Space Trek (Three Novels, Three Worlds, Three Journeys Book 1)

by Jo Zebedee

  “Let me,” said Kare.

  The doctor took a deep breath, his chest rising. He looked away and then back, nodding. “Do it.”

  Kare sank into his mind, feeling his way through, touching sensations of guilt and fear. He felt the doctor’s hatred of the invasion, but the memory of what had been done to him– what this man had watched being done– came back to him, and he sank further in, drilling into his mind, not caring if it hurt.

  “Stop,” whispered the doctor, his voice low and harsh, but still Kare drilled, searching for any sign that this was a trick, that he was going to be returned. There was nothing. He pulled out, slowly, still searching, and the sound of the other man’s breathing started to dominate the cell.

  Kare met the doctor’s eyes, knowing his shame, feeling his need for absolution. He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  The doctor inclined his head. “Don’t. You must have seen enough to know I shouldn’t be thanked.”

  “I saw enough.” Kare paused, glancing at the barred gate. How long did they have? He coughed a little and said, “My wife must think I’m a miracle worker. Did you mention my condition– the guards?”

  “She seemed confident if you got your psyche back, you’d come up with something.”

  She would. “How many of my men are here?”

  “I don’t know,” admitted the doctor. “Silom and Lichio are; you saw them when you got here.”

  “That was Silom and Lichio?” He stopped, thinking back. Of course it was, but they’d been so thin. “Do you know the symbol for the Banned?”

  The doctor shook his head, and Kare took his index fingers and thumbs. He managed to stretch them enough to make two entwined circles. He pulled them so they locked, like a chain.

  “Let them know you’re on side. And then go check on Beck: keep him sealed down. I need to decide how to do things.”

  Sam left, and Kare closed his eyes, glad to be alone. He needed the toilet, so much so his stomach was aching. He tried to let go, but nothing happened. How painful would it be if his bladder burst? It would kill him, he guessed. He watched the door, ready for Beck to walk in, knowing he’d do nothing if he did– the very thought of turning on his master chilled him.

  He shifted and pain shot from his bladder, making him gasp. He closed his eyes and willed himself to let go, but still nothing happened. He looked at the ceiling, breathed deeply and tried not to think. A first trickle came, and he bit down against the sharp agony and tasted blood. He clenched his fists until it flooded out and pooled under him. He panted, waiting for it to be over. Sharp tears flooded into his eyes: at least he was enough of a man to do that. But could he do any more?

  He took the part of his mind that healed things, thinking at least he could try. It had to be better than waiting for Beck to come and finish him.

  ***

  Lichio stood at the bars of his cell. His lash wounds were open and weeping, and the pain had wakened him. He’d have to try to sleep again soon, he knew. It took strength to get through a day in the quarry. He looked down the corridor to the quiet cell at the end, pretty sure that was where Kare had been taken. What did they do to him? Even thinking about it made Lichio sick.

  The gate to Kare’s cell opened and a figure came out. As he approached, Lichio recognised him as the doctor from Omendegon, one of a long list of people he would gladly murder. Lichio glared at the doctor, willing him to look and know Lichio le Payne hated him. The doctor nodded, as if to himself, linked his fingers together and walked on. Lichio cocked his head; he’d thought, the last time they’d met, that the doctor had been scared, and had hoped he might be frightened enough to do something. Hoped, but never believed.

  “Silom,” Lichio said.

  Silom got up from the back of the cell, the speed of his response telling Lichio he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep.

  “The doc from Omendegon?” Lichio made the same symbol, carefully.

  “You’re joking.”

  “Would I?”

  “Interesting,” said Silom. “Earlier, I overheard a couple of the guards.”

  “Go on.” Lichio kept his face casual and voice very, very low.

  “Apparently Beck’s got the worst case of the shits you’ve ever seen– completely incapacitated, keeps getting worse. They’re talking about shipping him back to Abendau in case it’s infectious.”

  “Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving bloke.”

  Silom smiled grimly and glanced at Kare’s cell. “Do you think?”

  “No hope. You don’t get over whatever happened there.”

  “I don’t know, he always surprised us.”

  Lichio decided to humour the big man. “Absolutely; you never know.”

  They walked back to their blankets. The other slaves made way for them to pass, the odd glare from Silom reminding them who was in charge in this particular cell. It was, Lichio thought, very useful to be Silom’s friend. He lay down and tried to sleep, but it wouldn't come, not with him jumping at every sound, prepared to take whatever chance presented itself.

  ***

  “Is everything ready?” asked Sonly. She pulled at the lapel of her flight jacket, and understood why Kare had always complained about the Banned uniforms. She wished he was here, moaning about it now.

