by Candace Sams
“You should have seen our reaction when she told us you would perform so … explicitly,” Fornax said as he looked her over. “That alone kept us from breaking Soldar’s illusion. The whole spy playact provided many hours of amusement. We even took bets on what this insipid Craetorian toad would do next.” He chuckled even as he glared at Soldar. “I’ve never seen Father so entertained. Sadly, he is still enamored of this mind-controlled idiot. Soldar is very like Aercos and my sire still desires him. Even this duplicity and chicanery has not shaken that resolve. In fact, the whole incident seems to have cemented his determination to have a man he can utterly control.”
“Your father realizes that Soldar was being used by Aigean. That he wasn’t responsible for what she put in his head. Is that it?” Lyra asked.
The smirk finally faded from Fornax’s face. “That will not last long. I will see you both dead. But you will go first.” He turned to his men. “Take her!”
“Wait … just tell me one more thing,” Lyra insisted as she backed away and held up her hands. “You took the time to explain all this just so you could see the look on my face and make fun of me. So there shouldn’t be any problem in my asking one more question.”
“Ask then. It only serves my purpose for you to know any of this.” He moved very close to her and glared down into her face. The maliciousness of his countenance even made his own minions back away. “I want the entire crew to see your expression as you’re tortured. If any of them had similar plans of helping another allied conspirator to the bridge, they will quickly change their minds when they see how you die. They will know how Aigean has betrayed you and them. Worse … you will know it as the last bit of blood leaves your body. So ask your question.”
Lyra lifted her chin. Her gaze never wavered from his. “How did you make Aigean reveal her plans? What did you do to her and when? I’ve seen no sign that she’s been tortured and you’ve obviously known about her scheme for some time,” she blurted.
“As I’ve already told you, she and my father quarreled incessantly over his failure to help her world. When she became a bit too cooperative of late, I grew suspicious. I had her brought to my quarters. I did to her much worse than I’d do to any common whore on this ship. And I can tell you … she did not enjoy it.” He cupped his crotch with his right hand. “Aigean Florn is still a woman. And there are things women fear much more than death. Even brutal tactics would not work on her as well as my particular brand of interrogation.” He put one finger under Lyra’s chin and lifted it higher. “She yielded her plans rather than suffer my company further. She even revealed that she could reach inside the Craetorian’s mind and summon forth the darkening. It was supposedly a myth. One caused by the suppression of primeval rage.”
“It’s some result from having turned from their Volan roots,” Lyra stated.
“It was only a legend. But then I actually saw it for myself.” He stared at Soldar for a long moment. “That’s when I knew what kind of weapon the man would make. If he was near Father whenever Aigean decided to unleash his power … by whatever phrase or gesture she’d associated with it … there would be no chance of my sire surviving.” He moved to Soldar, grabbed his belt, and pulled him closer. “To her … you were nothing more than an expendable weapon.”
Lyra’s hate-filled glared turned to Soldar as she confronted him with one more fact. “Soldar … discussing this in front of you seems to have broken Aigean’s mind control. So I guess there’s a limit to even what an Elderian mystic can do. Obviously, she has no ability to control Condorians or she’d have done it.”
Soldar stared at her and offered the only emotion he now felt. All other feelings concerning her were gone. It was as if they’d melted away, into infinity. “I am sorry, girl. You shouldn’t have run down the wrong canyon.”
Lyra lurched forward. All her anger was directed at him. That he’d been used by Aigean didn’t matter. He was the one she blamed for this situation. In his guise as an allied colonel, he’d pulled her into a death trap far more heartbreaking than any demise in the badlands of Reisen Four.
She got close enough to spit in his face before the guards pulled her off.
“I’ve heard enough,” she yelled. “Get me outta here and do what you’re going to do. If I ever see this bastard again, I’ll kill him myself!”
Fornax gestured several of his men forward even as Soldar wiped her spit from his face.
The guards quickly hauled her away. She never looked back.
Soldar stared at her retreating figure.
