TICEES (52 page)

Chelan sniffed back her tears and squared her shoulders. It was time. Turning, she ran silently from the room, not daring to look back.

*****

Chelan moved quickly. She thought momentarily of the consequences of a failed escape but then shoved all possible scenarios from her mind. She would not fail. It was simply not an option. She would take her life with the lazguns before she would endure Ticees again. And that decision was final.

Chelan’s journey to the transport area was unhindered, and her flawless ability to execute the codes for corridor entries would have surprised the Emperor himself. She reached the last door, the one that would allow her access to the hangar. Chelan took a deep breath and flipped the hood of the shroud over her head. Then she used all of Yanis’ training to still her fear and anxiety. She held her breath and punched in the codes. The door opened, and she stepped into the frantic hustle of the transport room. She stayed very still momentarily while she looked about her, sizing up the guards and their positions. She watched as the transports docked and unloaded in one area, while others loaded and then departed from another.

Finally, sure that no one had detected her entrance, she stilled the tremors that threatened to consume her and started toward the area that housed the transport she was seeking. And right where she thought it would be sat her opportunity and Korba’s bid for life. She watched as people began to board the transport, and she hastened forward. Within seconds she was caught up in the small crowd as the guards herded them in. Chelan recognized some of the cleaning staff, and she was careful to keep her face hidden within the blackness of her hood. She could ill afford any trouble at this stage. She was too close to her goal, and everything depended on her arrival in Satanya.

Chelan breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the doors of the transport and quickly found a seat. She closed her eyes, thankful that she had made it on board. At first she was somewhat surprised at the Emperor’s security, or lack of it, but then she remembered that few of the civilian transports departing from the main platforms were meticulously screened. Incoming personal transports and outgoing commercial transports were another matter. But here, she was just an added undetected body, and she was free.

*****

The trip was not long, though Chelan knew that Satanya was on the southern border of the Dead Zone and a long way from the Imperial Palace. She watched as the ship landed on the outskirts of the huge city, and she smiled. The Dead Zone was just east of her, and her walk to it would be unimpeded.

The transport emptied abruptly, and Chelan was left standing in the huge reception area. She followed the hoards out into one of the streets, and the deathly cold hit her, threatening her lungs. Swiftly, she reached into the shroud for the headgear that would protect her airways, at least for the time being. Then she looked up and found the Iceanean sun. She turned to the east and began her trek.

She walked a long time, but no one noticed her. The Imperial uniform was hidden by the black shroud, and her small frame was simply mistaken for that of an adolescent’s.

Chelan finally emerged on the easterly edge of the city, realizing that she had indeed been lucky. Satanya was huge, and the transport had dropped her only about three kilometers from her destination. Now all she had to do was wait. She cursed the Iceaneans for not using watches, relying strictly on their uncanny ability to judge time accurately from the lighting alone. But what she did know was that it was too soon to enter the Dead Zone.

Her eyes scanned the vast wasteland before her, and she smiled. Her final target area was a strange anomaly within the Dead Zone. Her acute vision had picked out the irregular patches of blue-white on a photo that Salizar had given her. He had never noted the irregularities before, and since reconnaissance missions scanned the area regularly and nothing strange had ever been reported, Salizar had determined that it was simply a photographic glitch.

Both of them had shrugged it off at the time, but Chelan had her doubts about his analysis. Maybe it was some sort of intermittent peculiarity that just happened to get picked up this one specific time. Either way, Chelan set the irregular patches as her fantasy destination. They were nearly forty kilometers northeast of where she stood, and she knew precisely which direction to go.

Chelan smiled at herself. She realized she was being unreasonable. It was just a matter of time before she perished either from the cold or from a blast from an Imperial fighter. But it didn’t matter. It was hope that spurred all of mankind on, and it was her hope for the life of her beloved man that gave her the fortitude to do what she was doing.

Chelan squinted against the brilliant glare of the ice fields, her reasons for waiting before entering the Dead Zone finally making their appearance. In the far distance she could see the Imperial fighters come and go silently, streaking across her field of vision within the blink of an eye, and with their passing she was set in motion. The next flyby was in six Iceanean hours, and in six hours she knew she would be dead.

Chelan took a moment to review her decision, recognizing immediately that she had no other alternative. This was Korba’s home, the home of his people, and now she knew for sure what she had always believed: she did not belong. Besides, the ultimate blow she could deliver to Ticees was the death of his seed within her. She realized now just how hard he had worked in an effort to make her his. But that was irrelevant, and his last act had erased all the good that had gone before him. She loathed him, and she hoped that because of the love he said he had for her, her death would burden his mind and heart for all eternity.

Chelan looked down, watching her step on the icy, hard-packed surface, and she shielded her eyes from the intense glare. Her mind traversed back over her ordeal, starting right back at the beginning, and she thought about Manza. She had never met him again after Korba had taken her, and she wondered what had ever happened to him. Korba had never mentioned him, and at the military meeting, the men had teased Tarn about his role in her acquisition, but they had only mentioned Manza in passing. Chelan smiled to herself. Korba probably still had him under lock and key in Stose’s lab.

Chelan took a deep breath, and her lungs burned. Her body was beginning to cramp once again, so she reached inside her shroud and swallowed another pill. She might as well die comfortably, she mused to herself, and she almost giggled.

