Starfist: Lazarus Rising (35 page)

I ask you only to understand that I do not make such decisions lightly, and as I am only human, I make mistakes sometimes."

Comfort saw de Tomas's face soften as he spoke and his eyes fill with tears. "I have done things others think were terrible, that's true, Miss Brattle. But I exist only to serve the people of Kingdom, and everything I have ever done was done to that end." He looked down at his plate and toyed with the meat, moving the slices about with his fork. Then he looked up at Comfort. "You haven't touched your wine!"

Comfort looked at the sharp paring knife lying beside the fruit. She saw herself in her mind plunging the blade into de Tomas's throat, the blood spurting. Revenge, she knew, was not a Christian thing, but this one time she would act contrary to God's law. She knew she could do it! Her right hand moved involuntarily toward the fruit.
No, not now,
she told herself,
wait. The time will come.
Her heart raced as she thought of Judith and Holofernes. With her own two hands, like Judith in the Old Testament story she knew so well, she would cut off this monster's head. "Uh, no, sir," she stuttered. "May I have some water?"

De Tomas nodded affably and poured water from a carafe. "I understand you actually bit off your barracks chief's ear," he said. "Tell me about that." Comfort was no longer surprised that everyone seemed to know the story.

"Well, I didn't actually bite her ear off," she replied, and briefly told him what had happened that night.

De Tomas smiled broadly and nodded. Comfort realized he was enjoying these stories and admired her for what she'd done. It dawned on her, then, that this man was going to choose her as his consort. Good! She would perform any perversion to compromise this monster! She tried to look coy and admiring.

"I want someone I can
talk
to, someone to keep me company in the quiet hours of the night, someone I can rely on body and soul, Miss Brattle. I do not want a whore or a mistress, do you understand? I want a
companion
. I selected you for this interview because you are a fighter, you have spirit, you speak plainly—I know that now—and you are comely. I won't deny that you are attractive. In time, perhaps we can lift the veil between us, who knows?"

"Thank you, sir. I would be honored to pierce that veil."

"I will let you know my decision in due course, Miss Brattle." De Tomas stood.

"You will go back under escort to Castle Hurse." He bowed and walked out of the room, leaving Comfort to wonder what her fate would be.

But de Tomas had already decided that.

"My leader, that one's a viper," Herten Gorman warned.

"I know. Did you see her eyeing that knife?" De Tomas laughed.

"I'd best warn you to keep sharp instruments away from her," Gorman said.

"She's the one, Herten," de Tomas said enthusiastically. "Let her sit around Castle Hurse for a day or two, then haul her back up here. Yes, yes, yes! Good work, Herten! She's just the type I want."

"Yes, my leader!" Gorman was excited at the prospect of Comfort alone with de Tomas. First, it meant that Gelli was off the hook as a possible candidate; better still, Gorman had no doubt this violent young woman would cut de Tomas's throat at the first opportunity and save him the trouble.

"Oh, Herten, call off the search. And as for the other candidates, execute them.

They're nice girls, but get rid of them."

"Yes, my leader."

"In time, Herten, I'll bring her around. In time, I'll fuck her good."

Yes, Herten Gorman thought, and in time, she'll fuck you good.

Barracks Chief Patti's eyes fairly bulged out of their sockets when she saw Comfort. "Well, 9639," she shouted, tapping her truncheon against a calf, "you smell like a whore, you look like a whore, so you must be one." Comfort had arrived after evening roll call, as the prisoners trooped back listlessly from their evening meal.

"Look at her, girls," Patti shouted. "All dolled up! You thought you were somebody special, getting out of here, huh? But you're back now, aren't you? And you're
mine
now, you little bitch!"

Patti was vastly disappointed Comfort had not been executed. Her mangled earlobe was a constant and painful reminder that Comfort had defied her and gotten away with it. It also meant that Comfort was now a possible rival for barracks chief.

When Comfort was called away, she'd breathed a sigh of relief. Now...