“I will say one thing about that woman,” Fornax muttered. “She at least is honest. And I believe she knows you won’t last as long as you think you will. Unlike my father, I do not tolerate Craetorians. They turned on their own kind millennia ago. They cannot be trusted.”
“That’s between D’uhr and me. Not you,” Soldar told him. “He must know I had no hand in this or he’d have had me killed by now. That’s obviously vexing you no end.”
Fornax wrapped the fingers of one hand around Soldar’s throat. “Know this, Craetorian … I will see that girl suffers less than you. She is nothing to me but one more allied soldier. You, on the other hand, represent a much greater menace. Like so many, you seek to replace me in my father’s affection. But it will not work.”
Soldar roughly pulled Fornax’s hand away and shoved the Condorian so hard that he landed on his back, ten feet away. He slowly approached until he stood over Fornax’s sprawled body. From that vantage point, he had the satisfaction of seeing real fear in his opponent’s eyes.
“Don’t threaten me, boy! That girl you just hauled away has no weapons. I … am … a weapon. Aigean left me with a power you’d do well to respect. Remember that the next time you’re in my presence!”
Without one word more, Soldar turned and stalked away.
Chapter 11
Soldar exited the bed he’d shared with D’uhr and slowly walked to a table. He poured himself a large glass of wine and noted how servants went about their work in the space beyond his veiled sleeping area.
As he drank his fill, he tried to expunge the image of that lovely girl going to her death. He didn’t know where she’d been taken and wouldn’t ask. His own situation was now secure and that was his only concern.
For using him in a mind control subterfuge to kill D’uhr, Aigean Florn could go straight to whatever hell she believed in. D’uhr was saving some special torture for the Elderian. It had to be horrific since the order had been given to confine her to her quarters. No one was to touch her but the admiral.
Because of her intrigues, it had taken the better part of the night and the next morning to prove he no longer harbored any thoughts of killing anyone. To prove himself, he’d done everything D’uhr had asked. Every sexual act known had played out in these quarters. In the end, D’uhr’s suspicion of him seemed to have evaporated. Now his only problem was Fornax and how to deal with that little spewed mistake of nature.
Fornax wouldn’t be satisfied until he was dead. D’uhr’s offspring had pestered his father to have all threats neutralized. It may be that an untimely accident was called for. Perhaps the little worm might trip into an airlock during a deep space inspection of this ship. That was an image worth smiling over.
A large hand slid around his waist. Soldar covered it with one palm while continuing to drink his wine.
“In every detail imaginable, you are magnificent,” D’uhr crooned. “But why is that drink more to your liking than lying with me?”
Soldar turned to face his lover and slowly shook his head in denial. “You’re a hard man to satisfy. I find my energy taxed by so much attention. My thirst drove me to the drink, not any desire to be parted from you.”
A loud buzzer sounded at the other end of the room. Scurrying footsteps were heard then a loud obnoxious voice followed.
Solder si
ghed and rolled his eyes in contempt. “Must he keep interrupting us? This is the third time, is it not?”
“Fornax is only trying to protect me,” D’uhr said as he stroked his bedmate’s back.
“You’ve been sleeping the last four hours,” Soldar said. “Had I wanted to do you in, I had both motive and opportunity. How many times do I have to tell him, or you, that I no longer harbor Aigean’s demonic death wishes? My mind is my own again.”
Fornax aggressively pushed the curtains to their bed space aside and strode in. “You will be scrutinized for as long as it takes to assure the safety of my father,” he groused.
“That’s your choice,” Soldar angrily replied as he ambled as far away from Fornax as he could. “But I can’t perform under these conditions. I’m not only watched, but I’ve lost the right to have a private conversation with my lover.”
D’uhr opened a bottle of brandy and poured amber liquid into two crystal tumblers. He handed one of these to Fornax and sipped from the other before speaking. “Do not provoke Soldar, my son. He is right. I slept in his arms many times in the past hours and he could have slit my throat.”
