Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (20 page)

Gabralthaar and Ka`vesh unclasped her hands and feet. The moment she was freed, she wrenched her body violently from side to side in an effort to escape. They restrained her with ease. Nagogg said nothing as the two Bakma led her to the door. Spinning her head in Tauthin’s direction, Svetlana’s scared blue eyes locked onto his for the briefest of moments.

Tauthin’s face fell grave. All the while Svetlana resisted, all the while she screamed—at Nagogg, at her two handlers, at Tauthin himself in irrational desperation—Tauthin watched her. She was thrust into the hallway, past Ed and the blinded Kraash-nagun, where Gabralthaar and Ka`vesh slammed her back against the wall. Nagogg exited the chamber, and the door slid shut.

Through the metal, Tauthin heard Svetlana screaming in vain for her captors to release her. But the tussling continued. Tauthin listened as the rending of clothes began. There were rips, violent tears. The total stripping of dignity. Though she pled for them to stop, the tearing continued until there was nothing left to be torn. Then he heard them move her.

Svetlana’s voice, the reverberations of her useless kicks and punches, grew more distant down the hall of the Noboat. They became muffled behind metal, fading away until there was no sound at all.

His chest heaving, Tauthin hung forward in microgravity, ears acutely listening. Waiting for the inevitable. When it came, his jaw set, and he closed his eyes.

Svetlana screamed—she pled. He could hear her panicked words through the wall, words repeated over and over, hysteria growing with every syllable. Begging them not to proceed. But proceed, they did.

Screams the likes of which he’d never heard from a human echoed through the hallways, bouncing off the lifeless metal of the Noboat’s hull as if broadcast for all to hear and take heed. Lung-tearing screams. Life-altering screams. But they did not last long. Svetlana’s screams morphed into wails of pain, mingled with realization, mingled with disbelief. Tauthin fought to ignore them, to no avail. This was torture that was
meant
to be heard.

Tauthin’s veins pulsed with fire. He continued to breathe fervently, his inhalations and exhalations akin to that of a predator listening for prey, but powerless to pursue it. Sweat seeped from every pore on his body.

The chamber door opened and Nagogg hovered past its threshold. With a backhanded fling, he threw something at Tauthin’s face. Tauthin flinched as it deflected off his forehead with a wet squish, then drifted in front of him. His violet eyes sought it out and it came into focus.

It was a nose.

Angling his head wickedly from the precipice of the chamber, Nagogg addressed Tauthin through his lipless smile. “Now, she knows. Now, she fears. Now, she will obey.”

No time was allotted for Tauthin to reply. Drifting backward and out of the chamber, Nagogg’s eyes stayed fixated on Tauthin’s until the chamber door sealed shut. The Bakma captive was left alone.

During the half hour that followed, Tauthin heard no sounds from beyond the chamber—no screaming, no scuffling. Only the faint, distant hum of the Noboat’s engine room could be distinguished, and even that was barely audible at all. The only sounds of movement came from Tauthin himself as he occasionally moved his hands and feet in their clasps.

Though there was nothing distinct to hear in the Noboat, there was change in the vessel’s lighting. Not long after Nagogg had left, the deep blue light near the chamber door was replaced by an equally dark red, only to have the dark red replaced by a simple white contour light. The Noboat had materialized. This indicated that the Noboat was in full fuel-replenishment mode. Though fuel cells could be recharged while the vessel was in the
Zone
, the name given to the temporary dimension the Noboat’s crystal was able to create, charging went much faster when in what the Khuladi called
real space
.

Though humans referred to the vessels as Noboats, to the Bakma and Khuladi they were dubbed Zone Runners. Zone Runners were neither Bakma or Khuladi technology. They were the brainchild of the
Subjugated Ithini
—the portion of the Ithini species that had been captured and placed into servitude by the Khuladi. The Ithini who had escaped Khuladi rule, long before the Bakma had ever encountered the Khuladi at all, were known as
Free Ithini
. It was a common misconception that the Free Ithini were more intelligent than the Subjugated Ithini, but it was far from the truth. Quite the contrary, the Subjugated Ithini were capable of far greater technological achievements—just not in the realms of their choosing. The Khuladi were masters in every regard, directing all of their subjugates in the manners in which they saw fit, Ithini included. The Subjugated Ithini had been ordered to create trans-dimensional technology, so they had, focusing all of their intellect in that direction and only that direction, with no space allotted for free thinking. With that kind of forced focus, the Ithini were dangerously capable, but only as a collective. On an individual basis, the Subjugated Ithini often appeared less apt in most areas.

