Captive

by Cheryl Brooks

  Klara rolled her eyes. “Even with the ‘mated Zetithian’ thing going for us?”

  “Well, probably not,” Moe conceded. “Especially since I’ve never heard of him being interested in anyone—male or female—of any species. But then, as I said before, I don’t know him very well. Larry would be the one to ask.” He peered over the edge toward the lower deck, then looked at his mother. “Speaking of Larry, where is he?”

  “He’s outside,” Jack replied. “Thought someone should stay behind to keep an eye on the Nedwuts.” With a slow wag of her head, she added, “Never thought I’d see the day I’d feel gratitude for anything a Nedwut had done. Still can’t quite wrap my head around it.”

  “Better get used to it, Mom. They have as much of a stake in this rebellion as the natives do. Although they may just want to go home once we’ve recovered the money.” He turned to face Val, who was already perched in front of one of the control panels. “Think you can figure out what Pelarus did with all the money he’s squeezed out of this world?”

  “All I need is a place to start,” Val replied.

  Moe nodded. “He was plotting a course when I got here. I’ll check that out real quick and then you can get started—unless you actually need to go there.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Val said with a shrug. “Depends on where it is.”

  Moe somehow managed to get to the navigation console without stepping on Pelarus, leaving Klara to wish he’d been a little less nimble. Even though Val’s opinion of the matter was reasonable, she still felt like kicking the bastard while he was down. For Moe to have accidentally stepped on his wings would have been perfectly understandable.

  A few taps on the navigation panel had Moe grimacing. “You aren’t gonna believe this; he was headed to Orpheseus Prime.”

  If it weren’t for the flap of his wings to restore his balance, Klara suspected Val would’ve fallen off his chair. He was silent for several moments, and when he finally spoke, his voice trembled with emotion. “I might have guessed.”

  “Don’t want to go back there, do you?” Jack said gently.

  “No, I do not.” Val’s voice sounded stronger now. “And I do not believe your husband would care for it, either.”

  “You got that right,” Jack said with a shudder. “I wasn’t real crazy about the place myself, even if I did find Cat there. Never been anywhere that smelled as bad as Orpheseus.”

  “Clearly, you’ve never spent any time in the Barrens,” Klara muttered. “I can’t imagine any place that smells worse.”

  “You might be surprised,” Jack said. “I had to wear an ultra-filtration respirator to keep from puking the whole time I was there. Don’t know how I lasted as long as I did.”

  “Yeah, well, that was years ago,” Moe pointed out. “Maybe it’s better now.”

  “I doubt it,” Val said. “It always smelled awful. You would think that having been born there, I would’ve grown accustomed to the stench, but I can’t say that I ever did.”

  “And your nose probably isn’t as sensitive as a Zetithian’s,” Jack added. “Dunno how Cat stood it.”

  “Stood what?”

  Klara turned around as a man who looked remarkably like Moe stepped from a hovering platform. Dressed in a white shirt, tan breeches and tall black boots, he carried a large canvas bag slung over his shoulder.

  “The nasty air on Orpheseus Prime,” Jack replied. “You didn’t even have a respirator to protect you from it.”

  The man wrinkled his nose as though recalling an unpleasant odor. “It was disgusting, but there wasn’t anything I could do to escape it. After all, I did have to breathe.”

  “Um, Klara,” Moe began. “As you might have guessed, this is my father, Carkdacund Tshevnoe, also known as Cat.”

  Cat held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Klara.” As he grasped Klara’s hand, he paused, tilting his head to one side. “Two girls and a boy?”

  “Geez, Dad,” Moe exclaimed. “You mean you’re just figuring that out now? I thought sure you would’ve known at the moment of conception.”

  “Damn. I must be slipping.” Cat set down the bag he was carrying, which fell over with a loud clank.

  Jack gasped, staring at her husband with obvious disbelief. “Do you mean to tell me that I knew before you did?”

  “Possibly,” Cat said with a note of caution in his voice. “How did you find out?”