Fornax gestured toward D’uhr’s and Soldar’s nude bodies and sneered. “Father, would you and your simpering tart please dress?”
“Why?” D’uhr asked. “I happen to love watching Soldar. What need does he have of clothing?”
His son scowled and threw up his hands in anger. “Fine. If you want to watch the executions nude then so be it. But I hardly think it appropriate for a man of your stature.” He abruptly turned to leave, but D’uhr put one hand on his forearm to stop him.
“The time got away from me, Fornax. As usual, you have matters well in hand, my brave boy. We’ll be there in short order,” he promised as he put his glass down and searched for clothing.
Soldar sat on the side of the oversized pillow bed and sipped more wine. “Is it necessary for me to make an appearance? I’d like to shower and sleep.”
Fornax strode close to him and glared. “Perhaps watching your little Earthling die leaves you somewhat squeamish. It may be that you’re not in as much control of your mind as you think.”
“Accuse me of that one more time and we’ll see who simpers!” Soldar warned as he stood and towered over the younger clone of D’uhr.
“The girl still wears your armband as a token of your love, does she not?” Fornax accused.
Soldar lifted his hand to his own armband and quickly unfastened it. He held it out as an offering to Fornax. “The meaning of this is overrated and always has been. It’s a piece of jewelry and nothing more. Perhaps you’d like it since trivialities seem to amuse you,” he taunted. “I understand your ground fighters kill to get them, so I’d warn against wearing it openly,” he finished in a sickening, sweet voice.
“Enough, you two! Put your armband back on, Soldar. Fornax was only teasing. That band would look ridiculous on him.” He said with a snort. “Somehow, I find the wearing of one more attractive than both. Perhaps there’s something about the lack of symmetry that’s eye-catching. It’s a bit like wearing one golden earring,” he mused. “I find the look quite dashing.”
Soldar put his armband back on. D’uhr’s son appeared somewhat taken aback. Fornax knew that wearing that armband romantically linked him to his own father’s lover. The twisted nature of the gest briefly had the younger man silenced. In some ways, it seemed that Fornax was not as morally bankrupt as his sire.
“My son, you should understand that Soldar never wanted the girl. He cares nothing of the band he put on her arm since Aigean seeded the need of her in his mind,” D’uhr insisted. “But I agree with him about the triviality of the matter. This issue will soon be moot.”
“What do you mean?” Soldar asked as he saw another oily smile affix itself to Fornax’s face.
“Despite all the intrigue, I’ve greatly enjoyed my time on this ship and have been enormously amused … especially by that girl. Hearing about how she snuck on the bridge, and so earnestly attempted to send a message nowhere did my heart good.” D’uhr chuckled and smiled broadly. “Had I not been so diverted I’d have had the little Croton bitch, whose identity she assumed, killed.”
Fornax snickered when his father did. Apparently their memories of those events were quite comic, but Soldar didn’t see it that way. The Earth woman had been trying to save the lives of others even at high risk to her own. Somewhere, a semblance of conscience awoke. He noted bravery in her actions.
“What I meant was,” D’uhr slowly continued, “all good things must come to an end. The wine and food were exceptional and the whoring and drugs amused the favorites in my fleet quite well. But it is time to get back to duty.”
“A wise decision,” Fornax said as he put his hands on his hips and nodded.
“To finish with this subject of the girl … she provided entertainment on stage and off. I greatly enjoyed hearing of her exploits that came to naught. For that reason only, I have decided she will die fast and painlessly. Torture takes time and I’d rather spend it elsewhere.” The amused look faded from his face. One of anger replaced all kinder emotion. “If anyone deserves agony it is Aigean Florn. I whiled away my hours in bed when I should have seen her skin boiled off.”
Fornax lifted his chin and shot Soldar a nasty look. “I couldn’t agree more, Father!”
“This little wandering respite in space has served its purpose,” D’uhr mused. “We need cleaner accommodation now. My officers are still being afflicted with the red ring sickness. It’s likely Aigean put something in our food or drink to induce it.”
