“I didn’t see the robo,” she said in between gasps. “Maybe we fooled it, as you hoped.”
“We need any breaks we can get.” As soon as he reached the ground floor, he checked the front door, seeing no activity on this street, no surveillance overhead. “Deceptively quiet but too risky to go this way,” he said. “Let’s see what’s behind the house.”
The kitchen door opened onto an overgrown garden, where untrimmed trees had grown together over the years to form a canopy and the plants at ground level were a thicket. Johnny glimpsed a low wall at the rear of the property. “This is our best bet. Stay close.”
“You’re not losing me.” Her voice was grim but determined.
He led the way into the yard, making a path for her to follow through the tangled growth. As they were about in the center of the garden, he heard a sound overhead and crouched next to a toppled fountain, under a red-and-yellow flowering bush blocking the sky with its interlocked branches, holding Sara close to him. “The robo is directly overhead,” he whispered in her ear. “It can’t see us in this mess but if it has scanners set for humans, we can’t hide.”
“Why don’t you shoot it down? The enemy obviously knows we’re here.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He threaded the tip of his blaster through the branches, took aim and fired.
There was a small explosion in the sky and burning debris rained onto the garden.
Without a word, he turned and forced his way through the branches and foliage blocking the path, disturbing the vegetation as little as possible, but making a path for Sara to follow. He reached the stone retaining wall and risked a glance over the top. “Steep bank to a stream,” he said.“Sparse cover. But it we can reach the water, we might be able to grab some brush and drift with the current, camouflaged.”
The sound of blaster fire came from the direction of the house. Knowing they were nearly out of time, he boosted Sara over the wall and followed. It was more of a controlled slide down the incline into the stream than a descent. She lay at the edge of the water for a moment, spiking his concern. He grabbed her shoulder to roll her over. “You ok?”
Sara squinted and her face was screwed up as if in pain but she answered him with positive energy. “Landed hard but I’ll be fine. Now what?”
“Grab a piece of this tumbleweed stuff, hold it over your head and get into the water. “ He yanked at the nearest one himself, relieved the roots were shallow. “Might have to swim to the middle to find the current but go slowly. We’ll blend in with the other flotsam on the river. You can swim, right?”
“Nice time to ask, but yes.” She tucked her blaster away, took her selected camouflage and waded into the stream.
Hopes rising for a clean getaway as the strong current carried them to the west, Johnny floated past the edge of the town. There was a bridge coming up and then they’d be in the clear. As he calculated the odds, three Chimmer groundcars drove onto the rickety span. As the river carried him closer, Sara a little ahead, he watched the soldiers climb from their vehicles, lining the edge of the bridge, aiming their weapons at the water. “Not sure we’re here. Take a deep breath and dive, swim past the bridge submerged,” he said to her. He took three deep breaths, released his sodden tumbleweed and went under. The murky water carried a lot of dirt and algae, which would help hide him. When he’d passed the bridge and his lungs were demanding air, he surfaced slowly, only his face above the water, searching for Sara.
A scream drew his attention and he saw her being lifted from the water in a Chimmer entangle net. Stroking rapidly to the bank, he drew his blaster, took aim on the soldier operating the entanglement apparatus and blasted the alien. Sara plunged toward the water but immediately two more of the enemy snagged her with their weapons, raising her again. She was struggling, trying to get at her own blaster. Desperately he raked the bridge with blaster fire. There were only five Chimmer left. If he could kill or disable them, they might be able to get away.
Even as he had the desperate idea, he was lifted from the water, ensnared in a web of invisible energy. Twisting, hoping to get a bead on whoever had captured him, he saw a squad of Chimmer had come along the banks from downriver and were now watching him float in the air toward them with much gesticulation and soft cries of victory. The Chimmer were taller than humans, gray-white in color, long slender arms and legs. The heads were oval, dominated by huge, multi-faceted brown eyes. Two soldiers were reaching for him with their tentacle like fingers and he had the satisfaction of blasting one. The entangle paused its upward movement, and as he tried to take aim again one of the enemy pointed a hand weapon at him. A pulse of energy lit the net confining him and he convulsed as the force of the alien gun disrupted every nerve in his body. His blaster fell from his numb fingers into the river below and Johnny’s field of vision abruptly went black as his optic nerves spasmed. Fragments of thought raced through his mind like signals from a failing comlink and he knew no more.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When he woke he was still suspended in midair, unable to move, but this time encapsulated in a Mawreg specimen holder. For a moment he panicked. He wanted to puke his guts out but the enemy stasis kept even his interior muscles motionless. This was how he’d been held in the Mawreg prison camp, years ago. The enemy would come in and torture him, moving him here and there, inflicting pain, doing unspeakable things to his mind and body, watching to see what happened. How a human reacted to the things they did. Then the Mawreg would repair the damage inflicted and start over.
He’d sworn never to be taken alive by them again.
And now here he hung, in one of their fucking cages, a helpless prisoner.
And Mike wouldn’t be riding to his rescue with a hastily recruited squad of their Special Forces comrades this time.
But worst of all, Sara was in this prison with him.
