The 13th Star: An Action Adventure Sci-F Apocalyptic Novel (16 page)

“Don’t get too cocky, Coldor. I saw everything from the office.”

“The office is not like the real place.”

Bar waved his hands dismissively. “Let’s do a little summary. What’s up with the gang?”

“Oh, those rats who escaped through your fingers? You’re referring to them, aren’t you?” he mocked. “Well, I don’t think there’s
anything left of them. The last time I heard from them they were on Brisker, but as you know, I made sure to turn some of
the planet upside down, and Levi was flooded with glacier water. So as far as I am concerned, they’re finished.”

“And the Kaiser? What’s with the Kaiser?”

“What do you care what happens to their vehicle?” Coldor didn’t understand. “It’s over and done with. Everything is gone—including
their Kaiser. I’m certain.”

Bar was clearly not satisfied. “I want to make sure that none of them survived.”

“After what I did to them, they can’t breathe any more. Even a miracle couldn’t save them. Honestly, Bar, I’m not worried
about them. You should feel the same.”

***

Moses was not particularly impressive—short and chubby, with a cute round face and an unstable temperament. Zoi had told them
sometimes he was very nervous and decided cases without missing a beat, and sometimes he was all charm without asking for
compensation. No one knew how to anticipate his behavior, which only enhanced his image. In the past, Bonn’s residents flipped
a coin to guess how he’d behave or react on various issues, but his reactions scared the gamblers so badly that even the most
daring and brave among them ceased guessing and just let Moses do what he wanted—if only for fear that they might be the cause
that would shake his peace of mind.

A heavy smell of Sinta greeted them and the room was a huge mess. Alcohol bottles rolled on the floor amid high stacks of
paper. It seemed as if no one really knew what they contained.

A heavy, laden wooden table separated visitors from the back of a chair that hid Moses. Some said they only saw Moses in his
chair, and that he even slept and took care of his needs in the enormous chair.

“I came to say hello,” said Zoi, smiling fearlessly and speaking with great affection. “Since I’m already here, I can’t not
say hello to you.”

The chair didn’t move, but Moses’ voice—deep and cracked due to his use of Sinta—was audible. “I hope it’s you, you fighter
.
I don’t know if you’re exactly missing here, as I stopped hosting clowns like you long ago
,
but I always love to meet you and stick you to the wall.”

Rettoul and Mattoui tensed. Moses’ threatening voice and words led them to freeze a moment in their tracks, but Zoi smiled
even wider.

“I see the bar was renovated a long time ago. It’s been a while since there was proper beating in there, but I’m at your service,
Moses. Just tell me and I’ll make a commotion so the insurance money piles up on your desk.”

The chair revolved slowly and Moses stared into Zoi’s eyes as if he’d known his location among the three in advance. He didn’t
smile; his face was frozen. “You need a lot of stupidity to come here, and more so to come into me personally. On Falcon,
they’ll be pleased to know that you and your friends are alive. They made sure to scatter you separately throughout the galaxy,
yet now you stand here, the magnificent three,” he said in his deep voice.

“We’d greatly appreciate it if you wouldn’t—” tried Rettoul.

“Shh…” Moses dismissed him with his hands. “Tell your handsome, scarred friend to be quiet,” he said to Zoi. “I’m exhausted
from too much information, people, and issues. What do you want?”

“We’re looking for Slaughter,” Zoi said wearily.

“You have no reason to look for Slaughter,” stated Moses. “Slaughter won’t leave you alive. He won’t leave the children with
you alive. Slaughter will sell you in pieces and send you back to Falcon in a variety of matchboxes! You were stupid enough
to come here, cause a commotion in the market, and now you want to get to Slaughter?” He raised his voice and immediately
lowered it. “Don’t worry. Slaughter will find you, you bunch of clueless fools. Of everyone—you’re so stupid! It really doesn’t
suit you. And you, knee-strike man… I’m really surprised.”

“Okay,” said Zoi. “So he’ll get to us.”

“What do you think? Berez beat up his men in the market. There were six, now sixty will come. Give me a break, knee-strike
man. Get out of here now. No insurance money is worth the fuss that this incident will bring to my bar.”

“Before we go, can you tell us a bit about him?” tried Rettoul. “Who is he? Where does he live? Where does he get his money?
What does he look—”

“Too many questions! Not many people have seen him, but those who have say they’ve never met anyone more frightening. In general,
it’s said that anyone who saw his face saw the face of death within moments. No one wants either of those two meetings. Who
is he? No one really knows, but he’s the all-powerful ruler of Moran. We can’t remember what life was like without him because
he’s everywhere.
Nothing
happens here without Slaughter knowing about it. Everything goes through him, and everyone pays a large amount of protection
money. I have no idea what he does with the money we pay him, but Slaughter runs our lives. People who bring him children
receive credit points. We don’t know what happens to them thereafter, but we enjoy a
bit of comfort with each child we deliver. I can’t lie and say it’s not tempting not to sell him all our children, as then
our lives would become more bearable, but most of us have stopped having children, if only because of the fear of Slaughter
and his passion for children.”

“Maybe we should accept your suggestion,” Zoi said. “We’ll move on and doubtless meet him by chance. Thank you, Moses. It’s
always good to see you.” Zoi smiled at him lovingly.

“Shh… Don’t get sentimental. Go and save your lives.”

When they reached the entrance to his room with their backs to Moses, he called out, “Hey, you. Pretty guy with the scar.
Wait a minute.” They froze in place. Zoi turned, slowly followed by Mattoui and Rettoul. Moses approached them, unsmiling,
his eyes fixed on Rettoul. “You—who killed Zoron’s Jorash,” he said. “You eliminated the law enforcement men on Levi,” he
continued without taking his eyes from Rettoul.

