But simply showing her wasn't enough; he taunted Pera, gloating at the misery and slavery of her people. She'd never felt such rage in her entire life; she trembled with it, her entire body cold and tingling. I'll kill him, she vowed to herself, even if I have to die too. He could see her rage, and his eyes danced with amusement, which only pushed her further down that dark corridor.
After he had his fun with the glass screen, he gestured to the massive tank in the centre of the lab. They could see something within the glass from where they stood, but as they drew closer the thing became clearer, and Pera's heart beat faster. She'd thought of Riffolk as a monster, but the thing in the tank fit the word literally.
It was huge, and its body was half animal half machine, or so it seemed. Its face was utterly inhuman, other than its cold, pale yellow eyes; something about those eyes was eerily human. It was clearly alive, but was kept in a permanent sleep, its eyes half closed. Occasionally it twitched, and Pera found herself wondering what kind of beast it was when free and alert.
She wondered if it was as scary or as deadly as it looked; if it could be as destructive as its appearance suggested. Looking at its razor sharp metal-looking claws and jagged, muscular body, she thought it likely. She glanced at the weapon in the scientist's hand, and a plan formed in her mind like the sudden glow of a newly lit candle. When the time came, she moved as fast as a shadow viper.
Pera dove behind the console, the wound in her leg burning. She'd never seen a weapon like the one Riffolk carried, but she'd assumed it could only make a single shot at a time; the second one took her by surprise. Foolish, she thought, don't assume anything with a man like Riffolk Hayne. Trapped now, but at least out of range of his gun, she was still at the mercy of his taunting. He kept at it, and though she knew he was simply trying to provoke her, it was working. Every time he spoke, that tiny hint of amusement in his voice, she told herself not to reply, to simply say nothing. And every time, she shouted back at him from behind the console, her voice growing emotional.
She knew her time was almost up. There was no way out; Mara was utterly useless, the door out of the lab was in the far corner past Riffolk, and there was no way of knowing how many more shots his gun could fire before it was empty. All she had was the console she hid behind. She wasn't even close enough to get to him before he could shoot her.
"You will die today, Tyran. And your people will follow soon after. Or maybe... Maybe I should press that button now, so you can watch your people die right in front of you."
It was too much. She knew she would die, and she knew she couldn't kill him or even reach him before she did, but it didn't matter any more. Tyra was lost, there was no way out of the lab, and Riffolk was going to win. She screamed and bolted around the console. Time felt slow and heavy, and she saw him raise the gun. Its barrel pointed directly at her face, and she could see the tip of the projectile in its depths. Still running, she saw a flash, then darkness, and heard just the very beginning of a deafening boom.
Mara
Pera dashed just as Riffolk fired his gun. For a single second, Mara thought she'd been hit. She dived and Riffolk fired again, but this time blood splattered the floor and her heart froze. She couldn't fully process what was happening. Pera rolled and ran to cover. She disappeared behind a bench before it occurred to Mara that she hadn't died. Her breath was uneven now, her heartbeat even worse, and the lights somehow became brighter as her husband reloaded the gun. Pera spoke up from behind her hiding place.
"You won't be able to wipe out all of Tyra... Ermoor's leaders would never let you get away with it."
Riffolk looked bored. He glanced at Mara, and the total lack of emotion in his eyes plunged her into further confusion. The whole situation felt like a dream; had she hit her head at some point? Was this some awful nightmare? Tyra, the lab, Riffolk being a monster... God wouldn't allow any of this. The Twelve Crowns wouldn't allow any of it. Ermoor was a perfect society.
"Fool," Riffolk said, "The Twelve Crowns gave their blessing on this project. They know full well what the fate of Tyra will be."
