Lyall screamed, the sound coarse and ugly. I almost joined him, would have but for my internal audience.
“Look well!” The demon laughed, sending joy and corruption through every cell of my body. “I am your death!”
Behold the manticore! Zenni muttered, clinging doggedly to his programmed logic. It can’t be real! It must be illusion. Nothing like that can exist!
Oh, it’s real enough! No illusion could call up the twin sensations of overwhelming love and inexpressible hatred within me at the same instant. I reconsidered screaming.
“Anna, you have to get out of there,” Jeb said, very quietly, inside my ear. “You can’t fight that. Nobody can—”
There was a tiny ‘phut’ at the side of my head and his voice was gone.
The demon stood, seeming to rise up forever into the opaque sky. Its charnel stench made me want to vomit and its threatening movement made me want to run—I could do neither, in the thrall of paralysis. As the hell-spawned monster stood erect I saw that it had the body of a lion, its scarlet pelt vermin-ridden and broken by a patchwork of sores. Its tail was that of a serpent, patterned in black and crimson scales, with a scorpion sting at its tip. The fiend took one step towards us, spreading its leathery wings and lowering its head to our level. Its foetid breath all but made me faint.
“Earthman,” the demon’s eyes focused over my left shoulder. “You are judged and found wanting! Your pathetic little life is the price of that failure and your soul is forfeit to me!”
“No!” The telepath’s denial was weak and tremulous. Under the monster’s stare all of his defences collapsed and I rocked at the burden of his fear. I turned to Zenni for support, but his horror mirrored mine and he was quaking too. Lyall screamed again, over and over, until the sound blurred into a formless wail. I shared his death-panic, having nowhere to hide from it, and it was almost a relief when it ceased. His scream died in mid-breath and his mind went black. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even turn my head. I heard the dull thump as his body hit the ground.
“Anna-Marie.” The manticore hissed my name, a caress wrapped in a curse. “You are also found unworthy. You have betrayed your friends! You have caused their deaths—”
“You’re killing them, hell-begotten!” I shrieked. “You’re the murderer, not me!”
“Be silent!” Slowly, inexorably, its stare drew my eyes like a magnet. All the hatred in the universe was contained in those eyes, and twice as much contempt. I felt like a microbe facing a mountain. The loathing on that monstrous face swept away all the self-confidence, courage and hope I’d ever possessed. I began to tremble and tears poured down my cheeks, but that was as nothing compared with the pit of misery inside me.
Anna! Zenni’s scream was that of a cornered animal, trapped in the cage of my skull. Stripped bare of all his logic and calm, his control snapped. He whimpered like a child freshly woken from nightmare and I wept for his fear.
“Don’t leave me!” The cry from the bottom of my heart went unheeded. The link between us dissolved as Zenni fled, and I was alone.
“Silence!” The command cut through my involuntary shriek. “The accursed machine has been banished. Thank me—I’ve freed you from its possession. You are mine now, Anna-Marie, body, mind and soul!”
I was physically frozen, yet terror lent me the strength to teleport. I didn’t go far, just to the clearing that housed the tiger’s zoo. For one blessed instant I thought I was free and the hope made me dizzy, I was drunk on it—until the demon appeared.
“You can’t escape, witch!” it sneered. “Your magic is too weak. I can follow wherever you go.”
Blind panic overtook me and I jumped at random. I landed on wet heather under a leaden sky that leaked drizzle. Something about the place clicked and I recognised the place—the prison island on Ile Garoque, one of Tambouret’s nearer neighbours, a scant thirty light-years. Surely I’d be safe here?
The demon materialised, grinning.
I put more concentration into the next leap and as I snapped from nothing to there, the distance made my head spin. It was an area of rough ground, of hills and holes cloaked in gorse bushes, their yellow flowers out and their faint scent like a cleansing draught. This was my home, Earth, close to my grandmother’s cottage. I didn’t dare add up the light-years but I did allow myself a thin smile. Nothing could track me down here.
