Demon's Revenge
Page 37

I didn't get permission to speak, so I wasn't able to tell him that he wasn't getting any support from me and I didn't give a damn about Nedrizif, King or not. I had enough monarchy in my life—some good, some not. I wondered how Ry was faring and resolved not to send mindspeech. I didn't want him to know what my present situation was and idly considered taking Zendeval singy waRjjn by the throat and choking him as after-dinner entertainment.
If he expected me to believe him when he said the word love, then he needed to think again. I had an entire herd of mates who said it all the time and then followed it with practically no substance at all. Instead, I dutifully got up when Zendeval finished his meal and followed him back to his penthouse suite.
"So, the pretender King has come to bow down to us, my friend." Aklus smiled at Chimbl, who stood next to him, and then the twenty-seven witches and warlocks who'd sided with them at their backs. Ry and Erland stood before them, seemingly defenseless against so many.
"Go ahead, show Karathia what you can do," Rylend said, standing firmly before the worst that Karathia had to offer. He recognized the warlocks and witches behind Aklus—Wylend had searched for some of them for years. Yet here they were, like a flock of crows come to pick at the spoils Aklus offered. Chimbl was nothing more than an empty-headed thug, willing to lick Aklus' boots in order to gain a place in his kingdom.
Ry was certainly hoping it wouldn't come to that. He'd practiced diplomacy through the years, in addition to perfecting a very good poker face. If his mother knew what he was doing at the moment, she'd likely have a fit. But this was his war to fight—he was lucky that he had brothers—and a talented father—to help him fight it.
"Surrender now and I will spare your lives," Ry said calmly. "I give you ten ticks to decide."
"So little time?" Aklus laughed. Ry knew what Aklus was doing—he, Chimbl and the others behind them were pooling their strength to hurl it in a single blast at Ry and Erland.
Erland, more than six thousand years a warlock, neither blinked nor twitched. He was prepared to live or die at his son's side. Rylend was his son and a dream he'd had for a very long time—a child who would make a difference to Karathia. He would stand firm and offer his support at this pivotal moment. If they lived, Karathia was likely theirs—to rule as justly as they could. If they fell, Karathia would have to be dealt with.
Erland had already contacted Connegar, asking him to place a shield around the planet if it fell into the wrong hands. Karathia gone rogue could destroy both Alliances. Connegar had already received permission from the Larentii Council to place the shield. The Larentii homeworld stood to suffer if Karathia fell, as Karathia stood on the border between light and dark worlds. Few knew it, but the Larentii homeworld had once stood guard between the dark worlds and the light. For millennia, the Larentii kept their world hidden from all and had no desire to deal with Karathia gone rogue.
"Here's our answer," Aklus grinned and blasted the gathered power at Rylend Morphis and his father. The expended power, when it hit, could be seen light-years away, it was so bright and destructive in its force.
"Reah, come," Zendeval sighed. It was time, I suppose. I followed him to the elevator again and we rode it in silence. The door that we'd traveled through before, marked as a service entrance but coded to Zendeval, Perdil and few others, was our destination inside Galedaro's. Perdil waited outside that entrance, and walked with us down the long, narrow hall lined with electrical wiring and comp-boxes that ran lights, air-conditioning and such.
I kept my eyes on the floor beneath my feet—it was stone of some kind, kept clean s, ktioand polished by those controlled slaves who worked like ants in the bowels of Stellar Winds. Lendill was speaking in my mind. I ignored him. His words were the same ones I'd heard many times before; instructions on what to do in this situation or that. I had my own plans. Lendill could do what he wanted with me afterward. If there was an afterward. I kept walking, Zendeval before me, Perdil behind.
Another cage waited for me, just as there'd been before. At least the full moon was another two eight-days in coming. I hoped Zendeval and his race didn't turn often outside the full moon, else I'd have my hands full, Thifilatha or no.
"Reah, we are prepared to offer millions, but Nedrizif has greater resources," Perdil muttered as the cage door was shut, locking me inside. "If Dantel Schuul bids, he can pay more than Nedrizif. We will find a way to deal with that, should it happen." Perdil walked away, Zendeval close behind.
I gazed around me, at all the others inside cages. They were controlled and had no idea they should be frightened. I did. The lift hooked onto the first cage with a metallic clang, pulling the small prison with its inhabitant up and rolling toward the dock of a waiting transport. It had begun. I clenched my hands around bars and counted prisoners again.
