Havoc (33 page)

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Authors: Linda Gayle

BOOK: Havoc
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There's no black like the black of space; nothing so silent except the grave. They might as well have been in a floating casket, he thought grimly. Absolute darkness engulfed them as if they'd be dropped down a well. He grabbed a hand light from the side of his chair and felt his way back to Sayal, who still knelt beside Kels.

"Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, eyes wide in the amber glow of the hand light.

"Kels?"

"He's badly injured,” she said. “But I think I've stabilized him.” Her voice shook. He went to her and slid his hand over her head. He shone the light across Kels's face and bloodied body, crushing down the sorrow that wanted to overwhelm him.

"We're going to be boarded,” he said, forcing his gaze to Sayal's face. “It's your Prime. He's found us."

She pushed to her feet. “Sorush. Are you sure?"

"Unless it's some other Prime.” He lifted a stiff shoulder. “It's definitely one of their ships out there. He's hit us with a PD, a pulse disruptor. The ship's dead for the moment."

She shook her head, and he could predict her thoughts, her self-blame, her fear. But she surprised him by saying, “I will kill him.” She balled her small hands into fists. “I will kill him for this."

"That would be fine with me.” He'd like a crack at the Prime too. He put his hand on her shoulder and felt her shaking. “But let's take this one step at a time. The ship's not completely dead, but if I try to take off now, Sorush'll just send more PDs after us. Let's see if we can ride this out, use our heads.” Squeezing her shoulder, he said, “It's not like we have much choice at this point anyhow."

She nodded and leaned into him, and he looped his arm around her. “What about Kels?” she asked.

He didn't know. “I imagine they'll take him too.” He stopped his mind from racing ahead to the grim possibilities that lay before them, forced it into the calm, military mode in which it had been trained since he was a very young child. “In the time we have, Sayal, you need to tell me everything you can about Sorush's ship. Crew, layout, defenses, weaknesses. You said you knew a way to override the system."

The speed with which she gathered her wits and got down to business impressed him. They had only a few moments before the massive liner overshadowed them and drag poles emerged to pull them into its maw. But Elion thought it might be time enough.

The voice that echoed through the ship's walls telling them to prepare for boarding was mechanical, but when the ramp lowered, Sayal recognized her tutor, Asheni, dressed in the deep purple robes that marked him as a scholar. Elion stood beside her, hands laced and palms up on his head as instructed. On her other side, strapped to a movable pallet, lay Kels, still unconscious. The Prime's technology could heal him easily. Unfortunately it was more likely the high alien would kill him. Cold hatred burned away all other emotion. She needed only to get close enough to touch Sorush...

Yet when Asheni walked up the ramp into the ship, Sayal's resolve stuttered. He'd never been cruel to her—her teacher. She would have to kill him too perhaps. She began to lower her hands, but he shook his head. In the months since she'd been away, she'd forgotten how eerily perfect the Primes were. Asheni, ancient even by Prime standards, stood erect and well over two meters tall. Hairless except for thin, arched eyebrows, he seemed untouched by time. His skin, more gold than bronze like hers, unlined and taut across arching cheekbones, shone with a faint iridescence. His large, wide-set aqua blue eyes shone with great wisdom and compassion. He was so unlike Sorush in this. He was the closest to a friend Sayal had ever known before she'd escaped.

"Sayal.” His voice rumbled through her, familiar and not unloved. She threw herself to her knees and prostrated herself before him.

"Asheni. I beg you, let my friends go."

"Sayal, get up,” Elion hissed. His shock and anger arrowed through their bond. He couldn't understand. This might be their only chance since Sorush would certainly show no mercy.

Gently, Asheni lifted her and closed his hands over her shoulders. “You know I cannot. And yet I also know what they are to you.” He moved toward Kels and laid a hand on his chest.

Sayal came beside him. “He was wounded by Sorush's drones."

"Yes.” He drew away and studied her. “I'm aware of your affection for these men. It was I who followed you. I tracked you to Aleut Station.” He glanced at Elion, who radiated hatred like a caged bastion tiger. “These men are bound to you. Sorush will be pleased."

"Then...you knew where I'd gone?” As if she didn't feel enough of a naive fool. “You're saying you let me leave?"

