Warrior Rogue (The Drift Lords Series)

by Nancy J. Cohen

  Or maybe the discomfort came from the low grade buzzing that sprang into her head. Trolleks must be close, trolling as it were for victims to confound.

  She hit pay dirt inside the Goblin Forest Flight, where attractive females dressed like wood nymphs with glitter on their faces and crowns of leaves greeted each guest in two separate lines. Jen approached the turnstile that would allow her entrance to the ride. A hostess smiled at her in a way that made Jen feel like a butterfly about to be pinned to a board.

  “Welcome to the Goblin Forest, mistress. Please insert your index finger into the scanner to receive your boarding pass.”

  Jen’s heart thudded as she complied. Something inside scraped her fingertip. Startled, she jerked her hand out. A paper popped from the machine. The attendant held it out, and when Jen reached for it, the woman grabbed her arm for a quick squeeze.

  “Congratulations, visitor. Have a pleasant ride.”

  Jen snatched the ticket, berating herself for being caught unawares. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

  “Beware the enchantment of the ghost walkers,” the hostess exhorted. “They may tempt you to linger in the forest.” A sly smile curved her mouth. “Listen to the recorded message. It will tell you what you need to know to escape.”

  Shaken, Jen pushed through the turnstile and took a seat on a bench next to three other people. A safety bar lowered in front of them. Ahead of the track loomed a dark tunnel. Would they emerge safely at the other end?

  The bench lurched ahead and seemed to rise into the air as they entered a magical land beyond the tunnel. They soared, dipped, and twirled through a colorful landscape with giant mushrooms, huge green plants, and goblins popping up to scare visitors.

  Trees reached for guests with grasping branches. A waterfall sounded ahead, and her heart leapt at their sudden plunge toward a pool below. They lifted at the last moment, soaring into the air again, their feet dangling.

  The bench tilted dizzily as they flew over a swamp with knobby cypress knees and prickly plant spines. Music drummed in the background. They ascended a grassy slope and then skimmed across a forest.

  A goblin king rose at the far end, a snarl on his face. He blocked their progress forward. As their bench hovered, a Manga warrior popped up to battle him. A brief combat ensued and then the goblin sank from view. The victorious caped hero addressed the guests in a mechanical voice.

  “You will be rewarded generously for helping us vanquish the evil king. When your ride comes to a stop, step through the exit and receive a special gift. Then go home and tell everyone you had a great time. Remember to visit our other theme parks around the world.” He repeated his message in various languages.

  Jen gulped. Around the world?

  Paz’s theory was correct. Trolleks were acquiring mind slaves through popular tourist attractions. Who would suspect a nefarious purpose to favorite vacation spots around the globe?

  Wait a minute. Didn’t they also test blood samples of humans at these sites? Individuals who showed certain protein markers became subjects for Algie’s experiments. But how did they go about it in this place?

  She probed her fingertip, the one she’d stuck into the scanning device at the ride’s entry. Her skin seemed a bit red. Had they taken a scraping for DNA analysis? Why go to the trouble of drawing blood when that method might be more expedient?

  A disembodied voice spoke from a loudspeaker as their bench glided to a stop. “Some of you may be selected for a special promotion. Please go along willingly. Your companions can meet up with you at home.”

  She exited at a brightly lit platform, where an attendant shuffled them through to an adjacent gift shop.

  Jen strode down an aisle with goblin dolls made in Japan. They looked suspiciously like Trolleks with their long noses, shaggy hair, and toothy grins.

  “Excuse me, miss, do you speak English?”

  She glanced up. A westerner covered from head to toe in a safari jacket, cargo pants, boots, and a hat approached.

  “Yes, I do.”

  He bustled to her side. “Tell me, did you notice anything strange about this attraction?”

  “In what manner?” Talk about strange, aren’t you hot as hell in that outfit? You’re even wearing leather gloves. Are you afraid of germs or something?

