Van Laven Chronicles (28 page)

CHAPTER 54

Vaush glanced at her wrist chronometer. Comron had been gone for nearly an hour trying to discreetly acquire an interplanetary transport ship. Nacum had provided Comron with some native garb to help him blend in with the weary drabness of Monteras’ working-class.

Before he left, Vaush had clung fiercely to him, too afraid to let him go. But with his usual confident air, he told her not to worry and that he would return before she knew it. He’d left her with a rifle and brief instructions on how to operate the sled in case of an emergency.

She looked over her shoulder at the large storage area in the back of the vehicle. More junk and clutter filled the space. There was another seat bench bolted to the floor amidst the garbage. My lovely throne, she thought. How appropriate.

She looked at her chronometer once more before lifting her eyes to the horizon, and was alarmed to see two figures in the distance. Immediately, she discerned that neither was Comron.

They’ve found us!

Her heart thumped loudly in her ears. Comron should’ve returned by now. Had he been captured? With no means of communication, she was at a total loss. Remembering Comron’s instructions, she fired the engine. She shifted the gear and the motor-sled started to roll away, but the engines stalled and shut off.

“No, come on,” she exclaimed. She tried the ignition again and again to no avail. “Don’t do this to me. Come on!”

Vaush hazarded another look out the window. The figures were running toward her and had closed half the distance. An awful dread enveloped her. They would be upon her within minutes. The engine still refused to cooperate.

“Damn it!” She considered abandoning the vehicle, but knew they’d capture her instantly, moving at those speeds.

She slapped the door lock mechanism, then snatched the assault rifle off the floor. Hopping over the front seats, she hid behind the second bench in the back of the motor sled. After one minute passed, her nerves forced her to take one more look out the window.

Their faces were at the glass looking in.

Vaush gasped and stumbled backward, trembling as she removed the safety and applied her finger to the trigger. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the loud thump, thump on the door.

“Honored Lady of Ti-Laros, we wish to speak with you.”

Vaush gripped the rifle tighter and aimed. She would let it do all of her talking.

The stranger’s voice was vaguely feminine, though Vaush had difficulty placing the unusual accent.

“Please, Your Highness. There is not much time.”

She wondered at their cordial tone and why they hadn’t simply forced their entry. Holding her silence, Vaush waited.

“Forgive us, Honored One, but you leave us no choice.”

Honored One? Was that sarcasm? Vaush braced herself for the worst. But there was only silence. Slowly, she rose and was shocked to find the two standing in the cabin, their heads bent under the low ceiling. A quick glance at the doors told her they’d not been forced. Furthermore, the intruders carried no weapons. Nevertheless, she kept her weapon trained on them, carefully eyeing the two tall hooded figures.

“We mean you no harm,” said one, holding out empty hands.

Though she sensed no falsehood, she kept her weapon trained.

“We have a message for you, Supreme Princess, Vaush Hrollaugr,” the woman said in her strange accent.

“A message from whom?” she demanded. Were they mocking her with the exalted titles?

“Our message is from the Murkudahl Consortium,” the stranger announced. In unison, they slipped back their hoods, revealing their identity.

The Murkudahl!

Visibly agog, Vaush stared unabashedly at their angular faces with dark, almond-shaped eyes, their pale blue skin, narrow noses and pinched mouths. Her attention was instantly drawn to the shock of fiery red hair flowing down their backs. Their slender frames stood over two meters tall, but the speaker was of slightly smaller stature.

“I am H’Teysa Chaiyse of Wiskelle.” She made a gesture, moving her hand up from her waist to her brow and bowed, then turned to her partner. “And this is H’Teysa Bhedrus of Wiskelle.” He greeted Vaush in like manner. Though Vaush had no idea as to their rank or social standing, she had the distinct sense that she was in the presence of Murkudahl nobility.

Instinctively, Vaush imitated their gesture and said, “I am deeply honored by your visit. To what do I owe this privilege?”

The speaker blinked her eyes and tilted her head as if listening to something. Vaush recalled an article on the Murkudahl physiology in which it was strongly asserted that the Murkudahl communicated telepathically. Her eyes darted between the two of them, looking for further signs of telepathic communication.

“The Murkudahl know that you, Vaush Hrollaugr, are the legitimate heir to the throne of the Sellusion Empire. We are also aware of your convictions surrounding the protection of our people.”

“It pleases me that you know this,” Vaush said, relieved that they knew she didn’t share the desire of those who sought to exploit the Murkudahl.

“You are of great interest to the Murkudahl, Your Grace. We have been observing you all of your life. Bhedrus and I have been assigned to physically follow you, since your time on Patheis.”

“Since Patheis…you were there?” Vaush said in surprise. “You were the hooded figures Comron glimpsed that morning.”

They both nodded.

“He’ll be glad to know it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him.” Vaush chuckled and cocked her head to the side. “A little help with the crogodans would’ve been nice.”

“We were under strict orders from our brethren to remain out of sight until now,” Chaiyse explained. “Yet we managed, in our own small ways, to keep you alive.”

“So that I may become Empress and enforce the Edict.”

“Yes.”

Vaush sighed. “I wish it were that simple. The politics surrounding my enthronement are rather complicated. To be frank, none of the powers that be want me on the throne.” She gestured at her surroundings. “Why do you think I’m hiding out here, in this contraption, in the middle of a frozen tundra?”

“We fully understand your circumstances. However, it is against our most fundamental tenets to take up arms and engage in any manner of warfare. Therefore, we cannot offer our assistance in that way. Our purpose here is to deliver a warning and a gift.”

“A warning?” Vaush asked, not caring for the sound of that.

The speaker gestured at the seat next to Vaush. “Please be seated, Your Highness. We have much to share with you.”