Time passed, and then Chelan surprised herself by thinking of Marri. She wondered if, after Korba healed, he would Let her. Chelan suddenly felt warm inside. She hoped he would. He at least deserved some happiness and female companionship. Chelan was well aware of how deeply Marri loved him, and she knew that Marri would take good care of him, both on and off the battlefield.

Time dragged on as Chelan pushed forward, and her mind continued to sift back over the years. She was surprised that most of her thoughts centered around RIBUS 7 rather than her family and Earth. She figured that was because of the momentous impact the whole affair had had on her. She also realized that her parents and family had already gone through the mourning process over her loss. But that was still to come for Korba, and she could already feel his misery.

Chelan glanced back at the city, now only a speck in the distance. Then she closed her eyes. There was no point opening them again as the brilliance was beginning to blind her. She estimated that she had been walking for about four hours now, but her pace was slowing, and her hands and feet were numb. Her muscles were sluggish, and her thighs burned with her exertion. Her lungs heaved as the icy air ripped through them, and the taste of blood in her mouth nearly gagged her.

Another hour passed, and she once again turned to glance at the city, but it was gone. Her heart stopped, and her eyes grew large. She watched the massive wall of churning white consuming the area that had once been Satanya. No wonder there had been so many transports being moved so frantically. It was one of Iceanea’s notorious and deadly storms, and it was headed straight for her.

Chelan slumped to the ground, instantaneously hit with insurmountable sorrow and regret. Somehow, deep down, she had hoped she would survive. The fact that she had brought food and weapons was a testament to that. But now she was forced to confront her inevitable death, and suddenly she wanted out. She wanted Korba. She wanted his love, to feel his arms around her. She wanted to spend an eternity with him, but now she had but a few moments to spend with only memories of him.

Chelan rocked herself as the first harsh winds began to buffet her. It was like a tidal wave, looming for kilometers up into the beautiful blue sky. Chelan hugged her knees and laid her head down as she began to weep. She had told Korba she would never see him again, and now she knew that was true.

Thoughts of Fremma and Dar passed through her mind, and she cried out for them. She had never had the opportunity to say good-bye to her gentle Fremma, and she had passed up love for war with Korba. Her only bright spot in the whole ordeal was the fact that she had finally come to love Dar fully, experiencing all that he could give her in their final hours together. Chelan wanted so badly to apologize to them all for her shortcomings and the hardships she had caused, and most of all, she wanted to love each of them at least one more time, but it was not to be.

Suddenly, she was hit with the brute savagery of the front, and it blew her across the ground with hurricane-force winds biting into her as it bounced her along its path like so much fluff. Chelan instinctively coiled into a ball, but with each impact her body weakened, and she could feel herself breaking.

Then she was airborne, and she closed her eyes tight, hugging herself for what seemed forever. Then she hit the ground hard, and she was forced to release her knees, the violence of the impact stunning her. A heavy plume of snow and ice descended upon her, smothering her temporarily. Chelan gasped for air just as she became airborne once again; the winds carried her as if she were nothing but tissue. Then her battered body struck the ground one last time. She heard a loud crack, and all her senses instantly became numb. She tried to take in a breath, but there was no air. She felt a falling sensation as her frame twisted through space, contorting to powers not her own. And then her small world went black, her broken body swallowed by the alien planet. There her lonely soul came to rest, so very far from home, and so terribly far from the men who loved her.

Ticees had spent the entire night walking the vast perimeter of the fortress walls, his mind and body drained. As morning descended, he sat looking out toward the Dead Zone, wishing he had the guts to end his miserable life. He had hurt the fragile, innocent, precious being, and he deserved no less. He had tried to possess her out of selfishness and greed, spurred on by jealously and unrestrained, wanton desire. He had lost control in the most despicable of ways, and now he questioned his judgment not only as a man, but as a ruler.

Morning approached afternoon, and he was finally tracked down by one of his guardsmen. “The storm will be here in one hour, my Lord. You should seek shelter.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. His eyes looked out over the vast desolation. “Send out the last reconnaissance mission now,” he ordered. “They will be able to make it back before the storm hits.”

“Yes, my Lord,” replied the young man, and he left.

Ticees knew that he had no choice but to return to his chambers, but his steps were heavy. It was time to make what repairs he could to the damage that he’d done. He entered his room and noted that his bed was empty. Slowly he approached it, and then sat down wearily. Had he really thought he might find her still here? He smiled wryly. If she never approached him again he would not be surprised. He hung his head and tried to think.

Suddenly, he jumped to his feet. His first task was to find Chelan. She had resisted the drug and he had to find out what, if anything, she remembered. If he were fortunate beyond his wildest dreams, she would remember nothing. But if she remembered anything, anything at all, then he had more problems on his hands than simply trying to console her for his boorish behavior and his ultimatum.

He searched Korba’s quarters, but she was nowhere to be found. The longer he hunted, the more he feared she had gone to seek help. And what if she had gone to Stose? He knew he had bruised her, and she had hit her head hard. Then his blood thickened. He ran his hands through his hair and attempted to calm himself. Even if she went to Stose only for her head, too many questions would be raised. If the doctor saw the bruises on her legs, that would be catastrophic.

Ticees stopped and bound his scattering thoughts. If she knew he was more than capable and willing to dispose of Korba for her, surely she would not jeopardize Stose by going to him. Surely she would understand that he would stop at nothing to erase any trail that implicated him in any wrongdoing. And since she was well enough to flee, that meant her head injury was not severe.