“She put me to sleep when I arrived. I had no knowledge of the days passing. Why the need for haste?”
“I asked Doctor Reston that myself,” Mia replied. “She told me psychological testing has shown that after a prolonged period of time with their lives dependent on the pod, humans emerge from it damaged in some undefinable way. They’re like walking ghosts of themselves—the body is still there, but it’s as though the essence, the spirit, of the person has been leached away. She told me she couldn’t bear for that to happen to a mighty warrior, a hero of his people. She had to make you well. Fast.”
Haldor had been listening with an increasingly frustrated look on his face. Finally, he exploded. “What does that have to do with Selena being kidnapped?” he shouted.
Mia flinched but stood her ground. “I know all of this may seem unimportant, but the ministry thinks it’s why she was taken. News of her work bringing you back to life, and the ceremony honoring her, has circulated all over the universe. According to Minister Symon, current theory is that a contingent from a rogue world infiltrated the gathering, seized Doctor Reston and took her back to their planet to treat one of its inhabitants.”
Haldor’s eyes narrowed. “Take me to the minister. Now.”
* * *
Mia knew enough to realize she was in the middle of a story that would bring her interplanetary fame. “Get those cameras rolling,” she hissed to her cyborg.
“I’d be happy to, Haldor,” she said sweetly. “Perhaps you’d like to put some clothes on before we go?”
She motioning to the cyborg to get a full shot of his body first, clad only in rough linen trousers held up loosely around his hips with a leather thong. Not all planets were as prudish about partial nudity as Earthers. These pictures would fetch a good price on the open market.
Haldor turned without a word and disappeared into his room. He strode back out in less than a minute. Mia took one look at him and drew in her breath. She’d interviewed beings from other worlds before. Tall spindly creatures with bulging eyes, fat formless ones from planets where it was impossible to tell male from female. She’d never seen a specimen as magnificent as this one.
When she had interviewed him for the East Metropolis broadcast, he’d worn a white uniform like all the other citizens. The only hint of his native garb had been the leather band around his forehead.
Now he could have stepped out of a hologram in the museum showing a Viking warrior ready to stride into battle. Haldor’s expression was fierce, the chiseled planes of his face clearly visible with his shoulder-length mane of dark hair tied back. The rough stubble on his jaw that men in the modern world didn’t have added to his savage look. A sleeveless leather garment with a huge tear in one side covered his broad chest. She could see the edges of an angry scar through the jagged opening. His massive shoulders and arms were bare, except for thick gold cuffs encircling both wrists. He’d tucked the loose trousers into a pair of leather boots laced up to his knees. A lethal-looking dagger hung from a loop at his waist.
But it was the broadsword in his right hand that had James taking a step back. Nearly four feet long from handle to tip, with a wicked double blade and an intricate design on the shaft. Mia guessed it weighed almost half as much as she did, but he wielded it as easily if it was a mere trinket. Good grief. If this was the kind of weapon that made the scar in his side, it was a miracle that Haldor had survived long enough to make it to Earth.
“Are you getting this?” she muttered. Her cyborg nodded, backing away to get a full-frame shot of Mia next to the huge man.
They headed for the elevator. “Oh, James… if you want to come out looking good when I edit this story, do not call the ministry and warn them we’re coming,” she ordered sternly as the doors closed.
Even with East Metropolis teeming with unusual-looking visitors from all the known galaxies, the crowds parted when they saw Haldor coming. Weapons were banned inside the dome but no one dared challenge him until they reached the entrance to the ministry.
A cadre of guards surrounded him outside the huge double doors. “Halt! Drop your weapons and get down on the ground!”
Before Haldor could react, Mia was by his side. “Let me handle this,” she pleaded.
“Make sure you get my good side,” she murmured to her cyborg. Then she stepped forward, holding out her hands, palms up. “Officers, I’m Mia Malone. I’m sure you all recognize me. I’ve been in every one of your homes.” She gave a tinkling little laugh. “Well, at least my hologram has. This is Haldor, the Viking from Gadolinium. He’s the one Doctor Reston brought back from the brink of death, the one I interviewed last week. I’m sure you saw it or at least heard about it. Please, let us in. As you can imagine, he’s frantic with worry about Doctor Reston. He means no harm. He only wants to talk to the ministers. I’ll vouch for him, take full responsibility.”
Slowly, dramatically, she stretched out her hand toward Haldor. He took it. Without waiting for permission, she led him past the guards into the building. A murmur went up from the crowd. Mia made eye contact with the camera, barely hiding a smile of triumph.
By morning, she and Haldor would be striding side by side, in hologram, into every home in East Metropolis, not to mention the homes in half the worlds with delegates at the gathering. Her bravery in reaching out and touching the armed savage, taking control and averting an embarrassing and potentially dangerous incident with the entire universe watching, might even earn her a commendation from the ministry. It would certainly earn her a handsome raise when her contract negotiations came due.
She’d been in the ministry barely an hour earlier when news of the story first broke and she led Haldor to a conference room on the 523rd floor where a hastily called meeting had been taking place. The closed door and nervous assistants scurrying up and down the halls told her the officials were still inside.
