Free The Soterion Mission by Stewart Ross

who calmed things down. Walking quietly over to Navid, she laid a hand on his shoulder.
    “Get off, Taj –” he began, turning round sharply. He stopped, confused. “Oh, sorry, Roxanne. I didn’t realise it was you.”
    “Don’t worry, Navid,” she replied. “No need to apologise.” She spoke so calmly and clearly that it was hard to believe she had heard all the harsh insinuations of Taja’s rant. “Since I seem to be the cause of all this trouble, please let me say something.”
    “Why not? Please go on.” Taja made no effort to hide her scorn.
    In a manner that was close to motherly, Roxanne kept a hand on Navid’s arm. Her voice, as when she spoke before the Majlis back in Della Tallis, was unquestionably sincere.
    “You are all, every one of you, brave and wonderful people. I know what you have sacrificed and I hope that one day, when our mission is accomplished, you will be recognised as the saviours of our people.
    “I have not lied to you and I will not lie to you. My story is true. I believe there is a Soterion and that we will find it and reveal its secrets. But we can do this only if we pull together. Please.”
    Navid nodded his head slightly. “As for our poor friend Zavar,” Roxanne concluded, “his fate is not for us to decide, is it? He had made his decision and, Cyrus and Navid, I believe we would do him a great dishonour if we ignored it. Do you want him to die knowing he may be the cause of his friends’ deaths, too?”
    “No, thank you!” cut in Zavar in a manner that brought a smile to every face.
    The crisis was over. At Cyrus’ insistence they all shook hands and set about making the dying man as comfortable as possible. Navid and Cyrus erected a shelter from branches to protect him from the sun. While Roxanne settled him within this leafy tent, Taja went off to pick some medicinal herbs she had seen growing nearby. She knew a bit about plants, she announced when she returned, and these would help Zavar sleep if the pain became too great. Cyrus was tempted to ask about the leaves she had placed on Zavar’s wound at the stream: if she knew what she was doing, why had her treatment failed to prevent the infection spreading? In the end he thought better of it, deciding the wound must have been inflicted by a poisoned weapon. Besides, there had been enough confrontation for one day.
    They finally departed as the afternoon was drawing to a close, walking fast as if they wanted to get away not just from Zavar but also from their decision to leave him. For a long time no one spoke.
    Finally, as the disc of the dying sun dipped beneath the tops of the tallest trees, Cyrus became aware of someone coming up behind him. It was Roxanne.
    “Cyrus, why do you think she joined us?” Her voice was different: quicker, more urgent.
    The question took him by surprise. “You mean Taj –”
    “Yes. Come on, let’s stop pretending, Cyrus. We haven’t known each other long, but I think we can trust each other, can’t we?”
    “Of course.” With the smile of recognition that passed between them, he again felt that thrill of delight at just being with her. It was a wonderful emotion, yet painfully confusing when death sat poised visibly on every shoulder.
    “So, why’s she here?” Roxanne asked again.
    “Tricky. Part of it is that, well, she and I were lovers. Sort of.”
    “Were, Cyrus?”
    “Yes, were. Nothing serious. She was keener than me – made the relationship a bit lopsided. One day Leiss told me, in confidence, I was ‘unwise’ – that was the word he used – to tangle with Taja. But she was attractive in a dangerous sort of way. I admired her sharp mind, her cleverness, her skill at seeing what mattered and what didn’t.”
    “Understandable.”
    “Yes, but it wasn’t exactly a romantic relationship and I probably shouldn’t have got so involved. I felt guilty sometimes – I suppose I was also a bit sorry for her, reaching her Death Year not having had any