‘Exactly,’ Zeven concurred. ‘So we need him feeling like this …’ He pointed to Khalid who was still laughing at his own clumsy attempt to wade out of the water. ‘When he’s not high on monkey venom.’
Vadik’s frown deepened. ‘I don’t know if that’s possible?’
‘I know it’s a tough assignment,’ Zeven granted, ‘but it’s a vital one. If you doubt your own patience in this matter —’
‘No,’ Vadik insisted. ‘I want in on your rebellion, and if this is what it takes …’ He looked back at Khalid as he collapsed back on shore exhausted from the outpouring of joy. ‘I accept the challenge.’ Vadik was grinning like he knew he could garner some satisfaction from the exercise, which was a worry.
‘I’ll be here to supervise,’ Telmo reassured Zeven, who with a thought was dressed and dry once more. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘To finish piecing the jigsaw together,’ he advised.
‘Don’t go,’ Khalid demanded — the venom must have been wearing off. ‘I want to talk to you.’
‘And I you,’ Zeven replied. ‘But first —’ He mentally honed in on Jalila Lamus, and willed to join her.
‘Don’t fucking disappear again —’
Zeven joined the acting prime minister of Phemoria in her office and Taren was with her. These two women had a lot to talk about, but oddly they were both seated, lost in quiet contemplation when he arrived.
‘So what’s news?’ He announced his arrival, whereupon they both snapped to attention and rose. ‘Did you find him?’
‘We did,’ Jalila said in a circumspect fashion, ‘and he lives …’
‘But?’ Zeven invited Jalila to voice her concerns.
‘Understandably, he is mentally, emotionally and physically scarred from his stay in prison,’ the Phemorian leader explained, as Taren approached to show him some footage of the subject that she had stored in her communicator.
The man appeared completely feral, emaciated, and there was not one part of his body that was not covered in festering wounds.
‘How is this man still alive?’ Zeven was shocked by the images.
‘Apparently, if the Dropa take a physical human form, they are immortal and cannot die.’ Jalila implied that she had only just discovered this.
‘So he would have remained imprisoned in this sorry state forevermore?’ Zeven was a little riled to learn this, and Jalila appeared regretful too.
‘This is not the prime minister’s fault, or anybody’s; the Phemoray were the only ones privy to this information,’ Taren politely reminded him, but Zeven was still hot under the collar.
‘Valoureans did this to him?’
‘No,’ Jalila refuted the blame. ‘All the festering wounds you see were self inflicted.’
‘Ringbalin is with him now,’ Taren advised, ‘so at least his physical scars can be healed.’
Zeven scoffed, and shook his head. He didn’t buy the self-inflicted injury part of the tale. ‘Does this unfortunate have a name?’
‘Kaveh Ahura Mazida,’ Jalila informed, ‘which in the old tongue means royal lord of light, truth and goodness. But following the incident with our late Qusay, he was known as Angra Mainyu, the evil spirit. The name change was of his own choosing, I am told.’
Zeven was even more sceptical, but calmed down, realising that laying blame was not going to be beneficial. ‘May I see the man in question, please.’
‘I need to speak with you privately first.’ Taren waylaid the proceedings.
‘I’ll leave you my office.’ Jalila moved to exit.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Taren politely declined — no doubt fearing the office might be bugged or under security surveillance — and looked to her cousin. ‘Follow me.’
‘To the end of creation.’ Zeven wanted to roll his eyes, knowing he was in for a grilling.
‘We’ll be back, presently,’ Taren advised Jalila and vanished.
‘I am very sorry about this oversight,’ Jalila said to Zeven before he departed. ‘I intend to have the entire prison system reviewed in the wake of the Phemoray, as I realise there will be others who have been wrongly incarcerated at their command.’
‘Good will come of all this, no doubt.’ Zeven wanted to encourage her efforts.
Knowledge of Khalid’s heritage and his true father had not come to light the last time they had all lived through these events, and the silver lining was that it only confirmed to Zeven that he’d done the right thing taking on this personal mission. Now to convince Taren of that.