The other women stared at Comfort in disbelief. Never before, even in the memory of the prisoners who'd been at Castle Hurse the longest, had another prisoner ever been treated so generously. Some of the women had had illicit affairs with the guards and other staff members, gotten themselves choice work assignments thereby, but no prisoner had actually made it outside the prison walls to return in such a glorious state.

Patti abruptly lunged forward, grabbed the front of Comfort's dress, and ripped it half off. "Get into your prison rags!" she yelled.

"Leave me alone!" Comfort yelled back. She saw the truncheon coming and hunched over in time to take it on her shoulders. Still, Patti was a big woman and she put all her weight behind the blow. Comfort collapsed to her knees. The next blow struck her in the kidneys, sending her sprawling. Patti jumped on her back and began banging her head on the floor. The last thing that went through Comfort's mind before she lost consciousness was that the other women did nothing to help her.

CHAPTER 25

It started to rain on the morning of the second day, making travel very slow and tedious that night. Bass considered that a good thing, however, because the storm gave them additional cover and the assurance that patrols would not be out in the bad weather. But they became more and more miserable as they slogged along. Bass called a halt early so they could get under some cover and avoid hypothermia. "If I'd known it would be this bad," he told Zechariah, "I'd have joined the Marines!"

They found a deep ravine on one side of the highway and camped in some trees high up on the slope to avoid the runoff along the bottom. It was the best cover he could find in the dark and the rain.

It was Colleen who gave their position away. She awoke from a fitful sleep long after daybreak with a powerful demand to relieve herself. Not wanting to bother the others, she eased out from under her ground sheet and quietly worked her way toward the rim of the gorge. Without thinking, she stepped out onto the shoulder of the road. Not fifty meters away Raipur's old platoon was forted up for the night.

They never knew they were there and probably would not have discovered them if it hadn't been for Colleen's carelessness. She froze. A few meters away, just on the other side of the road, Lieutenant Ben Loman stood, calmly relieving himself. His eyes went wide with surprise and his mouth formed into a small black circle as he stood there dumbly holding onto himself.

Colleen scuttled back down into the gorge. Behind her, Loman was shouting, but in the wind she couldn't make out the words. She didn't have to because seconds later the lieutenant appeared over the rim of the gorge, weapon in hand, followed by his men in various states of disarray, but all armed.

"Halt!" he screamed, leveling his weapon at her. Colleen stopped, turned around and held up her arms. "Don't move!" Loman yelled. "Get up here!" he shouted, contradicting himself.

"You want me to stay here or come up there?" Colleen hollered back.

"Come up here! Keep your hands where I can see them!"

Chet emerged from the bushes, causing Loman to scream even louder. He raised his hands and came to stand beside Colleen. Raipur emerged from the dripping foliage next. Loman gasped.
"You!"
he screamed.

"Good morning, Acolyte," Raipur smiled, raising his hands slowly.

"Gentlemen," Bass said from the roadway behind the small group, "there is no need for those drawn weapons." He had doubled back down the ravine and come up behind Ben Loman and his men. They whirled in astonishment. Bass stood there, his shot rifle casually slung barrel down over one shoulder, a fierce grin on his face.

"If we were a threat to you, you'd all be dead now," he said calmly.

Ben Loman glanced fearfully at the four people standing on the slope below him and then back at Bass.
"Who are you?"
he shouted at Bass. Loman's men had lowered their own weapons and stood about their lieutenant nervously, not sure what to do.

"I am Charles Bass of the Confederation embassy in International City, and these people are refugees. I am accompanying them back to the city of Haven. And who are you, sir?" It was a small, inspired lie but one Bass could live with.

"I-I-I'm supposed to be asking the questions here! And—And, what are
you
doing out here?"

"I was captured by the devils but I escaped. Well, I told you who I am. Now you tell me who you are."

"I'm First Aco—
Lieutenant
Ben Loman," Loman stuttered.

"He's commander of the first platoon of the Recon Company of the Second Regiment, my old outfit," Raipur said, stepping up onto the shoulder of the road.

"How you doing, Lieutenant?"

Several of the enlisted men standing around nodded affably at Raipur.

"We thought you were dead!" one of them said.

"Good to see you again, Sword," another volunteered.