He kept taunting Pera, and she argued back, but Mara couldn't focus enough to hear the words. Her head was swimming in a haze of terror and denial. She started praying silently, sure that God would do something, anything, to fix things. But, as always, her prayers were ignored. Pera remained out of sight, Riffolk's gun trained on the place where she hid. For the first time, Mara really thought about God. The scene unfolding before her slowed, and she felt something give way inside her. It felt like a corset finally being untied after a long dinner party. She could breathe, and think. Pera's words came back to her;
"What kind of God forces half of His subjects to be inferior to the other half?"
She remembered thinking Ermoor couldn't possibly be heaven, because God would never allow Riffolk into His Kingdom. What little schooling she'd had never discussed anything outside of Ermoor other than to say how Godless everywhere else was. She'd heard of Shanaken, Tarsium, and Omas, and possibly one or two more countries from ancient times. Why would God create so many people who were condemned to hell? Why not just create Ermoor itself, if it was the perfect society?
She remembered every time she'd felt a slight doubt about God, and had buried it deep down, listening to her father and the priests and believing the scripture. Every time she had a question about why things were the way they were, why God did the things he did. She realised she still felt all those questions and doubts, and had never been given a real answer. Out of her new focus, an old memory from a church service rose up:
The Priest paced the stage, glaring around at the children in the front pews.
"When you have a problem, and you pray, do you know who is listening?"
"God is!" all the children shouted.
"Yes! And do you know who is responsible for fixing your problems?"
"God is!" all the children shouted again.
"No!" the Priest stopped pacing, his glare growing more intense. The children were utterly silenced.
"It is your responsibility! God will not heal your scraped knees and elbows, or stop a bully from pushing you to the ground. He gave you the strength you need, it's up to you to use it! He listens to our prayers, but he will only help in the most dire of circumstances, and only for the most devout of his servants."
Mara had been ten years old. She remembered thinking that if God listened but refused to act, He wasn't very good. She'd said as much to her father after the service and received a swift slap to the back of the head for her attitude. Now, hearing those words again, she thought if he ever would help, it would be now. She was devout, though she had her doubts. She prayed every day, went to church whenever her father or another man took her, and knew her place. Her circumstances were dire. But God didn't do anything. Had never done anything.
He gave you the strength you need, it's up to you to use it! Two tools came flying from behind Pera's hiding place, pulling her attention back to the present, but they missed Riffolk. The gun went off again and she screamed. Riffolk stayed where he was though; Pera seemed to still be alive. He stepped closer to her, his eyes trained intently on Pera. The gun he'd put them to sleep with rested in a holster on his belt, on the side closest to Mara. Riffolk taunted Pera again, she screamed and jumped out from her hiding place.
A loud, awful cracking sound came from somewhere, and Mara took her chance. She snatched the gun from its holster, stepping back just as Riffolk fired his gun again. She tensed, thinking he'd shot her, but there was no pain. Pera toppled to the ground, a red, jagged mess where her head used to be. Mara's mind emptied, her heart tore, and she screamed. Pera was the only safe person, the only person who'd genuinely helped her, and she lay mangled on the cold metal floor.
Riffolk started reloading his gun. He hadn't seen her yet.
"Stop!" she shouted.
He completely stopped moving. The effect was terrifying, and intoxicating. This powerful man, the wealthiest man in Ermoor, the man
who had used her countless times and discarded her afterwards, had instantly obeyed her command. His eyes rose to meet hers, and a deep, boiling rage radiated from him in an overwhelming wave.
He snapped the gun closed with a loud clack, and she almost fired the gun in her hand. The awful sound she'd heard before happened again, like something gigantic slowly breaking, and she knew it was some trick or gadget Riffolk was using. Was it just a distraction, or was something about to kill her?
"What is that? What are you doing?" she said.
"I don't know."
He looked around, distracted. He might be telling the truth, she thought. The idea was somehow even scarier than him using some sneaky trick to kill or catch her without warning; what could be happening in Riffolk's own secret lab that he didn't know about?
