Chapter 36: Jak
Jak took Tessa’s arm, drawing her close to him. "He’s here. Bolon’s here."
"You’re sure?" Her white cape swirled around her shoulders as she turned her head, looking hard at the people around them.
"Oh, yeah." There was no mistaking the feel of the Selok mind nearby, especially of that particular host body with its nasty mix of alien power and childlike temper. "And he’s coming this way."
Today was the big day, the Joining. Along with what seemed like everyone else in Tekena, they’d squeezed into the open arena at the entrance to the Black Palace. Once, it had been a vast bubble chamber, but now the roof was open to the clear, bright sky. Sunlight bounced off bright festival clothing, shining dark hair, and wreaths of red flowers. The sound of a thousand voices was a roar that grated on Jak’s ears. The smell of spicy food, perfume, sweat, and crushed flowers assaulted his nose and made his eyes water. He’d never liked crowds and, now that the strangeness was growing stronger, it felt as if they were all trying to push inside his skin.
Gritting his teeth against the unseen pressure, Jak looked around for a better place to make his stand against Bolan. They were close to the wall where a multitude of corridors led off from the floor of the chamber, each a different size and twisted in a slightly different direction. It was an irregular edifice, a vast, organic arena, filled now to overflowing with people who’d come together to celebrate the Joining.
"We have to get out of this crowd," Jak muttered.
Pulling Tessa after him, he moved toward the nearest corridor. At least they attracted less attention now that they were dressed in their new festival clothes. Jak thought he blended in well in his tan trousers and clean black tunic. He still had Tessa’s belt of bracelets around his waist, and he had his knife down his right boot. He’d abandoned the blaster in the Waste when the charge died. It wouldn’t have done him any good today, anyway. Everyone entering the Black Palace had been required to submit to a weapons search. The guards hadn’t found his knife, but only because Tessa had distracted them with smiles and flirtatious laughter while they ‘searched’ her. Unfortunately, the ban on energy weapons probably wouldn’t apply to Bolon.
Behind him, he felt Tessa’s hand clutching his shirt as he towed her toward the wall and the nearest passage out of the arena. She wore a dress of turquoise blue cotton with a short white cape over it, the sort of outfit an ordinary famer’s wife might wear for an important occasion, but Tessa was too beautiful ever to pass as ordinary. More than one pair of eyes followed her slender form as they moved through the mass of people here to celebrate the Joining. Jak wanted to get away from the crowd to give himself room to fight, and he really wanted to find a safe place to stash Tessa while he took care of this ugly business. But there was no safe place, not anywhere on Shadriss. The best he could was to keep her close beside him.
He hoped that by now, Kamura and Toko were in place in the throne room. If not, this was all for nothing. His sense of Toko was weaker than his sense of the Selok, parent to the strangeness within him, but he was pretty sure the boy was now somewhere in the Black Palace. Whether he was in a position to get his hands on the God Core was another matter.
"Is he still following?" Tessa asked.
Jak put his arm around her slender waist, pulling her close beside him. There were fewer people here, and there was room to walk side by side. They passed a woman in gold brocade who looked at Tessa with jealous eyes. Jak glared at her, but she hardly noticed him. Without the scar, his scowl just didn’t have the same effect, not even with demon colored hair and eyes.
"Yes. He’s close now. Really close. Watch for an empty room."
Walking quickly, they passed deeper into the corridors of the Black Palace. There were guards stationed along the way, dressed in n’Chall blue. But most of their attention was on the big crowd in the arena. One or two eyed Jak with suspicion, but smiles and giggles from Tessa convinced them that they were just looking for a little privacy.
Penetrating further into the palace, they found a table laden with trays of empty dishes. Tying her cloak around her waist as if it were an apron, Tessa took up one of the trays, and Jak followed with several more in his arms. They continued walking as if they knew where they were going, always moving away from any people they saw. The corridors grew narrower and more twisted, more obviously the work of the worms and not of men.
They must have circled almost halfway around the arena by now. Jak sensed that Toko was much nearer, and he felt the cold, eerie slide of the Selok’s thoughts at the edge of his mind. Bolon was still just behind them, as if waiting for Jak to make his choice. Or, more likely from what Jak knew of him, the crime lord was enjoying this stalking game. Still, they had to be approaching the throne room. He’d better find a place to fight soon.
Jak thought he could take Bolon. He’d been surprised on the barge, surprised by the big man’s strength and savagery, but he was ready for him now. So why were his hands sweating and his heart racing? He could feel Bolon, moving fast, coming closer, and the crime lord was coming alone. Jak and Toko had thought that would be Bolon’s choice, and they’d based their whole gamble on it. The child mind’s hatred for Jak was deep and personal. Jak had hurt him more than once, and he wouldn’t want to share what he was sure would be the destruction of his enemy. The Selok over-mind wouldn’t have approved, but they were counting on it being too busy just now to pay much attention to this wayward host body.
