Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears

by Cyndi Friberg

  Pern pushed two fingers deep into her core and smiled into her eyes. His thumb circled her clit, once, twice, again. She groaned, needing release so badly her entire body shook. Each demanding throb of her core accented the thickness of Jaden’s shaft already lodged inside her.

  “Say it.” The command was misleadingly soft, as if she had a choice.

  “I’m yours,” she whispered.

  He increased the speed and the pressure of his caresses. “You’re my what?”

  Spasms of pleasure unfurled within her, and Ensley bit back a scream. Her inner muscles constricted in powerful ripples as she stared into his eyes. Currents of heat and awareness flowed from her body, beckoning him into the flames. His lips parted as if he would protest, then his breath released in a harsh rush. He positioned himself at her entrance, his gaze unfocused and wild.

  “Gema?”

  Her heart leapt at the sound of her name. “Berk, my love.” Her spirit soared as he filled her again and again. Reality narrowed. Jaden ceased to exist. She searched Pern’s gaze, longing for a glimpse of her beloved. He thrust harder. Her body opened, accepting all of him. Gripping her waist, he drove deeper and deeper still.

  She clenched her hands, her nails biting into her palms. Where was Berk? Why wouldn’t he reveal himself to her?

  “Gema ...” His breath escaped in a ragged hiss, his eyes squeezed shut, and he released his seed. Contorted with intense pleasure, his features were barely recognizable. He shuddered and moaned, then went still above her, inside her.

  His lashes fluttered. He raised his lids and looked into her eyes. Inky blackness encompassed the rings. She didn’t need to speak his name. She freed her spirit, reaching for him as he stretched toward her. They fused. The world ceased to exist. There was only Gema and Berk, as it was meant to be. They stared into each other’s eyes, the longing receded, two halves were made whole.

  Oh, how I’ve missed you. Berk’s familiar voice sounded within her mind, then blue rings burned through the black and despair surged through her.

  No! Don’t leave me.

  Panting harshly, Pern separated their bodies and shook his head, his expression muddled and angry. “Have you been teaching her your disgusting mind tricks?”

  Jaden released her legs and bucked his hips, reminding her that she was still “anchored” on his throbbing shaft. “I have no idea what she’s trying to do, but this is not the first time she’s spoken that name.”

  “Make her explain her actions. This was -- unsettling.” He swung his legs off the bed and stood. “If she is not fit for tomorrow’s mission, I need to know now.”

  * * * * *

  Saebin clenched and unclenched her hands. The knot inside her stomach tightened as they circled the City or Tears. Their approach to the Day Moon had gone unnoticed. Still, Lyrik insisted on taking everything one step at a time.

  “Not a blip, not a peep. We’re invisible.” Dro Tar sat at the communications panel, one leg tucked under her.

  “Or they want us to believe we are.” Lyrik made an adjustment on the console in front of him. “We’ll continue in concentric circles until we’re spitting distance from the Warlords’ Headquarters.”

  The plan was simple. Enter Cyrus’s office the same way they’d boarded the Gale. Trey would be ready with a distraction in case the overlord managed to sound an alarm. Hopefully they’d be in and out before Cyrus realized what had hit him.

  “There are three men inside the office. Two near the door and one behind the desk,” Lor informed them.

  “Trey warned us that the entire COT is on high alert. The overlord is milking the scapegoat angle for all it’s worth.” Lyrik shook his head, his jaw working as he lapsed into silence.

  “He’s expecting us to retaliate.” Saebin sat in a chair attached to the perimeter wall of the bridge. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”

  “You and I will have to enter first.” Lyrik glanced at her and heat washed over her body. Saebin didn’t resist her armor’s resulting adjustment. There would be time to indulge their passions after the overlord was locked in the brig. “We don’t want your mental pulse to turn off anyone other than Cyrus and his guards.”

  “I can close the conduit for a second or two, then reopen it.” Krysta sat beside Saebin as the others maneuvered the ship.

  “Will that insulate you from the compulsion?” Lyrik asked.

  “It should.”

  He nodded and returned his attention to the holographic display in front of him.