With no clue where Taren was leading him, Zeven was rather surprised to find himself in Taren’s security apartment on Maladaan — they hadn’t been here since becoming involved in the AMIE project.
‘You still keep this place?’ Zeven ran his finger along a side table covered in dust. ‘It hasn’t changed a bit in what? Six years?’
‘About that.’ Taren was clearly not in the mood for a trip down memory lane. ‘Did you assist Khalid’s escape from prison?’
‘Yep. He was going to escape anyway.’ Zeven shrugged off the event and headed into the kitchen. ‘You got any coffee?’ He turned about to find a freshly made cappuccino in a take-away container, floating before his eyes. ‘Oh, cheers.’ He took hold of the beverage, and had a sip.
‘Do you plan to kill him?’
Zeven was so shocked by the question, his coffee near came out his nose. ‘What? No!’ he spluttered, between gasps for breath.
‘Sorry.’ Taren seemed delighted to see how abhorrent he found the premise. ‘So what is the plan?’
‘To rehabilitate him, of course.’ Zeven put the coffee down and flicked the spillage from his person.
‘You are psychotic!’ Taren appealed with dramatic flair. ‘This is the man who tried to kill you as a baby. Do you really expect me to believe —’
‘Yes. I do,’ Zeven roared, in his own defence. ‘That was not Khalid! That was Chironjivi and his horde. Khalid has been cursed since the day he was born … don’t you have to wonder why? And I’m talking in the greater scheme of things here … why did creation choose him to carry such a horrific burden?’
Taren was obviously surprised by the gusto he put into Khalid’s defence. ‘You’re right, that is a very good question. And that’s why you are seeking Khalid’s father?’
‘You got it.’ Zeven retrieved his coffee to take another stab at drinking some of it.
‘How did you find out about him?’ Taren conjured herself up a cup of tea.
‘Ah yes.’ Zeven pulled the archaic memory disk from his pocket.
Taren laughed. ‘I haven’t seen one of those in a long time! What’s on it?’
‘Maiara spouting prophecy the night I was born.’ Zeven watched Taren’s eyes light up with curiosity.
‘Someone recorded the event?’
‘Indeed.’ Zeven was not as excited by the fact now. ‘The same woman who saw to it that the item reached my hands, before taking her own life.’
Taren gasped. ‘In front of you?’
Zeven winced. ‘Your quest for detail is really morbid sometimes, just saying.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean —’ Taren waved off a full explanation, not to be sidetracked. ‘Whose plan was it to save Khalid’s soul?’
‘It was mine,’ Zeven admitted. ‘You didn’t send me on this mission, I chose to do this on my own. But then, I was the one prophesied to do so.’
Taren couldn’t argue. ‘And Telmo?’
‘He believed in the cause and followed suit.’ Zeven took a seat on the lounge in a puff of dust. ‘See, Khalid got sucked into that other universe with us. Severed from his demons, he was a different person and was recruited by the timekeepers. But there was —’
Taren burst out laughing at this point. ‘I’m sorry,’ she attempted to rein in her amusement. ‘But do you know how improbable that sounds?’
‘I don’t care!’ Zeven stated frankly. ‘Khalid has been a good friend to all of us in the future, and you not remembering
that doesn’t change the fact that this is the right thing to do.’
‘What about Chironjivi?’ Taren probed — Khalid aside, she knew they still had the curse to contend with.
‘That entity is contained for the moment,’ Zeven was happy to report. ‘And I know what is required to lay that ghost to rest permanently. But you have to give me some time to pull all the elements together.’
Taren mused upon his appeal, and sipped her tea. ‘Anything we can do to assist?’
‘No,’ was Zeven’s first reaction, but then he reconsidered. ‘AMIE might want to explore Oceane’s star system in a bit more depth, however.’
‘What are we looking for?’
Zeven shrugged. ‘Of all the inter-system gateways, that one was the first built, and the only one the Dropa shut down. Why?’
‘To protect Oceane and the celestial architect at work there,’ Taren supposed. ‘But admittedly we’ve always been so caught up in what is going on on Oceane that we’ve not explored the rest of the system.’
‘This could be a good opportunity,’ Zeven explained, ‘as the next few years are fairly uneventful for AMIE, especially now that Khalid is under watchful eyes.’