Behind me, the manticore laughed, sending peals of red-hot agony and bone-aching pleasure ringing through my abused body. I whirled in unbelief—it was really there. Flames ran along its reptilian flanks, searing the golden flowers and setting the nearest bushes on fire. The sight of such destruction in a place that meant so much to me only multiplied my desolation.
“No!” I teleported again, scarcely aware of my destination until I reached it. The world was called Greenholme and I knew only this minute part of it, an isolated alpine meadow. It occupied a special place in my memories, as I’d spent three months here in convalscence after the second near-fatal injury of my life. Perhaps that was what drew me here now, the belief that the tranquil, healing atmosphere of this perfect retreat could save me.
The demon appeared, right on cue, and its anger was growing. It howled like a banshee. “Damnable Terran bitch, leading me such a fine dance across the slums of this galaxy! I’ll burn you for this! I’ll char your pathetic body to a crisp! I’ll tear your puny limbs from your—”
I had enough energy left for one final jump, though there was nowhere I could think of to go. The demon spat a cone of carbuncle fire at me and I jumped by reflex alone. It was no surprise where my subconscious carried me.
Obsidian sand was red-hot beneath my bare feet, the pain merely another straw to add to my burden. The three suns were at noon, green-white Mirya, her yellow brother Yanus and the vast globe of the orange sky-king, Arnu. Their combined fury steamed the sweat from my skin, yet couldn’t warm the icy terror in the pit of my stomach.
Lysseya.
Perhaps it had been inevitable that my flight would end here. I stood still, arms limp at my sides, head bowed under the inferno of the triple suns. I didn’t see my pursuer wink into existence but I felt the wind of displaced air at its arrival. It was still in the middle of a tirade of abuse, totally concerned with dismembering my poor body, scrambling what was left of my mind and torturing my soul for all eternity.
“Sweet goddess, don’t you ever shut up?” I demanded tiredly.
Its outburst ceased abruptly. The beast squatted on its haunches, for all the world like an oversized dog, and its human eyes sizzled with fury.
“This is Lysseya,” I said, by way of conversation. My fear had run its course and was all but exhausted. Even my voice seemed quite calm, and I was almost proud of that. “I nearly died here once. I think it’s fitting that you kill me here. It proves you can’t outwit Lady Destiny at the very last.”
“Your soul belongs to me, little miss.” Its voice was sugar-sweet, acid and poisonous. “Do you surrender it?”
“I accept defeat.” I forced a thin smile. “All you can give me is death and I can’t find it in me to fear that. I am Anna-Marie Delany, and I don’t believe you can take that from me.”
“Such pitiful pride for a mortal!” The demon snarled. “It will avail you nothing!”
Its hideous jaws opened, dripping putrid slime on my upturned face, the deathly smell of its breath threatening to overwhelm me. All of my terror had burnt out and my throat was too dry to scream, but a tiny ember of annoyance flared into life as those jaws descended. It hadn’t needed to touch Lyall to kill him—why should it subject me to this final indignity?
I ducked, sidestepped and made a ball of both hands, bringing them down with all the force I could muster on the monster’s lumpish nose. It was a feeble blow and I didn’t think I could hurt it. I was too weak to do any real damage, but the ear-splitting squeal it let out spoke volumes to the contrary. It reared back on its tail, livid black blood pouring from its snout, with authentic terror in its eyes
. I only caught one glimpse of its face as it turned to run from me, and the shock and panic etched there were no illusion. The loathsome demon-body lost its solid outline, folding in on itself until it dissolved into coils of dark grey fog. Then the abomination was gone, leaving only a dull crimson glow that rapidly dissipated. Beneath was a pale-skinned, red-haired man curled into a foetal ball atop a carved, fallen monolith.
I blinked, but that vision persisted. I was still sprawled on the damp grass of the clearing in the Forest of Dreams. It occurred to me then that perhaps I’d never moved from Tambouret, that my fear-driven tour of the galaxy had been nothing but high-level illusion.