  “They’re ready,” said Michael. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “I’m up to it. Kare promised he’d try to make it back, but I think that goes both ways.”

  “If he doesn’t manage to get out?”

  His words cut through Sonly. The doctor was adamant that Kare was so badly hurt, his mind lost, that even with his psyche he could do nothing. And, Sonly admitted to herself, there was no way he could get them as far as the city. The best she could hope was that he was strong enough to fight back and get himself killed– quickly and free. You never know, said one stubborn part of her. The rest of her, the pragmatic Sonly, stamped down on her hope.

  “Then I’ll turn tail and come back before I meet the Empress. It won’t do the Banned any good if I end up taking Kare’s place in Omendegon,” she said, trying to sound brave. Michael nodded but didn't voice the fact this was the last chance for the Banned– after, they were out of options.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Kare lay in his cell, thinking, planning. He had little option– the manacles on his wrists gave him barely any room to move. He’d spent the night going over the plans he and Rjala had made for attacking Abendau. If he got to the port, they could reach the city and the spy network.

  His breath hitched at the thought of returning to Abendau. His mother’s presence ran through the city, binding it to her. A small moan of fear escaped. He remembered how she’d been in his mind, searching every corner, hurting him to his very core. Images of being Beck’s dog– of the total dominance he’d been under– haunted him.

  Stop. He had to focus: he was the one who’d studied Abendau; no one else could get them to safety. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts whirling round and round. When the other slaves moved out to their work, he was still looking at the ceiling and thinking.

  It was after the rest of slaves had come back that he heard footsteps stop outside his cell. He clenched and unclenched his hands, noticing his missing finger as he did; they’d done what he’d feared and taken him a piece at a time. The sound of the gate left him drenched in clammy sweat. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself; it worked as well as it ever had.

  Footsteps, loud on the hard cell floor. They stopped in front of him, and he opened his eyes. The doctor’s feet, he recognised those, had stared at them often enough. Beside him, a second pair of booted feet. A pinprick of injection, like the insect sting he’d thought the first one was. Oh, gods, don’t take me back.

  “You coming, Doc?” asked the guard. His voice had a slight dialect Kare wasn’t familiar with. His breathing steadied: it wasn’t Beck.

  “I’m going to check him over,
” Sam said. “Plus, I need to give him some water.”

  “Food?” asked the guard. Kare’s mouth moistened and his stomach gripped in pain: now that he’d healed everywhere else, the hunger was vivid and agonising.

  Sam laughed. “He’s not hungry enough yet.”

  Kare bit his lip so the sob of need wouldn’t escape. The guard walked out and locked the cell. “I’m at the end of the corridor. Shout when you’re done with this dog.”

  His footsteps faded, and Kare lifted his head. The room swam around him.

  “You look better,” said the doctor. He crouched down and reached out, pushing Kare’s hair back. His eyes looked like they had yesterday: direct and honest.

  “I’ve healed what I can.” Kare’s voice was a whisper. He unlocked his shackles and rubbed his wrists together. He sat up, carefully, and glanced at the doctor, thinking of how he must look: starving; his skin crawling with lice, covered in bites; stinking of old piss. He ducked his head– the doctor knew what he’d done to please Beck and survive. He didn’t know what to say, but when he looked down and saw the stain across the front of his ragged trousers, it seemed as good a place as any to start. “I stink. I’m sorry.”

  The doctor shrugged. “You should be with Beck just now; he’s worse.” He reached into his bag and handed Kare an energy bar. “I lied; you need to eat. That’ll help for now.”

  Kare tried to pull the packet open, but his hands were shaking too much. The doctor took it from him and ripped it, handing it back. Kare took the proffered bar, his stomach contracting, making him gasp. He ripped a piece off: it was tasteless and bland, designed to give energy, not pleasure, but he chewed it as best he could, working around the gaps where he'd once had teeth. Tears pricked him as he did, but he blinked them away. He had to keep a grip on things. The doctor handed him a small bottle, and he drank it, a shot of energy flooding through him.

  Kare looked at him. “You know what we’re going to do tonight?”

  The doctor looked shaky. “You’ll kill the guards.”

  “Every one,” confirmed Kare. “One by one, and I won’t regret any of them.”

  “That makes you as bad as them.” The doctor glanced away, his eyes focused on the gate. “I didn’t do this for more to die.”

  “I’m a soldier. So are my men. Even our angelic Lichio can be a bad bastard. The worst, actually. How did you think I’d get us out of here? Ask?” Something clicked back into place in his mind. He was a soldier– or had been one– and he had to reach into the past and let that Kare, the Kare who’d been about to attack Abendau, who been prepared to face his mother, come to the fore.

