by Cara Bristol
Qalin probably wouldn’t kill his only son, but Perce still had good reason to worry. Anika touched his sleeve. “He will understand that you could not retrieve a body teeming with cachinna.”
“What are you talking—oh!” Perce’s eyes widened.
“She died when the conveyance was beset upon by a swarm of carrion beetles,” Anika coached.
Perce’s head bobbed. “Yes. I remember.” Color dotted his cheeks. Anika hoped his flush was not a betrayer of falsehood, or he was doomed. “You will vouch for me?” He glanced between Anika and Urazi.
“We will stand by your side when you deliver the news, if you like,” Urazi said.
“I would be most grateful.” A relieved smile broke out on the young alpha’s face, before it clouded over again. “But what shall I tell him about the loss of the other females?”
“Did he give you a quota?” Anika asked.
Perce shook his head. “Just to acquire as many as I could. I hired the conveyances as I needed them.”
“Have you communicated with him since the start of the mission?”
“No.”
“Then don’t report the number of breeders lost. Tell him Anika rode alone in the conveyance.”
“But he will question why I did not fill it up with more breeders.”
“Anika was a bothersome female and needed to be isolated,” Urazi cut in, devilment glinting in his eyes. “You feared she would instigate an insurrection among the others.”
“Oh, that is good.” Perce nodded vigorously. “I do not normally lie to my sire—to my Alpha.” His cheeks bloomed in contradiction.
Anika stifled a groan. Perce was a terrible liar. For his sake—for all their sakes—they would have to gamble arrogance would lead Qalin to mistake guilt for fear.
She glanced at Ylos tending one of the beasts on Perce’s conveyance. He was a witness to the truth. Could they trust him to lie? Or would fear force the facts from his lips? “And what of your beta?”
Perce’s turned and regarded Ylos. “He has been loyal and has served me well. But I’ll kill him to ensure his cooperation.”
“No!” One moment Perce appeared young and callow, the next he displayed a disturbing penchant for homicide. Which was the real Perce, she wondered?
The alpha stared at her.
“What Anjot means,” Urazi jumped in, “is that another death might appear suspicious, and for what purpose would a beta appear before an esteemed Alpha Commander?”
“They do not normally,” Perce agreed. “Other than my sire’s scribes and, of course, his anointed ones.”
That could not be right. Anika shook her head. “Did I hear correctly? He has more than one anointed beta?”
“Yes. He has a marakem.”
“How many betas are in his marakem?”
“Five at present. My sire’s passions run high, and betas do not last very long. When he tires of them or they annoy him, they are executed,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
No wonder Perce had been so quick to consider killing Zala and Ylos. In his world, people were an expendable commodity. What would happen if they fell astray of his good will?
* * * *
Once underway, Anika leaned close to Urazi. “I should have listened to Zala. Freed not only her, but all the females.”
“That would not have worked.” Urazi’s tone was hushed. “You would have drawn Perce’s wrath.”
“But if Qalin can dispose of his betas, a female’s life is worth nothing.”
“It is worth far more than you think. Qalin uses betas, but he does not need them. He has an exigent requirement for females to populate Parseon. I cannot begin to estimate how many people have died.”
“All those bones.” Anika shivered.
Urazi opened his mouth, started to speak, and then stopped.
“What is it?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. I do not wish to alarm you.”
“Which is it? Is it nothing, or you do not wish to alarm me?”
“You worry for the betas and the females. I fear more for our safety.”
“Because of Perce.”
“Yes.”
“Of what will happen to us when he no longer needs us.” In her mind, she could hear the talia hiss. “When I first met Perce, he seemed most congenial. But after his outburst at the camp and the way he would kill Zala and Ylos—well, the acca does not fall far from its bush.”
“Except he is not hard like a nut,” Urazi added. “He is not Alpha material.” When Marlix was his age, he was already in Alpha training. Perce’s has been delayed. I cannot think of anyone less suited for command. He is too unpredictable. He lacks maturity and foresight to implement good strategy.”