"Of course. Sorush predicted both your leaving and your returning. He's expecting you now in the garden."

"It might not be true, Sayal,” Elion said. “They're mind fucking you."

Asheni shook his head. “I assure you, I'm not
mind fucking
anyone.” He echoed the words with great distaste. “We're over a thousand years old individually, and as a race, we're millions of years older than modern humans. The simple truth is, yours is a young and highly predictable species.” He turned back to Sayal. “You needed to be among them to develop your emotional maturity. And I see you have. Passion. Anger. Hatred. Even love. Yes, Sorush will be very satisfied."

She swallowed, not sure what to say. “Will you heal Kels?"

"Sorush will decide."

Sayal laid her hands over Kels's arm and put all her heart into her gaze. “Please, Asheni. Until he decides, will you at least help him?"

She hoped her old tutor could still be swayed. How many endless hours had they spent walking in the gardens, talking, debating, playing games of logic and strategy. Often she'd been able to coax him into letting her have one more piece of ripe fruit or to pick a precious flower through gentle pleading. While stern about her studies, he'd been an indulgent companion. She couldn't believe she was the only one who had grown attached.

Asheni softened at last. He tipped his head and sighed. “That would be acceptable."

She smiled, though it was the last thing she felt like doing. “Thank you.” She took Asheni's hand and pressed her forehead to the back of it like the good supplicant she'd been raised to be. She could almost feel the collar tightening around her neck again. It was supposed to be an honor. Any Dawn Goddess would have sacrificed her right arm to wear it, but Sayal had hated it from the first day Sorush had presented it to her. To think that might be her fate again... Yet if it meant saving Kels and Elion, of course she would do it.

The Prime turned to Elion. “You may put your hands down, but understand that attacking me or Sorush is not only a waste of time, it would result in very serious consequences for both you and your friend.” He spoke condescendingly, which he usually did. Sayal had just never noticed until now, but clearly Elion noticed, for he bristled. He was smart enough not to voice his opinion, though. She worried for his wounds as well. They'd had time to clean him up a little and give him a shot of Dimextrin, but he needed more healing than that.

Asheni led the way down the ramp into the heart of the ship. The once-familiar perfume of crushed grass and warm, moist soil enveloped them. For all the naively happy years she'd spent here, Sayal mourned. She watched Elion's reaction and wasn't disappointed. His eyes widened, and he turned as he walked to take it all in. Very few humans had ever been inside a Prime transport. They were unlike any other ships in the SenVerse, for they were not only semisentient but ancient.

Deep green vines as thick as wrists with huge, heart-shaped leaves trailed over walls a hundred meters high, dense enough that the original material disappeared entirely. The vines bloomed with flowers of crimson and gold half a meter across. They soared to a ceiling foggy with humid air. The flooring was soft loam gathered from thousands of planets, blended to support plant life from many galaxies. And this was only the cargo bay...

Asheni summoned mechanized servants to take Kels to the healing room. Overcome with regret and sorrow, Sayal grasped his cold hands crossed over his chest. There was a very real possibility she'd never see him again. She took a last look at his beloved face and pressed a kiss to his still lips. Elion would want to do the same, but he stood rigidly, not even looking at his friend. His heart had to be breaking.

Once Kels was carried off, she and Elion followed Asheni into a lift, one of the few places on the ship not crawling with vegetation. Behind her tutor's back, Sayal reached for Elion's hand. He took hers and searched her face. How many questions he must have. She wished she could answer them. She squeezed his fingers, then let his hand drop when the lift came to a stop and Asheni turned to them.

"Sorush is in the garden,” Asheni said. Before the door opened, he stopped it. Something altered subtly in his placid expression.

Sayal stilled. “What is it, Asheni? Something troubles you."

Thick lashes closed over the aqua eyes; then he looked at her, and she saw some of the old affection there, along with deep concern. In a low voice, he said, “Your value to Sorush is as a breeder. He doesn't see the brilliant child you were or the beautiful female you've become.” He touched her face with his fingertips. “You are the result of a thousand years of diligent scientific research. Yet you are also a living being with hopes, dreams, sorrows...” His mouth twitched, and his hand fell away. “I am tied between my loyalty to Sorush and my loyalty to the philosophy of sentient life."