  “Are you all right?”

  Saebin looked at Krysta and managed to smile. “My input rings are buzzing. I need to convince him D-159 is in control, but I want to confront him with all Saebin knows.”

  “Good cop, bad cop.” Dro Tar piped in without looking up from her controls.

  “Pardon me?” Krysta asked.

  “It’s an old Earth technique. Go ape shit on the bastard, just have a ‘good cop’ there to rein you in before you do any real damage.”

  “Does that make any sense to you?” Saebin whispered to Krysta.

  Krysta laughed. “You can indulge a bit of your aggression, and Lyrik will be there to pull you off. Often the person being interrogated will respond to the ‘good cop’ knowing the only alternative is dealing with the ‘bad cop.’”

  “What if we both want to be ‘bad cops’?” Lyrik muttered.

  “You need to decide,” Lor interjected. “We are officially spitting distance from the Warlords’ Headquarters. We are undetectable to scanners, but we aren’t transparent. If someone opens those blinds, they’re bound to notice the spectacular view is missing.”

  Lyrik pivoted away from his control panel and stood. “Hover just above the roof, Lor. There are pressure sensors. Saebin and I will be the first wave. If all goes well, we won’t need a second. Krysta, Dro Tar, and Zane, be prepared to back us up if we run into trouble.”

  The ship was positioned directly above the overlord’s office. A large store room was situated directly across from the brig. All they had to do was get Cyrus into the transport conduit, then shove him into the cell across the narrow corridor.

  “Let’s go.” Lyrik motioned toward the lift.

  They rode the lift to the utility level and followed the corridor to the store room. Lyrik held the door open, while Krysta constructed the transport conduit. Lyrik and Saebin dropped through as soon as the vortex stabilized.

  Saebin projected a mental pulse ahead of her, so the shots caught her by surprise. The guards hurried toward the opening as Saebin returned fire. Why hadn’t they gone down? They should be unconscious.

  Using a tight shoulder roll to avoid their well-aimed barrage, she advanced toward the overlord who was still seated behind his desk. She caught one of the guards in the neck, propelling him backward. The second lunged for her, his weapon firing in staccato bursts.

  Cyrus shouted something, then grunted as Lyrik delivered a vicious uppercut to his jaw. A narrow beam arced over Saebin’s shoulder and dropped the second guard. She glanced behind her and found Dro Tar standing beneath the mouth of the vortex.

  “Move! They’re on to us,” Dro Tar called.

  Lyrik heaved his father to his shoulder and jogged toward the transport conduit. The office door burst open as the vortex sucked them back onto the Gale. Angry shouts and wild weapons’ fire erupted as Krysta collapsed the conduit.

  “Go! Lor, get us out of here,” Lyrik shouted into his audiocom.

  The ship shuddered, then lurched forward, banking sharply to the left. Saebin steadied herself against a storage bin, but Lyrik slammed into the wall. They paused for a moment, waiting for the trajectory to stabilize before continuing on toward the holding cell.

  Lyrik dumped the overlord onto the narrow bunk with a disdainful glower. Stepping out of the small cell, he activated the energy field. “Let’s put some distance between us and the COT.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Saebin stood outside the holding cell staring at the unco
nscious overlord. Like Dr. Hydran, this man’s corrupt nature wasn’t evident in his features, but his actions spoke eloquently of his weak character. They had to act quickly. Every second they waited increased the chances her handler would learn of Cyrus’s capture and bolt.

  Lyrik hadn’t given her specific instructions when he hurried back to the bridge. She hesitated another moment, then sent a mental compulsion into the overlord’s mind. Nothing happened. The pulse should have jolted him back to wakefulness.

  His resistance to her abilities was a new development. He had responded instantaneously when they stole the Gale. This was further proof that he had planted the assassin or at the very least was involved with those responsible.

  He groaned, rubbing his bruised jaw as he focused on his surroundings. “Where am I? What is the meaning of this?”

  She wanted to laugh at his imperious tone, but she was D-159, emotionless, unable to function beyond her handler’s directives.

