AWOL

by Traci Harding

  Everyone in the room took a step away from Mythric, except for Vadik, who took a threatening step towards him.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Mythric had assisted Taren to make Vadik disappear off the MSS radar, so he knew who he was.

  ‘To protect the boss’s interests,’ Vadik advised in a distrustful manner.

  ‘Satomi will be seeking Zeven and Thurraya.’ Taren queried Mythric’s motive, which to her mind was more in doubt than Vadik’s loyalty at this point.

  ‘Absolutely correct,’ Mythric confirmed. ‘She has given me one Phemorian day to find Thurraya, Chironjivi’s curse, and bring the rest of the AMIE crew to her court, before she starts killing those members of our crew that she has incarcerated.’

  Taren lost her ability to breathe as the threat sunk in. ‘And if she has released you to do this, she shall be guarding her prisoners twice as closely.’

  ‘That’s exactly right,’ Mythric concurred. ‘So if you would like to assist me with any of this, I would be most obliged. Where are Zeven and my granddaughter?’

  ‘They’ve been sucked into another dimension,’ Trance piped up to inform him rather casually.

  ‘Who are you?’ Mythric queried.

  ‘Another orphan your Grand Mai fostered,’ Trance advised, but Mythric was already looking to Taren for answers.

  ‘What is he talking about?’ Mythric pushed.

  ‘It’s true. Zeven took Khalid to Oceane in the hope of healing him —’

  ‘I know that part,’ Mythric attempted to speed her explanation along.

  ‘Khalid’s blood opened a portal to another realm of existence. All in Zeven’s company appear to have entered and not yet returned.’

  ‘And you are not concerned by this?’ Mythric was clearly alarmed.

  ‘Of course I am concerned,’ Taren stressed. ‘Lucian has gone through the portal after them to investigate.’

  ‘But word is that the captain was killed when the ship was destroyed?’ Mythric attempted to sort fact from fiction.

  ‘He was killed.’ Taren swallowed hard in the wake of the bitter statement. ‘We submitted his body to stasis, where Satomi’s body once lay. His spirit was the only one of us who could traverse the collapsing portal between worlds. That was late yesterday, I’ve heard nothing since.’

  Mythric’s eyes glazed over as he processed the information. ‘How am I going to deliver them to Phemoria tomorrow?’

  ‘Who gives a fuck about tomorrow, if we rescue the hostages today!’ Vadik voiced his view very clearly. ‘They are not even going to see us!’ Vadik did Taren’s vanishing trick, and seconds later Mythric was startled by a tap from someone he couldn’t see.

  ‘You’re invisible.’ Mythric was stunned as Vadik had not possessed any of the kinetic abilities the last time they’d met. ‘I must learn to do that.’

  ‘It’s really not that difficult,’ Taren advised. ‘You just have to remain focused.’

  ‘I can see him,’ Trance held up a finger to confess, whereupon Vadik made himself visible again so that his frown could be seen. ‘The Valoureans will have clairvoyants among their ranks, so that plan is not foolproof.’

  ‘Same with me?’ Taren vanished, feeling she would fare better as she was wearing a Juju stone.

  Trance frowned. ‘I can’t see your form just a whole lot of light.’

  ‘Shit!’ Taren appeared once more.

  ‘You’d need a hands-off impressionist to mask your presence altogether,’ Trance advised.

  ‘Amie is an impressionist, but I don’t know if she can do it remotely, without contact. I have done it too, but I need contact.’ Taren pored over their options.

  ‘Amie’s Power will not return immediately upon having her restraint removed,’ Mythric advised. ‘Although the Juju does speed the restoration process.’

  ‘Still,’ Trance noted, ‘you do have emo-boy here.’ He motioned to Ringbalin. ‘Who can just charm them all into submission.’

  Taren smiled at this. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

  Ringbalin forced an unconfident grin, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t remember any of those instances, so they don’t really count. And if anything should happen to —’

  They all stood awaiting his conclusion, as he rethought it.

  ‘— anyone I care about,’ he finally phrased his point, ‘then I may not be so charming.’

