Very shortly, Captain ‘Ga Lunik appeared on the command bridge. He looked irritable and uncomfortable. He seemed ready to kill something. Seeing the messenger, he advanced on him furiously. “Why do you wake me? Have you no manners? Don’t you appreciate the value of dreamtime? Especially the dreamtime of a superior?”
The messenger remained stiff and unbending before ‘Ga Lunik’s obvious anger. He simply held out the security case before him. “Your thumbprint, sir?”
‘Ga Lunik scowled, speechless. The rudeness of this youth startled and annoyed him. He studied the boy’s face with more than casual interest. Perhaps he had underestimated the strength of character displayed here. He suppressed his displeasure and thumbed the recognition panel. It flashed red for a moment as the security device conferred with the starship’s computer, requesting confirmation that the bearer of this thumb actually held the office of Captain aboard the Lady’s Imperial Starship. After a moment more, the panel flashed green and the security case popped open.
‘Ga Lunik reached in and pulled out a sealed document. He broke the seal on the papers and glanced at them quickly. His eyebrows lifted momentarily. He handed the papers to his waiting executive officer. “You will need to begin making preparations for this immediately.”
The executive officer took the papers and read them immediately. He nodded and turned away, quietly issuing orders through his headset.
“You should look at the recorded greeting as well,” the messenger suggested to ‘Ga Lunik.
The Captain of The Golden Fury looked into the security case again and withdrew a set of coded information cards. He sorted through them, selecting the one with the yellow seal of the Regency on its face. He stepped over to a reader and laid it flat on the plate.
Immediately, a holographic image of Kernel d’Vashti appeared before him. “Captain,” he said. “Greetings. Thank you for the hospitality you have shown my messenger. Your courtesies will not go unrewarded.”
‘Ga Lunik glanced sideways at the messenger, wondering briefly if the boy had shared d’Vashti’s bed recently. If so, that might explain the other’s concern for the welfare of the young officer. ‘Ga Lunik reconsidered his plans to have the child’s head sent back to d’Vashti without any accompanying note.
“Captain, you will please do me the great honor of informing the Lord of the Dragons that a great fleet of Marauders stands ready to move out. We have assembled at the final staging area. I have sent this messenger ahead so that you may prepare adequately for my arrival. He carries all appropriate instructions.”
d’Vashti’s image bowed, then added, “I would not presume to intrude upon the Lady Zillabar’s privacy. I know how much she cherishes her time alone. Nevertheless, when the appropriate moment arises, I would appreciate it if you would convey to her my sincerest good wishes for her comfort and happiness. I look forward to seeing her again, and I will bring her many delicious gifts. Again, thank you.”
The image of d’Vashti faded away.
‘Ga Lunik remained motionless, staring sourly at the space where only a moment previously, the Phaestor Lord had arrogantly stood.
“You have a problem?” the messenger observed.
“No,” said ‘Ga Lunik.
“I would have guessed otherwise,” the messenger replied smugly. “From the look on your face, it seemed as if you did not welcome this news.”
“You have no idea what the expression on my face represents,” ‘Ga Lunik snapped testily, but he knew the messenger had observed his reaction accurately. He snapped his fingers for the attention of his executive; the officer stepped quickly to his Captain’s elbow. Without taking his eyes off the messenger, ‘Ga Lunik said, “I regret to inform you that you have failed to please your master. His written greetings instruct me to dispose of you as I see fit.” To the executive officer, he said, “Have this rude boy executed immediately.”
“Sir—?” gasped the messenger.
‘Ga Lunik cocked his head curiously at the other’s protest. “You demand an explanation? You may have it. I do not always kill the bearer of bad news, but in this case . . . the bearer smirked.” He gestured, the executive officer gestured, and two security officers stepped up to escort the messenger away.
“d’Vashti won’t like that,” observed the exec.
‘Ga Lunik nodded knowingly. “If events continue to occur in the present as we have observed in the past, then I do not expect that either you or I will remain alive long enough to incur the brunt of d’Vashti’s displeasure. At least this sends him a correspondingly nasty message in reply. I will not die without honor.”