"She's more important than any science experiment,” Elion cut in hotly. “You have to help her."

"I cannot.” Frustration crossed her tutor's perfect brow. “All I can do is advise you to cooperate with him. If you can indulge him, he may let your friends live. They're nothing to him. They've served their purpose. He might be satisfied to wipe their minds and release them."

"Wipe our—"

She held up her hand to silence Elion. “Is there no other way?"

He shook his head. “He's been attempting to clone you. It hasn't been going well. The parapsychic traits don't carry over genetically. We're not sure why."

"An empath must have a living mother,” Sayal repeated by rote. She'd had long hours of biology study under Asheni's guidance.

"He needs you,” Asheni said. “Your genes. You may not believe me, Sayal, but I do regret that this is your fate."

"I do believe you."

"If you don't agree with what Sorush is doing,” Elion said, “why don't you stand up to him? Take him down?"

Asheni pressed his fingertips together. “He's an elite Prime. It's forbidden."

"Asheni is beta Prime,” Sayal explained. “One step below an elite, but theirs is a highly stratified society. Beta Primes are born to serve the elites. It's more than a role. It's in their very genes. He can do nothing else.” And she did appreciate what he'd told her. He'd given her a sliver of hope for Elion and Kels. Even that must have gone somewhat against his ingrained bond of obedience.

"He'll grow suspicious if we linger,” Asheni said. “Come."

As they stepped out of the lift, Sayal took Elion's hand again, uncaring who saw. It occurred to her that he'd be one of the few pure humans to see an elite Prime in the flesh. A select number of Dawn Goddesses were allowed to service them sexually, but then they swore a vow of silence. Though she was grateful she'd never witnessed it, Sayal knew that by tradition, Dawn Goddesses sacrificed their eyes after seeing the Prime, so that the image of his magnificence would forever be the final one impressed upon their minds.

As a sacred female, her mother had been spared, as had she. Elion would not be in danger since he was neither a Dawn Goddess nor likely to leave the ship with the image still in his head. It would either be wiped or... No, she couldn't let her thoughts travel that dark path.

Despite the terrible situation, she wondered what Elion's reaction might be. She knew Sorush had shown little of himself and altered his appearance digitally when he fucked her in front of the armada generals. Even when the wars had begun, it had been beta Primes who negotiated the dealings between Earth and the allies. Elion might well be the first man, at least, to see an elite Prime in person since the dawn of humanity.

As it was, he seemed overwhelmed by the beauty that surrounded them. Sayal couldn't help but glance aside at Asheni, who also clearly noticed Elion's bewilderment and appeared pleased, as was she. The garden was her favorite level of the ship.

"Do you like it?” she whispered to Elion.

"Saints... I've never seen such...life."

All around them, great, thick-trunked trees draped with lacy sheaves of gray-green moss stretched to a ceiling even higher than that in the cargo bay. Flying creatures from many planets flitted and soared through the canopy, their wild, sweet cries resounding in the massive space. The floor soil was dense, lichen covered, littered with leaves that continued to fall in a rainbow array around their heads. Flowers of every size and color bloomed on either side of their path, and the air was redolent with primitive perfume.

"Many of these plants came from your Earth,” Asheni explained, ever the teacher.

"I've never been,” Elion said, craning his neck to catch everything. “I've read about it, though. Amazing..."

It would take a lifetime or more to know every corner of the garden. Sayal pressed her fingers over her smile, enjoying his astonishment. But her smile faded when she saw movement at the end of the path. Sorush. They approached, and Asheni dropped his chin in a respectful bow.

Elion abruptly startled, and his eyes nearly fell out his head when he saw Sorush. Well, the reaction was what she'd expected. “Saints below,” he muttered. “No one ever mentioned the fucking wings."

Smiling drily, Sorush flexed his massive pinions so that the shimmering black and gold feathers spread behind him in an impressive display. Out of long habit, and because even after all these years, the Prime intimidated her, Sayal folded to her knees and pressed her forehead to the ground, thumbs and forefingers touching to form a flat triangle in front of her on the soil.

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