To the best of Tauthin’s knowledge, the Ithini were the only species to have ever been split, with some falling under subjugation and some escaping to other parts of the galaxy. This was also due to Ithini jump-drive and skip-drive technology, technology that allowed for space travel over vast distances without affecting time. The Khuladi had essentially captured this technology from the Ithini they’d initially encountered, using it to bolster their military and advance. It was due to this that the Ithini were speculated to be the first species to fall under Khuladi subjugation. The only other species to possess jump-drives and skip-drives was the Golathoch, who also inherited it from the Free Ithini who’d made contact with them. It was a rare and exceedingly valuable technology, essentially turning the galaxy from an expanse too vast to be traversed into a freeway.

Humans, or Earthae as they were often called, were light years away from this technology, figuratively speaking. They were, for all practical purposes, a proto-civilization, yet to colonize any bodies outside of their homeworld. A species like humanity had no chance of repelling the Khuladi.

From outside the chamber, the sounds of movement emerged. Tauthin raised his head, his vision focusing on the door as he waited for it to open. Once again, the Bakma’s breathing grew heavy. The door whooshed into the ceiling and several silhouettes appeared in the white contour light. Gabralthaar, Ka`vesh…and her.

Svetlana was stripped down to her undergarments, any and all illusions of invulnerability having been removed with prejudice. The shame was important—at least to a zealot like Nagogg. For his authority to be complete, she needed to be humiliated. Dominance began in the mind. But Nagogg hadn’t stopped there.

As Gabralthaar and Ka`vesh led Svetlana in, her face became visible to Tauthin for the first time since she’d been led away. Tauthin had prepared for something horrible. The reality was worse. Red stains of blood splatter surrounded the mutilated pair of cavities that had once been Svetlana’s dainty, upturned nose. Tauthin had never seen a human look like that. Her nostrils were like those of a skull. It was horrifying.

Once again, the blood burned in Tauthin’s veins. This was religion. This was worship. Disfiguring a creature once considered beautiful by her own kind, enforcing their beliefs through the humiliation and mutilation of all who chose not to believe. Nagogg and his kin would boast about this as if they’d accomplished something noble.

Snarling, Tauthin fought to wrench himself free from the clasps, and again, he met futility. He could only watch. Svetlana said nothing as she was floated toward the wall beside Tauthin, turned around, and clasped in place. Her blue eyes were despondent. They almost looked drugged. But Tauthin knew better. It was disbelief. As soon as Svetlana was in place, Gabralthaar and Ka`vesh propelled themselves away. They disappeared through the door just before it closed.

“Setana…” said Tauthin quietly.

She made no outward indication that she’d heard him. She made no outward indication that she was aware of anything at all.

Breathing heavily through his own nostrils, the Bakma enunciated as clearly as he could in the absence of a connection, “Palees saab-mit. It caan gecht waarse.”

Once again, nothing. Svetlana simply hung there, lifeless and limp, hair floating in microgravity before her disfigured face.

“Thaar is no reesistaance, Setana. Thaar is no ree-sun to hoop. Buht yu caan leev in saab-mishun, aas I haaf leeved, saab-mitting buht baa-leefig nuuthig. A Gaad yu canaacht see is nacht waar-thee to be waar-shipped. Ree-moof blind-aars ahn see waat is real. Thaar ees no Gaad herre tu sahv yuu. Saab-mit to saar-vive.”

Svetlana’s eyes rolled back then closed, her head floating weightlessly atop her neck. The loss of bodily control was indicative. She had passed out.

Tauthin’s jaw set. The Bakma captive made no effort to wake her. He made no effort to do anything at all.

