, “and has too many convenient and unusual skills for a former prisoner. He may be equally adept in the matter of clouding human minds.”