by Sara King
Ragnar smiled. “Sounds like Dad.” He glanced at him. “Must be pretty interesting to be trapped in a glass jar.”
“Not very.”
Ragnar hesitated, raising his nose to take in a deep breath. “Do you smell anything? I was wandering in circles for days looking for the kitchens. I can’t smell worth a damn. Anatomy’s too difficult to replicate.”
Stuart took a deep breath. Despite her nasal polyps, his host had a good sense of smell. He shook his head. “Not here. But I’ll tell you if we get close.”
Ragnar grunted. “So where are you from, Stuart? Where were you born?”
“I hatched in a communal growing medium on Mitaan.”
Ragnar gave him a startled look. “The suzait homeworld? I thought…” His eyes narrowed with recognition. “Mitaan was towed into its star millennia ago.”
“It was,” Stuart agreed.
Ragnar gave him long, a calculating look, but in the end simply nodded. “You knew life before humans, then?” He sounded almost wistful, his voice filled with longing. “Before they colonized the Quads?” He watched Stuart, waiting.
“It was nice,” Stuart agreed. Then, seeing the sudden yearning in Ragnar’s face, he added quickly, “But I try not to dwell on the past. It only makes the present harder to live with.”
Ragnar’s face hardened and he turned back to their path. “They don’t belong here.”
Stuart had nothing to say to that.
“How many of your kind are left?” Ragnar demanded.
Stuart began to feel uncomfortable. He shrugged.
With a bitter laugh filled with contempt, Ragnar said, “You don’t know, do you?”
“There’s others,” Stuart said. Then, with less confidence, “There has to be.”
Ragnar snorted. “You could be the very last of your kind and you still don’t hold it against them, do you?!”
“Of course I do!” Stuart snapped, despite himself. “I just…” He hesitated. “I think we can work together.” His alternative was…unthinkable.
Ragnar laughed, at that. “They’ll never see you as anything other than a worm, Stuart. Trust me on that.”
Stuart stubbornly refused to believe that. He would have agreed, before he met Dallas, but now…
Now that little spark of hope had been lit again. A hope he hadn’t experienced since the death of the last harra, with Mitaan’s plunge into its own star.
Because Stuart’s host’s arthritic joints were beginning to hurt from the walking—and because he knew that he and the shifter were never going to see eye-to-eye—he used the distraction to stop and gesture at the never-ending hallway. “I don’t think we’re gonna find any food up here. If I were a cook, I’d want it down on the bottom floor near the docks. Who’d wanna carry the raw materials all the way up to the top floor to get to the kitchen, anyway?”
“I don’t think Juno cares.” Ragnar gave the massive walls a bitter look. Huge and mostly empty, they were more a testament to the woman’s ego than anything else.
“I don’t think Juno runs everything in this place,” Stuart retorted, before the shifter could start giving a treatise on the insanity of the human race. “Come on. Let’s go down and take a look.”
“I’m tired of climbing stairs.”
“I’m the one with arthritis.”
Ragnar sighed deeply. “Fine. You lead, you old gimp.”
Stuart started down the stairs. He hadn’t gone more than four floors when he stopped, frowning. “What’s that noise?”
“Sounds like shouting.”
“Sounds like a mob.”
“If that’s the case, we should get moving.”
“Why?” Stuart cried. “We should check it out. Maybe somebody started a revolution.”
Ragnar winced. “And go toward the screaming monkeys?”
“Scared, shifter?” The sound was rising, making the halls thrum with human shouts. Thousands of them.
Ragnar peered at him. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Maybe it’s the dinner line.” At that, Stuart began walking.
“You sure you’re a suzait? You’re walking in the wrong direction.” At that, Ragnar took the lead, walking toward the noise with open interest. They came to a solid wall across the hallway, which gave them pause. Before this, neither had seen anything blocking the hall.
From the other side of the wall, human voices roared, shaking the air in Stuart’s host’s lungs.
