Prophecy se-1

by T C Southwell

  The tall, thin woman nodded in reply. Her bright green eyes spat venom in a narrow, angular face. Ridges of raised grey scales ran down the bridge of her nose, along her brows and around the edge of her jaw. Her rough grey skin resembled sharkskin, and the long, feather-like scales atop her head rattled when she moved. Although her form was similar to an Atlantean's, her hands, which rested on a pair of curved daggers in her belt, were more like claws; three long fingers flanked by a short thumb and a vestigial fourth finger above the wrist. A suit of finely woven red metallic cloth, rather like chain mail, sheathed her mannish figure. A gold chain encircled her waist and more were looped under her armpits, attached to the beading on her broad shoulders. Her coat hung to mid-thigh, and thick-soled black boots shod her feet. The male who stood beside her was almost identical in appearance and dress, but a little shorter and less imposing.

  Tallyn met the woman's cold eyes. "Drevina, how nice of you to visit. We're always pleased to see you. At least that way we know what you're up to."

  Drevina's lips drew back to reveal pink teeth. "Tallyn, your wits are as sharp as ever. Pity you don't put them to better use."

  He bowed mockingly. "I can think of no greater challenge than to pit them against yours, and your delightful brother, of course. Is he potty trained yet? Mertar, it's good to see you."

  Mertar snarled. Drevina raised a claw, and he subsided. "You've always thrived on petty insults. They must be your speciality."

  "Never as good as yours. I always bow to your superiority."

  Drevina ignored the jibe. "You've been visiting the Chandra system a lot recently. Any particular reason?"

  "Chandra? Oh, Ellath Three, you mean. Well, it's undergoing some interesting changes, not that it's any of your business."

  "You chased four of my ships from there, four years ago, that's my business."

  "They had no right to be there. Picking over the bones of fallen civilisations may be your speciality, but that system falls within our territory."

  She showed her teeth again. "The Chandra system has never been disputed, yet I fail to see why you protect such a useless planet. My ships did not change its fate. We did nothing to interfere, only took a few materials."

  "Well, you can go there as much as you wish now. The atmosphere would fry even you."

  "Empress Drevina, you have yet to state your business before the council," Vargon interrupted, his voice deceptively mild. "Fascinating though your discourse with Commander Tallyn may be, we really should get to the point, don't you think?"

  Drevina glared at Tallyn before facing the council again. "We're here to lay claim to a new solar system in the Vega nebula. We discovered it several weeks ago. Naturally, it's uninhabited, but we brought a recording of it for you."

  "How kind," Vargon muttered rather sarcastically as Mertar pulled a black box from his belt. He detached two metal discs and placed them on the floor, one on top of the other. He then aimed the black box at the two discs, and the topmost one rose some five feet into the air. Between the two, a holographic field sprang into existence. The images were dull and rather hazy, but sufficiently clear to make out a white dwarf and an aged orange sun in a binary system. Five planets and a debris ring orbited the orange sun at widely spaced intervals.

  Drevina gestured at the image. "Four of the planets are useless. The two farthest are frozen mud and ammonia, the third planet is a gas giant, and the one nearest the sun is extremely hot; a barren rock. We're interested in the second planet." The hologram zoomed in on a yellow world, the rest of the solar system vanishing. "It has sulphur clouds and an ammonia-based atmosphere, but we can make it habitable. Its orbit is good."

  "I see." Vargon nodded as the hologram vanished, then glanced around at the rest of the council members. "I see no basis for objection. It's in your territory and looks sufficiently hostile. Do you have an observation, Commander Tallyn?"

  "Yes, I'd like to know the real reason for the Empress' visit. All this could have been done on the space line; there was no need for a meeting."

  Drevina said, "We came here out of courtesy. There is no reason to accuse us of lying."

  "Courtesy! You're not just here to flaunt your unsavoury goodies. You never have before. Every other such agreement was achieved on a space line, but now suddenly you're here in person. Are you perhaps spying on us at the same time?"

  "You never did have any manners, but why would I want to spy on the Atlanteans? You seldom do anything of interest, and when you do, you always tell everyone about it first."