“How can that be?” Soldar asked as he watched D’uhr dress. “The crew eats the same food and drinks the same wine.”
D’uhr pulled on a pair of boots. He used one corner of the bed linen to swipe at a small smudge on the leather before responding. “It does seem quite odd that no other races are afflicted. Even you show no signs of the sickness,” he finished as he looked Soldar over once again.
“But where will we find another pleasure craft in a war zone?” Soldar complained. “Surely it’s reasonable to locate replacement quarters before destroying the Venus.”
D’uhr adamantly shook his head. “No. We’ve been here as long as I dare. If we do not destroy all traces of her, the Venus will be our downfall. Other admirals and their staff are beginning to question my absence from my war cruiser. They’re insisting I answer my own communiques instead of hearing from my son. And to keep communication appear normal, Fornax spends a great deal of his time between the surface of this filthy place and my command ship. His humor of late has been souring. I can only attribute it to his hiding this ship’s existence and my presence here.”
“That is so, Father. Let your will be done,” Fornax insisted. “I’ll gather this ship’s occupants and our warriors outside. Any of our men too ill to walk will be carried.”
D’uhr nodded in agreement. “Drain all the fuel from the Venus and fill our shuttles with it. Empty the armory and take what goods we can make use of. We leave before another day dawns on this stinking, colorless rock.”
Fornax narrowed his eyes and stared at Soldar. “And what of him?”
“Get over his presence in my life, Fornax! You’ve been given orders. Follow them,” D’uhr tersely replied.
• • •
Dressed in a brown tunic, pants, and tall boots, Soldar accompanied Fornax and his men through the passageways. He was to watch the slaughter that would take place outside the ship. Brown was a less somber color than black. He wasn’t in mourning after all. He was being more-or-less forced to watch but he couldn’t actually find it in himself to lament.
As always, D’uhr controlled everything. So when the admiral had his fill of his sumptuous leisure craft, he deemed its continued existence unnecessary. And without having so much as a thought about where they’d go on
ce they were aboard his command vessel.
Soldar’s conscious mind — that part of him yearning for excess, pleasure, and personal reward — had no interest in the death of the crew or the destruction of this ship. But somewhere deep inside his brain and down to that part some might call a soul, he knew what D’uhr was doing was wrong. Still, he tamped down any remorse. What happened to the crew of the Venus was not his concern. He’d been brought here seeking sanctuary but Aigean had turned him into something he wasn’t. She’d used him as D’uhr would. At least in the case of the Condorian admiral, there was some remuneration in his favor. He got to keep his life. Sadly, the crew of the Venus would not keep theirs.
Their support of a doomed allied cause had garnered them nothing. They’d helped that Earth girl get to the bridge when they thought they could outwit D’uhr.
So why had they done it? As the saying often went, what was in it for them?
He tried to recall those emotions and thoughts of the fictional Craetorian colonel. The same one who had captured the love of a brave girl. But that man no longer existed.
He snorted in derision.
That man had never existed. That doomed creature had been a creation of Aigean’s mind and based upon the characteristics of some fictional hero. That persona had been created so Aigean’s crew would see a chance at survival and put off their attempts to mutiny. She had no control over them any longer and now feared their refusal to obey would get her killed. She already blamed and hated D’uhr for the destruction of her home, so she’d created a myth her employees could believe in, and a way to strike back at a Condorian she hated. Her actions were born of deceit and sedition, not the common good of her crew.
As he saw it, there were no men or women who were heroes. The Condorians were creating the only reality that would last. He’d tried to convince people on Craetoria to reunite their race with the Condorian Empire and make the Volan whole again. But they’d insanely embraced some altruistic future to which only fools aspire. They’d clung like children to a vision called hope when the only hope anyone had was what they could bribe, pander, or blackmail out of someone else. And if he must be the sex-toy dog of a petty tyrant, then so be it. He would survive where others would not. And whatever dreams these so-called allies had of a better future would die with them.
