Condemned (Death Planet Book 1) (20 page)

Too late to worry about that now.

Skull-face stepped back. Then turned and ran.

Nick stopped, but raised his sword. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Killing the King was one thing, but no-one else should get hurt, if they weren’t responsible for making this world the way it was. Not even the Guards.

Not that he would have much choice. When he found the King, he was going to have to set it off, regardless of who else was around.

Hopefully they'd understand.

Nick stepped forward, then back again, as though his feet were unsure which direction to go. “Then what the fuck are you doing with that fucking bomb?”

Drones buzzed down, swarming around them, recording the action. The fight must have attracted them.

Daniel stepped toward the archway, and Nick stepped back. “I’m just going through that gate.”

Nick glanced toward the archway, then at Daniel, then at the keg. Then he stepped back as Daniel crept toward him. The archers on the wall looked at each other. They were probably trying to figure out whether the explosion would reach them if they shot him.

“Oh, fuck this,” Nick said. He turned and ran.

Daniel followed, jogging as fast as he could with the bomb on his chest. The two patrolling Guards kept a safe distance as he approached the archway, then stepped through.

Andy strolled out of the tower. He stared at Daniel, then unsheathed his sword before he jogged toward the courtyard.

“What’s going on?” Andy shouted.

“He’s got a bomb,” the Guard yelled from above.

“Seal the tower,” Andy yelled. “Protect the King.”

A Guard at the tower entrance ran toward a lever on the wall, and pulled until his muscles strained. The rusty lattice of a portcullis rattled as it began to descend.

A
h, this is the life. Hot water. Something resembling soap. Something resembling shampoo. Powder to cover her bruises. Lipstick, even if it did taste like something a pig shat out. Hair brushes, if only made from wood and some kind of stiff fur.

Princess leaned back in the warm, foamy bath that filled most of the steamy room, and laid her head on the edge. She closed her eyes as she rubbed soap over her bare skin, washing away the dirt and mud. How long had it been since she had a proper cleanup? Felt like days.

What a fool she'd been. She should never have run when they told her she was going to the King's harem. What better place for a Princess? Particularly when there were so many worse places she could have ended up in this shithole.

Now her aching muscles were relaxing in the water, and she smelled so good.

She was going to be the King's girl. A real king, even if he didn't have much of a kingdom to rule over. Surely kings had to be even better than commissars? Please, just let him be black. Then she could die happy.

“Chuck me the soap,” the girl at the far end of the bath said. It would have been large enough for a dozen girls, if they were friendly. And if they didn’t have big, bulging, pregnant bellies like Serafina over there.

Princess threw the soap that way. It splashed into the water and sank. Serafina fumbled underwater until she found it, then rubbed it over her skin.

A very pregnant cat-girl groaned from a wooden chair on the far side of the baths. She rubbed the bulbous, furry stomach beneath her thin gown, and her tail flicked behind the chair.

“Can you please kill me?” she said, then groaned again.

Princess had imagined herself like that since well before her change. She’d wanted to feel her body bulge with an eager new life growing inside her. But the World State would never allow a girl like her to Mate. Bad for the future of the human race to let criminals have kids. If the girls here were pregnant, PubSafe must have turned off the birth control implants the State fitted to everyone back home. She just needed a good man.

Water dripped from her body as she stood. One of the other girls tossed a towel to her, and she wrapped it around herself, then strolled across the cold stone floor to a wooden lounge chair. She settled down on it, and stretched out. For the first time since she woke in her pod, she actually felt safe.

She yawned, then her stomach rumbled. What her body really wanted was a proper night’s sleep in a soft bed, and a damn good meal.

“I’m hungry,” she said.

Serafina nodded toward an arch on the far side of the room. “Kitchen’s down there. You might as well pick yourself one of the empty beds, while you’re at it.”

Princess wandered that way, her wet feet slapping on the floor. She’d better find some shoes. She peered into the arches along the hallway. Half a dozen beds in each room, with shiny dresses and thin nighties hanging from hooks above them. Pregnant girls slept on two of the beds. She picked a bed that didn’t look lived in, where the clothes looked her size. It crunched beneath her ass as she sat on it, like the mattress was full of straw. She better not be allergic.