“I don’t suppose I’ll ever be sure.” I croaked, through a throat raw from screaming.
Above me the sky was blue-grey and growing lighter by the minute. I knew that the sun must be rising somewhere out of my sight. The moist air was quiet, as if the trees held their breath in honour of the dawn. I was bone-weary and sore, yet urgency muttered in my veins. I rolled over and painfully gained my knees. Standing up was only a vain dream, so I crawled to Lyall’s side.
He was alive! His skin was clammy, his colour an unhealthy pallor, but to my amazement, he was still breathing and his pulse was strong. I passed on to check Chandre and Meeka, who were both as deeply unconscious as the telepath. As I touched Angel, the child woke and two immature sapphire eyes gazed anxiously up into mine.
“Don’t worry, Angel, dear.” I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. “Anna will take you home.”
Spreadeagled across the quartet of bodies, I achieved some form of physical contact with all of them. I sketched a picture of our destination with utmost care, bending all my flagging concentration to the task. There must be no mistake now. I had only one chance left and I threw heart and soul into the effort as I teleported. I could have wept with pure relief when the grid-iron floor of Brimstone’s flight deck appeared under my face. I lifted my head and met Jeb’s thunderstruck grey eyes.
“Hi, honey!” I managed to go through the motions of a grin before I passed out.
Chapter Ten: This Pretty Phantom
Why did I always wake up with such an atrocious headache? Bad karma in a previous life, I suppose. There was a buzzing in my ears, a gritty soreness in my eyes and a metallic aftertaste in my mouth, which birthed a few suspicions that my stupor had been unnatural, even drug-induced. I squinted up at the oh-so-superior pristine white ceiling of a small, clinical room, which I shared with a tubular steel bed and a sink on one wall. Had to be a hospital, could have been on any one of a thousand planets clear across the galaxy. Where then? Deep down in the marrow of my bones, beyond logic, beyond intuition, I knew this was Earth, a feeling so sure, so certain, that I’d put money on it. I turned my head, finding the lack of a window—no help there. I did discover that I was attached to an IV drip-set, stat saline solution plus glucose, but that was the sum total of all the data I gathered.
Zenni? I called silently, hopefully.
No reply. The link between us was down. No way to raise him without skin contact. Shit.
The sound of the door opening demanded my attention. My first visitor was a woman and I knew her face—Dr Beth Ayres, EI’s resident medic. Behind her was another doctor, Michael Collins. Both maintained mind-screens as protection against me and their expressions were just short of hostile. My guess was right—this was dear old Terra, and I must be either at Delany Corp or in the bowels of Merope Station. All my previous mission debriefings had been informal chats over tea and biscuits with my boss-lady, Chandre; now it looked as if I was set for the no-holds-barred classic interrogation. After what I’d already faced, it was an insult.
“I’m supposed to ask where I am, huh?” I said, before either could speak. “That’s the accepted format, isn’t it?”
“Didn’t I tell you she’d be next to recover?” Collins observed sourly. “The bitch is tough!”
“This bitch is your prime agent. If you can’t be gracious, you might try being civil!” I snapped.
“Prime agent? Oh, you’ve really fouled up on this one, Anna! As of now, you’re out of EI, and I mean for good!”
“You don’t have the right to fire me—” I protested.
“Michael, go easy on her.” Beth cut in. “She’s weak from whatever sedatives were in her system. She can’t stand up to treatment like this.”
“Spare me the mean-guy-and-friend scenario—I don’t need that crap!” I said, before Michael exploded again. “If you want answers, you’ll have to ask the questions nicely. I’m in no mood to play along with your power games. Upset me again and I’ll leave.”
“You’re in no condition to teleport out of here!” Collins scoffed. “How can you? You don’t even know where you are!”
“Haven’t I warned you about telling me what I can and can’t do? As for where I am, this is the Delany site at Lindsay. Next question?”
From the glint of anger in his eyes I knew I’d guessed right. “What happened on Tambouret?”
