King's Sacrifice

by Margaret Weis

  "I wonder, though," said Xris, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, his good eye, the twist's smoke curling from his hps, "if you'd have done it."

  "What do you think?" Maigrey retorted coldly.

  Xris took the twist from his mouth, examined it. "I think you're disappointed you didn't have to."

  Behind her, Maigrey heard a gurgling sound—Sparafucile's version of a chuckle. Maigrey ignored the assassin, ignored the cyborg, ignored the jab of conscience that reminded her of her thoughts an instant back there on the bridge. The fleeting, wistful realization that all her troubles could end in a flash. A very bright flash.

  The Corasian delegation arrived aboard a shuttlecraft sent from the mother ship. She and Xris and Sparafucile stood waiting for the docking bay doors to boom shut, the breathable atmosphere and pressure inside the docking bay to return to normal conditions. She was nervous, tense, ill at ease. She'd never spoken to a Corasian before, previous contact having been limited to killing them before they had a chance to kill her. She knew something of how their minds worked; it had been a dictum of Sagan's—know your enemy. She knew, for example, that those boarding her ship would be soldiers, nothing less . . . nothing more.

  The Corasian collective mind, or "hive" as humans tended to think of it, divided its "people" into various categories: soldiers, sailors, tinkers, spies, as one of her sociology instructors had put it. Each Corasian operated within boundaries proscribed by the collective mind, not dreaming—for they had no dreams—of doing anything else. This made for a highly efficient and orderly society that did not, however, deal well with new and unforeseen situations.

  "Stay calm," she repeated to herself. "Stay calm." But her fingers clenched tightly over the hilt of the bloodsword.

  Xris jerked the twist from his mouth with a sudden movement that startled Maigrey and sent a ripple of tense, involuntary reaction through the half-breed, caused his gunhand to twitch.

  "Don't do that!" Maigrey snapped, beneath her breath, though there was absolutely no possibility of anyone hearing them.

  The shuttlecraft had touched down, was making itself secure. The docking bay doors shivered and began to shut.

  Xris tossed the twist to the deck, ground it beneath his heel.

  "You ever seen how those things kill people, sister?"

  "Yes," said Maigrey, "and I don't think this is the time to discuss—" but Xris wasn't listening.

  "I saw them kill Chico. And I couldn't do anything but stand there and watch. Our weapons were useless. Hell, how long had it been since anyone in the galaxy had seen one of these things?

  "We kept firing at the damn things, but it didn't stop them. Finally, we ran out of juice. The lasguns were almost drained. Our one hope was to reach our spaceplanes, turn the lascannons on 'em. We almost made it. Then Chico was hit. He went down. I was going back for him. You know what happened?"

  Xris looked at her. Maigrey shook her head, silently.

  "My battery went dead. Half my body locked up solid. I couldn't move. Hell, it was all I could do to stand. The arm, the leg, like carrying lead weights. The Corasians were right behind Chico. When he saw me seize up, saw the lights go out, he knew what'd happened. He grinned at me, raised himself up on one arm, and said, 'Next time, before we go out, get a recharge!' And then they had him."

  Maigrey let him talk. The shuttle's hatch opened, the fiery red bodies, encased in their robot shells, started to trundle down the ramp.

  "They broke out of those damn shells of theirs, and it was like molten lava, flowing over the ground, only fast. Real fast. They started at his feet. I could smell the leather of his boots burn and then the flesh ... He began to scream. They'd been fast, getting to him, but now they took their time . . ."

  Xris took a twist from his pocket, started to put it in his mouth, looked at it, stuffed it back in his shirt again.

  "I shot him. It was all I could do for him. It drained the gun, and I threw it at them. Worthless piece of junk. About like me. By that time, Harry and Britt had come back for me, dragged me on board the plane, plugged me in." His voice was bitter. "Recharged me."

  Maigrey frowned, glanced at him in concern. "Are you going to be all right?"

  "Meaning am I going to do anything stupid?" Xris shook his head, smiled a half smile, tight-lipped, grim. "I'll stay cool. I just wanted to say, sister, in case I don't get the chance, thanks for bringing me along."