‘But what about the psychics being tracked down and persecuted on Maladaan, thanks to a photon counter I invented?’ Taren was clearly not prepared to let that ride.
‘Kalayna will come up with a clever way to solve that problem without anyone ever having to leave AMIE.’ Zeven finished up his coffee and tossed the container aside, where it vanished.
‘Serious?’ Taren was impressed by the claim, and disposed of her cup in the same fashion.
With a nod to confirm she had nothing to worry about, Zeven stood to appeal, ‘So may I please get on now?’
‘This project of yours could take years, you realise?’
‘Even that’s a little optimistic, especially if you keep delaying me,’ Zeven quipped, and Taren served him an unamused look. ‘But worth it, if we can get through D-day on Oceane without incident.’
‘So there was an incident last time,’ Taren deduced, ‘with the being’s departure from this universe?’
‘That has already been averted by my actions … sheesh!’ Zeven threw his hands up.
‘Sorry!’ Taren raised both hands in truce. ‘I have Lucian on my back and we owe him some answers.’
‘Then let’s get some, shall we?’ Zeven forced a grin and vanished back to Phemoria, eager to meet with the Kaveh Ahura Mazida.
When Zeven and Taren rejoined Jalila Lamus, she was consulting with Ringbalin inside the mental institution that sistered the Phemorian prison in Tonissia. Ringbalin was wavering in his stance, appearing completely exhausted as he noted their arrival.
‘I’ve done what all I can, and physically he is healed,’ he reported. ‘But I cannot fix his mental anguish; perhaps you should call in Amie?’ The healer’s legs nearly went from beneath him, and Taren and Zeven were quick to support him and guide him to the closest seat.
‘Healing doesn’t usually take it out of you like this,’ Taren noted, sitting beside him.
‘Usually patients want to be healed, but this man was fighting me all the way,’ Ringbalin said. ‘No sooner had I healed him than he was scratching his wounds with his own fingernails.’
‘We’ve had to strap him down,’ Jalila advised.
‘Has he been sedated?’ Zeven was concerned.
‘No,’ Jalila said. ‘I thought you would like him coherent. Or at least as coherent as he can be … I am afraid he is quite mad.’
‘We can’t bring Amie in to rework his horrible memories,’ Zeven was sorry to inform Ringbalin. ‘I need his memory intact.’
‘Then I don’t know what to suggest.’ Ringbalin barely had the energy to keep his eyes open.
‘You’ve done well,’ Taren advised their botanist-cum-biologist. ‘I’m going to take you home to rest.’ Taren took hold of his arm to teleport Ringbalin with her. ‘Zeven can take over here.’
‘Before you do,’ Jalila addressed Ringbalin, ‘I just wanted to thank you for staying my hand earlier today. You were right, you are all the answer to my greatest wish.’
Zeven had not been present when most of the AMIE team had lifted the Qusay of Phemoria’s curse earlier today, but obviously Ringbalin had worked his charms on Jalila; the healer’s gentle ways seemed to cast a spell over every woman, even when he wasn’t trying.
‘It is an extraordinary man who can dissuade a Phemorian from her sworn duty,’ the prime minister awarded, obviously quite taken with him.
‘As you now realise, I have an unfair advantage in that regard,’ Ringbalin downplayed the praise, as was his way. ‘But all shall be well with your people, as promised … I believe your good self and …’ he looked to Taren, ‘the boss, will see to that.’
‘You have played a very large part in today’s events.’ Taren would not allow him to forgo his due. ‘So much so, that we’ve utterly drained you!’
‘I am grateful to be finally able to use this talent for the greater good and not just my own personal advancement,’ he insisted. ‘My vitality will be easily replenished in my greenhouse.’
‘I should love to see your greenhouse in space,’ Jalila posed. ‘It must be quite something to be so invigorating.’
‘It would be my honour to give you the tour, Prime Minister.’ Ringbalin was being polite, but Zeven was not entirely sure that was the message Jalila was receiving.
‘I shall look forward to that,’ she accepted, and even Taren was looking a little concerned.