Two more guards stepped forward but this time Haldor didn’t wait for her to intervene. He brushed them aside and both went sprawling to the floor. He threw open the doors.
The crash as they hit the walls was almost as loud as the startled screams from those around the table.
* * *
Haldor took in the sea of deep blue uniforms around the table, dotted with pasty white faces. These Earthers all looked alike to him, especially now with their mouths gaping open like witless sea bass hauled up from the depths through a hole in the ice.
He scanned the faces one by one, recognizing Symon only because the man was trembling even more than he usually did when Haldor looked him dead in the eye. Crossing the room, he grabbed the puny weasel by his collar and yanked him bodily out of his chair.
“Can any of these people understand me? Do they have one of your machines in their heads?” He shook Symon as he spoke, but addressed his questions to Mia, who had followed him into the room with her cyborg, cameras rolling.
A man in pale blue standing behind one of the ministers at the far end of the table raised his hand. “I understand you,” he replied in Gadolinean. “I was chosen to travel through the Portal as part of Ambassador Anderson’s entourage. I had a chip implanted and studied your language for months. But I had to withdraw at the last minute when my mother passed. I planned to join them later, after her memorial service. But by then, they were all dead—along with many brave warriors on your planet.”
He tapped a closed fist to his chest three times. “None outlive the night the Norn have decreed. It is only by a whim of Uror, whispered over you on the day of your birth, that you stand among us.”
Haldor raised an eyebrow. “It is not only our language you studied.”
The man shrugged. “I planned to live my life with your people on Gadolinium. One must howl with the wolves one is among.”
The ghost of a smile flitted across Haldor’s face. “My grandfather always said that.” He turned to Mia. “I like this Earther.”
Ignoring Symon, who had been following the exchange with a look of fear mixed with confusion on his
face, he addressed the man again. “By what name are you called?”
The man took a step forward and inclined his head. “I am known as David.”
Haldor still held Symon casually by the collar with one hand, his feet barely touching the floor. “David, can you tell me what is known of Selena’s fate?”
“Yes. I’m assistant to Minister Jordan, so I’ve been here since they called the meeting. Security has recreated the entire incident with imaging scans.” He waved a hand and a miniature section of the Great Hall complete with holographic figures came to life at one end of the room. “Doctor Reston left the gathering immediately after receiving her medallion. She retreated to a nearly deserted level of the substructure, apparently seeking some time alone away from the crowds.”
The image followed Selena’s slight figure through the passages, finally showing her huddled against a wall.
“We’ve interviewed the lone survivor from the crew of a starship from the Consolis sector. Their ship was commandeered by a raiding party that entered their planet through a Star Portal. The delegation was slaughtered and the invaders took their place. They held the crew hostage to force the captain to make the journey here and relay the codes that would authorize his ship to anchor to the dome. Then they killed every one of them. The survivor hid on board and managed to evade detection long enough to allow him to crawl under the pile of dead bodies and stay there, unmoving, until they left the ship,” David continued.
“Once here, the invaders disguised themselves as Tridacians, those obese creatures who go about wearing formless long gowns and hoods. They tracked Doctor Reston to the substructure through the rare element her medallion was made of.” David waved a hand again and half a dozen blobs appeared on the screen, moving steadily closer to Selena.
The entire room fell silent, watching the struggle as the creatures overpowered Selena. They could see her struggle, then collapse as a needle was jammed into her neck. The scene ended as the creatures shoved her limp body into a large bag and dragged it along on the floor behind them.
“We tracked them back to the ship they arrived in,” David went on. “We’ve been in contact with officials from Daan33, a minor planet in the Consolis sector where the ship originated. As best we can tell, the invaders came from the other side of the universe, an area that remains largely unexplored and one where we have no diplomatic relations.” He stopped, as though the worst was yet to come.
“According to the Daan, they referred to themselves as Tabun.”
Chapter Nine
Tabun? Haldor raised his broadsword to the heavens and bellowed with rage. Would his fate be ever linked with those cursed beings?
When he was a child, the Tabun had invaded his homeland, slaughtered countless Gadolineans including his mother and father. A young King Sigrun, newly ascended to the throne, had assembled his warriors and drove them back through the Portal, only to have them return a generation later, led by Lord Balam. This time, they’d stormed the palace in Trondheim and took the king prisoner. Balam had planned to auction him off as a slave, along with dozens of other prisoners including Talia Anderson, the newly arrived ambassador from Earth.
Haldor and Sigrun’s son Kylar snuck into the auction in disguise and rescued Talia, along with three other Viking women held hostage. But Sigrun remained a captive, until the daring rescue plan hatched by Talia freed him. It was in the last fierce battle with Lord Balam that Haldor had thrown himself in front of the sword meant for the man who had been not only his king but also his foster father, suffering the wound that nearly cost him his life.
Now the Tabun had taken another from him. He hadn’t admitted to himself how much Selena meant to him until Mia told him she was gone. At first, their dalliance had been a game to him. Seducing the beautiful, innocent virgin. Introducing her to the pleasures of the flesh. Then mastering her. He loved her shy hesitation at first. Watching her blossom into a passionate woman, discovering her own dark desires as he demanded ever more submission from her.