  Klara cleared her throat. “I, um, told her.” She gave Moe an apologetic smile. “I probably should’ve waited until we could tell your parents together, but—”

  “You broke under the interrogation,” Moe said with a nod. “I’m not surprised. Just wish I’d been there to hear it.”

  “I needed to be brought up to speed in a hurry.” Jack patted Klara’s shoulder. “No worries, kid. You did great.” Taking a step back, she shook her head slowly as she eyed Klara from head to foot. “Still can’t believe you’re Trag’s daughter—and half Davordian to boot. Amazing.”

  Klara hadn’t felt at such a disadvantage since her first encounter with a Nedwut posse. “Don’t suppose he’ll believe it, either.”

  “Figure of speech,” Jack said with a dismissive wave. “With hair like that, I don’t see how he can possibly deny the connection. I’m sure there’s a fascinating story behind all this, too.”

  “Dunno how fascinating it is, but there is a story,” Klara admitted. “Maybe we could talk about it later.”

  “Righto,” Jack said. “First things first. Gotta get this bird chained up and”—she aimed a sideways glance at Val—“I’m guessing you’re just dying to do the honors. Right?”

  “Not precisely dying,” Val replied. “But it would give me a great deal of pleasure to chain him as I was once chained.”

  Jack barked out a laugh. “Don’t blame you a bit.”

  Moe gathered up the canvas bag and dumped the contents onto the floor. Removing a small box from the pile, he aimed a questioning look at his parents. “Do you remember how to work the remote control?”

  “I have not forgotten that, either.” Cat lifted a brow as he glanced at his wife. “Righty tighty, lefty loosey?”

  Jack nodded. “I wouldn’t bother with the genital cuff. Although I suppose you could use it to clip his wings together.”

  “An excellent suggestion,” Val said as he and Moe proceeded to apply the cuffs to Pelarus’s wrists, ankles, and neck. After that, they rolled him onto his belly, pulled his wings back, and fastened them together.

  Klara moved closer to scrutinize the cuff that was clamped around the hinge joint in his wings. “Looks like that would be kinda painful.”

  “Very painful,” Val said with a grim smile. “He won’t be flying again anytime soon. Perhaps never.”

  “Good,” she said. “Let’s get him out of here.”

  Using another remote control, Cat maneuvered the platform next to their captive, then Moe and Val rolled Pelarus onto it.

  Moe straightened up and dusted off his hands. “The trick will be getting him out of here without the mob tearing him apart.”

  “True,” Klara said. “Handing him over certainly wouldn’t be the humane thing to do, although he probably deserves anything they could dish out.”

  “Let’s not get too bloodthirsty,” Moe cautioned. “We still need some information from him.” He glanced at Val. “That is, if you think you’ll need it.”

  “Perhaps not,” Val replied. “If he was indeed headed to Orpheseus, I can think of only one place where he would have stashed the, ah, loot.”

  Jack huffed out a breath. “If there’s any loot to be had. Wouldn’t surprise me if he hasn’t spent it all.” She pointed toward the main control panel. “That equipment is state-of-the-art, and this is a pretty nice ship, even if it is Scorillian. And you did say he lives in a palace.”

  “Yes,” Moe acknowledged. “But the gods only know how much he’s spent versus how much he’s invested. He’s been at this for a long time. Claims he’s the second clone of hi
mself.”

  “He must be really hard on a body if he needs to do that,” Jack remarked. “I mean, Ilya Zolo isn’t that old.”

  Moe shrugged. “Maybe he discards a body as soon as it starts to age. It’s also possible that someone other than Zolo cloned him the first time around.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Jack said. “God knows there’ve always been plenty of unscrupulous people who’ll do anything for a buck.”

  “He’s been cloned twice?” The shock of that revelation had rendered Klara momentarily speechless, but she was beginning to recover. She’d always thought of Pelarus as being older than herself—and her mother—but until the past few days, she hadn’t seen him up close. The man they had chained up couldn’t have been more than forty years old. “No wonder not many people knew about the wings. He must’ve done that fairly recently. But what does he do with his old selves? Pension them off? Or does he transfer his consciousness to a new host?”