“They’re cheering,” Ragnar said, stepping to the seaweed and leather door set into the center of the wall. Stuart followed, curious.
What they saw made Stuart forget to breathe.
Rites of Passage
After she made sure she wasn’t being followed, Athenais spent some time hiding in an abandoned room near the basement. She stayed a few hours longer than she thought she needed to, a nagging unease thrumming at the back of her mind. The fact that the entire island palace wasn’t in some sort of uproar over her disappearance left her…troubled. Juno obviously had the power to set the entire place on its ear looking for her, yet the stone hallways remained utterly quiet.
Almost like they’d been quarantined.
Shaking off that paranoid feeling, Athenais finally set out for the roof. She had made it halfway to the upper floor before Juno stepped out of the shadows in front of her and floored her with an elbow to her throat.
“We tagged you before you woke up, bitch.” She tapped a handheld unit strapped to her belt. “Had a feeling our lonely little dog might wander off.”
Athenais struggled to her feet, coughing.
“So the parasite came along with you?” Juno snarled, sounding betrayed. “One of your crew?”
“Never seen it before in my life,” Athenais managed. A true statement.
“Oh?” Juno laughed, her black eyes bitter. “Then why’d you save it?”
“I was aiming for the worm.”
“Of course you were.” Juno gave her a smug look, the look of a woman so convinced of her own superior intellect that she simply could not see the forest for the trees. “Now why would you go and do something like that?”
Athenais peered at the woman, realizing there wasn’t much left of her childhood friend. Not that they had been friends for more than a couple years in gradeschool, before her parents got moved to another service station, but whatever had been there, ages ago, was well and truly gone. What was left didn’t even seem human. More a robot with a god complex than anything else.
Athenais fought down the goosebumps that that particular thought brought with it. Facing Juno stubbornly, she said, “You were acting like a petty child with an ant. I thought I’d ease its suffering.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, I missed.”
Juno scoffed. “You think I believe that? You’ve fought in every skirmish you could find for the last seven thousand years. Why would you miss?”
“You moved.”
“Right.”
Athenais shrugged.
“So where is it, Athenais? It wasn’t in the hall.”
“I flushed it down the toilet.”
“Oh?” Juno gave her a smug, malicious smile. “Then why’s there dried blood in your nose?”
Before Athenais could respond, Juno drew her gun and shot her in the head.
When Athenais woke up, a few hesitant rays of sunshine were slipping through the window above her. Well, that went well, Athenais thought.
Suddenly, the island-wide intercom blasted through her room. It seems I have unwelcome guests infiltrating my home. Because of that, we’re going to go about things a little differently from now on. I have Athenais. You are all aware of her condition. If you do not come forward and turn yourselves in, I am going to drop your captain in the deepest part of the ocean hugging an anchor. The oceans on this particular planet can get over ten miles deep. If you still refuse to come forward, I’ll follow up with Colonel Howlen and his girlfriend. By now you know I do not make idle threats. At that, Juno hung up.
At
henais stared at the ceiling, wondering why Juno wasn’t threatening to do the same to Rabbit.
She was still lying on the floor an hour later when Juno came in, toting an entourage of Warriors. “You hear that, Athenais? You’re one step closer to visiting the bottom of the sea. I guess we’ll see who your friends really are, won’t we?”
Like a child with an ant, Athenais thought. Reluctantly, Athenais sat up. She was surprised to see a few of the same Warriors from her escort in the hall the night before. Apparently Juno hadn’t killed them.
“Nothing to say?” Juno gave her a self-satisfied smile.
“I thought Fairy and Howlen got away.”
“The good Colonel brought her back.” The sneer, as well as the absolute smug pleasure in the woman’s blue-green eyes left no doubt that it was the truth.
Athenais’s mood darkened. Leave it to Rabbit to choose a disgruntled Utopi bastard as crew.