  Maigrey didn't find this particularly reassuring but it was too late to do anything now. Xris wasn't the type to go on some wild, vengeance-driven rampage. But Maigrey, watching the Corasians come aboard, seeing the ameboid, fiery red bodies encased in their steelglass robot shells roll toward her, was forced to fight down her own feelings of revulsion, horror, fear; forced to battle the sudden, instinctive, panicked urge to strike out at them before they could destroy her. And she judged by the rigid, carefully impassive expression on Xris's face that he was fighting the same inner battle.

  She glanced at Sparafucile, saw him staring at the Corasians, the malformed face thoughtful.

  "These things have made my lord captive?" asked Sparafucile, voice low. The fiery red bodies gleamed brightly in the reptilelike eyes.

  "Along with Abdiel, yes," answered Maigrey, surprised at the question, wondering uneasily what lay beneath it.

  But the half-breed only nodded silently, impassively.

  Whatever it was, she couldn't worry about it now. She walked forward to greet the enemy.

  The Corasians trundled through the ship, inspecting the "cargo," paying at least as much attention to the technology aboard as to the living flesh and blood. The luxury liner offered little in the way of technological breakthroughs and Maigrey gathered—from their silence—that the soldiers were not impressed.

  The human cargo passed inspection. Sparafucile opened the doors to all the cabins, permitting the Corasians to peer inside. Since they had no eyes, Maigrey wasn't certain what they saw, but presumably they were able to sense the life-forms slumbering peacefully, without any notion of the danger lurking near. What would it be like for these poor wretches, if they woke to find themselves in the Corasian version of a meat locker?

  Maigrey pushed the thought from her mind. She had her own worries. The Corasians were quite capable of offering to pay her off, transfer the human cargo to their own ship, and order her out of the galaxy. And that was supposing that they kept their part of the bargain. They were also quite capable of taking her and her people prisoner. Agis could be trusted to put a swift end to their captivity, however.

  Maigrey had counted on Corasians wanting the ship, for spare parts, if nothing else. She was trying desperately to think up some tempting he to tell them about the nuclear reactors, anything to get them to permit her to take the liner farther into the galaxy's interior, when the Corasians and their hosts entered the gambling casino.

  "What is this machine?" one of the Corasians demanded in its squeaky, simulated voice.

  Preoccupied, Maigrey barely glanced at it. "A roulette wheel."

  "What is its function?"

  Maigrey, whose knowledge of games began with chess and ended with bridge, looked at Xris. The cyborg coolly explained the nature of the game, the operation of the computer-controlled wheel, and gave the soldiers a demonstration.

  The concept of gambling had, apparently, never occurred to the collective mind. Xris spent the next hour explaining the workings of every machine in the casino to the fascinated Corasians. Maigrey breathed easier, began to think they might pull this off, after all.

  "Do we have a deal?" she asked, the tour of inspection complete.

  They were on the engineering deck, heading for the docking bay and the Corasian shuttlecraft. "We'll transport the cargo and the liner into the interior for you—"

  "That won't be necessary," said the soldier, its voice flat, mechanical. "You will turn the ship and the cargo over to us now. You have your spaceplanes. You will leave in those. We will escort you safely to the perimeter."<
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  Maigrey and Xris exchanged glances over the robotic heads of the Corasians. This was precisely what they didn't want.

  "Very well," said Maigrey slowly, considering. "You will give us our money now."

  The Corasians, it seemed, had to contact the collective brain, for they were all silent long moments, the lights on their robot casings flickering and fading as they withdrew their thoughts from their bodies' functions. The lights winked back brightly.

  "That is not possible," replied the soldier. "We have nothing of what you term 'money' on board our mother ship. The sum you require will be credited to your account in whichever currency of your galaxy you find preferable."

  It would be interesting, Maigrey thought, to know just how they come by that money.

  "And what happens if payment isn't made? We fly back and sue you?"