Footsteps approached the room along the hallway, then a Guard’s face peered in. Princess pulled the towel up.

The Guard stepped in. “The King desires that newbie ass.”

“I'm not ready.” How could she go to him for the first time, looking such a mess? She still needed to finish cleaning up.

“The King is going to pound it right now.”

“Give me a minute. I have to brush my hair.”

“The King doesn’t care that your hair is a mess. The King cares that your ass is in his bed, wearing something frilly, and begging for his cock.”

Oh, crap. This could really be it, after all these years. Did she look OK? Her heart fluttered. What if he didn't like her? She fluffed her hair. She'd only have one chance to make a good impression. It was like lying in the body shop bed after her change, waiting for Frankie, wondering if he'd still like her.

She grabbed the first dress she found, and pulled it on over her head. She pulled it down around her waist, and wriggled until it slid into place. The dark circles of her nipples showed right through the cloth. It barely reached her knees, but, given how loose it hung elsewhere, it was probably meant to end much higher on a taller girl. Several pairs of six-inch red heels stood on the floor between the beds, and one of them just about fit when she pulled the straps tight.

She brushed her hair, quickly. The Guard stared at her, but she ignored them. If the King was riding her for the first time, she was going to look as good as she could.

The Guard pulled the brush from her.

She grabbed the handle. “Give that back.”

“I said, the King wants you now.”

He pulled the brush away, and placed it on the shelf above the bed. Then grabbed her hand, and pulled her toward the door. Her tapping heels echoed back from the stone walls.

That would have to do, then.

“Thanks,” Serafina said as the Guard led Princess back through the pool room. “I thought it was my turn tonight.”

Then he unlocked the door and led her out into the hallway beyond, where another Guard stood on each side of the door. They did their best to ignore her as she passed, then watched her ass as she sauntered along the hallway.

“How come you get to Guard the harem?” she said.

“I’m not interested in girls,” the Guard said.

“Oh, you’re gay.”

“No. Pirates cut my balls off, when I landed in the sea.”

Then they turned a corner, into a wider hallway where flags hung from the ceiling. Eyes stared at her from alcoves in the wall. No, not eyes, eye sockets. Empty eye sockets in yellowed skulls, some cracked and smashed, others sawed open above the eyebrows. The skulls stood on stone plinths along the wall.

“What is this place?”

“Hall of Skulls. What else would it be?”

“What’s it for?”

“The King likes to remember those who cross him. And likes his visitors to remember what happens if they cross him.”

Princess shivered. Her head better not be up there in the morning. No, she was going to give the King the best ride of his life. She wrapped her arms around herself in the hope of finding warmth in the cold stone hallway. The harem might be warm and comfortable, but the rest of the castle wasn’t.

Still, the King would keep her warm that night. This was exactly why she'd had her own balls cut off. A king wanted her. Her, and none of the other girls in the town, city, or whatever it might be. A king could have anyone. If she was still at home, she’d have been telling all the girls about it, boasting about how special she was.

A king. A real king.

Her kids would be princes, and princesses. And, with any luck, he'd have knocked her up before dawn.

The patter of tiny feet was coming her way at last.

Oh, life was good. She would have got herself Condemned years ago, if she’d known this was what it would be like.

Then men yelled, and bells rang. What the fuck was that?

And why now?

A
bout fucking time. Men were yelling above the dungeon, and the winch that controlled the portcullis turned as the chains rattled against it. Then slowed, as it pressed against the naked body of the dead Guard that Guy had stuffed beneath it. Bones crunched under the weight, and broken ribs burst from the chest like petals of a bloody flower. Then the winch stopped.

The kid should keep them occupied for a while. First they'd want to shoot at him, but then they'd realize that shooting a powder keg wasn't the best idea in the world. Then they'd think about stabbing him, but they wouldn't want to be close when he blew up. Then they'd argue about who should be the one to take the blame. By the time they actually decided to do something, Guy should have what he came for, and be long gone. The kid would keep them entertained while he escaped.