Juno laughed. “No, he didn’t turn on you. He did it to save the useless girl’s life. . Seems she was the original carrier of that parasite. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean, he did it to save her life?” Howlen was smart enough to know that Dallas was probably his only ticket off this rock, which meant he wasn’t going to give her up without a fight.
“She went into shock,” Juno said. Body started shutting down. Makes sense, now I look back. The parasite must’ve jumped ship just as soon as he got planetside. I’m surprised she could even fly a freighter.”
“Surprised me, too,” Athenais said. It must’ve been killing her inside to fly cargo. Then she smiled and shrugged. “But I wasn’t going to complain.”
Juno gave her a hard look. “Here are my terms, Athenais. I want the shifter and the parasite. Once I have them, you can take Rabbit and the two lovebirds and go home. I’ll even give you your ship back.”
“I need the shifter and the parasite to break into Marceau’s labs.”
Juno scoffed. “Rabbit told me about that. It isn’t going to work.”
“I still want to try.”
“Go ahead,” Juno said, smiling. “But the aliens stay with me.”
“Juno, if you helped us, we could wipe out the Potion.” Athenais hated to play this card because she didn’t want to have anything to do with Juno or her help, but if it was the only way to get away from her insane little fiefdom, she would use it.
“They’d just re-invent it somewhere else,” Juno said, waving an imperious hand. “Besides, how does that help me?”
Athenais had been waiting for this. She spread her hands. “It would create widespread panic, the perfect opportunity for you to launch your attack against the Utopia, carve out your own little section of space and replace Marceau as the regent. You could give yourself a whole Quad of planets to shape in your own image, instead of a few islands of bottlenecked, primitive morons.”
Juno hadn’t told her about her plans, so Athenais delighted in watching the nasty little cogs in the woman’s brain work as she tried to figure out who had told Athenais that particular tidbit. Apparently, being the only educated person on a planet whose populace had been intentionally inbred for the last two millennia had left her believing she was the only life-form capable of formulating an idea.
Apparently coming to some conclusion in her mind—judging by the cold twist of rage that crossed her face—Juno said, “Rabbit already tried to sell me on this and failed, and he’s a much better negotiator than you are.”
Seeing the hardness in Juno’s eyes, Athenais wondered which of the poor, innocent souls on Juno’s staff was about to be executed. Though she knew it wasn’t going to do any good, she said, “And before you kill someone for telling me about your brilliant scheme, I figured it out on my own. Took me all of about twenty seconds to piece together that work of genius.”
Juno’s eyes narrowed with raptor-like intensity. “It is my will that keeps you off of the seafloor, Athenais. Remember that.”
“Your ‘will,’ eh?” Athenais said. “Is that capitalized?” She smiled. “You know, for future communications.”
“There will be no future communications,” Juno bit out, her eyes like glittering black diamonds. “Not for you.” Apparently, the petty tyrant didn’t like being mocked. Pity. She looked so amusing when her lower lip pushed out and her eyes started gleaming from the internal pressure of her fury.
“So where’s Rabbit?” Athenais said, yawning in the face of Juno’s rage. “You already gave him swimming lessons or what?”
Juno’s eyes narrowed. “I got tired of his whining. Enough chat.” She tossed Athenais a portable handheld. “Get on the intercom. Tell them to turn themselves in.”
Athenais laughed. “They’re aliens. You think they’d listen to me?” She tossed the handheld back.
“I’m warning you, Athenais—” Juno’s hand fisted on the handset and she scowled. Like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Warn me all you want,” Athenais said, shrugging. “I’m not calling them in to their deaths.”
Juno’s sharp face went dark and flat. “Then you’d better hope they turn themselves in, or you’ll be exploring areas of this planet no one’s ever been to before.”
“You do that and I’ll introduce you to uncharted space,” Athenais said sweetly. “You have my word.”
Juno laughed. “When? You actually think anything lives ten miles beneath the surface? There’s nothing down there to pull your body off the anchor.” Her smile was laced with cyanide. “And I’m going to make sure to use good ropes, this time.” At that, she turned and led the Warriors from the room, taking the handheld with her.