  "We do not understand—"

  "That's damn obvious!" Maigrey folded her arms across her chest. "Look, we're out a lot of cash for this operation. We want payment and we want it before we go. If you can't give us cash, then give us permission to take our cargo into the interior, find someone who can."

  The Corasian again consulted the collective mind. Maigrey held her breath.

  "What is that?" the soldier said suddenly, robotic head swiveling. "Life-form readings."

  "What's that got to do—"

  The soldier's head pivoted toward the captain's berth. "There are other life-forms aboard this ship which you have not shown us."

  "It's only the ship's captain and her guard. We had to take her prisoner, of course. She's drugged. Now what about our money? Do we have a deal or—?"

  "We would like to see these life-forms."

  Maigrey eyed the Corasians, tried to determine if this was a trick, stalling for time. Or were they merely exerting their authority? There was really no good reason why the Corasians shouldn't see the captain and Brother Daniel. Just as there was no good reason why they should. Maigrey didn't like it.

  "Xris, the door," she ordered.

  The cyborg did as commanded, opening the door—with his good hand, Maigrey noted. Small beeps and tiny bright flashes indicated he was giving his weapons hand a system check.

  Maigrey entered, cast a swift warning glance at Brother Daniel. The priest rose to his feet, took an involuntary step nearer the bed. Captain Corbett was groggily alert, fear and outrage successfully combating the effects of the drug.

  "Hullo, bitch," Tomi slurred. "What's the occasion?"

  Maigrey took her place at the foot of the bed, turned to face the Corasian that rolled rapidly into the room. She heard the captain suck in a shocked, frightened breath, heard Brother Daniel murmur something reassuring.

  I wish someone would say something reassuring to me, Maigrey thought bitterly and irrationally. She was tense, nervous. The soldier was up to something and she had no idea what.

  Sparafucile glided silently in after Maigrey, stood near the bathroom opposite the bed. Xris took his place by the door, lounging against it, but actually blocking, with his body, the seven other Corasian soldiers who remained standing in the corridor. The green and yellow lights on his weapons arm had all shifted color to red.

  The Corasian soldier trundled near the foot of the bed.

  "We will have this one," it said.

  The lights in the robot head winked off, the robotic arms froze, fixed and locked in position. The soldier's steelglass case cracked wide open, down the front. The flaming red ameboid body oozed out and slid to the floor. Moving slowly and deliberately, it crawled across the room toward the bed.

  Tomi dragged herself backward, scrabbling with her elbows and pushing with her legs. "Take these things off me, Daniel!" she gasped. "Don't let me die like this! Help me, Daniel! Please, help me."

  The priest was staring in shock at the Corasian, moving relentlessly forward. The body was like a horrible blob of fire that pulsed and breathed with intelligent, terrible life.

  "Daniel! Take these off—"

  The priest turned toward her.

  Maigrey made a swift gesture. Sparafucile left his post, glided round the bed to the far side. He clapped one hand over Tomi's mouth, held a knife to her throat with the other.

  The captain ceased to struggle. Her body froze, terror-filled eyes on the Corasian that was drawing closer with every breath.

  Brother Daniel's motion was arrested by the warning in the half-breed's eyes. "Back away from bed!" the half-breed mouthed.

  Tomi moaned in her throat, the black eyes shifted for an instant from the Corasian to the priest. She moaned again, her gaze pleading, desperate.

  Sparafucile clasped his hand tighter, the flashing blade rested on the dark brown skin of the woman's neck.

  "Back away!" he snarled silently. "Trust lady!"

  Brother Daniel, pale and trembling, looked from Tomi to Maigrey. Head bowed, he did as he was told, shrank back against the wall.

  The Corasian was within half a meter's distance from the bottom of the bed. Maigrey took a step forward, stood in front of it, placed herself between the soldier and the helpless woman.

  "No free samples," Maigrey said. "We want our money."

  The fiery mass edged nearer the toes of Maigrey's boots.

  She had little fear for herself. She had the bloodsword, the needles were already jabbed in the palm of her hand. Xris's weapons arm was lined up, fingers aiming directly at the other Corasians in the corridor. His men—waiting in the wings, alert for his signal—could be counted on to take care of any that escaped the cyborg's missiles. But being forced to kill these Corasians would seriously hamper, if not Outright destroy, her plans.