The uniform from the Guard he’d killed fit Guy well enough for a disguise. The noise upstairs was getting louder, so any Guards passing by were likely to be too busy to take a close look. He just had to avoid being drafted to help.

He grasped the hilt of the dead Guard’s sword as he crept toward his goal. The drone buzzed ahead, surveying the route, and checking for more Guards. The clouds of smoke from the burning torches dimmed their flickering light, but the drone's image intensifiers showed a clear view.

Something brown and furry, with big, sharp teeth, stared out of the barred window in the door of one cell, and growled at the drone. Kevin and Liam leaned against the wall near the Brain's cell, smoking. More yells echoed around the corridors, but slowly faded away. Most of the Guards stationed in the dungeon were leaving, as expected.

The drone buzzed along the empty corridors. The Guards were either going upstairs to watch the fun, or finding a place to hide, away from the fun. The drone buzzed on. Two Guards strode away along the corridor, toward the steps leading up to the castle tower. Guy waited until they vanished into the smoke, and their footsteps echoed from the steps.

The drone twisted around the corridors, checking the area near the Brain's cell. It was empty. Just the two outside the door to deal with. It turned, and buzzed back toward them.

“Think we should do something?” Kevin said.

Keys rattled on Liam's belt as he turned. “Think I’m really fucking stupid?”

“The King's bitches will have our balls, if he hears we stayed down here when they called an alarm.”

“He'll have our heads if anything happens to the Brain.”

The drone buzzed toward them. Kevin swung his hand at it, and it ducked beneath the blow. Guy steered it down, and it smacked into the keyring, catching it on the arm attached to one of the fans, and pulling it from Liam's belt. Then the drone twisted away, fans spinning wildly under the unbalanced load, and climbing slowly under the weight of the clanking keys.

Liam dropped his joint. “Come back, you fucker.”

The drone's motors buzzed like a swarm of stoned bees as it raced away into the smoky air with its heavy cargo. Guy revved them as hard as they would go, then spun the drone right, and turned into the first side corridor. Liam and Kevin’s feet thumped on the stone not far behind. Then he turned left, and buzzed past a pair of dark eyes staring out of the small, barred window in one of the doors. A thin arm reached out and tried to grab the keys, but the drone dodged aside. Kevin and Liam jogged up the corridor.

“It went that way,” the man in the cell yelled, and pointed behind them.

Guy turned the drone to the right, and dropped it toward the floor. If they were expecting to see it in front of them, maybe they wouldn't spot it low down. They'd still hear it, but the motor noise would echo back from the hard stone walls, as though it was coming from all directions nearby.

A cell door stood open on the left. He flew the drone in there as footsteps approached. A body lay on the floor in the shadows, reduced to a few chunks of rotting flesh and torn cloth over a bare skeleton. Guy flew the drone past the body, then spun it around, and shut down the motors. The cameras peered past the body as the footsteps approached.

Something big and furry appeared in front of the drone, whiskers twitching. The rat rose up above the body and peered at the cameras. Guy spun the motors for a split second, and the rat squeaked as a prop hit it on the nose. It ducked back inside the ribcage, and crunched on something.

Kevin and Liam jogged along the corridor, past the door. Another drone followed, buzzing and weaving.

“There it is,” Kevin yelled.

That drone's motors buzzed louder, and it raced past the door in the opposite direction, the two Guards close behind.

Guy waited a few seconds, then gently lifted his drone from the floor and flew it back toward him. Kevin and Liam's shouts echoed around the corridors as yet another drone buzzed in to record the commotion.

“Hey,” Kevin yelled. “Some poor sod's stuck in the winch.”

“Guess you'd better get him out.”

“Rather you than me. It's a real fucking mess.”

“King'll be pissed if you don't.”

Kevin sighed. “At least it's a reason to stay down here.”

Maybe that would keep them occupied for a while. Guy could probably have killed them too, but the more time he had before anyone realized something was wrong, the better his chances of getting away. Two low-lives like that wouldn't even bother to check the prisoners until the end of their shift.