"This man is a
deserter
!" Loman shouted, pointing at Raipur.

"No, he is not, Lieutenant," Bass said. "Now, I want you to take us to your company commander. I have important information for your commanding general and the Confederation ambassador."

"I will do no such thing!"
Loman shouted. "You are my prisoners! Drop your arms! If you resist I will have you all shot!"

"Like you did those villagers, Lieutenant?" Raipur asked mildly. He made no move to divest himself of his weapon.

"Drop your weapons! All of you! Did your hear me?" Loman screamed. "Seize them!" he ordered his men, but none of them made a move.

"He's our sword," one of the men admonished Loman, nodding in Raipur's direction. "What happened, Sword?" He meant during the attack on the New Salem defenses.

"Moron over there put a round into my engine and I lost my gunner and my driver," Raipur answered, nodding at the man who had commanded the second reconnaissance car. It was a small distortion, but just then the literal truth about what had happened that night at New Salem would not have benefited him or his companions.

"Hey, Sword! We were shooting at the demons! That round was just too low!" the commander of the second car protested.

"Silence!"
Loman shouted. "Arrest these people!"

Bass stepped closer to Loman. "Did you hear me, Lieutenant? I require your assistance to get to the city of Haven. Will you give me your cooperation?"

"No! Now you see here, Mr. Whatsyourname—"

Bass's uppercut struck Loman just under the tip of his jaw so hard that everyone could hear the officer's teeth slam together with a loud
crack!
His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed like a wet sack to the ground.

Suddenly, Bass was almost overcome with a rush of déjà vu. He had fought like this once before! In that Elneal place, a desert somewhere, he and another man. They had fought with knives. The memory flooded his consciousness. It had been hot, and they'd gone to the ground, and the other man had cut him but he had—he had
killed
his opponent! Bass could remember plunging the knife into the other man's—

"Charles? Are you all right?" Zechariah asked.

"Uh?" Bass returned to the present. "Oh, yes, yes. I'm fine." he protested. The men of the first platoon were looking at him in shocked silence for striking the lieutenant. Then one of them laughed. "Not very respectful," Bass chided.

"Well, Charles, he's a prize asshole," Raipur said.

Bass just nodded. "I think I may have run across one or two of those in my time.

Now men," Bass said, flexing his fist, "you police up your lieutenant and stow him in one of your vehicles. When I see your commanding general I'll get citations for all of you. Now, Sergeant Raipur. You take command. I believe you are the senior ranking man here now? And in the immortal words of someone famous, ‘Take me to your leader.’"

"You assaulted one of my officers," Captain Dieter said, but it was not an accusation, just a statement of fact. He had sized Bass up immediately upon his entry into his command post: a man of authority, a man used to exercising that authority and accustomed to being obeyed.

"Well, he gave me a ration of shit, Skipper. I must see the Confederation ambassador. I asked him for his help, he refused, I had to take direct action. I apologize."

Skipper?
Where had he heard that term before? Dieter wondered. He gestured that Bass should be seated. "Mr. Bass, may I inquire as to the nature of your mission?"

"Yessir. Your Special Group men—I believe that's what they're called—assaulted the village these people—the people who came with me—lived in, and kidnapped a certain young lady, after killing many harmless people. I am going to report this incident to the Confederation ambassador, get that young woman back, and punish the men responsible." He then went on to explain how the assault on New Salem took place, starting with Ben Loman's ill-fated probe. "I am sorry about your men, but they attacked us for no reason, Captain. We had to defend ourselves."

Dieter nodded. "How does Raipur fit into this mission you're on now?"

"Captain, he's a damned good man, a fine NCO. I'd like to ask you to let him come with us. I think I'll be able to use him."

"I never believed Ben Loman's report that he'd run up against demons. And those Special Group people? They aren't ‘mine,’ Mr. Bass. And anything you can do to bring those
bastards
to justice, I'll help you any way I can. I am going to give Raipur the first platoon and get him commissioned, but yes, sir, he's on loan to you as of right now." He stood and extended his hand. "You're going up against some ruthless men."