But now that she was gone, he realized it was Selena who had mastered him. Subtly, over time, taken control of his heart. Haldor, the proud Viking who bowed to no one save his king, lived for those moments when he brought her to the peak, crying out his name, then held her as she melted in his arms.
He’d had wenches aplenty over the years. For one or two he’d nearly brewed a batch of bridal ale. Then another buxom beauty would saunter by and swish her hips, driving all thought out of his mind but to have her. Maybe age had caught up with him. Maybe good sense. Maybe you’ve finally found the one the Norn chose for you on that dark night when you came howling and wailing into this world. Whatever the reason, he was ready to lay down his life for the woman who had given life back to him.
The Earthers gaped at him, all frozen in fear.
“The Tabun have taken Selena?” he roared. “Where is your army? I will lead them into battle!”
“The ministry has begun the process of negotiations, Haldor.” A trained diplomat, David’s tone remained even. “As I said, Daan33 is a minor planet. We don’t have an ambassador there. But our envoy in the Consolis sector has sent a message through the Portal demanding the immediate return of Doctor Reston. The ministers have been here since we found out, weighing our options while awaiting the Tabun response.”
Haldor let go of Symon so abruptly he fell to the floor. He wrapped both hands around the handle of his broadsword and raised it over his head, then brought the blade slashing down where he stood midway along the priceless antique wood conference table. With a loud crack, the table split in two. The ministers scrambled back as the splintered halves crashed onto the floor.
“You sent a message? This is the only message the Tabun understand!” he roared. “You say they’ve taken Selena to cure someone? The Tabun value very few lives enough to take such a risk. Invading a gathering. Incurring the wrath of an entire federation. Now that they have her, they will never give her back. They would look upon it as a sign of weakness.”
He stared around the room. Most of the ministers crouched in their chairs. A few had fallen to the floor when he shattered the table and still lay there, too frightened to get up.
“By the time you wait for their answer and then argue over your options, like a roomful of old hags stirring your kettles and quarreling about whose potion works best, they’ll have finished with Selena. I know the Tabun. If she manages to save the man’s life, they’ll reward her by selling her to the highest bidder, as far away from our universe as possible. We’ll never find her. He’ll likely be some pox-ridden overlord of a distant world. She’ll be forced to spend the rest of her days either down on her knees sucking his withered prick or trying to cure him of whatever vile disease he’s contracted from his newest intergalactic whore.
“But if the one she’s been brought to save dies…” His voice broke, and for a moment he couldn’t go on. “If that happens, they may well send her back after all. In pieces. After they torture her to death.”
David translated, although from the horrified looks on their faces, most of the ministers had already gathered the gist of his words.
“Tell them I want a starship and a crew to take me to this Daan33. And I ask that they find three good men here on Earth to come with me. Brave men willing to lay down their lives to save this woman your world saw fit to honor. Warriors ready to step through the Star Portal and fight the Tabun—to the death, if they must. Whatever it takes to bring Selena home.”
Haldor went around the room, stopping at each face, memorizing it. Then he turned to David.
“Tell them one thing more. If Selena dies because they chose to sit here and do nothing, I will return—and hunt down every one of them. And even the Tabun tremble at the wrath of a Viking warrior.”
* * *
“Wake her.”
Selena gasped as a bucket of water hit her in the face. Choking and retching, she stumbled to her feet, then fell as a dizzying wave of nausea hit her.
She
landed hard, her head cracking against a stone floor. Rough hands grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back to her feet.
Selena opened her eyes and tried to force her blurred vision to focus. She stood in a dark room built of stone. It was impossible to tell the size, since the corners were thrown into shadow. Two men faced her, near enough to touch. Although barely five feet tall, they were powerfully built. They had large heads for their height, with broad foreheads and prominent brow ridges over deep set dark eyes.
Fragmented bits of memories flashed through her mind. Hands grabbing her. Injections in her neck. She had no idea how many there had been, only that they’d come every time she felt herself struggling to break through the darkness. Low, guttural voices. Unintelligible at first. Then a word here and there.
She’d been strapped into a spacecraft at some point. That she knew. And a strange dream after that, of being pulled through an endless tunnel that became narrower and narrower, feeling her body stretched apart as though it would be reduced to passing through it one atom at a time.
“Doctor Reston.”
Selena’s head wobbled. The deep voice came from the shadows, somewhere in front of her and slightly above. Her eyes gradually focused, adjusted to the dim light.
“Doctor Reston.” The tone was harder, sharper. “There’s no use pretending. I know you can understand me. You have the communicator in your head.”
He was right. Apparently in the time since they’d taken her, even while unconscious, the Tellex chip had been assimilating the words she heard, translating this foreign tongue in the language center of her brain. She didn’t know what language it was, but she could understand it perfectly.
She looked up. Ahead, five stone steps led to a raised dais dominating one end of the room. On it sat an elaborate carved wooden throne, covered in gold. Massive horns from some great beast formed the curved arms. Another set of longer, sharper horns crossed each other, rimming the back.
His to Tame (Alien Masters Book 4) Page 10