  "Empress, please," Vargon soothed. "Commander Tallyn's suspicions are his own, kindly ignore him. We don't wish to start a dispute about it. I'm sure your reasons for coming here are spawned purely by a righteous wish to be polite to your friends."

  "Friends!" Drevina snorted, then caught herself and tore her glare from Tallyn, who now wore a bland expression. "Yes, of course."

  "Good. Now that you have told us, it was nice seeing you again, and have a safe journey home."

  Drevina shot Tallyn a last look of unadulterated hatred as she swept out, her brother at her heels. When the brisk tapping of their feet had faded to a distant echo, Vargon looked at Tallyn, shaking his head in reprimand.

  "You shouldn't antagonise her, Commander. You know that Draycons have difficulty in controlling their tempers. Pointing out the obvious was unnecessary, and only served to anger them. Rest assured, whatever they came here to spy on, they've been kept too far away to find out anything. The orbit they were given is barely inside the third moon."

  "Good. But I'd like to know what they're after. Since they lost the war, they've been looking for a way to win the next one."

  Vargon nodded. "As we do. Have one of your scouts investigate the Vega system and report. Now, tell me of your encounter with this black ship." Vargon settled more comfortably in his hard-backed chair, and the rest of the council members squirmed and stretched.

  At the end of Tallyn’s account, Vargon looked thoughtful, and the other council members turned to one another in muttered consultation. When they fell silent, Vargon roused from his reverie.

  "So, the girl you found is the Golden Child. This is excellent news. You must extend to her every courtesy, and grant her every wish, so long as it doesn't put her in danger. All that remains now is to wait. Good work, Commander."

  Tallyn bowed and retreated. Outside, Drevina waited with her escort, talking to her brother in the strange, hissing Draycon tongue. She broke off her conversation to approach Tallyn, surrounded by her guards, and he stopped, eyeing her.

  "One day, Tallyn, I'm going to fix you, permanently."

  "You've already tried that. It didn't work, remember?"

  She smiled, her eyes filled with malice. "Next time it will. You're going to pay for your insults."

  "Is the Drayconar Empire prepared for another war with Atlan? The last one, as I recall, left you nursing a lot of wounds. You should be careful what you say in public places. These walls have ears, and eyes, too, sometimes."

  Drevina glanced around. "Our antagonism is well known, as is your disrespect. The next war between our empires will result in your defeat."

  "Really? It's lucky for you that we know how often you lie, or that might be taken as a threat."

  Her eyes glinted. "You'll pay for that too, I promise."

  Drevina spun on her heel and swept away with her escort, Mertar trotting at her side. Their red and black-clad forms radiated hatred, at odds with the peaceful setting of the white pillared hall. He knew that provoking Drevina was unwise; he was just never able to resist it. She and her brother ruled the second largest empire after Atlan, and the war had cost millions of Atlantean lives.

  The Draycons had attacked undefended planets and outposts, using biological and chemical weapons. The war had ended in resounding defeat for the Draycons when the Atlanteans had blown up their empress' palace on Jandar One, killing her. Drevina, daughter of the dead empress, still longed for vengeance. Ten years ago, she had st
arted the Saurian War, but that could never be proven, and the only reason she informed Atlan of her discoveries was a lingering fear of the empire that had killed her mother. Her presence on Atlan worried him, for she seemed more confident than before, as if she had a trump card she was about to play.

  Draycons had evolved in a distant galaxy, and moved closer to Atlan when their sun died. The Atlanteans had helped them, but soon learnt the folly of that. Draycon culture, morals and intellect were far more alien than their forms, and to them, helping others was a sign of weakness. Draycons believed that all victories were justified, no matter how they were achieved. A saying had sprung up, which summed up their mentality most succinctly, that a Draycon would stab you in the back with the knife he had borrowed from you.

  Nothing was beneath them, if it gave them an advantage. Physically they were tough, able to withstand extreme conditions and breathe poisonous air. Those who had studied them had deduced that they originated on an unstable, continually changing hellhole, like a planet with an extended elliptical orbit, which became terribly hot as it passed close to its sun, then freezing cold as it moved away. Now they dwelt uncomfortably close, a mere fifteen light years distant, in the Regal Galaxy.

  Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the tall windows to dapple the tawny carpet in Tallyn's study. He was away most of the time, and Rayne and Rawn studied at his house, since travelling to the library was no longer necessary now that they had completed the groundwork. They spent more time on the vast data network that spanned the planets in the system. She and Rawn had made many friends amongst the users, most of whom were students. Rawn sat at Tallyn's desk, engrossed in a conversation with an alien on the fifth planet. Rayne lounged in a comfy chair beside a low table, studying the dynamics of a binary system. A soft pop from the lounge made her glance at Rawn, but he did not appear to have heard the noise. As Rayne turned back to her screen, she noticed a slight, astringent scent, then her eyelids slammed down.

  Rayne woke in a padded grey room, her head pounding and her vision blurry. Her wrists were manacled, and a lacy dress that barely reached past her crotch replaced her utilitarian suit. She clutched her head and struggled to banish the terrible ache at the back of her skull, tears of pain stinging her eyes. When she brought it under control, she opened her eyes and looked around at a featureless cell that did not even have a discernable door.

  After several minutes of trying to remember how she had got there, she gave up and worried about what was in store for her. She wondered if Rawn was in a similar predicament, or whether she had been the only target. She was sure this had something to do with the prophecy, although how anyone knew who she was remained a mystery. The crewmen who had been on Vengeance's bridge during the encounter with the black ship were all loyal to the Atlantean Empire. She could not believe any of them was a spy; some of them were almost fanatical in their fealty.

  A door appeared as it slid open, and a tall, angular woman with green eyes and sharkskin entered, revealing pink teeth in a revolting grin. Rayne recognised her race as Draycon, her heart sinking. The woman studied Rayne, gloating, then spoke in Atlantean.

  "So, little pink thing. Frightened? Your sort has weak, stupid females, don't you? Breeders. Humans. You were good at that, mind you. Bred yourselves right into extinction. How could the gods choose one like you to be the Golden Child?"

  Her grin widened as Rayne stifled a gasp. "Ah, yes, I know all about you. You were supposed to have died on your miserable planet, but you survived, hidden like an animal in the ground. Those bungling idiots who said they had killed you have paid for their mistake. Our seer knew you weren't dead. And I followed the trail of that fool, Tallyn, to find you. This universe is filled with incompetents. So I have to do the job myself, don't I?"

  She put her hands on her hips, running a red tongue over her lips. "Do you want to know what's going to happen to you?"

  "I suppose you're going to kill me."

  "No." The woman chuckled, a grating sound. "That would be too easy, wouldn't it? But you are going to die. Tempting though it is, I can't have the pleasure of killing you myself, even though it would be so easy to burn you and eject your body into space. Unfortunately, it's only a matter of time before Tallyn finds out who took you, and gives chase. Even if he never proves I killed you, he will find out that I took you. Atlan's sensor grid will have logged my illegal stopover.

  "So, if I make you disappear, it counts against me, for then the question of why raises its ugly head. After all, if I didn't know who you were, I wouldn't have killed you. By denying the prophecy and ensuring Atlan's downfall, I will most certainly earn their wrath. Even the suspicion would be enough for severe reprimands against my people. But if I sell you, it's not such a crime at all. I just have to ensure that I sell you to someone who's going to kill you, and there are plenty of them. Don't think your pretty face will save you either, there are many who hate such things, and long to destroy them. A torturous death, which is what you deserve, that's what awaits you."

  Rayne failed to repress a shiver, and the woman chuckled again. "I'll even profit from the deal. Isn't that justice for you?"

  "Tallyn will find you."

  "Oh, I'm sure he will, stupid girl, but I'll be guilty of no more than slave dealing, which, given my status, will be shrugged off. As far as he knows, I simply snatched an unimportant human girl to sell as a slave. Once you're sold, he'll never find you, and your destiny will be lost. You won't live to fulfil it, and the Atlantean Empire will fall, as it has been prophesied. Draycons will take over their worlds and enslave them."