Having expressed that much candor, ‘Ga Lunik resumed his authoritarian bearing and ordered, “Go. Summon the Dragon Lord to the bridge. Let him hear the bad news next. At least, I can enjoy watching the play of expressions on his ugly face. He’ll probably react with as much enthusiasm as I did. Now for sure he’ll have to find Zillabar immediately. This gets more and more interesting.”
As the executive officer started to away, ‘Ga Lunik added an afterthought, “Oh, and one more thing. Mobilize our own Elite Guards. Issue them the strongest weapons we have—weapons that can kill Dragons, if such an event should become necessary.”
“Yes, Captain.” The exec bowed respectfully and hurried off.
Dupa’s Wart
Sawyer and Lee struggled with the medical cabinet containing Finn, lifting it carefully off the antigrav sled and lowering it to the rocky surface of Dupa’s Eastern Wart.
Then . . . distastefully, they removed the silence helmet from Zillabar’s head and helped her down from the sled. Zillabar, still in shackles and restraints, hissed at their touch and pulled away so violently that she slipped and tumbled, falling painfully onto the rocks and rolling dangerously close to the edge of the precipice.
“Whoops!” said Lee. “She almost saved us the trouble.” He looked to Sawyer. “Listen, if we decide that she has to die—I want to do it.”
Sawyer shook his head. “After what she did to Finn, I have first dibs.”
Three-Dollar stepped between the two men. “No. If she has killed the TimeBinder, I will take her life. . . .”
Both Sawyer and Lee turned to stare at him. Sawyer spoke for them both. “I thought TimeBinders didn’t believe in killing?”
Lee asked the question even more directly. “What about the Alliance of Life?”
Three-Dollar shook his head. “You didn’t let me finish. And after I take her life, I will take my own because I’ll have betrayed my own principles.”
Sawyer and Lee looked at each other, confused. They exchanged shrugs and then went to retrieve the Lady Zillabar from her unceremonious sprawl in the dirt. Sawyer bent to the lady and grabbed her arm tightly, jerking her upright to bring her face level with his. He slapped her hard across the face with the back of his other hand. She spat at him. He slapped her again, this time harder. “I slapped you the first time to get your attention. I slapped you the second time to let you know that I expect you to behave like a lady. If you cooperate, we’ll treat you with courtesy. If you treat us with contempt, we’ll disgrace you so badly that even your own people won’t want you back. I promise you that my imagination knows no bounds when it comes to obscene behavior. Lady or pig—you choose.”
She considered his words without apparent emotion. She studied his eyes. “How can I behave like a Lady if you insist on acting like a barbarian?”
“I don’t know how to behave otherwise, my Lady. You do.” Sawyer looked at her quizzically. “Or do you?”
In answer, she turned her back on him.
Sawyer grabbed her by the arm and walked her roughly back to stand next to Finn’s medical cabinet. He looped her chains through one of the handles of the casket, locking her to it. “You put him in there,” he said. “You’ll help carry him.”
“We walk from here?” Lee asked.
“Only a short way.” Sawyer turned to the air-boat and locked in his evasion program. He activated it and
stood back. The boat hummed and lifted. Sawyer and Lee pushed it off the edge of the precipice. It dipped toward the jungle below, caught itself and then began sliding away across the sea of dark leafy trees.
Sawyer checked on Finn’s condition, then switched on the cabinet’s local antigrav field, and the four of them—Sawyer, Lee, Three-Dollar, and Zillabar—each grabbed a handle at the corner. Sawyer shook his head at the unlikely committee that they formed, allowing himself a sardonic reaction to the way the whole situation had developed.
He pointed toward the faintest hint of a trail. “We go down that way—”
The trail, a narrow path of dirt, led down over the edge of the cliff; someone had painstakingly carved it out of the naked rock, all the way down. It spiraled uncomfortably around the face of the wart, sometimes wrapping around the curve of rock, sometimes cutting back and forth across a sheer cliff face. In many places they could only proceed single file, an almost impossible task with Finn’s casket between them. Had the cabinet not had its own levitation panels, they would have had no choice but to have left it on the top of the rocky pillar.