“Do you suppose Qalin realizes Perce’s unsuitability?” Anika wondered aloud.
Urazi tightened his lips into a thin line. “He would have to, would he not? Qalin is prone to excesses, and nepotism helped install him in power, but it took more than the might of his guards to keep him there. Marlix believed Qalin had been biding his time with the intention to invade the other provinces from the beginning.”
“Qalin is more patient than I realized,” Anika commented. “He has been Alpha for a long while.”
“He is—was—the oldest Alpha on the High Council. I do know his exact age, but he has surpassed fifty years.”
“So time is running out to beget a suitable heir.”
“Yes, although, if Qalin has his way, he will never abdicate his position.”
“Perce said Qalin had dozens of offspring, all female.” A chill crept over Anika. Betas were executed because they bored the Alpha. “What do you suppose happens to the breeders who fail to produce the desired male offspring?”
Chapter Sixteen
Dwellings sprouted up across the countryside. Trees disappeared as population increased, and from chimneys wafted a smoke so thick and black, Urazi wondered what the fuel could be. The noxious odor revealed it was not wood.
As habitation density thickened, so did a pervasive misery. It spread like the blackened smoke that darkened a daylight sky to twilight. Housing units became as ramshackle as the refugee hamlets, making Icor’s camp appear prosperous by comparison. The people appeared gaunt, their uniforms hanging slack as if rations fell short of adequate sustenance. The area appeared more devastated than the war-torn territories of Marlix and Dak—yet no fighting had occurred in Qalin’s province. Urazi suspected the hardship in Province One had begun long before battle lines had been drawn.
Lording over it all were the omnipresent holograms — Qalin in ceremonial uniform, medallions of bravery adorning his neck.
Gradually, wooden structures gave way to crumbling stone ones, their roofs caved in or lacking altogether. Refuse from which nothing salvageable remained piled up on the roads. Rank decay mingled with the noxious black smoke. Scrawny children scurried among the debris, larger ones beating up on the smaller ones. Adult males idled, meanness carved out of despair on worn faces.
In one congregation, five alphas in guard uniforms took turns using a beta, his soot-blackened, bloodstained brown uniform twisted around his ankles.
Anika’s eyes rounded with shock. “What misery war has wrought.”
“War did not do this,” Urazi said grimly. “Qalin keeps his people in abjection.”
They halted their conveyance at a stone barrier. Some distance beyond it, a towering gleaming spire touched the sky. The massive gray wall itself stood higher than the largest edifices of Loraq and stretched—as far as he could see—at least half the length of the capital city itself. Wooden gates wide enough to allow passage of three conveyances abreast were shuttered and guarded.
To each side—and up above on the wall itself—stood defenders armed with laser projectile devices. But it wasn’t the weapons that drew Urazi’s stare—but the guards, the creatures themselves.
“Are those Veronians?” he gasped in low voice.
“Yes,” Anika answered. “I recogni
ze them from Omra’s description.” When Dak’s former beta Corren grew jealous of Omra, he had tried to sell her to the Veronian emperor.
One of the creatures separated from the pack to confer with Perce. Two spindly legs and a long, thick tail supported a scaly, leathery body. Red eyes wept in a hideous face without nose, ears, or lips. As Urazi watched, the creature inserted a device that hung around its neck into a slit cut just above what might be considered a chin.
“What do you think it is doing?” Urazi whispered.
“That inhaler allows it to survive in our atmosphere.”
With a nod at Perce, the creature lumbered toward them.
“Whatever you do, do not let it touch you,” Anika muttered. And then the Veronian stood before them, its rheumy gaze seeking out Urazi. His morning rations curdled in his stomach at the odiferous slime oozing from the creature’s pores. Monto, the smell! Dangling between its legs was a hose-like appendage, also covered with the gelatinous substance. The alien peered into the back of the wagon. Females screamed. Its facial slit twisted.
The Veronian raised a three-finger hand, covered by an elasticene glove. “Awll cleaaar. Let them paaas!” he shouted, a garbled command.
It took six guards to tug open the massive gate.