Jak and Tessa walked steadily down the corridor, following whichever direction seemed to lead away from the crowd. He was looking for a place with enough space to fight, and he found himself looking for a small room, even a closet or cupboard, where he could hide Tessa. Of course, even if he found such a refuge, getting her to stay in it would probably be more than he could manage. Maybe, if he could lock the door . . . .
"What about here, Jak?"
They’d wandered into what appeared to be a service corridor. Through an open door, she’d spotted a large, almost empty room. No one else was around. As they stepped inside, a single, dim light came on high on the curved ceiling. It revealed a round chamber about ten meters in diameter with a floor of cracked green tiles. The walls and ceiling were the glossy black of the worms’ secretions and covered with their strange glyphs. Jak had to look away from them; the writing seemed to pull at his mind, and he couldn’t afford to divide his attention, not with Bolon only steps behind them.
Broken furniture was stacked high around the walls, most of it looking as if it had been there gathering dust since the days of the Confederacy. But the central space was clear, leaving plenty of room to maneuver. They had only seconds. Jak dropped his load of trays on the nearest table, and Tessa followed suit.
"Stay behind me," Jak told her. His heart pounding, he knew they were out of time. "When Bolon comes in, you go out."
"Jak, I—"
Her protest ended in a scream as Bolon slammed into them both. The big man had moved so fast that Jak hadn’t even seen him coming. All three of them crashed into a towering stack of furniture. With a crack of breaking wood and the sound of ripping cloth, the whole mass avalanched down on top of them. Frantic, coughing on the dust, Jak’s one goal was to keep Bolon away from Tessa. He couldn’t see her, couldn’t feel her, didn’t know where she was in the mess. But Bolon was right on top of him, his body feeling as strong and massive as a bull lamnan. A huge fist smashed into the side of his head, and stars and lights flared behind his eyes. Shaking off dizziness, Jak charged forward, pushing that hard body toward the center of the room, away from Tessa.
Bolon stumbled backward, mouth working, repeating the same words over and over. Listening, Jak heard him saying, "Bad man. Bad man."
Oh crap! This was even worse than he’d anticipated. His stomach roiled. He had to remember that this was just one part of an alien and very dangerous creature, a part that he had to kill. A f
oot slamming into this stomach helped to remind him that he wasn’t fighting a child, no matter what it sounded like.
Bolon did have a blaster, but it was still tucked into his belt, with only the last centimeter of the handle showing above the soft folds of green cloth. Touch brought their minds closer. Bolon’s fists on his skin opened the host body’s thoughts, and Jak realized they’d been right; Bolon would save the blaster for the final moment. He wanted to make this slow and painful. He wanted to make it last, to savor Jak’s agony.
Jak ducked and rolled as Bolon remembered his knife. It was a black blade with a serrated edge, nearly half a meter long. In Bolon’s hand, it looked like a toy. A second swipe nearly took the top off Jak’s head. Jak pulled his own knife out of his boot. It wasn’t as big as Bolon’s, but it would do the job. He slashed and then danced back, drawing the bigger man to the center of the room where they’d have room to move.
Bolon as fast, unbelievably fast, especially for a man so big. But Jak was faster; he had to be. The fight was down and dirty, no rules, no honor. Bolon lacked n’Tau’s skill with a knife, but he had fantastic speed and strength. Jak managed a long, shallow cut near Bolon’s throat, but the big man ignored it. Blood splattered on the green tiles, but even as Jak watched, the bleeding slowed, and the gash closed. How could he kill someone who could heal like that? How could he even hurt him? And still Bolon pushed, driving Jak as no one else could.
Jak jumped back, evading a sweeping slash that would have laid him open from neck to navel. He crashed into another pile of stored furniture, adding to the mess. Kicking out, trying to clear his way, he swept a mass of debris aside to reveal a small form lying pale and still, eyes vacant, back twisted, a broken doll.
"Tessa!"
Jak’s world went silent, frozen in a black void colder than the depths of space. Bolon’s knife in his heart would not have been so cruel. The loss cut so deep that he couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything. Time slowed. A drop of blood from the tip of Bolon’s knife floated slowly toward the floor. The big man was still talking, but the words came to Jak through air as thick as syrup. The image of Tessa’s broken body burned in his mind. Bolon crashed into him, and he felt himself falling to the floor. He didn’t care.
Hands closed on his throat. It didn’t matter. Breath stopped, he felt himself struggling by reflex as Bolon’s weight crushed him. It didn’t matter. He heard the hateful voice still whispering its refrain, "Bad man. Bad man." That didn’t matter either. Nothing mattered anymore.
Omniphage Invasion Page 36