  ‘Even psychically restrained, our crew are very resourceful,’ Taren returned the encouragement he’d given her earlier today. ‘I’m sure we are not the only ones making plans for their release.’

  ‘So we are doing this?’ Vadik was still keen on the idea.

  Taren looked to Mythric for his thoughts.

  ‘In this other universe my son claims you have visited, what name was I known by?’

  The query came right out of left field for Taren, but she was happy to answer. ‘You had many lives there and many incarnations, but the one I remember best is Rhun.’

  The information seemed to pain him and bring him joy all at once. ‘The captain is mendable, just as Satomi was, if we can get Ringbalin and Swithin to him.’ He got straight in his mind what Taren already knew, and he nodded to confirm his reasoning.

  ‘The ship I have restored,’ she added to assure him that she held no bitterness towards Satomi. ‘I understand why she has done what she has, but I want you to know that were I in the same position, I would not have killed you to spite her.’

  ‘And that is what sets your course of action apart from hers,’ Mythric realised, finding his truth a little regrettable. ‘The way I see it, Satomi can’t do anything else she will regret if our crew are safe with us.’

  The pain of Lucian’s death was difficult to swallow, but Taren forced a smile and nodded to concur with his reasoning.

  ‘I’m so sorry this has happened.’ Mythric’s eyes were brimming with tears. ‘Could we just go back to that fateful dinner party and put Thurraya to bed early?’

  ‘If only it were that simple.’ Taren had contemplated the same thing herself. ‘But I couldn’t handle all this again, half of which I am still in the dark about! I have to trust Zeven is coming through for us. I’ve never seen him more passionate about anything as he has been about defending Khalid.’

  ‘He doesn’t know what has befallen us here.’ Mythric was not so optimistic.

  ‘If Lucian found him, he does.’ Taren bit her lip. ‘We just need to get our crew clear and buy us all some time.’

  ‘You are just completely fucking insane, aren’t you?’ Trance fronted up to Taren to point out. ‘My Lord Vidor,’ Trance motioned to Mythric, ‘has just told you that he’s supposed to deliver the remaining crew, i.e. us, to the Qusay of Phemoria, i.e. his wife, and you’re still more than happy to allow him to aid you to break into a Phemorian prison to release your crew … does this not scream trap to you?’

  ‘You don’t have to worry, as you won’t be coming,’ she advised, thus his opinion ceased to matter.

  ‘I thought you said you needed me.’ Trance was deflated.

  ‘When Lucian gets back, I will,’ Taren clarified. ‘Until then you can stay put in case the captain or Zeven try to make contact.’

  ‘You’re just going to leave me here?’ He motioned out the front shield window to the deep depths of the ocean of an alien planet, where no one would ever find him. ‘What if you are captured?’

  ‘Well then, we’ll be sure and let someone know you’re here.’

  ‘And what if you’re all killed?’ Trance was not reassured.

  ‘Do you ever stop worrying about your own skin?’ Vadik came and stood over Trance.

  ‘You’re really not helping me with that.’ Trance shrank into a seat.

  ‘How about I just kill you now and save you any further worry?’ Vadik offered.

  ‘I’m good.’ Trance waved them goodbye and Vadik backed off to follow Taren from the flight deck to suit up for the mission. ‘I suppose if I get really stuck I could just hack the sy
stem and teach myself how to fly this thing?’ He turned his seat around to face the workstation before him, and began clicking away.

  ‘You’re a hacker?’ Taren’s interest was piqued as she returned to his company, grinning.

  ‘No,’ Trance admitted, both flattered and concerned by her sudden interest. ‘But one of my spirit contacts was something of a hacktivist.’

  Taren’s expression was a little tortured as she slapped a hand down upon his shoulder. ‘Looks like I can use you after all.’

  In the remote wilds of Phemoria’s deepest jungle, where it rained a good part of the year, lay the remains of a once grand civilisation. The origins of these ruins harked back to before the time of the sexual revolution and the male-dominated oppression that had spawned that revolt, to a time when the sexes had lived in harmony on Phemoria and worshipped nature, the sun and stars. The jungle had swallowed up much of the outer city dwellings, but the central palace still stood. Although looted and stripped of its riches long ago, the motif carved into the stone walls and columns still remained, as a reminder of how joyful and harmonious life had once been here.

