Кристи Голдэн - Twilight

Jake stared, openmouthed. "I...I give up," he said, laughing and throwing his hands in the air. "Tell me what happens now."

Valerian sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. "Well, I'm not quite sure. I have had to stash people away before now, of course, but never anyone Father wanted as badly as he wants you."

"I meant it, you know," Jake said quietly. "I'd have told him everything. He wouldn't have had to—to rip it out of my brain."

The Heir Apparent smiled softly. "I know that, but he doesn't believe anyone would be that honest, Professor. He's so used to mistrust and double dealings he can't understand something that you and I understand very well—that sometimes knowledge is only useful when shared with all who want to learn it."

"The discovery of wonders," Jake said softly, remembering the conversation. Valerian's smile grew, and as he nodded they held each other's gaze for a moment.

"Hate to interrupt this touching moment of male bonding, but Jake has tumors in his brain and he needs a good place to escape to," Rosemary said.

"As usual, the charming Ms. Dahl has put her finger on it," Valerian said. "I always travel with the finest medical staff. They don't need to know the details of why you need to stay alive—just that you do. Come."

"Sir—" Devon Starke's voice was as pleasant and remarkable as his physical appearance was unremarkable, deep, and resonant. "Sir —you cannot do this. I can't permit you to."

Valerian smiled, but there was a glint of steel in his gray eyes. "Devon, I'm fond of you, but you do not get to tell me what I can and cannot do."

"Pardon, sir, I mean no disrespect, but—you are caught in a terrible situation." He glanced at Rosemary and Jake, seemed to make a decision, and continued. "You must either give in to your father and surrender Rosemary and Jake to them, or defy him outright. I know you do not wish to do, either."

Valerian scowled slightly. "Yes, well, I don't really have a choice."

"Yes, sir, you do. You cannot hope to stand against the emperor. And you will not let the professor and Rosemary be destroyed. There's a third way."

Jake and Rosemary exchanged glances. Once, Jake could easily have read the thoughts of anyone in the room. Now he was as he had always been—a non-telepath. Hell, he wasn't even good at readingfaces or body language. He shrugged at Rosemary, who frowned and turned her blue-eyed gaze back to Starke.

"I'm listening," Valerian said quietly. "Will I like this third way?"

"I doubt you will, sir, but you'll have to take it."

Suddenly Devon Starke was in Jake's thoughts again. I felt what you did, when you escaped the first time. When you linked us in that place where we were all a part of each other. When we felt each other's thoughts and feelings, when there was no separation.

He continued in words that went deeper than words, and Jake felt tears sting his eyes as he remembered the connection himself. He thought of Zamara's words to him, and shared that conversation with Devon:

This changed the protoss, he had said to her. What will it do to us?

And her reply.. .Oh, Zamara, how he missed her, how he would always miss her.

That moment was never intended to be shared beyond our own species. The Khala is for us, not you, and it is sacred, not a toy.... Truly, Jacob, I do not know what will happen. Your species is... young yet to grasp the true significance. Most likely, most of those who experienced it will discount it, scoff at it, and dismiss it as a momentary fancy.

But...not all?

No. Not all.

Devon Starke's mental voice, alive with pain and joy and hope and longing: Not all, Professor.

Jake stared at Devon, opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word he felt the former ghost dive into his mind. There was little pain; Starke knew what he was doing, and this was a linking of human to human rather than protoss to human. But it caught Jake off guard, rather as if he had been suddenly seized, and he gasped slightly in surprise. He felt Starke rooting around in his thoughts, taking something, discarding something else—

Thank you, Professor. Thank you for everything. I'm sorry for what I must now do.

And then there was pain—lots and lots of it. Jake cried out sharply, stared at Starke in shock and betrayal, and slumped unconscious to the floor.

"STARKE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Valerian's normally modulated, smooth voice was deep and rough with anger as he rushed to the fallen bodies, checking for pulses and then lifting his gray eyes, storm clouds now, to the former ghost.

"They're unharmed," Starke assured him. "And you'd best get the professor into surgery as soon as possible."

Having assured himself that both Ramsey and Dahl were all right, the sharp edge of Valerian's fury was tempered, but only slightly. "I assume you've got a reason for doing this."

"Indeed I do, sir. I do what you cannot."

Valerian rose. "Explain."

"Your father wants a pound of flesh. Let it be me."

Valerian's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Sir, there's no way that you can defy your father and come out of this well. I made a vow to serve you to the utmost of my abilities, and that is what I intend to do." He hesitated, a self-deprecating, almost shy smile curving his lips. "You saved my life, Your Excellency. I've been on borrowed time ever since. I believe in you, sir. In you and in Professor Ramsey. Let me trade my life for the three of you—for your continued safety and freedom. Give me to your father and his ghosts."

Valerian had been trained from childhood to play the fine game of politics. He had carefully schooled himself to not reveal his emotions. But for the second time in almost as many minutes, his veneer of poise was shattered.

"What?"

"I dived deep into Professor Ramsey's mind. I extracted quite a lot of information. Arcturus will send ghosts to get that information, and there's enough there that they'll think they've learned all there is to know. I'll put up enough mental barriers so they'll have to really digfor it—that way it will seem believable, and also buy you, Ramsey, and Dahl some time. You'll have the chance to hide them somewhere far away, where your father won't find them. I fear I caused the professor quite a bit of pain—do apologize for me, won't you?"

"Devon.. .if they are forced to extract the information with you fighting them...that's going to kill you, isn't it?"

The former ghost shrugged his thin shoulders. "Possibly. At the very least, it will shatter my mind. I'll be quite useless to anyone afterward." He said this with only the faintest tremor. Anyone who didn't know him well would have thought he was discussing the weather.

"As for you, sir, I'm a trained ghost. Any memories I have of this conversation will be so scrambled and disjointed by the time they reach them that they won't be sure what's a lie and what's the truth. You'll be completely off the hook and able to claim that I acted totally independently."

"There has to be.. .we could find another way." Even as he said the words, Valerian realized that they were nothing more than wishful thinking.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think so. You needed to call on the emperor to recover Professor Ramsey. We're here at the crossroads, and this is the only viable path."

Slowly, Valerian nodded. "Is...well, there's no one I should notify, is there?" Devon Starke had been separated from his family since he had been conscripted for the ghost program. No one would miss him—except for Valerian.

"No, sir. But if you'd do something for me, I'd be most grateful."

"Name it."