“Ayaa!” Perce shouted. His transport jerked forward without delay. Urazi wondered if he too was revolted by the Veronians.
Urazi applied the quirt to the beasts, and they followed Perce into the walled city. He heaved a sigh of relief when the massive gates closed and locked. Poverty and neglect had choked the hamlets, but, here, a grand and magnificent municipality sprawled. Stark impoverishment outside, unparalleled resplendence inside—separated only by a wall. He gawked at the abrupt change, but he could not forget the Veronians.
“Did you notice they wore gloves?” he asked.
Anika nodded. “In case they hand something to a Parseon guard. That substance coating their bodies is caustic. If they touch you, the exude will melt your flesh.”
“They are shocking to behold, and I am surprised to see them at all. I had assumed aliens had been evacuated upon declaration of war. But if you are Qalin, treaties do not matter, I suppose,” Urazi mused.
Anika snorted with laughter.
“I do not see the humor.”
“I am still thinking about the Veronian. Did you notice its manhood?” Anika’s shoulders shook. “It’s alienhood.”
“That is what caught your attention?” Urazi gaped at her.
“I tried not to gawk. But one could hardly avoid it.” Her eyes glinted with merriment. “Your manhood is much prettier.”
“Than a slime-covered alien’s? Little compliment you pay me,” he said, but a smile crept over his face. Pretty was not word he would have ascribed to his organ, but that he pleased her, pleased him. He had the urge entwine their fingers, but he dared not. From this point forward, they must act with utmost restraint and caution.
He shifted his attention from Anika to the display of pristine streets cobbled in round, white stones. Beautiful, to be sure, but how much effort and energy had it taken to mine and lay such perfect orbs? Could not the money have been better spent to feed the populace?
Buildings of the palest, rarest marble embedded with precious gems flowed one to the other. And everywhere—statues of Qalin in a variety of poses. Betas, on hands and knees, scrubbed the grand streets.
Of citizens, Urazi counted few. The only people who seemed to be around were caretakers, cleaners, and alpha guards in ceremonial dress. Could the city be preparing for a parade or some other jubilation? The conveyances skirted the perimeter of a large courtyard containing a gigantic fountain. Standing in its center was another statue of Qalin, his arms outstretched, water spraying from his palms to splash upon the marbled tiles.
“Look!” Anika nudged him and pointed upwards at the gleaming telenium spire topped by a single star. The tapering pyramid column stood atop a huge dome of the same precious metal. Four other starless domed and spired structures, impressive but far subordinate, marked four corners around the towering homage to Qalin. Domination cast in telenium and marble.
“The five provinces of Parseon,” Urazi murmured. “Qalin above them all.” Had the other alphas visited this city, the Alpha’s intention would have been immediately evident.
In his periphery Urazi caught sight of a cloaked figure, head bowed, dashing along a columned corridor. The long robe flowed as he—or she—ran. He could not tell if the person was male or female because the opaque fabric concealed the entire body from head to toe, leaving only a slit through which to see. The figure slipped through a doorway into a building and disappeared.
“Strange,” Urazi commented.
“Indeed.” Anika’s brows drew together.
Next to the edifice into which the veiled figure had vanished, Perce halted his conveyance. Urazi pulled theirs behind his. Immediately, as if they were watched, expected or both, half a dozen betas emerged from the habituation unit. At least Urazi thought they were betas. At first glimpse, he thought them breeders in male attire, due to the absence of male musculature and the smoothness of almost-female faces.
Perce and Ylos vaulted from their conveyance, and Urazi and Anika did likewise.
“Honor to the brave,” each beta intoned. “Glory to Commander Qalin.”
“Honor to the brave. Glory to Commander Qalin,” Urazi and Anika joined with Perce and Ylos. Qalin’s son jerked his head toward the conveyance. “Unload the transport and take the breeders to the stable. Prepare them for examination.”
“At once, alpha,” replied a beta in a soft, almost-female voice, but the salute he snapped was as crisp and sharp as any alpha guard’s. He motioned to the others, and they hurried to obey.