He could see her, out of the corner off his eye, suspended in the same manner. She seemed to be mercifully unconscious, which wouldn’t last past the first second their captors made their appearance. Her eyes were open, because that’s how the Mawreg wanted it. No blinking, swallowing or even breathing right now. The stasis kept them alive. He wished he could speak to her but even the comfort of another human voice was denied while he and Sara waited.
Johnny focused his attention inward, where the terror and the memories were trying to drive him insane. He teetered on the brink of giving in to the madness because if he could descend far enough into mental chaos he might be lost, might not feel the torture, might be able to die more easily. It would be so simple to let go. He still had the checkout code buried deep in his brain. This stasis made it more difficult to access, whether the Mawreg were aware of the side effects or not. But he would get there, would find it, and would cheat them of their ownership of him and his pain. The blanket of madness would help him find the hidden Mellurean mental implant, the switch a man threw when he needed to die to preserve the Sectors secrets and his own. He’d been so close to using it when he was captured before but then Mike had come blasting into the compound and saved him.
His stasis cell moved a bit in the air through no action of his—probably a breeze from the ventilation shaft—and Sara drifted into view again. She was awake now, although he couldn’t have defined how he knew the difference, and terrified.
She had no checkout code. The stark truth penetrated his mental funk.
If he died right now, she’d be alone.
Johnny couldn’t abandon her. He could hope their captors might place the two of them together at some point, or grow careless, and he’d get close enough to snap her neck. The idea of killing this brave woman who meant so much to him was utterly abhorrent but in so doing he could save her from unthinkable pain and suffering inflicted by the Mawreg. Then he could die, once he’d made her safe from their torture. Maybe she’d even forgive him, if there was an afterlife. He took a mental step away from the brink. For a few precious moments he deliberately concentrated on his last afternoon’s ride in
the mountains of his home planet. The peace, the beautiful views, no one else but him and his two horses for hundreds of miles. More under control, he centered his mind so he could think in more than terrified fragments.
Two tiny spots of heat blossomed against his chest. Was this the torture beginning? But he remembered with awful clarity how the Mawreg liked to watch up close. And blessedly the chamber remained empty, except for Sara and him.
Before you were afraid. Now you are worthy to stand with us.
An oddly echoing voice in his head.
Tlazomiccutli is here, or his brothers and we must destroy him. But first we must escape this prison.
Now he feared he’d gone insane, slipped right past the edge of mental breakdown without realizing. Not only was there a disembodied voice he didn’t recognize in his mind, but it was talking about the ancient alien god of the planet where Mike’s wife Shalira was born. The one who—
He stopped the thought in its tracks for a moment. The one whose effigy had reminded him so much of the Mawreg, triggering a major flashback at the worst possible moment. He’d nearly blown the entire mission, until Shalira had saved him. Never mind reviewing what else happened later when he actually met Tlazomiccutli.
You remember, the voice insisted, sounding oddly proud of him. You are worthy. We must GO.
Red fire blazed inside the cage, cold rather than burning him, filled with tiny blue and purple sparks that danced over his body. Released from the stasis so suddenly he collapsed on the floor, Johnny lay winded by the impact for a moment. The burn and bites on his leg ached from striking the stone surface.
Rolling over with difficulty he rubbed his chest, where the two mysterious spots of heat intensified. He touched the cherindor necklace Shalira had given him and yanked his fingers away as the metal threatened to burn him. He pulled the necklace outside his shirt by the chain, seeking relief from the painful contact.
Staggering to his feet, Johnny made his way to where Sara hung in her stasis cage. Body not working too well yet, he lost his balance, and knocked her three or four feet away. Her container rolled and tumbled like a child’s toy as the cage drifted.
“I have to get her out of there,” he said to the voice in his head. He stumbled to the far wall, where there was an installation resembling controls to his human perceptions. Hesitating, he flexed his fingers inches away from the panel. What if his careless tinkering with these buttons and tabs initiated the torture sequence? Or sent out an alert?
He swung around to stare at Sara, who watched him, unblinking. Cursing, he wished for his blaster. Mike set him free, four years ago, by blasting the hell out of the cage controls.
You waste time.
“Free the woman like you did me.” His voice echoed in the unfurnished chamber.
You belong to the empress. She claimed you as worthy. Therefore you belong to us. This one means nothing to us. Our empress does not recognize her.
He fell to his knees as the pain spread from the hot points on his chest, passing right through the fabric of his uniform shirt, radiating through his body along his nerves and blood vessels. The cherindor wanted him on the move. “I won’t leave her,” he said, gritting his teeth.
Fool, the time grows short. We smell the demon god.
Yeah, he smelled it too now, the stench of the Mawreg. Fists clenched, he commanded himself to think of something. There were two exit doors from the lab and her stasis cage wouldn’t fit through either. This was the torture chamber and no one left. He stood. “She belongs to me,” he said, deliberately, staring at her. “She is mine. Therefore through me she belongs to the empress. You have to save her.”
We HAVE to do nothing, foolish warrior.
There was a moment of silence and Johnny feared the cherindor had abandoned him, although the heat branding his chest continued unabated. “Please—” For Sara, he would beg.
We CHOOSE to serve the empress. We grant your request on her behalf.
