The Witches of Ne'arth (The Star Wizards Trilogy Book 2) (14 page)

“
Enough!
” 

His face registered shock.  She followed his glance to the desk, where her whitened fingers had gouged impressions into the wood.  She covered the craterlets with the blotter.    She arose heavily.  He was as still as death as she approached.  She placed her palm to his forehead and gazed steadily into his eyes.

“Don't lie to me, Kliev.  I will know.”

According to Dathar's service record, he was among the bravest of officers, but nothing had prepared him for
her
in a bad mood
.  And so he broke down and told her the incident with the girl.

“– It was a one time thing, a moment of weakness.  I'd been out on patrol so long without seeing you.  I – I have feelings.  I have needs.  I lost control, but only once, only momentarily, it was a moment of weakness.  I – I think it was because of my thoughts of you that I swooned before anything could transpire.  I did not betray you, Athena.  I swear.  It was a one time thing and nothing happened.  I swear!”

Her heart fluttered, she felt the world crashing.  Or rather, the facade was fallen away and beneath was the same stale, empty world it had always been.  For a time she had deceived herself.  Once again, she had learned there was no such thing as true love.  True love was impossible between man and woman, save for that between Father and Daughter.

How could you
, she thought at the man whom she had believed was capable of loving her.  And what was the attraction to a mere adolescent?  Evolutionary programming could only go so far in explaining male sexual behavior.  Then it seemed that a perverse social conditioning had assumed control of their minds.  To prefer a mere child-whore to
her,
Daughter of The Creator!

When his babbling finally petered away, she replied, “I see.”

To human ears, the only noise in the room was the ticking of the clock.  She heard his quickened pulse as well, and felt the urge to make it stop.  She hadn't, however, missed the implication of the incident.  And that was more important than her feelings. 

For her was all too easy to tuck emotion away and assume a mask of objectivity.  She would not have survived the city if she could not do that.  Even so, this time she felt a little as if she were dying. 

“You fell instantly asleep upon her touch, you say.”

“Why, yes.”  Doubtless having expected an outburst, he sagged with relief at her air of calm.  “It was the damnedest thing.  I wasn't even tired, I'd hardly drank beforehand – and at first touch, I fainted at her feet!  Perhaps the Abbey wine is more potent than reputed to be.  Nothing happened after that, Athena, I swear.”

Not for lack of trying
, she thought.  She averted her eyes as she sank into her chair.  “This incident will have no impact on your service record.”

“As . . . for us?”

“I must think.” 

“Athena, I am so sorry, it was a moment of weakness, I swear, you know how much I love you – “

“I must think.”  She refrained from hurling the chair at him.  “The incident has no impact on your record.  Captain, it is your professionalism that I require now.  The incident as you described it has significant implications for the security of the Republic.  Can I count on you now, at this moment, to put personal feelings aside and perform your duty on a mission of utmost importance?”

Dathar bowed stiffly.

She continued:  “First of all, I am giving you command of
Nemesis
, effective immediately.”

“Athena! 
Thank you!  Thank you!”
 

She took her personal stationery and wrote the orders to Admiralty.  Dathar regarded the envelope as solemnly as an Arthurian knight would have revered the acquiring of Excalibur. 

“I won't let you down, Athena, I swear!”

In his professional capacity, she knew that was true.  She could trust him as much as she could trust any officer in the the Aerial Navy to do his 'duty,' so long as it had to do with regions of his body other than his groin.   

“Now, as to your mission,” she said flatly.  “Take a squad of Marines aboard
Nemesis
and fly directly to Klun in haste.  Do not inform the Abbey of your coming – surprise is of the essence.  When you arrive, your objective is to apprehend the girl.  Capture her if you can, kill her if necessary to prevent escape.”

“The girl?  I'm sorry, which girl are we talking about?”

“The one you described, who put you to sleep.” 

“Kill?  Whatever for?  She's just a trifling girl – “

That didn't stop you from wanting to whore away my love!
  

“I realize it sounds as if I am acting out of jealousy.  I assure you, this is nothing personal.  Quite objectively, she is extremely dangerous and extremely important to the affairs of the Republic.  Believe me when I tell you, she is more of a threat to the security of our nation than Forjvis itself.”

“How is that possible?”

“Let us say the myths of the Church regarding the powers of the Wizard are not entirely without foundation, and at this moment she may have acquired those powers.”

“I see.” 

His expression indicated that he didn't.  She doubted that even Mavan could understand the nature of a neural implant matrix.  At any rate, she didn't need their understanding.  She needed their unquestioned obedience.  That was something that Dathar could be relied upon to provide. 

“You are to obey these instructions to the letter.  When you apprehend her, you must seek at all costs to avoid physical contact between her and any other person.  If she comes into contact with anyone, that person is to be immediately contained as well, and killed if they attempt escape, and the same for anyone who touches their body.”

“Does she carry a plague?”

“In a sense.”

Dathar
murmured, “I touched her.”

“I am confident you were not contaminated at that time.  From here on, however, the rule applies.  Even to you.”

“Can you give me some idea of how – in what way – she can be dangerous?”

“Of course.  I will demonstrate.  Take out your sword.”

“My sword?”

She gestured toward his ceremonial saber.  Apprehensively, he unsheathed it. 

“On the count of three, you are to attempt to decapitate me, with all force and speed.”