  The general thought the artwork sad and rolled her eyes every time she viewed the pictures of men and women lovingly entwined. ‘Fucking deluded,’ she would say. She hated this place, but as it was inaccessible to anyone who didn’t have PK, and only very few Phemorians knew it existed at all, it was the perfect place to hide the Soul Keep. The main room of court here was very dark, which was a requirement if one did not want to weaken the ghostly crew’s already depleted power.

  As Prochazka entered the dark chamber, she desired all the torches therein to light up, and it was so. The general did not break her stride until she reached the centre of the chamber. ‘You are all fucking useless ectoplasm!’ she insisted as she came to a standstill and her voice echoed around the seemingly empty space.

  A wind stirred in the still chamber, and then whipped around the room. ‘Did you not find the vessel you sought, General?’ the entity asked in many harsh, muffled voices.

  Once upon a time she could not see or hear the ghostly crew; she’d had to rely on that rotting pile of flesh and bone they’d once called their leader to convey their sentiments. Since then she had learned that the crew could make themselves seen or heard as desired; it was getting them to respond when they didn’t wish to that was more difficult. But since the true Qusay had taken her advice and passed on her genetic code to all her shapeshifters, Prochazka included, she had many psychic abilities she’d not had access to before — like the kinetic arts and clairvoyance. Her psychic sight was underdeveloped and she only saw brief flashes of the spectres. She heard more than saw them.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ she replied winningly. ‘But Thurraya Vidor and her parents were not on it!’

  ‘Not our fault,’ came the reply, as the spirits of the dead men circled around her.

  ‘I have told you the true names of the ones I seek; why can you not locate them?’ Prochazka demanded.

  ‘For the same reason you can’t: their light is too bright, we cannot stand in its presence. We can spot their light shield but cannot see into it to define who or what is inside. And the planet they are hovering near is all light!’

  The reply only pissed her off. ‘Then what use are you? I may as well cast this vat into the closest galactic centre and be rid of your curse!’

  She had led them to believe that she had laid claim to their curse to further her own ends — and not to seek revenge for the last time they had betrayed her — and that was true, in so far as her ends were whatever served Phemoria.

  ‘We are weak, General,’ the horde defended. ‘We need sustenance to fortify our darkness, only then do we stand a chance to penetrate the light on Oceane and see what lies beneath.’

  ‘Don’t make me repeat myself,’ she cautioned. ‘I am not going to feed you Phemorians!’

  ‘Then don’t feed us Phemorians,’ the ghosts suggested. ‘There are three other planets full of females; you have prisoners at your disposal — exploit some of them for the sake of your mission.’

  ‘Men spill blood just as readily,’ she suggested.

  ‘We have plenty of male souls already!’ they hissed in revolt. ‘We need women, GIRLS! Little girls! Babies, even better!’

  ‘Fuck you and your fucked up perversions!’ She served them all the finger, which just happened to be the digit sporting the ring that bound the ghostly crew to her in obedience. Once upon a time the ring had only protected her from the evil force, now it did as it was always supposed to do. She had learned from past failures and would not be hoodwinked again. She saw no point in continuing this conversation, and headed for the exit.

  ‘A patron is supposed to supply sustenance or how can service be rendered! If you seek to squander our power, we shall align to another more cooperative, to whom we can be of true service.’

  t‘You can only serve one patron at once, Chironjivi taught me that.’ Prochazka brushed off the threat. ‘So while I have your ring, I guess you are all screwed.’

  ‘For you to seek us out you must also be pretty screwed!’ they bantered, still confident of swaying her moral code towards her own sex. ‘See you soon, General,’ the ghostly crew taunted. ‘When you run out of options.’

  As Prochazka strode out of the central palace chamber and into the natural light of the drizzly day, she extinguished the torches in her wake. The crew’s taunt made her furious — she was fast running out of options.

  Out of the crew she had captured, Spyridon Vidor was bound to know more about his son’s movements than the rest of their AMIE captives, and her Valoureans had learned nothing from him. If he failed to deliver the Qusay the rest of the crew still at large then Prochazka held little hope that any of the AMIE prisoners would prove any more helpful in their hunt for Satomi’s heir.