‘We should go,’ Taren decided, for even jaded as he was, Ringbalin was suddenly exuding a very amorous vibration.
At this point in time Ringbalin had not been on board AMIE long enough to realise that their Phemorian marine biologist was slowly falling in love with him, and Ringbalin was far too modest to aspire to seducing a Phemorian. He felt it was his ability to influence emotions that had women falling at his feet all the time, and could never truly believe he’d won their affection fairly. What Ringbalin failed to take into consideration was that it was the fact that he had the capacity to exude such emotional love and healing that was the big attraction. Phemorian women had a common belief that all men were emotional amoebas — Ringbalin was clear proof that this was not the case, and Zeven felt this was why Phemorians in particular seemed to find the young, effeminate horticulturist so attractive. Two Phemorian women fighting over the same man was completely unheard of in this day and age, and Zeven imagined it would not be a pretty sight to see. He felt Taren was thinking exactly the same thing.
‘Keep me informed,’ she requested Zeven, ahead of vanishing with Ringbalin and effectively removing him from the new prime minister’s emotional sphere.
Still the good mood lingered on the leader’s face after their departure, even when Zeven no longer felt Ringbalin’s attractive influence. ‘Your crew are truly extraordinary; wherever did you find and recruit them all?’
‘You could say a higher power brought us together,’ was all Zeven would say. ‘Some things are just fated.’
‘Indeed,’ Jalila agreed, suppressing her good mood. ‘This entire day has seemed most serendipitous.’ She said this as though she was not entirely sure that these events were just a happy coincidence; perhaps she’d drawn more from his thoughts earlier than she had let on?
After passing through several security doors, they came to stand before the cell of the Kaveh Ahura Mazida. ‘I can take it from here,’ Zeven informed her. ‘I request this man be released into my protective custody.’
‘Might I ask what you intend to do with him?’ Jalila was understandably curious.
‘Repair him,’ Zeven answered simply. ‘Then perhaps Phemoria can make peace with the Dropa.’
‘Why is that so important to you?’ she probed.
‘It is the quest of the Zagriata to restore peace and order everywhere, not just within the USS,’ he advised cryptically.
‘But you only learned of th
is rift today.’ She found the response perplexing.
‘Better late than never,’ Zeven concurred, but Jalila was still ill at ease.
‘Very well,’ she granted, ‘but I wish to be kept informed of his whereabouts and progress.’
‘Taren Lennox is the one to discuss terms with, I am only acting on her behalf.’ Zeven attempted to avoid causing offence, but the look on the Phemorian’s face told him he had failed. ‘But if your sisters, trapped in the celestial realms, are to be released, Taren will not allow that portal to be closed before this injustice has been rectified. Understand we have no political aspirations; the Zagriata are only concerned with the affairs of the spirit and of humanity’s evolution as a whole. All that is needed to achieve our ends is to bring to light the misdeeds and lies of the past, then the USS can secure a more well-informed future for all.’
Jalila was only mildly appeased by his assurance. ‘You have no idea what this being is capable of. If he returns seeking vengeance —’
‘He will not.’ Zeven was quite sure about that. ‘And you are wrong, I have a very good idea of what this being is capable of and it’s all good.’
‘What is that supposed to mean? Were you not listening when I spoke of what he did to our late Qusay?’ Jalila challenged.
‘He was possessed of a curse at that time,’ Zeven enlightened her.
‘How —’
‘— do I know he is not still possessed by it?’ Zeven pre-empted her query, and Jalila nodded. ‘Because I have the curse contained elsewhere.’
Jalila gasped, stunned by his claim.
‘So, although you may find it difficult to trust me, perhaps you could at least trust that I know what I am doing, or your new princess would not have given me charge of this matter.’
‘Far be it from me to obstruct the plans of the Zagriata,’ Jalila finally conceded, opening the security coded lock of the door for him. ‘The prisoner is yours.’
‘Gratitude.’ Zeven pushed the door open, whereupon the ramblings and anguished cries of the sole occupant could be heard.
‘Good luck with your quest.’ Jalila backed away to depart, with an air of cynicism in her smile. ‘I think you are going to need it.’
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