“Athena –
what?
”

“I gave you an order. 
Attempt to decapitate me.
”

The blade wobbled in his hands.
  “Athena! 
I understand that you are perhaps distraught –
”

“In case you are wondering, no, I am not suicidal, and I am certainly not asking you to assist in my suicide.  I assure you, I will be unharmed.  I wish purely to demonstrate the extent of the threat you will encounter with the girl.  Now obey – don't hesitate or hold back, no more delay or I'll strip your commission this very moment.” 

Dathar stared, then bowed. 

She continued:  “So, on the count.  One . . . two . . .
three!
”

In what was a blur to normal human vision, he slashed at her neck.  The blade met only air. 
Dathar
stared uncomprehending at the empty seat. 

Standing at his side, Athena whispered into his ear, “That is how fast she can move.”

He stared at where she had been, then nodded, then returned the blade to its sheath.   

She dismissed him coolly.  After he was gone, she opened the top drawer and scanned the obituary she had scheduled for publication in next Friday's edition of the
Victoriana Times. 

Dispatches carry the sad news that in the early hours of yesterday morning, Colonel Kwinsi Asterdon was killed during a surprise attack at the Forjvisian frontier.  Plunging into the thick of battle, the colonel heroically rallied the troops but was fatally downed by a fusillade of artillery fire . . . his last words were heard to be, “Tell my dear wife how deeply I love her!” 

The sniper contract would have to be canceled, the half-payment sacrificed.  Asterdon would continue his doltish charade as loving husband, unaware of how narrowly he had missed his funeral.  As she tore the obituary into pieces, Athena mused that Kwinsi's last words more likely would have been,
“Lords, I need a drink!”
  He was probably saying that now in a local pub.

As for
Dathar
. . . well, she should have known.  Surely his service record was one of courage and initiative, surely he had been charming and stimulating at the social events she had arranged for their mutual attendance and 'chance' meetings, but at bottom he was just a scoundrel like all the other officers who captained the airships of the Imperial Republic.  They had to be scoundrels, to do what they did – to send men to their deaths and bomb villages of innocents, all for no purpose higher than the greed of an oligarchy.

As necessary as such men were now, none of them would be invited into the Human Reservation.  If they were so intent on a code of combat, let them fight against mutants bred for the purpose!

Still . . . Dathar.  She forced away the delusions of a domestic bliss.  There was truly only one man for her, only one man she should care about. 

Father. 

And with that clarity of mind, she thought: 
He will want to know this. 

She sealed the office and ascended the steps to the main passage, so preoccupied with her thoughts that she did not notice the royal entourage until she nearly ran into it.  Guards, servants, guests, and the Queen herself came to an abrupt halt.  Those of the highest order knew who she was, and stared in shock. 

“
POSTURE!
” Athena snapped at the Queen. 

The Queen looked mortified, and immediately straightened. 

Athena stormed onto the street.  She met the glares of the passersby and realized she'd forgotten her hat.  Yes, never mind scandals of imperial corruption and child prostitution – a bare-headed woman roams the streets!  The Reservation, she decided, would not have to be large. 

Nims waited at the curb.  As she climbed into the cab alone, the servant refrained from inquiring about the whereabouts of Asterdon.  She admired his discretion.  If his 'half-sister' performed her duties as well, the Star Child would soon be captive.  Otherwise, Athena would have to make do with back up plans:  a fleet that could span the Barrier, a machine that could span the even greater gap between the world of human sensation and the void to which Father had been exiled.  

“
Zeus
,” she said through the trap door.  Nims snapped the whip with the same harshness as her tone.  

The coach whisked through the streets, for Nims knew not to dally when Athena wanted to visit the Project.  Soon the stone edifices of the downtown were left behind for the meandering suburban routes between suburban enclaves, which transitioned to farm and woods.  Finally the twin monoliths loomed above the trees, and ahead appeared the guard towers and high fences of Project Zeus.

Meeting in her private garage inside the Administration Building, Director Cob shuffled in his white lab coat.  He was a head shorter than her and had to tilt his head back as he blinked up at her behind his wide spectacles.  He coughed nervously and waited for her to speak. 

“I want to talk to him,” she said.

“It will have to be short,” Cob replied.  “The cooling system is down for maintenance.”

She took the lead, moving swiftly despite her high heels.  Cob trotted after, huffing.  They descended into the tunnel network that interconnected the buildings.  They ascended into a large room that was a sea of desks, each with a man hunched over a table with a large magnifying glass on a mechanical arm interposed between him and his work station, where his tools were set to work upon components.  Women pushed carts between the pillars of solder smoke, gathering the circuit cards into stacks. 

Project Zeus was only ten years old, and had no generational memory of Athena, and so she went unnoticed. 

Cob and Athena entered a second chamber as vast as the first yet sparsely populated, filled with rows of humming generators and the towering coils of transformers.  Cob waved and shouted at the workers, who scrambled to the ladders and pulled circuit breakers.  Sparks crackled as power surged to the distribution busses.  Status lights blinked and gauge needles flickered. 

They reached the door to the vault.  Athena twirled the combination dials, entered the cell-like room and sealed the door, leaving Cob outside. 

External noise was muffled and she was all alone.  The indicator lights on the teletype station glowed.  She sat at the keyboard and pondered what to say. 

Before she could write, the printer clattered, striking block letters upon the fan-fold paper at a rate of less than one character per second.  Athena stared breathlessly.  The woman who all but ruled the Attainable World, the immortal whom some suspected to literally be a goddess, had jumped at the noise like an adolescent girl in the ancient popular dramas known as 'horror movies.'