For the next several hours, no sounds came from either of them. They simply hung clasped, side-by-side, one conscious, one in and out of consciousness, in the silent microgravity of deep space. On several occasions, Tauthin caught glimpses of miniscule water orbs drifting past the white contour lights, indicative of tears being released in her brief moments of awareness, though the Bakma hadn’t heard Svetlana make them. He knew they were likely from pain.

The only audible sounds at all came from Svetlana’s shivering, the result of having no clothes to trap her body warmth. Though the chamber wasn’t cold, it most certainly wasn’t comfortable. Shame was something Tauthin knew humans weren’t accustomed to—at least, not to the level at which the Bakma knew shame. It was for this reason that he tried his hardest not to look at her, though sometimes he couldn’t help it. He had never seen such an exposed human body. As it would for any sentient creature in an observatory position, curiosity just got to him. Whether Svetlana knew of his observation was an unknown. The blond-haired medic simply hung there, staring down.

Nagogg never returned to the chamber during that span of time, nor were any sounds heard in the halls. There was only the ambient noise of the Noboat’s engine as its fuel cells charged on. Tauthin knew that the charging could take a while—not that it mattered for he or Svetlana.

Waiting was the only thing either of them had to do.

Sunday, March 18
^th
, 0012 NE

0332 hours

Norilsk, Russia

The next morning

INHALING A SHARP breath, Scott opened his eyes.
Where am I?
In front of him and in every direction, there was darkness. It took him a moment to remember he was at
Northern Forge
, the hidden mountain base next to Norilsk.

Sitting up and closing his eyes, Scott stretched his neck to the side until it popped. He’d been in the middle of the craziest dream moments before he’d woken up. Though its fragments were rapidly fading from his memory, it’d had something to do with Svetlana. Except in the dream, she wasn’t Svetlana. It was just strange—as all dreams were. Just the same, he’d have given anything to return to it. To be lost in a strange dream with the woman he loved was still better than the harsh reality he was actually in. Centering his mind on the present, he placed his bare feet on the icy floor with a wince.

What time is it?

A quick glance at his comm display revealed that it was just past three-thirty in the morning. He’d slept for over twelve hours. As his senses slowly returned, he revisited the hours just before he’d dozed off.

The Fourteenth had arrived at
Northern Forge
to the icy welcome of Valentin Lukin, the keeper of the hidden Soviet facility. It was a reception that had somehow managed to be colder than his first arrival at
Novosibirsk
, where Thoor had met him and his comrades in the freezing rain.

David…

Scott remembered that David was in the room with him, or at least he had been when they’d fallen asleep. Everyone in the Fourteenth had paired up in rooms with bunk beds. Scott listened for any signs of life in the bunk above him. There were none. Turning, Scott grabbed hold of the ladder and pulled himself up on his feet, wincing at the pressure that was placed on his injured right thigh. Thankfully, his newly-acquired crutches were nearby. Snagging them blindly in the darkness, he hobbled up to his feet to peer into the top bunk with his slowly adjusting eyes. It was empty. David had already woken up and left somewhere.

A whiff of something caught Scott’s nostrils, causing his face to contort uncomfortably.
God, what is that, sewage?
He realized a moment later that it was himself.
He
stunk like sewage. Or more specifically, he stunk like the Suez Canal. Scott had spent the entire firefight in Krasnoyarsk inside the confines of his fulcrum armor. The stench of the Suez had just festered. “Nasty,” he said under his breath.

Maybe that’s why David left.

Scott was wearing the only set of clothes that he had, which was the same EDEN uniform he’d been wearing when he set out to meet Natalie at
Cairo
before all hell broke loose. That uniform had been soaked with water, sweat, and industrial refuse. He sought out the closet.

God, let there be something here I can wear.

Hanging in the closet was a single white towel, complimented by a pair of white slippers that looked straight out of a hotel. “I guess you’re better than nothing.” At least he had the early morning hours in his favor. He had plenty of time to find something else to wear. Right now, it was shower time. Grabbing the towel and slippers, Scott set out for
Northern Forge
’s bathing facilities.

Much to Scott’s relief, the halls were devoid of activity. No sound came from any of the rooms around him, nor were there any footsteps in the halls. For all practical purposes,
Northern Forge
was a tomb, leaving his trek to the closest shower room one of privacy.