  Still, she also knew better than to assume anything, or to sit idly by and wait for the outcome. Despite her Qusay’s wish that the crew of AMIE be left alive in the wake of their interrogation, if one or two accidentally died or vanished Prochazka felt confident of being able to offer up a valid excuse for the bungle.

  Upon returning to the security station inside the psychic prison complex where the women of AMIE were being held, the general consulted the Valoureans on duty. ‘Are any of the prisoners giving you trouble?’

  ‘This one, Kalayna Zuri,’ her lieutenant advised, bringing up her file on the database. ‘We’ve had to shift her to another cell as she claims she’s not part of the crew, but was kidnapped by them.’

  ‘Well, she won’t be missed then,’ Prochazka concluded happily. Observing Kalayna on camera, she decided this prisoner would serve her purposes nicely, and she certainly wasn’t a native Phemorian. ‘She looks to be the youngest also … very good. Have her brought to me.’

  The general eyed over the remaining women, spotting Jazmay Cardea, who had resigned her commission in the Valoureans to pursue science studies on Maladaan years ago. ‘Let’s see how forthcoming the traitor is when witnessing her husband whored before her eyes.’

  The lieutenant smiled, delighted by the mandate. ‘I’ll see to it personally, General.’

  ‘I want some serious rifts shot through this crew,’ Prochazka elaborated. ‘Screw with their solidarity, do some serious emotional damage! Am I understood?’

  The lieutenant’s eyes widened at the passion behind the demand, but her enthusiasm didn’t wane. ‘I shall do my worst.’

  13

  EVIL TO BETRAY

  Kalayna was just finishing up the conversion of Amie’s neutraliser when the doors to their cell block were heard to open, and she shoved the said item in between her ample breasts and hid her tools, before joining Amie at the cell window to see what was happening.

  There were eight Valoureans marching down the corridor, the first four of whom stopped outside Jazmay’s cell. ‘Time for you to see how well we are enjoying your man whore,’ the lieutenant advised Jazmay as she unlocked the cell.


  ‘You’ll never have a clue about men,’ came Jazmay’s reply, as the Valoureans were seen to enter the cell she occupied with her son, Fari.

  A scuffle ensued, and the second foursome of Valoureans stopped outside the cell to catch the action.

  ‘Give me any problems and I shall bring your son with us.’ The lieutenant’s threat brought a swift conclusion to Jazmay’s protest, although Fari insisted he did want to come.

  Kalayna looked to Amie, who had a horrified expression on her face — clearly wondering whether she was next to see her husband abused before her eyes. ‘It’s okay, you are free,’ Kalayna whispered, ‘but Jazmay is not so fortunate.’ As she reached inside her shirt to sneak Amie’s device back to her, she noted the second quad of Valoureans were proceeding towards them, so she left it where it was.

  ‘The general wants to see you,’ advised the Valourean leading the group, and Kalayna was stunned to note they were referring to her.

  ‘Me? Why me?’ Kalayna wondered if they’d spotted her tinkering. Fortunately Amie was wearing long trousers and none of the guards noted her restraint was absent.

  ‘Maybe she likes them young, dumb and full of complaints?’ This guard waited outside the unlocked door and encouraged only Kalayna to exit.

  Although she was fearful of her destination, Kalayna saw an opportunity to aid Jazmay, and so exited swiftly and took off up the corridor ahead of her guard. Out in front, Jazmay was exiting her cell on her own recognisance, whilst two guards awaited her further up the corridor, and two held back her son from following.

  Was she really about to attack one of the best warriors on their crew? She was asking to have her lights knocked out. ‘This is all your fault, you shapeshifting freak!’

  Jazmay turned about, stunned to see Kalayna launching herself towards her.

  With a high jump, knees tucked tight to her chest, Kalayna hit Jazmay with her full force and knocked her to the ground, pinning her arms to the floor with her knees. Shielded from sight by her masses of long thick hair, Kalayna shoved the converted neutraliser down between Jazmay’s equally ample breasts.