Next moment there was a blaze of blinding light and he backed away from the glare as it coalesced into a cherindor, the lionlike creature with three red eyes, blazing with power, a wickedly barbed tail lashing the air and powerful wings, now folded along its spine. He’d assumed the statues on Mahjundar were oversize carvings but now he realized the cherindor was huge, standing easily six feet at the shoulders. The beast wasn’t really there, only an outline, limned in red flames, but an impressive predator nonetheless. On paws wreathed in iridescent flames, the creature stalked to where Sara’s cage hung, reached up with one massively clawed foot and yanked on the transparent membrane. There was a tearing sound and a small explosion and Sara fell. Johnny couldn’t move fast enough to catch her but he managed to partially break her fall.
The cherindor phantom whirled as he struggled to his feet, Sara helpless and moaning in his arms. Now we go. The beast went to the far door and stood on its hind legs, front paws braced against the portal. Flames spurted in all directions, obliterating the door, only a black smoking mess remaining. Johnny jumped the smoldering threshold and ran down the corridor he found, taking the left hand fork from force of habit. The smell of the Mawreg increased in intensity, the reek clogging his throat, but the stench came from behind, not ahead. The cherindor ghost ran at his heels.
A wave of the alien stench assaulted him and he nearly dropped Sara. A bolt of energy scored the wall at the level his head had been a moment prior as the enemy shot to kill. He wished for his blasters. All he could do was keep running, trying to get to safety.
Tlazomiccuhtli.
The voice in his head sounded enraged, more of a growl than a word. He turned his head as the cherindor pivoted on its hind paws, wheeling and bounding in the direction they’d just come. At the far end of the corridor, he caught a glimpse of several Mawreg oozing around the corner, and had to close his eyes for a moment against the sheer wrongness of the alien. With no idea what the cherindor might do, he kept the best pace he could manage, praying this corridor led away from immediate danger.
A tremendous explosion sent him sprawling, Sara under him, and flames shot above his head, singeing his hair, followed immediately by waves of thick, choking black smoke. “Can you crawl?” he said to her.
“Yes.” She got to her hands and knees and moved off.
The sound and shock wave of a second explosion, less powerful, reverberated in the corridor. Whatever offense the cherindor had mounted against what it perceived as the ancient enemy of its kind, had been extremely effective. And probably not repeatable. He tried thinking to the beast but got no answer. He was on his own now.
“Which way?” Sara asked, voice hoarse from the smoke and desperation.
The corridor branched ahead of them, with no indication what might lie in either direction.
Lords of Space grant he chose correctly. “Left.”
Able to rise to his feet now, he grabbed Sara by the elbow and ran. Closed portals lined both sides of the hall and frustration ate at his nerves, not knowing what lay behind the doors. Weapons, more prisoners, exits or disaster?
Sara slowed, plastering herself to the side of the corridor. She pointed ahead, where several doors stood open. Putting a finger to his lips and pressing her to remain motionless, he crept forward until he could peek cautiously into the chamber and assess the danger. He saw at a glance the room was empty. An awkwardly designed workstation sat in the center, and video and data were streaming in thin air in several spots around the room. Drawn by the subjects of the video, he took a step into the chamber and stopped, anger and disgust overcoming him.
He heard Sara behind him and moved to prevent her from seeing what he was watching but too late. She gasped, bending over, retching.
The video documented Mawreg experiments, mostly on Farduccir tribespeople, but also a few humans.
“What are they doing?” she asked, voice shaky, keeping her head averted.
“No one knows. The Mawreg are unfathomable to us. I should capture this data,” he said. He flipped a m
ental switch and concentrated on the data streams rather than the horrific visuals.
“Capture the data?” She checked the hall and paced to his side, tugging at his elbow. “We’ve got to keep running.”
“I have a memory upgrade implant,” he said, ignoring the building headache as data streamed into his head. “For occasions like this.”
“You can’t possibly capture it all.” Tears streaming down her face, she shoved and pushed. “You’ve got enough, we have to go.”
“If you had any idea how many good operators died on missions over the years, to retrieve a fraction of this kind of data, you wouldn’t stop me.” He shook her off as if she was nothing more than a small kitten, and focused on the displays wide eyed.
Sara prowled the room, anxiety making it difficult to breathe. She glanced at Johnny but he remained glassy eyed and locked on the data. How much could he take in without frying his brain? She’d heard rumors of the specialized memory implants but nothing encouraging. She stopped, drawn to a holographic display rotating in one corner. A web of colored lines and boxes, part of it seemed familiar to her. Excitement making her heart pound, she thought she recognized the room they’d been held in and the pattern of corridors she’d fled through. With her finger, she traced the line representing the hall she presently stood in, and memorized a set of twists and turns leading to the surface, or at least outside the confines of the construction.
She had a damn good memory, not up to the standard of Johnny’s military grade implants but enough. Taking a deep breath, she committed as much of the diagram to memory as she could and then walked over to deal with Johnny.
Blood dripped from his left ear in a steady stream and his eyes bulged. He swayed on his feet.
Hostage To The Stars: A Sectors SF Romance Page 10