“Didn’t Chandre tell you the whole story?”
The off-white flare of fury in his aura seemed out of all proportion to my simple question. “Don’t play the innocent with me, Anna! You must know the circumstances of your arrival back on Earth.”
“Do tell.” I smiled sweetly, masking my rising concern.
Collins glared in exasperation at Dr Ayres. “Is she acting dumb on me, Beth?”
The blonde woman shrugged. “She was unconscious when we reached her ship. It’s possible that she might not know or remember how she got home.”
“Perhaps.” Collins still looked dubious, but made some effort to calm down. “Your new ship touched down at SanFran two days ago. By the time we were alerted to her arrival an hour or so had passed, and when we got there we found five people on board, all out cold. The Jansen child woke first, yesterday.”
“She checked out fine, a little hungry, a little scared, but pretty much healthy.” Beth added.
“We assumed that you’d all been heavily sedated, so we waited for you to come round,” Collins said smoothly, ignoring the interruption. “Chandre, Meeka Jansen and the man we presume to be Lyall are still comatose and in intensive care.”
I lost it for a moment and must have looked as shell-shocked as I felt, because Beth gave me her best reassuring smile and continued. “We did think at first that they were drugged too, then the screens came up negative. We’re carrying out further investigations, of course, but there seems to be no organic cause for their coma. As far as we can determine, they’ve been unconscious since you left Tambouret. There were signs that they’d been receiving IV feeds and basic medical care when we found them. In fact, all of you sleeping beauties were in pretty good shape.”
“I see.” My respect for Jeb soared. I’d always known he was resourceful, but this? Not only had he coped with a comatose cargo and piloted us back to Earth in an unfamiliar craft, he’d got us down unseen and vanished before EI could catch him. I could almost forgive him for keeping me asleep all the way in, which he’d probably done on Zenni’s advice. “What explanation did you get from my Zenith?”
“Not a bean!” Michael’s anger slipped the leash again. “4013 was incoherent, practically insane. It babbled on about deserting you, leaving you in danger, under threat of extinction, and some nonsense about devils or demons or somesuch! The machine was unhinged and useless. I don’t understand how it managed to fly the ship back to Earth, let alone care for the passengers.”
“I flew Brimstone.” I lied.
“If that’s so, you would have been aware of Chandre’s state—and why dose yourself with sedatives after you’d touched down?”
“Perhaps I had problems getting to sleep?”
Beth smiled wryly. “Normal folks don’t use IV drugs for insomnia.”
“We know from the residual bruising down your right side that you were involved in combat before you left Tambouret.” Collins added. “What happened?”
The med
ic pursed her lips and I saw the spin of her thoughts as she tried to calculate the source of that much damage. “What did you collide with, a small asteroid?”
“Only a wall. Careless of me, I know, but we all have our bad days.”
“Stop prevaricating, Anna! There was someone else on your ship.” Collins accused. “And I want to know who!”
“There was no-one at all, just me and my partner. Where’s Brimstone now—still at SanFran Port?”
“That’s the other mystery.” Michael admitted. “I ordered your Zenith to stay put, yet an hour after we left the ship lifted. Traffic bungled the tracking, as usual, and we have no idea where the spacecraft is now.”
I could have cheered. Bless Jeb, bless his cunning, twisted genius! Not only had he got himself to safety, but he’d rescued Zenni and Brimstone into the bargain. Only I would know where to find them, under the cold arctic permafrost. I kept the delight off my face, yet couldn’t suppress a smile as something else clicked. “You used one of your illicit codewords to hold 4013 at SanFran, didn’t you? Dear Goddess, Michael, I wish I could have been there to see your face when it failed!”
“What codewords, Anna?” He feigned innocence poorly.
“The ones insinuated into 4013’s master-programs by that clever little device your mechanics sneaked into the system when they transferred it to my new spacecraft. I found it, you see, your viral creche. You’re forever trying to put chains on me, Michael, but you don’t use the right chains.”
The Beauty of Our Weapons Page 21