Perce beckoned. “Come. From here, we must proceed on foot.” Without waiting to see if they followed, Perce began walking. Urazi nudged Anika, and they trotted after him. The road changed, white marble veined with gray replacing the cobblestones. No wonder they had left the conveyances behind. Marble was not a resilient mineral, and the weight of the conveyances and clop of the beast’s hooves would destroy the stone.
A cry rent the air, and Anika and Urazi glanced back to see one of the betas applying the conveyance quirt to a female’s backside. “Are you lame? Hurry your pace, or the lash will quicken it for you,” he shouted.
Anika looked at Perce. “Will not the betas be tempted to use the females?”
“Would if they could,” he replied.
She cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“Those are a special rank of betas, raised from youth to oversee the Alpha’s breeders. During training for the position, they are castrated.”
Urazi’s testicles retracted, and he suppressed a shudder. Do not think about it.
“Where are we going now?” Anika asked, not missing a step. Of course, she had no testicles at risk.
“I will escort to you to your guest quarters, so you may rest, and then I shall request an audience with my sire. I will summon you when I have approval.” Perce stopped in his tracks. “We agreed, did we not? You will accompany me to verify the death of the female known as Anika?”
“Of course,” she replied smoothly. “I only wondered how far we must traverse on foot before we reach Alpha Qalin’s domicile.”
Urazi had wondered the same thing. The city looked huge.
Perce arched his eyebrows, and he swept his arm in an encompassing arc. “Did you not know? This is my sire’s abode.”
* * * *
With the heel of her palm, Anika hammered on Urazi’s door.
No response. She waited a moment, and then pounded again. Nothing. The panel was constructed of a dense wood, but he should have heard her if he was in his quarters. Biting her lip, she glanced down the marbled corridor. Could Urazi have gone to meet Qalin? The prospect unleashed a torrent of ambivalence—relief she would not have to confront the most murderous Alpha to ever rule, and a contrary pique that Urazi had proceed
ed without her. Of course, he could not choose the time and venue—Qalin controlled that, which gave rise to fear for his safety. If Qalin bought Perce’s falsehood, the bounty on her head would be lifted, but Urazi would remain endangered. She shuddered to contemplate what would occur if Qalin discovered he had Marlix’s most trusted aide in his custody.
Anika had raised her hand to beat on the door again when it was flung open. Urazi stood there, half hidden behind it. “Hurry. Come in.” He grabbed her arm and hauled her into the chamber. In the hand that had been hidden by the door, he gripped a dagger. He tucked it into a sheath strapped to his thigh. “Why did you not answer when I asked you to identify yourself?” he demanded.
“I did not hear you call.”
“The walls must form a solid sonic barrier.” He paced the chamber, avoiding the floor tapestries depicting famous battle scenes in Parseon history. Anika shook her head in bemusement. She had tapestries in her chamber, too. Why were the fabrics not hanging on the wall? Who would put them on the floor where they could be ground underfoot?
“Sit. You are making me nervous.” Anika gestured to the huge, round sleeping platform. Until she’d been taken in by Marlix after Jergan’s death, Anika had slept on a straw mat. But even though she’d come to know the comfort of a padded, raised pallet, the ones at Qalin’s abode were far more luxurious than any she’d ever seen.
With childish pleasure, she had bounced on her sleeping platform. She’d removed her boots and jumped on it, trying to touch the domed ceiling painted with more battle scenes. She tilted her head and peered into the dome over Urazi’s platform. Yes, his, too, had pictures.
“What are you looking at?” He followed her gaze. “Oh.”
“Everything is quite….” Anika searched for a word. “Opulent.” Ostentatious. The decadent marble, the telenium adornments, the spires, the jeweled inlays, and the tapestries, contrasted with the ugliness of Alpha himself. Or at least as he was depicted in the holograms and the statues.
Urazi stopped pacing and punched his fist into his palm. “It dishonors Parseon for a Commander to live in such extravagance and wealth while his people wallow in squalor, barely eking out an existence.”
