By the Sea of Sand Read online

  She loved him and would always love him.

  With a subtle shift of their bodies, he eased inside her. His fingers circled on her clit as he filled her, and she couldn’t hold back her moan. She rocked her hips, urging him deeper. They moved together, no hesitation or fumbling.

  She lost herself in the pleasure. Too late for her to hold it back or worry that it might’ve triggered him, she cried his name when it overtook her. Shuddering, she turned her face to give him her mouth. His tongue stroked hers, his fingers never ceasing their magic. His teeth snagged her lower lip as he came, and the taste of blood flooded her mouth as another rush of climax washed over her.

  Relaxing against him, still connected, Teila wanted to let herself take the comfort of his bare skin on hers and couldn’t. Without moving, she whispered, “What changed?”

  He didn’t reply at first, and she wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. What answer could he give that would satisfy her?

  When he drew in a breath, she tensed, waiting for him break her heart anew. Before he could say a word, the door flew open. Pera shouted from the doorway, “Come quick! Stephin’s sick! He’s really sick!” And after that, all that mattered to Teila was getting to her son.

  Chapter 28

  It should’ve been easier than this. They ought to have been able to put out a call for the closest medicus, but a fresh storm outside had cut off external communications again. They’d sent Vikus and Billis in the landcruiser to the next town, but it would be hours before they returned with any help. They needed to help the boy now.

  “Input symptoms,” intoned the voice from the monitor. The medprogram was old, probably out of date, but this far out it was the only option they had.

  “Vomiting. Lethargy. Thready pulse. Pallor.” Jodah looked at the boy who lay in Teila’s arms without moving. He’d been that way for the past hour.

  The medprogram’s face was so neutral in its features it was impossible to tell if it were supposed to be male or female. It wasn’t three-dimensional, either. It clicked as it took in the information Jodah fed it, its face expressionless. It would’ve been better, he thought, if it had no face at all.

  “Diagnosing,” it said, then fell silent.

  “Mothers-forsaken thing,” Teila said. She dipped a cloth in water and tenderly wiped it over Stephin’s brow. The boy moaned a little but didn’t move. “He’s never been this sick before.”

  Jodah rapped the side of the monitor, hoping to jolt the program into action, but all that happened was that the screen flickered and went black. He muttered a curse and hit the power switch again, but when the blank face swam into view, not even the monotonous voice came out of it. The lips moved in silence.

  “It’s useless anyway. We need a medicus,” Teila said.

  In her arms, Stephin lay limp. Jodah touched the boy’s forehead. He was glassy-eyed, cheeks flushed, but no fever. When Jodah pushed open his mouth to examine inside, a cluster of white blisters caught his attention. They meant something, though he couldn’t remember what.

  He cursed again. “I’m missing something.”

  Teila bathed her son’s face again. “Vikus will be back soon, won’t he? Oh, Mothers. Please let him get back soon.”

  “I can help him. I know it.” Jodah reached for him, intending to put the boy on the bed, but Teila covered him protectively with her body.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Put him on the bed,” Jodah said gently. “I want to look him over. I feel like I can figure this out. I know I can.”

  “You’re not a medicus.” Teila shook her head sharply.

  The distrust on her face, so different from the way she usually looked at him, twisted Jodah’s guts but also thinned his mouth. He didn’t have the right to be angry with her, yet fury rose inside him at being balked. He fought it by backing up and turning his back on her. His fists clenched. He breathed in. Breathed out. The data stream scrolled and scrolled, spitting useless trivia at him instead of making the connections he knew were in there and would help him figure out how to help the boy.

  Blisters. Pallor. Lethargy. Vomiting.

  “Whale oil. Oh, Mothers,” he said. “Teila, the boy ingested whale oil.”

  “What? How?”

  “He must’ve gotten into it in the shed . . . I thought I put it away, but—”

  “Get out!”

  “I can help him,” he said in a low voice.

  Teila’s hoarse shout turned him. “No, you can’t! So why don’t you just get out! Get out of here! I can’t deal with you right now! You poisoned my child!”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but even an enhanced soldier, a Rav Gadol of the Sheirran Defense Force, was no match for a mother driven by terror for her child. Jodah nodded and backed away, closing the door behind him. Downstairs, he went to the kitchen, thinking to try the monitor as though the system might work better there. It didn’t, of course, since all the monitors were serviced by the same network.

  Which he could probably fix.

  It meant trying to access the data stream again. Pain throbbed in his skull and the base of his neck. It wasn’t a matter of simply focusing on the unending scroll, any more than he had to tell his legs “walk” before they’d move. Pulling what he needed from the constant analysis of his surroundings and putting it together into what he needed required concentration, yet couldn’t be accomplished with something as simple as a command.

  Thoughts rarely come in words. They’re images, memories, sounds. He needed to think his way to the solution. Stop trying to force it. He needed to embrace the data stream as part of him, not some alien thing.

  Standing in the kitchen, Jodah opened himself. His muscles went loose, fists uncurling, head drooping. He remembered the smell of the flowers in his dreams, the tickle of flowing hair on his face . . . His mind reached, reached for the memory of how to fix a viddy network . . .

  So entrenched in what he was doing, Jodah at first didn’t move when the back door flung open and Billis staggered in with a bleeding Vikus in his arms. Vikus was screaming. Billis too, but Jodah couldn’t understand a word either of them were saying. Their screams brought Venga running, but the old man skidded to a stop at the sight of all the blood.

  “No,” he said. “It wasn’t supposed to—”

  “Get out of the way, old man.” Rehker came from behind him, pushing him aside. “By the Three, Billis. Stop hollering and put him on the table.”

  As Billis struggled to get his brother on the flat surface, all hope of accessing the data stream for any useful purpose vanished. Jodah went with Rehker to the table, both of them reaching for Vikus, who spat and struggled despite the many gashes all over his face and arms.

  “Wrecked,” he cried. “Someone cut the landing wires, we only got a few cliks before we flipped into a ditch!”

  Billis, pale and shaking, clutched Vikus hand. “We rolled into a ditch. We were going really fast.”

  “Someone,” Vikus panted as his eyes rolled up in his head, “did it on purpose.”

  Then he passed out.

  “Move away.” Rehker unlaced the front of Vikus’ robes. “We need to stop the bleeding.”

  Pera had appeared as well, dark circles shadowing her eyes. She hovered to one side, a hand over her mouth as she watched Rehker press a cloth to one of the worst wounds. Jodah thought she was holding back a sob but, to his disgust, the bitch was laughing.

  “You’re making it worse!” Billis tried to shove Rehker away, but was no match for the soldier.

  Rehker shoved back twice as hard, sending Billis to the floor. Apparently it wasn’t enough for him to toss Billis to the ground, because he then kicked him in the ribs. When the younger man howled and writhed, Rehker slammed his foot onto Billis’ chest, pinning him. “Stand down! Stand the fuck down!”

  Pera laughed from the corner, both hands now covering her mouth. She sounded both desperate and pained, like every guffaw ripped something inside her. Jodah didn’t