  “Do you see how these folks behave after they get off the ride? It’s like they’re robots. You’re different. You have an alert look on your face.” His brown eyes examined her. He had a scar on his upper cheek and looked to be in his mid-forties.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not following you.” Was this a test to see if she was confounded? If so, she’d failed miserably.

  “You’re from the States, aren’t you? I can always tell a fellow citizen. Talk to me.”

  Her eyes rounded. “About what?” Who was this man, and how much did he know?

  “Things aren’t right in this place. They do something to people here. Folks have gone missing, too.”

  She surveyed his attire, realizing he’d covered himself on purpose. He had left no exposed areas for a Trollek to touch.

  Her pulse pounded in her throat. “Who are you?”

  He withdrew his wallet and flashed a badge. “I work for the U.S. government. We’re concerned about certain anomalies.”

  What? Could they be aware of the Trollek incursion?

  “I-I can’t talk now.” She peered past him, afraid he’d impede her own investigation.

  “Then take my card. Call me later. Seriously, I could use your input.”

  She stuffed the card into her pants pocket, hoping no one had observed them. Further down the aisle, a tall, thin Asian browsed a display of fake swords and shields.

  A staff member dressed as a goblin with a pointy green hat hurried up to the guy. His overly large ears and hands alerted Jen. Alarm frissoned up her spine.

  “Sir, congratulations, you’ve won a free photograph. Kindly step behind that curtain.”

  Without hesitation, the fellow obeyed. From the corner of her eye, she noted the man in khaki watching.

  Her body trembling, she made a beeline for the exit and the bright sunshine outside.

  A firm hand on her arm stopped her. “Just a minute, mistress. You’ve been chosen for our special promotion. Please follow that gentleman.”

  Jen’s heart skipped a beat. Dear heaven, what now?

  She glanced toward the door, where freedom beckoned. If anything went wrong, Paz wouldn’t be available to assist her. She’d have to rely on herself and her unknown power. She quaked at the notion of unleashing it again, of losing control.

  She’d have to take that risk. Paz had assigned her this job, and by God, she’d follow it through.

  Willing her face to appear impassive, she stepped past the black curtain as indicated. On the other side, she faced a large space with partitioned cubicles. Another staffer gestured her toward cubicle number three. She entered the area where there was a scent of antiseptic and a single chair facing forward against a gray background.

  A pretty blonde entered immediately after her. True to their deception, she carried a camera with a large lens. “Before I take your photo, may I see the hand you put into our scanner? I’m afraid it might have left a smudge.”

  Jen turned her palm over, hoping the Trollek wouldn’t notice her tremors. If she were confounded, she’d be in a calm state, receptive to commands. She lowered her gaze to appear docile but couldn’t help her sharp intake of breath when the blond grasped her hand.

  “Let me just clean that for you.”

  Jen felt a cool, moist swipe on her skin followed by a sharp prick. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. Had she been stuck? Sure enough, from her peripheral vision she saw dark red oozing from her fingertip. So they did take blood samples here after all.

  “I’m so sorry, there must have been a splinter in the wipe. Here, press on this gauze with your other hand while I snap a headshot.” That task done, the Trollek beamed at her. “It will just take a moment to p
rocess. Please wait here.”

  On her way out, the female flicked a privacy curtain down. Jen didn’t know if a hidden security camera might be aimed at her, so she resisted the urge to examine her finger. She waited as ordered, her spine stiff, expecting at any moment for a bunch of armed Trolleks to burst inside and grab her.

  How did they know who to waylay after the ride? The scanning device that presumably took a DNA sample must give quick results. Those humans who possessed genetic compatibility to the Trolleks would then be targeted for further testing. And if they showed the protein markers, they’d be candidates for Tent Ten.

  That raised a host of other questions. How did the Trolleks transport the fated guests from this theme park to Togura Island, assuming that held the closest facility for Algie’s scientists? Had Paz been correct in guessing the portal at Manga World had reverse functionality?

  Moreover, what happened to the people who never returned home? Weren’t their families concerned?