Riffolk was staring at the glass tank. It was covered in massive cracks. A grating, electronic sound started from it. She felt the blood drain from her face. That thing is awake. Riffolk woke it up!
"What are you doing, Riffolk?" she whispered.
His eyes softened, just for a moment, and her heart fluttered for him, even after everything that had happened. The giant, deep cracking sound filled her ears once more, and then the thing in the tank let loose a horrible roar, and the glass holding it in exploded.
The creature bolted out of its cage. Riffolk fired his gun twice at it, but it roared and kept moving. Mara's first instinct was to fire at it, screaming as she pulled the trigger, but the dart pinged off its metal skin. She fired again, this time at Riffolk; it's under his control after all... isn't it? He took a stumbling step away from the creature as it reached him.
"Stupid..." he said.
It grabbed him, and he screamed as it lifted him off the ground and threw him across the lab. It stared at her, and she fired the gun again. She couldn't tell if it hit, but the creature was unaffected. Too late, she realised she was between it and the only door out of the lab. With terrifying speed, it ran. She wasn't fast enough to get out of its way, and it grabbed her the same way it grabbed Riffolk, its massive claws covering her entire shoulder and neck.
Immediately, an intense, buzzing pain arced through her body from the point the creature touched. It felt as though lightning and fire had replaced her blood. Rhythmic thumping shook her, and she realised the creature was running with her still in its hand. After a few seconds that felt far longer, she was flung across the room, and heard the beast smash its way out the door. A bare second later, her head cracked against a wall and she toppled to the ground. The lab swam through a murky grey cloud and then slipped away.
Riffolk
Riffolk's lab had been designed to his exact specifications, under his strict supervision. The underground lab had been completed by a much smaller team, and Riffolk himself had done a lot of the work. The builders who'd worked on the underground lab all mysteriously vanished just as it was completed. Nobody knew they were working for Riffolk, and nobody realised work was being done underneath the main lab. The secrecy allowed him to install equipment and technology that would never have been accepted by Ermoor.
The creature he siphoned energy from was immoral enough, but at least the Twelve Crowns and Symond could see its necessity. Until the Shenza woman got to Symond. Now there was nothing in the lab which could be seen by anyone other than Riffolk. He loved the isolation of course, and had no problem with staying out of the public eye. It meant fewer distractions for his work.
It also meant killing the Tyran of course, which would have been fine on its own. But Mara was another matter. He couldn't easily explain her sudden disappearance; as her husband, he was solely responsible for her. Even though everyone knew he spent all of his time at the lab, her disappearing would bring unwanted attention onto him at a time when he needed to remain inconspicuous.
A few moments slid by in the heavy silence, Riffolk enjoying the build of tension as the Tyran girl's breathing became irregular.
"You can't hide forever, girl. You and your people are done."
"We'll fight. We'll find a way!"
Her voice was tight, emotional. Weak. She was close to snapping. He had two quick shots, and more ammunition on his belt. She was fast, but he could take her. The distance between them would allow him to take both shots before she reached him, and as long as one connected, he should be able to reload quickly enough to take her down if the first two shots didn't end her. He pulled two rounds from his belt and held them ready in his left hand.
His gun, which was one of his own inventions of course, worked by hurling small lead ball bearings at the enemy using a controlled explosion within the barrel. His personal weapon was a new prototype; the guns he sold to the military had to be reloaded after every shot, and while reloading was relatively fast and easy, it could still slow a soldier down. His gun held two rounds at once, fired them one at a time, and then ejected them for even faster reloading.
The console she hid behind was tall, too tall for her to easily jump over. She could only run around if she was going to attack. And the door out of the lab was behind Riffolk, to his left; even if her plan was escape and not combat, she'd have to go through him. He moved silently, towards Mara. She stepped away, quick, as though he were a deadly snake. Her fear was satisfying, and more importantly, useful; he needed her out of the way. Too bad he was too busy to truly enjoy it. He made a mental note to play with her later, to enjoy her fear properly; maybe even straight after he killed the Tyran.