Every so often, Sawyer glanced back to monitor Zillabar’s behavior. Curiously, she had become impassive, neither cooperative nor disobedient. She had withdrawn inside herself and reacted not like the haughty queen he had grown used to, but instead as emotionlessly as an insect attendant. She had become a zombied shell of her former self.
Sawyer wondered if she had gone mad. He had heard of such things—of Phaestor aristocrats subjected to such hardship, perversity, or just sheer indignity that they willed themselves to death. They simply withdrew from their own lives and let their bodies wither away. Sawyer worried about it. This did not bode well.
He wondered about the Lady’s near-catatonic behavior. On the one hand, it made her much more manageable, but on the other hand it gave them much more to worry about. Or did it? Did her demeanor even matter anymore? They had not yet decided among themselves what they should do with her.
They didn’t dare return her to the Phaestor aristocracy. The Regency would demand immediate revenge. The incredible offense of taking the Lady Zillabar a hostage demanded horrible punishment. The Vampires would run amuck on a dozen worlds, killing and feeding every human they could find.
On the other hand, as long as they kept her hostage, the Vampires and Dragons would scorch the land bare in their search for her. They would wreak every bit as much violence in their search for the Lady’s captors as they would in retribution after they found her. The situation held no victory for the humans. They had a Vampire by the horns. They couldn’t let go of her, they couldn’t hang on.
No, the more Sawyer thought about it, the more he felt sure that they would have to kill her—disgrace her and then kill her. They would have to disgrace her so badly that her own people would not want her back. The thought made him smile grimly. The Lady certainly deserved such a fate. He wouldn’t shed any tears over her. He began to brood over suitable destinies. Perhaps they could allow a family of pig-men to pay two caseys a piece for the opportunity to fornicate with her. . . .
No. He didn’t want to insult the porcines.
Besides, if any species became known as the singular agents of the Lady’s downfall, the rest of the Phaestor would hunt that species into extinction. No, he wanted something disgraceful, but unpunishable. Something brought about by the Lady’s own actions, if possible.
Sawyer couldn’t think of anything. It frustrated him because it belied his image of himself as a clever man. “Well, we could always stuff her into a black hole,” he muttered in annoyance. “That has a certain implosive charm to it. If only we could send the rest of the Regency there with her.”
The thought echoed in his head for a long moment.
Reluctantly, he began to realize the truth of it. The Regency would not allow the Lady’s kidnapping to go unpunished. It had seemed like a good idea at the time—a Plan B that allowed Sawyer and Finn and the other rebels a chance to escape the Lady’s delicious hospitality; but in retrospect, it now became apparent that like it or not, Sawyer and Finn would have to lend their talents to the rebellion. They had no choice. At the moment, they took the Lady captive, they had guaranteed that the Regency would invest all of its resources in their destruction.
He remembered his vow, the one he had made in the Lady’s prison cell, and it left him uncomfortable. “I will not rest until I have destroyed the Lady Zillabar, and if necessary, the entire goddamned Vampire aristocracy!” He’d said it in anger at the time, but now he realized, he might actually have to live up to those words. Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken with such certainty. The universe had apparently listened and believed him and had conspired to put the Lady Zillabar in his power. Now he would have to do what he promised.
“I don’t mind having an enemy or two,” Sawyer said to himself. “A little controversy makes life interesting—but I think I’ve become an overachiever. This will not make Finn happy. Hm. Maybe I won’t tell him. . . .”
A Lesson in Manners
Eventually, they descended into the canopy of the unbroken forest. The path continued to wind around the face of the cliff, only now the leafy ceiling shaded them, and the many smells of the jungle became a rich soup of fragrance. At last, they came to a broken shelf carved out of the side of the column. It lay sheltered beneath a dark overhang of rock, almost a cave. Here, the path ended against solid rock.
Lee stopped in annoyance. “Now what?” he demanded.
Sawyer said, “First we put the casket down; then we rest.” He eased the casket down to the ground and switched off its levitators. He bent to the controls to check on Finn’s condition. It had not changed, but he remained there with his brother for a long moment.