  Jack rubbed her chin, frowning. “Might transplant the brain and discard the old bodies. If so, he’s bound to be getting a little senile—unless they’ve figured out how to rejuvenate brain cells. Although maybe if you put an old brain in a young body…” She shuddered. “Gives me the creeps just thinking about it.”

  Klara, on the other hand, felt positively ill. “We need to ask Velkma about this. She remembers when Haedus Nine was a healthy planet. Surely someone must’ve noticed that Pelarus has been around forever and never grows old.”

  Chapter 27

  Moe strolled down the gangplank arm in arm with Klara, and the crowd began cheering as soon as they came into view.

  He let them go on for a minute or two before raising his hands for quiet. “Does anyone have any idea how old Pelarus is? Or how long he’s been in power here?”

  To his surprise, Velkma emerged from the throng, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. “He has been here since I was a child, and I have seen over one hundred cycles.” Her eyes grew misty as though she were gazing back through time. “We had never encountered his kind before. They must be very long-lived.”

  “Not exactly,” Moe said. “He claims to have cloned himself twice, although we have no idea how he could transfer his consciousness from one self to another. We’re thinking it might be a brain transplant, but that’s kinda far-fetched even in this day and age.”

  “I believe I know the answer,” Velkma said. “When one of our people is near death, their cognitive self can be transferred to another’s mind. I myself have cumulative knowledge that dates back over a thousand cycles, perhaps more.”

  “You told us you remembered what this planet was like before Pelarus rendered it to dust,” Klara said. “Did you actually see it yourself, or is that someone else’s memory?”

  “That memory is my own,” Velkma replied. “But there are the memories of many others to support it.”

  Moe still didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. In his experience, the transfer of one’s consciousness to another person came straight out of science fiction. “I’m guessing this is a big Haedusian secret. Right?”

  Velkma nodded. “We rarely speak of it. The process is called remkata. It is useful in ensuring that wisdom is passed on before an elder dies. However, there are”—she paused, as though searching for the right word—“consequences. Not every Haedusian can tolerate the mental turmoil it creates. Much knowledge has been lost because of the fear of madness. I have never heard of an offworlder undergoing the remkata ritual before, but it would explain much of what has occurred during Pelarus’s reign. He seemed to have insights into this world and its people that gave him an advantage. He knew things he shouldn’t have known—particularly how to manipulate and control us. Using what he had learned, presumably from the people he killed, he was able to turn us against one another. By the time it became apparent that he was our common enemy, it was too late to stop him.”

  “‘Divide and conquer,’ you mean?” Moe suggested.

  “Yes,” Velkma replied. “I believe that strategy has been used to great advantage elsewhere.”

  “It has indeed,” Moe said. “I can give you several examples from Earth’s history alone.”

  “So how come you’re only telling us this now?” Klara asked. “You must’ve had some suspicions about him.”

  “I had no proof before,” the old woman replied. “But if he has been cloned as many times as you say, there can be no other explanation for what has happened here.”

  Another cheer went up as the load lifter emerged from the ship, escorted by Jack, Cat, and Nexbit, each of them with weapons drawn. They stopped halfway down the gangplank as though unsure of whether to proceed.

  “You will not need weapons to protect him,” Velkma called out, her aged voice surprisingly strong and clear. “We will do him no harm, but he must leave this world, never to return.”

  Jack scowled. “Aw, don’t you want just a little revenge?”

  “We have no wish to descend to his level,” Yirland said as she, too, came forward from the crowd. “We only wish him gone.”

  “We’ll see to that,” Moe said. “But first, we need to recover the wealth he’s squeezed from this world and return it to your people. Then it will be up to you to use it to restore your planet or relocate to another world.”

  “I believe most of us would choose to remain here,” Yirland said. “This is our home—here, where the stars in the night sky are as familiar as the faces of friends and our sun’s rays give us warmth and strength. It may take many generations, but one day, this world will be as healthy and verdant as it once was. Life will always find a way to survive.”