The thought brought a smile to his lips; he couldn't help it. Mara's fear was always entertaining, but he'd never brought her to this level of terror before; now she would see him in a whole new light. Controlling her from now on would be interesting. He was looking forward to the challenge. But he was getting ahead of himself; he focused on the girl again. Her breathing was still ragged; not only fear but pain. The wound in her leg must have been bad. It would slow her down even more.
She was more interested in the welfare of her people than of herself. And justice. She seemed to think the world would provide fairness and justice to people who deserved it. People like that sickened Riffolk. Such weakness. Her naivety was painful. But it was a weakness he found exceptionally easy to exploit.
"You don't understand," he said, "Tyra can be wiped out without any Ermoori soldiers being present. I installed poison canisters in dozens of key locations, all linked to one button in this lab."
Her ragged breathing stopped, and silence filled the room. A heavy wrench hurtled over the console, passed by two metres to his right, and clanged to the floor. A deep, loud crunch sounded from somewhere behind him, and another tool flew towards him, again missing him by a few metres. She was aiming for where he had been, and was surprisingly accurate; if he hadn't moved, both tools would have hit him.
Her eyes peeked briefly over the top of the console, and Riffolk fired. Mara screamed, and sparks flew off the console, but there was no splash of blood.
"You will die today, Tyran. And your people will follow soon after."
He watched closely, waiting for her move. She'd marked him, and her aim was disturbingly precise; he moved again, towards Mara, feeling her presence nearby without looking. His wife didn't back away this time, but he was focused on the other girl. The trap was set, and he knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself.
"Or maybe..." he said slowly, stretching the thought out into silence, "maybe I should press that button now, so you can watch your people die right in front of you."
She screamed before he'd even finished his thought, and bolted from behind the console. Another deep crunching sound filled the lab, and Riffolk felt something tap his left side. But the Tyran was running toward him, fast. He fired, and her head exploded as she ran. Her momentum carried her through another two steps before she spilled to the ground, and Mara screamed. He reloaded out of habit, but before he'd finished Mara screamed at him.
"Stop!"
Pure shock stopped him. His wife had never once raised her voice at him like that. When he
glanced up from the Tyran's corpse, his shock grew deeper, and a wave of fury splashed through his thoughts. She held his dart gun, pointed at his chest. Her face was pale, her lips set in a grim line. He finished reloading, closing the gun's barrel with a sharp clack. Mara flinched, and stepped back slightly.
The crunching sound broke the silence again, deeper and louder this time.
"What is that? What are you doing?"
Mara's voice was shaky, terrified. The barrel of his dart gun shook, her tense finger pulled up against the trigger.
"I don't know," he said, looking around the room. It seemed to come from everywhere now.
As another crunch echoed in the lab, he realised what it was.
Thick, reinforced and insulated glass contained the powerful creature. It was designed to contain the immense power created by the creature, and to stop any attacks from within if something went wrong with the sedation. A direct blast from his prototype firearm, which was more powerful than the standard military weapons, was enough to form a scattered web of deep cracks in the glass. Each crunch was another massive crack shooting out from where Riffolk shot the tank. The cracks had spread too much already; most of the glass on his side was irreparably damaged. A pair of eyes stared back at him from behind the broken glass, pale yellow and just as emotionless as his own. They were no longer half-closed, staring listlessly at the lab's wall; they stared directly at him, aware and alert.
A dull grinding emanated from within the chamber, and he realised the creature was growling. Mara's skin was ghostly, her eyes wider than he'd ever seen them.
"What are you doing, Riffolk?" she whispered.
For the barest second, he felt a pang of something towards her. Not love, surely. Pity? He couldn't tell, it was an utterly alien feeling to him. One more crunch filled the room, the creature's growl turned into a roar, and the tank exploded.
Daughter of War Page 12