Three-Dollar leaned against the cabinet. He looked tired, but not exhausted. After a moment, he noticed that Zillabar hadn’t moved. He tugged on her sleeve and guided her to a similar rest, sitting on the end of it.
“What happens after we rest?” Lee demanded from Sawyer.
Sawyer turned away from the medical casket. “We still have a long way to go,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.” Sawyer shrugged out of his backpack. He pulled out a ration-bar and began unwrapping it. He bit off a mouthful and began chewing it loudly. When he noticed that Lee still waited for him to answer, he gestured with the rest of the bar. “I suggest you do the same.”
Lee turned around, frustrated. William Three-Dollar stood behind him, offering him another ration-bar. “Sawyer knows his business. Eat.” The TimeBinder turned then to Zillabar and offered her a packaged meal. The Phaestor queen appeared not even to notice the gesture. The TimeBinder waved his hand slowly in front of her eyes. She blinked, but she didn’t focus.
Three-Dollar looked to Sawyer with a question on his face.
Sawyer nodded in response. “I see it.” He shook his head as if to say it didn’t matter one way or the other.
“Her welfare remains our responsibility, Sawyer.”
“If you think I’ll donate a pint of blood every time we sit down to rest, you’ve got another think coming.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Then what did you mean? What would you have us do?”
The TimeBinder didn’t answer. Instead he took a ration-bar, unwrapped it completely, and placed it in Zillabar’s hand. “You must eat something. You must keep your strength up.”
Zillabar sat motionless and unmoving. Her grip loosened and the bar slipped from her fingers.
Watching this, Sawyer grunted in annoyance. “You don’t understand the Vampires very well, do you?”
“I understand them better than you. I have most of their history right here,” Three-Dollar responded, tapping the TimeBand around his forehead.
“But you haven’t seen them as I have,” Sawyer replied. He eased himself to his feet, crossed to Zillabar and stood in front of her. He picked up the fallen ration-bar from the ground and handed it to Three-Dollar. “Hold this,” he said. Th
en he slapped Zillabar again.
She blinked. “Don’t do that,” she said. But her expression remained unchanged.
Sawyer pulled his arm back to slap her again. Three-Dollar grabbed it and held him back. Sawyer jerked his arm free and glared at the TimeBinder. “You have to speak to them in their own language!” he said. He slapped Zillabar a second time, even harder than before.
She started to lift a hand—Sawyer knocked it away and slapped her again.
“This gives you pleasure!” Three-Dollar accused.
“Damn right it does!” Sawyer snarled back. “But even if it didn’t give me pleasure, I’d still have to do this. Consider it a job-benefit that I get to beat on Vampire women!” He slapped the queen again.
Finally, at last—
Zillabar rose haughtily to her feet, her eyes glaring, her hands curled into defensive claws, her lips curled back from her teeth, her face contorted in rage and fury. “How dare you lay a hand on me, you filthy barbarian beast! How dare you even presume to touch the sacred flesh of a Regency aristocrat! I’ll have you filleted alive and served to the rats who eat the garbage of the street!”
Sawyer ignored her rage. He took the ration-bar from Three-Dollar and held it out before her. “Eat. If you don’t eat this, I’ll cram it down your throat until you choke to death on it. If you ever again try to refuse an order from me or any of my companions, I’ll strip you naked and parade you through the center of the dirtiest back alley of pig-town! You’ll do exactly what we tell you or you’ll discover the true meaning of dishonor—and you’d better believe it when I tell you that I know dishonor.”
“I believe it,” she replied haughtily.
“Yes, you should. I learned it all from watching Vampires at work and at play. I know what happened at Drydel’s secret villa. So does Lee—and half a dozen other witnesses. So don’t give me any more of your disgusting arrogance. You and your kind have no higher role to play than the stingflies that suck a man’s blood in the forest. In my eyes, you live as a parasite, sucking the blood of others and giving nothing in return but death, disease, and despair. If you died right now, I’d dance on your corpse and sing a song of disgusting fornication. I know more than a few. But we need you alive and you’ll stay alive! If you try again to will yourself to death, I promise you, you’ll live just long enough to regret it.”
A Covenant of Justice Page 10