Apprehensive, and yet eager to learn more, Vaush sat down on the bench and the Murkudahl cleared a spot on the floor before her and seated themselves.

“All life in your system is in grave danger of being annihilated or subjugated into abject slavery.”

This was completely unexpected. Vaush had been anticipating a lecture on the evils of exploitation and warmongering.

“By whom?” she inquired.

“By the Murkudahl.”

“Pardon me,” Vaush said respectfully, “but you just said that the Murkudahl are pacifist.”

“Yes, we, the Murkudahl Kait are pacifist, but our brethren, the Murkudahl Karukii are a different matter altogether.”

Vaush’s brows pinched together. “I wasn’t aware there was such a distinction between the Murkudahl people.”

“There is much about our race that you do not know. It is our desire to educate you and help you understand why you must prevent further exploitation of our people by all means necessary, once you are enthroned.”

“It would please me greatly to learn more about you,” she glanced out the window, “and it appears that I have the time.”

“Good, then let us begin.” Chaiyse turned to Bhedrus who handed her a small box. “This is the Elpanf,” she announced, opening the box to reveal a creature that looked for all the world like a tiny white centipede. “It is indigenous to our homeworld—a pet, if you will.”

Vaush grimaced. “Oh.”

“The Elpanf facilitates communications between telepaths and mouth speakers.”

“A translator of sorts?”

“I suppose that is an adequate enough description.” Chaiyse came and knelt before Vaush. “Through direct contact, the Elpanf has the ability to stimulate the pineal gland deep within the brain, enabling a mouth speaker to receive the thoughts of a telepath.”

Vaush withdrew. “By direct contact? You mean it just needs to touch me?”

“The Elpanf must have direct contact with your brain.” Seeing the distressed look upon her face, Chaiyse added, “Through verbal communication alone, you will not fully comprehend the import of our message. You must see and feel our message.”

Vaush hesitated and Chaiyse gave a slight smile. “It is not painful and it is only a temporary condition.”

Vaush had always prided herself on being open to new experiences and broadening her cultural horizons, but this truly stretched the boundaries. “How?” She pointed at the Elpanf. “How does it get into my brain?”

Chaiyse tapped her nose. “Through the nostril.”

Wide-eyed, Vaush replied, “Surely, you’re not serious.”

Chaiyse only blinked in response.

“Is this really necessary?” She looked at Bhedrus, who nodded at her. She sighed. “Very well.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m ready.” In a moment, Vaush felt a tickle on her lip, then the strangest sensation in her nose, causing her to suppress the urge to sneeze. But in a matter of seconds, she felt nothing.

She opened her eyes. “How do you know when it’s there?”

“The Elpanf will tell us when it is ready,” Chaiyse replied gracefully, moving back to her seat. “Try to relax,” she said in a soothing tone. “Breathe deeply and relax.”

Vaush focused on Chaiyse’s large dark eyes and listened to her voice.

“May I ask you something?”

“Please.”

“You say we’re about to be annihilated for exploiting your people. Some might welcome such retribution upon an oppressive enemy. Why are you warning me?”

“Vaush, you are no more our enemy than a pesky mosquito is yours.” Chaiyse and Bhedrus exchanged glances. Vaush had the distinct feeling they were laughing inside. “Furthermore, you do not yet understand the extent of the retribution that would be rained down upon your people. We have read much of your apocalyptic literature. Nothing you have ever written can even begin to compare.”

Vaush felt humbled. “Is that the way you perceive us, as pesky mosquitoes with a laughable penchant for literature?”

They exchanged glances, again. “Certainly not. We find the study of your people absolutely fascinating.”

Vaush looked skeptical. “I know some zoologists who’d say the same thing about the study of primates.”

Chaiyse’s thoughts seemed to turn inward. “The Elpanf is ready.”

Vaush jumped in her seat at hearing Chaiyse’s voice in her head. Only it wasn’t Chaiyse’s voice alone. It sounded as if ten people spoke at the same time, harmonizing their tones in a chorus. She looked intently at the Murkudahl, trying to project her thoughts.

“No, you must continue using verbal communication. Your mental words are like that of an infant to us.”

“Oh, sorry,” Vaush said, a little embarrassed.

“Are you ready, Your Grace?”

“Yes.”

“Bhedrus is one of our most esteemed historians. He will now relate our history.”

Bhedrus moved closer to Vaush, taking her hands. “Honored One, the things that you will see and hear will be most difficult to observe.” He squeezed her hand gently.

Vaush took a deep breath, trying to steel her nerves. She nodded.

Bhedrus’ black eyes began to glow as if lit from within, turning them gray. Suddenly the interior of the cabin vanished to be replaced by a battle scene. Vaush started to fret until she heard Bhedrus’ voice. “Despite what you see or hear, you are still here on Anchorii inside the cabin with us.”

Vaush gazed anxiously at the horrible warriors mounted upon huge fiery red beasts for steeds. From beneath their great helmets, she saw the distinctive red hair flowing down their backs. She was too afraid to speak, but Bhedrus confirmed her suspicion.

“These are the Murkudahl Karukii.”

One turned Vaush’s way. She saw the large eyes were eerily bright white. He snarled, revealing razor sharp teeth stained with blood. The Karukii’s skin was smeared with fearsome dark green paint and their bodies were heavily clad in ornate armor. Their weapons ranged from heavy razor-sharp swords and war hammers, to laser cannons and weapons born of technology beyond her reckoning.

Her attention was distracted by something flying in mid-air. There were several Karukii mounted upon flying apparatuses, barking orders to the cavalry below. Vaush cupped her ears in vain as hundreds of voices spoke out in her head. She was carried along to the front lines of the battle scene. She beheld an equally fierce-looking army across the field.