  He scooted off the bunk and stood, tugging on his uniform top with an angry jerk. “What is your objective?”

  She stared at him silently, maintaining an expressionless mask.

  “Did you hear me? D-159 report. What is your objective?”

  “She doesn’t answer to you, old man.”

  The rush of excitement caused by Lyrik’s voice was harder to conceal than her resentment. He stepped up beside her, arms crossed over his chest, and glared at his father.

  “You won’t get away with this,” Cyrus said. “They’ll hunt you down like --”

  “Like an overlord who’s selling his people to the highest bidder?” Lyrik’s voice dropped to a menacing growl, and he moved closer to the energy barrier. “Who’s backing your play? The Kitinians? The Rodytes? Or a discontented faction on Bilarri? The gadget we dug out of Tann’s head was far beyond our technological capabilities.”

  “You can’t pretend you’re not as frustrated as we are. I’ve seen the exasperation in your eyes.”

  “Who is ‘we’?” Lyrik’s expression never wavered, but Saebin heard the subtle change in his voice. Cyrus had found a chink in his armor. She didn’t fully understand the conflict, but Lyrik wasn’t immune to it.

  “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re content on Ontariese.” He paused, his brow raised in challenge. “The Mystics are trying to take over. This has been brewing for a long time.”

  Ignoring his father’s manipulation, Lyrik asked, “Where did Tann get the implant? For that matter, where did you?”

  “Tann’s was a prototype. We weren’t sure it would work.” The overlord glanced at Saebin, then returned his attention to his son. “How could you turn traitor over -- that? She’s the biological housing for a sophisticated set of integrated implants.”

  “Your argument might be more effective if you hadn’t sacrificed your honor and abandoned your responsibilities in pursuit of that same technology.” Cyrus didn’t respond to the charge, so Lyrik continued. “Back to the implants. Where did you get your latest toy?”

  “War has been inevitable ever since the High Queen was rescued. We won’t be caught unprepared.”

  “According to whom?” Lyrik flared. “War is never inevitable. There are always choices.”

  “The Joint Council argues about clarifications and traditions that haven’t had any real meaning for generations. All the while they subtly shift the balance of power. If we don’t stand up for ourselves, we will have nothing left to defend.”

  Lyrik rubbed the back of his neck, fatigue etching lines around his eyes and mouth. “And your solution is to blow up a ship full of innocent people?”

  Cyrus snorted and threw his hands in the air. “The Bilarrians are part of the problem. Only those with powerful Mystic abilities have any value on Bilarri. The Joint Council is using their society as a template for ours. If this alliance is allowed to solidify, you will be part of the discarded underclass. Why can’t you see what they’re trying to do?”

  “Who is supplying you with the technology to resist the Mystics?”

  With a defiant glower, Cyrus turned his back on Lyrik and returned to the bunk. “You’re too late. It’s already begun.”

  * * * * *

  Ensley pulled the snug-fitting cap over her head and secured it to her shield suit. Her three-member team was well equipped and efficient. She would present the Level Four child to the Stirate. She must. Jaden was on the verge of passing her on to the crew. She could sense his displeasure. He sat in the pilot’s seat of the small space craft, watching every move she made. He’d been especially cruel after the bizarre incident with Pern. She couldn’t explain what had happened the night before, didn’t understand it herself. It was as if someone else had taken over her thoughts and feelings.

  “You can’t afford to be distracted.” His harsh tone cut into her musing.

  “I understand the mission.”

  “Our only advantage is surprise. We are not yet ready for a frontal assault.”

  She didn’t respond to his badgering. Instead she rechecked the pressure in her energy canister. Every time she made a tight fist, the canister expelled a burst of energy through the thin tube on the top of her gloves. Creating an external version of her munitions implants had been Jaden’s idea. They made a good team, or they had until last night.

  She motioned D-2-5 and D-2-6 toward the hatch with a careful hand signal. They followed without hesitation. Mystic Brook flowed through the clearing not far from the ship. Penetrating the shield without notice was impossible, so they would only have a matter of minutes to execute the plan. As well as possessing the standard weaponry, D-2-5 was able to teleport, and D-2-6 had been fitted with the containment field mechanism that had performed flawlessly in the laboratory. Secure in their arrogance, the Mystics would never anticipate a brash invasion of their sanctuary.