  Rayne looked away, unable to meet the woman's hateful, sneering eyes. The door hissed shut, cutting off her grating chuckle.

  The Draycon ship emerged from its energy shell in a swirl of golden light, approaching Gergonia. The unpleasant, barely habitable world was technically a large moon orbiting a gas giant with huge ice rings. Not quite large enough to become a sun, the gas giant gave off an eerie red light that the rings reflected in a multi-coloured display, unfortunately not visible from Gergonia's surface due to the cloud cover. The planet's sulphur rich atmosphere was breathable, but unpleasant. Gergonia's distant red giant sun gave off plenty of heat, but little light, which barely reached the surface through the thick yellow fog that enveloped the planet, making it a twilight world. Dwarfish natives inhabited it, adapted to the dimness and acidic atmosphere. They lived on a yellow fungus that thrived in the sulphur-rich soil.

  The people of Gergonia rarely ventured outside, living in sealed dwellings with filters to eradicate the stench, the buildings joined by an underground system of travel. Entertainment of the worst kind flourished; gambling, whorehouses, drug dens, pain parlours and the buying and selling of stolen property. The clientele was made up entirely of crooks, petty tyrants and wealthy psychopaths. No one asked questions on Gergonia, and merchandise sold there rarely surfaced on law-abiding worlds. The residents who ran the markets and pleasure houses originated on some of the most obscure planets, had arrived on Gergonia by unpleasant means, and cared nothing for anyone else's misfortune.

  The Draycon ship docked amongst the assortment of converted freighters, battered explorers, old fighters bought from defeated dictators and a smattering of modern ships. Two armoured Draycon guards manhandled Rayne from her cell, and a sting on the side of her neck warned her that they had given her a drug. As they hustled her down a passage to a smooth docking bay with a shuttle parked in it, a wave of vertigo washed over her, followed by a strange detachment. She barely registered the trip to the surface, and walked between the guards when they dragged her from the shuttle.

  A room, a corridor and a busy chamber followed each other in a blur; voices spoke in strange languages she did not understand. She was led into a dim room filled with the stench of sweat and fear, a strong sensation of misery pervading the air. She tried to rouse herself sufficiently to take in her surroundings, noticing that the Draycons now wore masks.

  After a hissed conv
ersation with a blue-skinned man, the guards took her into an empty area, leaving the other two Draycons behind. The blue-skinned man followed, armed with a gavel, and mounted a podium. Rayne shook her head to try to clear the fog and gazed around with dazed, unfocussed eyes. The short, tubby blue man whose bald pate gleamed under the bright lights stood on a podium to one side. He clasped chubby hands and smiled down from his pedestal.

  Rayne started when she noticed the crowd seated in tiers of seats before him. A sea of masks stared up at the stage on which she stood. She shivered, aware of how little clothing she wore, and the horror of her situation seeped into her dull brain. Closing her eyes to block out the bright lights and weird masks, she swayed in her guards' grip. They kept her upright when she would have fallen, and the auctioneer's loud, brash voice jabbed her brain, reviving her enough to understand his fluent Atlantean.

  "Lords and majesties, crooks and cutthroats! I present to you a special piece of merchandise. A human! One of only two left in the universe; a lovely creature. Obviously reluctant, but then some of you prefer them that way."

  A wave of chuckling swept the audience. The auctioneer stepped down beside Rayne and gripped her hair to lift her face to the light. She kept her eyes closed, too numb to fight.

  The man's strident voice rang out. "Look at her! What a beauty! Descended from Atlantean intervention; a rare success. Who will start the bidding at twenty thousand? She's worth much more. Look at the hair, the figure, the face! Come along gentlemen, imagine all the fun you can have taming her! And if you can't tame her, have some fun killing her! You have money to burn! Give me thirty thousand, yes! Over there, fifty! Thank you sir, sixty there… yes? Seventy thousand I am bid. Eighty! Thank you sir, ninety over there… good, ninety-five? Yes! Any more? Come along gentlemen. Any more than ninety-five? Look at her! Any more bids?"