  She thought about the government agent, if that man’s identity was real. What if some of the confounded guests who’d been sent back to lead normal lives were diplomats, holding positions in high places? Maybe their behavior had alerted the intelligence agencies.

  Yet that wasn’t likely, since you couldn’t always tell an individual had been confounded. Maybe it was the missing people who’d raised alarms. Either way, any investigation would be dangerous and would have to be deeply covert.

  A chill shuddered through her. It appeared she’d stumbled onto something a lot bigger than she and Paz had expected.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Paz regretted leaving Jen to her own resources, but he had no choice. After parting from her at Manga World, he followed his nose to where the smell of burnt filaments was strongest.

  The olfactory trail of cors particles led him, as he’d thought it might, to a door labeled Staff Only in the back of a souvenir shop at a Flying Wizards attraction. From there, he bet it would take him into a series of underground utility tunnels like at Drift World.

  He eyed the staff members, mostly Asians. A uniform would help disguise him in case security cameras were trained on the staff door.

  He selected a taller than average man as his target and signaled him. “Excuse me,” he said in English plus sign language. “Can you direct me to the men’s room?” When the guy jabbered back, Paz frowned. “Sorry, I don’t understand. Would you mind showing me the way?”

  Outside, he lured the fellow behind a planter and subdued him with a Morabi nerve jab. A few minutes later, he walked into the store wearing the man’s uniform and headed for the private door. If the design of this place was anything like Drift World, a room below would hold the portal back to Togura Island.

  He descended a concrete staircase into a series of utility corridors. Wondering which way to go at a junction, he adjusted his backpack across his shoulders. He’d feel a lot better with a stash of weapons. All he had for defense were his own hands and a pocketknife.

  Paz missed the weight of his personal dagger. That treasured item, given to him upon graduation at the Academy, had been lost along with his clothing in the ocean. He’d lost more than his belongings in that final battle. Adrift without his team on an alien world, he felt isolated and alone.

  If he hadn’t met Jen…it frightened him how much he needed her. Whenever he grasped her hand, he felt stronger, more capable, and able to accomplish any task. How did she do that to him? And why was he thinking of her when his mind should be on his mission?

  Hearing voices coming from around the corner, he slid into a recess and sucked in a breath. A couple of beasts stomped past wearing military-cut trousers and belted tunics. They carried laser carbines. He was definitely in the right place.

  Should he follow them? They might merely be on patrol. He needed to find the transfer station.

  A couple of human staffers came into view from around the corner. They escorted a small group of guests who stared straight ahead in a blank manner. Paz waited until they passed and then dashed forward to take a position at the column’s rear. He mumbled a noncommittal reply when one of the employees shot him a question.

  His muscles tensed as they approached a door flanked by two armed Trolleks.

  Their entourage halted. The guy in the lead exchanged a few words with one of the soldiers. The beefy Trollek surveyed the unhappy lot of visitors, six men and two young women. He said something that made his friend chortle. Then they stepped aside to allow the group passage.

  Paz’s heart pounded in his chest as he sauntered by, head lowered. Would they notice he was too tall for an Asian? That he was a lot more muscular than these puny humans? That he wore a backpack and they didn’t?

  Evidently not, because his presence didn’t raise any alarms. They were used to unquestioned obedience from their mind slaves, including the staff members among them. He fixed his face into a mask so as not to betray his excitement when he saw the apparatus ahead. An archway formed over a raised circular platform, its canopy supported by four columns. One post held a control panel.

  At a barked command from the lead staffer, the guests stepped upon the dais. Paz carefully observed the code punched in by the fellow at the touchpad. The air under the archway shimmered, and in the blink of an eye, the people vanished. Paz wrinkled his nose. The chemical smell of burning filaments that accompanied vector shifts pervaded the air.

  When the other employees turned to leave, he waved them on, stooping as though to fix his shoe. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice his boots under the uniform’s pant cuffs.

  He’d have to wait until the reception committee met the victims on the other side. He pitied them if they were destined for Tent Ten. None of those folks would survive.