  Unable to suppress her smile, Ensley paused for one last scan of the Conservatory. The Level Four child was in a room near the center of the sprawling building. Two adults were with the child, and others moved about just beyond the room.

  “Concentrate, D-2-5. You must put us inside that room.”

  “Affirmative.”

  They moved into formation, weapons ready, back to back. Resisting the urge to close her eyes, Ensley accepted the colorful vertigo as D-2-5 opened a transport conduit. She gritted her teeth against the painful ringing in her ears and waited for their destination to manifest. The overwhelming roar eased, then the blinding light. They emerged in a small, warm room.

  D-2-5 pivoted, aiming both fists at the door. A female held the Level Four child, so Ensley grabbed her from behind, positioning her hands strategically. “If I tighten my fists, a stream of energy will be expelled into your brain and the brain of your child.” She knew the woman wasn’t the child’s mother, but she didn’t want to reveal their true purpose too quickly.

  The child’s father stood three steps away. Ensley knew how quickly he could move or change shape. She’d seen him in action on Earth before D-159 incapacitated him. The effort nearly killed D-159.

  His bright green eyes took in the scene with shrewd deliberation. Could he shift through their bodies and snatch the child from the woman’s arms? He narrowed his gaze, and Ensley’s implant vibrated as it dispelled his mental compulsion.

  “Not so powerful now.” She smiled triumphantly, and D-2-6 launched the containment field.

  The Mystic went wild within the translucent sphere. He pounded against it, he shifted forms, he shouted and screamed, but no sound penetrated the dense energy field. D-2-6 sank to her knees as she struggled to maintain the sphere.

  Though the female Mystic remained perfectly still, her body temperature rose at an alarming rate. Even through her armor Ensley’s skin began to burn. “Let’s go,” she snapped. She had only planned to snatch the child, and she wouldn’t risk losing him now.

  Leaving D-2-6 to maintain the containment field, Ensley and D-2-5 stepped back into the transport conduit.

  Chapter Twenty

/>   “Who are they? What did they promise you?” Lyrik rolled his shoulders and looked at Saebin. This was useless. The overlord wasn’t going to tell them anything. Cyrus sat on the bunk, staring at the wall beyond Lyrik in mutinous silence.

  Time for good cop, bad cop.

  “I’ve expanded D-159’s parameters.” He paused, waiting for the overlord to react. Cyrus maintained his expressionless demeanor. “D-159, new objective. Interrogation.”

  “Objective accepted. Provide data.”

  The familiar phrases brought Cyrus’s head up. He looked at Saebin, then turned his rapidly spinning gaze on Lyrik. “You wouldn’t.”

  “The overlord has information in direct opposition to the greater good. You must learn who is supplying him with the technology we found in Tann and the ultimate purpose for the association. Do you understand?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Cyrus shot to his feet, his forehead deeply furrowed, jaw working frantically. “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re damn right I don’t understand! So, explain it to me. What are you planning, and why shouldn’t I shoot you where you stand for high treason?” Lyrik’s audiocom beeped, and he tapped the device so hard it nearly came loose from his ear. “What? I’m a little busy right now.”

  “I need you on the bridge. Tal just ... just get up here.” The terror in Krysta’s voice sent a violent shudder down Lyrik’s spine.

  “Copy.”

  “Bring Saebin with you. Dro Tar is already on her way down.”

  Posting a guard was probably overkill, but Lyrik wasn’t taking any chances. He motioned for Saebin to follow him, and she did without question.

  “What’s going on?” Cyrus asked.

  Lyrik ignored him.

  Dro Tar stepped out of one lift as the doors slip open for the other. “No worries, mon capitaine. I’ll torment him for you.”

  Despite the tension knotting his belly, Lyrik smiled. The lift whisked them to the bridge, and Krysta began her frantic explanation before the doors slid shut behind them.