Rettoul tensed, not expecting to be recognized so quickly. His breathing became heavy, sure the man would betray them. He
had difficulty swallowing.

“Allow me to shake your hand,” said Moses. “It’s a great privilege to meet you. The knee-strike man always has a place in
my heart, but for you, I’ll give even more. I’m at your service, sir.”

The three were surprised and Rettoul grinned. “Zoi always brings us to his friends. I’m pleased to meet you. We heard nothing
but good about you.”

“Rubbish,” Moses said. “I don’t really trust the knee-strike man, but I’m with you—blindfolded, hands tied, and legs heavy.
I’d be happy to help where I can, if you get away from Slaughter alive…which isn’t certain in the least.”

“I’ll remember your promise, and I’d be pleased to see you again,” said Rettoul. The three went on their way.

***

The wedding preparations were underway. A team of hundreds of prepared the Temple for Zoron’s wedding.

***

They found their place in Ara. Zoi had reserved six rooms but they used only two—the middle ones. In the others they turned
the lights on and tuned the TV or radio to different channels. Berez and Zoi roomed with the children, while Mattoui and Rettoul
had the other room.

“You really miss her, huh?” Rettoul smiled.

“You know,” said Mattoui quietly, “since I can remember, I’ve had one task—to be near you. Rettoul needs me—I’m with him.
Rettoul fights—I’ll help him. Rettoul decides—and I’ll do. Rettoul first—and me second. My friendship for and duty to you
started my morning, continued my day, and went to sleep with me. I had something to live for, to be. Then Tamar came into
my life. Sorry, Rettoul, but her presence made it clear that I had something to lose. She never said a word about the special
relationship between us; she demands nothing of me. Tamar just came into my life and painted it
with additional colors—no more black and white. Tamar’s made life worthwhile, and it has nothing to do Rettoul. Sorry for
changing a bit, but Tamar gives me a future, and with you I only saw the moment. Not that it’s not good, but it’s no longer
enough.

“Tamar, without saying a word, has made me a person in my own right. You aren’t responsible for me following you blindly,
and I’m not complaining about it, but having Tamar in my life made it clear that I also exist in a world without Rettoul—one
of her and me. So it’s not just missing her, it’s the essence of life with Tamar and thanks to Tamar.”

“I know, Mattoui, and I envy the horizon you want to reach. You have no idea how much I welcome the existence of Tamar in
your world. I love you, Mattoui, more than a brother. I have no explanation for or understanding of this special connection
between us, but from the moment Tamar entered your life, you became a different Mattoui—happier, freer. And I’m happy about
it. We’re done with the story and we’ve taken another step toward a return to sanity. I assure you, things will look different
soon.”

He embraced Mattoui at length. “I’ll call aKaiser for you, and you get out of here.”

“What do you mean?” Mattoui tensed.

“We’ll manage alone.” Rettoul winked. “We’re already used to people bigger and more sophisticated than this Slaughter, who
sounds like someone we’re not particularly excited about. You saw his people in the market—they weren’t trained guerrillas.
Just people with weapons and fear in their eyes who survive and are built off their boss’
authority. Their bellies and heavy feet haven’t been treated properly, and any of us can handle them alone. Don’t worry, we’ll
manage.”

Morning dawned. None of the three men had slept properly. They were tense about the meeting, which came almost at once. The
door to one of the empty rooms they’d reserved was broken open abruptly and they rose immediately—Rettoul in his room, Zoi
and Berez in theirs. A minute later, Rettoul’s door was forced open and six people entered in arrow formation—one led, followed
by two and then by three. They were dressed in black, with black masks over their faces, and were wearing black gloves. In
fact, not a scrap of skin was visible, with everything covered. They looked around the room, which appeared empty, like the
one before.

“Damn!” Rettoul heard one of them say.

“They’re somewhere in the other rooms,” another voice said.

“You’re really smart,” said a third voice sarcastically.

The six turned around and stopped in their tracks—Berez and Zoi stood behind them, weapons drawn. They took a step back and
heard Rettoul’s voice. “If you move any further back, you’ll be shot in the back with no hesitation.”

Rettoul couldn’t see their faces, but he knew one glance from Berez would be enough to freeze them. “Well. Now take us Slaughter.”

“It’s impossible,” said one of them. “There’s not enough room for everyone.”

“That’s a relatively small problem,” said Rettoul and he stuck his weapon in one’s back. “You!” The man turned to him, his
whole body shaking with fear. “Bind your friends.”

Rettoul tossed a rope and heavy tape at his feet. This particular tape, when put in contact with the skin, created a sense
of itching and burning. Even years after it was removed, a strong itch remained that neutralized all clarity and thought.

The five were bound and after a few minutes, they tried to stand and anxiously began scratching whatever parts of their bodies
they could reach. It was replaced by hysteria. It seemed they couldn’t break free and didn’t call for help—they were too busy
in their distress.

The Road Star quickly made its way to Slaughter’s base, which was shrouded in a thick fog that seemed artificial. Previously
the road had been clear and then they suddenly flew into a cloud, navigating by instruments only.

On board were dozens of Ingrams and it seemed no one had taken care of them properly. Some were intact and others weren’t.
This warship had seen better days. The lack of maintenance saddened the warriors.

The one man of Slaughter’s who remained free drove the Road Star. Rettoul watched his actions carefully, knowing precisely
what movements and actions were needed. He wanted to be sure the driver wouldn’t make any mistakes that might create another
of Slaughter’s surprises.

They knew they were going into the unknown, but
feared nothing.