  Didn’t anyone ever miss them? He supposed their companions at the park were confounded, too. They’d be sent home with the excuse to tell everyone their friend or family member had been called away. But what happened when they never returned? Surely some people must make inquiries.

  Anyway, he couldn’t think about that now.

  After a sweat-inducing interval, he stepped onto the platform, punched in the code he’d seen the Trollek input, and gritted his teeth for the bone-jarring sensation of a vector shift. The room tilted, lost focus, and rematerialized into the chamber at Shirajo Manor that held two portals.

  Paz let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. No one occupied the room. In two quick leaps, he made it onto the larger platform. Cables snaked from the basement, which housed the generator, to receptacles on the arch itself.

  He took out the specialized scanner he’d constructed in their hotel room, cobbled together from the electronics he’d acquired at a consumer store. Taking a reading from the other side of the dimensional rift should give him the information he needed. Along with the copied data from the room downstairs, it would tell him how the Trolleks forced open the gates.

  Poised to go through the barrier, he swallowed hard. He’d only been to the Trollek home world once before, and it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. They had guards on the other side and weapons aimed at the gate. He didn’t have any sonic grenades to toss through this time to disable the enemy. He’d just have to make this visit a quick one.

  Remembering the activation code, he keyed it on the control panel. The disorienting sensations that followed were much worse than a simple spatial shift between locations on the same plane. He felt an instant of disembodiment, where he appeared to be weightless in a void.

  Another presence loomed from the depths. He sensed its anger, its challenge at his invasion. It pulled him down, siphoning his energy. He resisted by strength of will, picturing himself on the other side.

  Then he was there, facing a contingent of guards who fired at him as soon as he stepped across the threshold. He merely had to wait until the scanner light turned green, meaning it had completed its job. Come on, he thought, dodging laser beams.

  From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed woods
in the background and two moons in the sky. He smelled wood fires and the fresh scent of rain.

  A loud ratcheting noise came from a construction off to the side. He couldn’t see past its housing but it made a steady gud-a-lump, gud-a-lump sound. Cables snaked from the thing to the archway. He looked up, noting the bits and pieces of metal imbedded in the arch. A frown creased his brow as he tried to make sense of it.

  Light reflected off an array of mirrors facing the gate. They reminded him of radio satellite dishes on Earth aimed at space the way they were laid out in even rows.

  He dove sideways as a laser bolt sizzled past. His move put him in the path of a disruptor beam which he barely dodged. Ozone tinged the air along with cors particles.

  Suddenly, the barrage of fire stopped. A quick glance told him the troops were gathering to rush him.

  He was running out of time.

  The light on his scanner turned green.

  He whirled, punching in the return code. A hot, blazing pain stabbed his leg, making him falter. He squinted as lights flickered around him, and the world spun. In the next instant, the room back at Shirajo Manor sprang into sight. As soon as his vision cleared, he staggered off the platform.

  Searing heat burned his leg. He gasped, sweat dotting his brow as he limped forward. His glance dropped to his thigh.

  He’d been hit.

  Fortunately, he still wore the staff uniform over his own clothing. The double layer of fabric had taken some of the brunt from the laser. He grimaced at the scorch marks, not wanting to imagine what his flesh looked like beneath. At least the hot beam had cauterized the wound, so he wouldn’t bleed out.

  He gritted his teeth against the agony. He’d been hurt worse. He would deal with it later.

  He stored his scanner in a pocket as he dragged himself toward the opposite platform. Each step felt like a mile. He climbed onto the dais while shards of pain made his breath hitch. Pressing his lips tight, he reversed the code from before and ended up back at Manga World.

  Somehow he made it through the utility corridors and up the stairs to the surface while avoiding detection. That final effort nearly undid him. He hesitated before entering the gift shop, his chest heaving. The Trolleks might be looking for an intruder at Shirajo Manor, but not here. Although, they’d trace where he’d gone soon enough.