  Moe couldn’t argue with that. If Zetith hadn’t been obliterated, he doubted there would be many refugees who wouldn’t have returned there after the danger had passed. Even with the loss of their homeworld, Zetithians were thriving wherever they settled—whether they chose to live on Terra Minor or on a starship, which was the only kind of home Moe had ever known.

  As though she’d read his thoughts, Klara said, “I, for one, will be very happy to leave this world behind.” She grinned at him. “Can’t wait to see this ship of yours. But first I think you should introduce me to your brother and his mate—at least I assume that fellow who looks enough like you to be your identical twin is your brother.”

  “Yeah, that’s him,” Moe said as Larry and Althea approached. “Klara Tavock, this is Larsanken Tshevnoe, also known as my older brother, Larry, and his mate, Althea Banadänsk.”

  Larry gave Moe a hug that made his loose ribs crunch. “Only older by about five minutes or so.” Chuckling, he shook hands with Klara. “Nice to meet you, Klara.”

  Althea, being an empath, must’ve sensed Moe’s pain, because after giving Klara a hug, she gave Moe a consoling pat on the cheek. “You look like you could use a good night’s sleep to recuperate.”

  “You got that right,” Moe said with a groan. “That’s absolutely the last time I try to squeeze through a hatch.” He glanced toward the crowd. “Has anyone seen Nevid? I think he and I need to have a chat.”

  “He landed right after we did,” Jack replied. “But I’m guessing he might want to lay low for a while. He’s still pretty rattled. You should’ve heard him when he first got through to us. Took me a good ten minutes to get the story out of him.”

  “Just wish he hadn’t gone out of range of my comlink,” Moe grumbled. “The next time he takes off with my ship, he needs to at least remain in orbit in case I need him, which I did.”

  Jack shrugged. “Like I said, he was kinda shook up. Might feel unwelcome here since he’s also Vessonian.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Moe admitted. “But you’re probably right. Don’t suppose he managed to pick up my speeder before he left, did he?”

  “Didn’t mention it,” Jack replied. “Although considering his hasty departure, I kinda doubt it.”

  Just then, the whine of a speeder engine drew Moe’s attention. “Speak of the devil.” His eyes widened.
“Hold on. That is my speeder. Who—?”

  The speeder came to a stop, the parking struts dropped, and the engine fell silent. The canopy popped open to reveal the occupants.

  “You little rascals!” Moe exclaimed as the three Racks came swarming out of it, chattering with excitement. Moe knelt down and held out his arms. “C’mere, you guys.” Bik, Jal, and Lis scampered into his embrace. “Thank you so much! How did you ever find it?”

  Bik tapped his nose, then pointed at Moe.

  Frowning, Moe glanced at Klara for clarification.

  “I think they mean they were able to find it because it smells like you,” she said.

  “Yah, boss.” Nodding vigorously, Bik tapped his nose again.

  Moe stood and gave the Racks each a pat on the head. “Didn’t realize my scent was that, um, distinctive.”

  Klara chuckled. “You’re only the second Zetithian they’ve ever met. Plus, you’re the only male. If we hadn’t been constantly on the run from the bad guys, I’m sure they would have found it before now.”

  Moe ran a hand over the front end of the speeder. “Not even scratched. I suppose I could’ve gotten a newer model if we hadn’t found it, but having always been partial to British racing green, I really like this one.” He cleared his throat. “I kinda like my ship, too. Glad Nevid didn’t let Pelarus get it. He probably would’ve had it modified to fit him by now.”

  “Speaking of Nevid,”—Jack pointed toward a nearby docking bay—“Here he comes now.”

  Poor Nevid was practically in tears as he hurried toward them. “I was heading out for lunch when a gang of Nedwuts showed up, saying they had orders to impound the ship and throw me in the dungeon. I ran back onto the ship as fast as I could and closed the hatch, but then they hauled out the biggest disruptor I’ve ever seen in my life and threatened to blow up the ship. When I couldn’t raise you on the comlink, I didn’t know what else to do, so I just fired up the engines and took off. I called your mom as soon as I calmed down enough to think.”

  “Well, no harm done, really.” Moe dropped an arm around Klara and gave her a squeeze. “Everything actually turned out pretty well.”