Perdil and the others talked of bidding against one another. I could only imagine that the proceeds would be divided among all involved in the kidnappings, and was likely a status symbol as to who might offer the winning bid on a girl they all desired. It no longer mattered—once we arrived at the sale site, I intended to make this the last slave auction they would ever attend.
Chapter 13
"Are you getting the feed?" Norian and Lendill were both aboard the command ship. The captain had led their forces away from the binary system that included an older star and a white dwarf in the same sector as Stellar Winds. They'd been moving behind it; the star energy given out masking their gathering force.
"Yes," Norian said. He and Lendill were in the map room, watching Reah's camera feeds on one vid while another showed the dot indicating the ship carrying the human cargo.
"Where are they going?" The captain grimaced at the image. He couldn't think of any viable planets or planetoids in the rogue ship's direction.
"This is why we couldn't find them before—they're heading toward mostly empty space. What's there?" Norian barked at an ensign, who scurried to check the comp, pulling up the area the rogue ship targeted.
"Nothing, Director," the Ensign muttered. "There's no life anywhere there. A couple of dead planets, that's it."
"Which dead planets?" Lendill did the barking this time.
"Cloudsong and Thiskil, sir," the ensign replied.
"Both killed by Zellar," Norian cursed.
"We've checked them in the past—they're still empty," the captain offered.
"But they may not be empty, tonight. Tell me, you were looking for life-forms, weren't you?" The light was coming on for Lendill.
"Yes. We found nothing. There was no need to search further—these planets are only home to old or ancient technology, now. Why would we need to look for that?" the captain scoffed.
"Because new technology may have been added to it," Norian felt ghostly hands move up his spine. He was on the same wavelength as Lendill, now. They'd both heard Zendeval Rjjn talk of a takeover. Technology was available to force the Alliance satellites and main comp systems to succumb to its commands. It wasn't legal in either Alliance, but these people were smarter than he'd imagined—setting new technology among the old, knowing that with so much of it there, a few additional items would go unremarked.
"They're going to do it tonight," Lendill whispered. "They'll not only take over the people, but every information system in both Alliances. Bro," he turned to Norian, "we're screwed."
"Every ship on manual, break away from ASD comps now!" Norian shouted. The ensign rushed to obey, as every system shut down on the ship and darkness fell.
Two clicks at hyperspeed. That's how long it took. My fingers itched to hold a comp-vid and calculate which systems might be reached from Stellar Winds during that time. My cage and sixty-six others were in a cargo hold with no windows or comforts available. Controlled slaves dressed in little more than rags walked among the cages, watching for distress, fainting or illness. Some people don't do well at hyperspeed; it disorients them. It's much like traveling upon an ocean in a boat, for some reason. Buckets and cleaning cloths were provided to the few who became ill, while a physician tended to two who fainted. I watched all of it dispassionately, waiting for our landing.
"So, you think that little cook is going to be yours, do you? I heard dessert isn't all she can do." Dantel Schuul grinned and slapped Zendeval on the back. Perdil grimaced at the one who'd provided all the comp components to construct the brain machines, all of which were set to take over every information system in both Alliances. With controllers injected into so many, now, it was easy to set things up for the takeover.
Perdil, however, was one of the few who wasn't controlled. Regretted now that he'd allowed Zen to be controlled by Nedrizif. Wished more than once that he'd removed the damn thing himself. That way he would be assured of having one ally when he killed Dantel Schuul and the others. They were human scum.
Nedrizif, well, he and Perdil had been allied for a while. They understood one another. Zen's streak of fairness had been quelled—and his life taken over—by a controller developed by Schuul Enterprises. Perdil sighed and turned away from Dantel Schuul. The opportunity would come, and Perdil still had a winning card to play. He would employ that option only if necessary.
"We have arrived," the commander announced to the gathered dignitaries. Yes, they would be exactly that, Dantel smirked. Dignitaries. Honored leaders. He would be held in reverence one day, much as Ildevar Wyyld was now. As the founder of the new, Combined Alliance, Dantel had plans to rule all of it, and with his controllers and controlling brains, there would be no crime unless he commanded it. He was looking forward to playing with lives. He already did that, but this would be on the grandest scale imaginable. Dantel's fingers twitched, just thinking about it.
I felt the ship lurch when we landed. The ship was a modified freighter, no doubt with luxury cabins added. Those cabins would be equipped with the most expensive shock systems available, to cushion Zendeval and his cronies from the inconvenience of the land {e od. ing jolts. The caged slaves received no such comforts and some had to be tended a second time. I looked at eyes around me—mostly blank stares met my gaze. A few clutched the bars of their cages, feeling a bit of fear. At least that much was left to them.