  "Back off," she said. "Or the deal's ended."

  The Corasians body quivered, heaved, then suddenly reversed direction, flowed back across the deck. Reaching its robot case, it oozed its way inside.

  "Now," she continued coolly, "about the money—"

  The robot head came to life, the case snapped shut with a click. "We do not understand this concept of money. You risk life for it, for a thing that can be of no value to you after death. You sell us secrets of technology in return for it—secrets that must eventually mean your galaxy's doom. You even sell each other for it."

  "It's what's made us what we are today. Well?"

  "Your terms will be met. We will provide you with coordinates and an escort to your destination."

  "Good." Maigrey limited herself to that one syllable, afraid the relief would sound in her voice if she said more. An escort would be a nuisance, but one that could be managed.

  The soldier pivoted on its wheels, headed for die door. It rolled past Xris, whose weapons arm slowly lowered to his side. The Corasian rejoined its fellows in the corridor.

  "We will now return to our mother ship," it said.

  Maigrey glanced back at Sparafucile. The assassin removed his hand from Tomi's mouth, the knife from her throat. Flicking the blade shut, sliding it into some dark recess in his rags, the half-breed grinned and glided over to join Maigrey, who was heading for the door.

  Tomi gasped, shuddered, gulped in air. "Wait!" she managed to call out Maigrey paused, looked back, stopped. "Go on ahead," she ordered Xris and Sparafucile. "I'll catch up to you in a moment. Well"—hand on the bloodsword, she turned toward the captain—"what is it?"

  "You saved my life," Tomi said, her tone sullen, disbelieving. "At the risk of your own? Why? Why didn't you just let that thing have me?"

  Maigrey studied the woman, gaze calm, cool. "I could have. I thought about it. And if it's any comfort to you, Captain, saving you wasn't a noble gesture on my part. I acted out of necessity. They were testing me, wanted to see if I was serious. I am, Captain. I assure you. I am."

  "I'm glad to know it, bitch." Tomi's head fell back onto the pillow. Her eyes closed, the reaction to her ordeal setting in. "I was afraid I was going to have to . . . reevaluate my opinion . . . of you."

  Maigrey smiled, the smile that twisted the scar on her face. "Brother Daniel, a wor
d with you."

  The priest crossed the room, came to stand near her.

  "No more injections," Maigrey told him, talking in an undertone. "We'll be at our destination in about two days time. Raoul says it will take that long for the effects of the drug to wear off completely. She's got to be alert, by then, capable of resuming command."

  "Yes, my lady."

  "Keep the paralyzers on her, though. God knows what she'd try if she were loose."

  "Yes, my lady. What if she wants to know the reason why? What do I tell her?"

  "I don't know," Maigrey snapped. She was suddenly tired, felt drained, empty. She wanted to be alone, shut herself up in her room. "Let her think she's gotten to you, maybe."

  "Yes, my lady. And . . .• thank you, my lady. What you did—" His voice, earnest, trembling, broke.

  "What I did I did for the reasons I said I did, Brother Daniel," Maigrey told him wearily. "Don't go sentimental on me. Now, return to your post."

  The priest did as he was told. But his glance, as he left her, was filled with awe and admiration.

  Maigrey was strongly tempted to hit him.

  She stalked out the door, slammed her hand against the controls, shutting it behind her. If only he knew how close she'd come to letting the Corasian have the woman. If only any of them knew how seriously she'd considered it. . . .

  Maigrey walked past her room with a brief longing glance. Returning to the bridge, she informed Agis of their status, received Xris's report on the status of the Corasians, who had left the ship without further incident.

  Outside the viewscreen, the stars of the strange and alien galaxy glittered brightly. The Corasian mother ship began to withdraw, the small Corasian spaceplanes ended their web building, returned home, with the exception of those detailed to stay behind, act as escort.

  Maigrey stared at it, saw none of it. She saw only the abyss.

  Chapter Three

  An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?

  William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene 1