…the seas shall dry and the Oracle shall come astride a wave of fire, spreading his prophecy throughout the stars. It will signal the dawning of a new age, one mankind has not seen for thousands of years.
The stadium erupted in a wild frenzy of cheering and zealous affirmations of faith. Strangers and Traders alike collapsed in the stands, convulsing in a fervor. On the stage below, the Emperor nodded to the blind Priestesses with the pitchers, who walked across the platform and unerringly filled the cups of the thousand naked adolescents kneeling before them.
Stuart turned to Ragnar. “What is that stuff?”
“A drug, I think,” Ragnar replied. “Are you listening to what he’s saying?”
“The prophecy?”
“Yes.”
“What about it?” Stuart asked.
“It’s odd they picked a man as their ultimate savior,” the shifter said, frowning. “Seems to me Juno would have set herself up for the task.”
Stuart scanned the gathered masses warily. “I don’t think Juno knows about this.”
“She knows,” Ragnar said, his face forming into a bitter line. “Kind of hard to hide fifty thousand people when they’re screaming loud enough to make the walls vibrate.”
“Then why isn’t she here?”
“Maybe she is and we just can’t see her.”
“You think Athenais—” The stadium fell silent suddenly and Stuart cut off the rest of his sentence as he turned to watch the proceedings on the stage below. The Priestesses had returned to the sidelines and now the thousand naked adolescents held the cups in trembling hands. It was obvious some of them were crying.
Now drink, the Emperor’s voice boomed out. And may the spirit of the ocean cleanse your souls.
As one, the adolescents drank. One boy fumbled and spilled his cup and a Warrior refilled it immediately and forced him to drink. As soon as it was down, he, like the others, slumped to the ground.
“Poison?” Ragnar asked.
“They’re still moving,” Stuart said.
“Those three are going into convulsions. Look at them.”
Apparently, the Warriors ringing the platform saw them too, because six of them waded through the mass of prone bodies to pluck the three from the floor. Two girls and a boy. These they brought to kneel at the Emperor’s feet.
The gods have chosen. I send yo
u down your paths with my blessings.
At that, two Warriors stepped away and led the two girls to an altar to the side of the platform. The rest went to restrain the boy, who seemed to be regaining his wits. He thrashed in their grasp, his terrified screams echoing across the entire hushed arena.
“You see that?” Stuart whispered.
“Shhh.”
The girls were also beginning to come to their senses. One tried to run, but the wall of Warriors surrounding the platform caught her and brought her back to the altar. Then, as everyone watched, they made her lie down on the raised slab of stone. She began to cry, pleading with the four Warriors holding her down.
The Emperor approached the altar, a red-hot wand of iron in his hand. Gently, he reached out and grasped her hair. The Empire welcomes you to be its eyes and ears in the face of the gods. At that, the Emperor plunged the glowing poker into the girl’s left eye. She screamed, thrashing against the four Warriors holding her on the altar.
The Emperor removed the glowing rod of iron and dispassionately thrust it into her other eye.
“I can’t watch this,” Stuart whispered.
“We can’t leave now,” Ragnar said. “Close your eyes.”
Stuart did, but her screams dragged his gaze back to the scene on the platform. The Emperor had exchanged pokers with one of the Priestesses and shoved the brighter one into her left ear.
Thankfully, the girl passed out.
The Emperor went through the same procedure with the other girl and Stuart hid his face behind the seat in front of him, unable to watch. This one stayed conscious throughout. Only when her cries finally subsided did he dare to look up.
The Warriors had carted the two girls off of the stage, leaving only the boy, who had renewed his struggles in desperation.
The Emperor exchanged the poker for a long, curved knife. He walked up to the boy, who now stood still, weeping, and looked into his eyes.
You are not the one. With that, he thrust the pointed end of the knife into the boy’s belly and jerked upward. The boy’s scream was cut off when he yanked the blade loose and sliced it across the boy’s throat.