  The doctor swallowed. “No, I don’t suppose I expected you to ask. Is there any other way?”

  Kare shook his head. “I don’t take pleasure from killing, doctor. I never have. If there was any other way for me to get us out of here– alive– I’d take it.” He reached out his hand, but the doctor didn’t take it. “I promise it will be quick, that none of them will suffer needlessly. That’s all I can do.”

  The doctor nodded, but he still looked uncomfortable. “What do you need me to do?” He looked faintly embarrassed. "I can't kill someone."

  “You don't have to. Stay close, but out of the way. Do Silom and Lichio know?”

  “Lichio saw me do the sign.”

  “Well, hopefully they haven’t removed his brains.” Kare stood, and waited until the room had stopped spinning. He moved to the gate of the cell. “I’m going to get them and then we’ll capture the quarry.”

  “Can you do it with only three?”

  “I could probably do it on my own, but why take the chance? I want Silom because he’s an excellent soldier, and I work well with Lichio.”

  “And then we get out of here?”

  “Hell, no,” Kare said, his decision made. If he ran, he’d always be running, knowing what she could do. He had to finish this, while she was away, and give himself a chance of peace. He straightened, and the collar rubbed his neck. Impatiently, he clicked it off, his skin pulling as he did. “Then, I do what my father wanted me to do– what he gave his life for me to do– I move on Abendau, and bring my mother’s empire down.”

  “I thought we were getting out.”

  Kare opened the gate. “Next time you release the genie, doctor, you might want to check what it’ll do, first. We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tonight, my job is to secure the quarry; then we’ll decide what happens next.”

  He moved out of the cell, his eyes alert and powers cast out. The only guards he could sense were at the end of the corridor, at either side of the entranceway; they evidently didn’t consider the slaves, once locked down, a big threat. Gently, Kare took their minds and set their focus on the corridor of cells opposite this one. He moved to the cell the doctor had indicated.

  As he got there, two prisoners got up and moved forward. He snicked the gate and let it open enough for them to slip out, then pointed to his own cell. He could feel, now, some of the other slaves rousing, and he cast out. Their minds settled and moved down to sleep. It’s still working.

  He followed Silom and Lichio back to his cell where they stared at him as if he was a ghost. Both looked exhausted, their faces covered with a fine dust. Older, too.

  “I’m real,” Kare said. “Battered, but real.” Let them not know how he really was, how close he was to giving up, to lying on his bed and letting Beck have his way with him.

  “You’re more than battered.” Silom looked Kare up and down, his concern clear, and to see Silom, even this changed Silom, and know he was there– Kare felt safer already.

  He hesitated, not sure what to say; how to start to tell them what had happened, to face it himself. He swallowed and tried to smile. Someday he’d go there. But not tonight. “I’m alive; that’ll do for now. What about you two?”

  Another hesitation and then Lichio answered. “Alive is as accurate as anything. What are you planning? I assume this isn’t a quick catch up?”

  “We need to take the quarry,” Kare said.

  “Are you in any shape to do that?” challenged Lichio.

  Kare lifted his chin. Tonight wasn’t the time for an analysis of what had happened– what they’d witnessed in the cells. Not ever, if he was honest.

  “Sir,” he said. His voice sounded more commanding, and he remembered he used to do this all time: give orders, lead.

  “What?” Lichio said.

  “You forgot the sir. Unless anyone demoted me in my absence, that is. Captain.” He clenched his fists. “If we don’t take the quarry, we don’t get to Abendau. It’s that simple.” He held Lichio’s eyes, daring him to oppose him.

  “How do you plan to do that, sir?” Lichio asked, and coughed slightly.

  “Most of the guards are asleep. Once we secure this section and clear the dorms, we can use the prison transports to get to Abendau city.”

  “Then home?” asked Lichio, and Kare knew his number two had read him as well as he’d always been able to.

  “We’ll see.” He ignored Lichio’s pained expression and soft curse.

  “Any idea how many guards, sir?” Silom asked. He had barely taken his eyes off Kare, and now he moved closer to him. Kare swayed, not for the first time, and Silom’s arm shot out, taking his elbow.

  “I’m okay,” said Kare, taking his arm away. “Two outside the entrance to the cell blocks. Two more at the other side.”

  He glanced at the doctor, and raised an eyebrow in question.

  “There’s about fifty in total, most of them in the dorms. There’s a guard room between here and the dorms, and they have a comms link from there to the palace.”

  “Thank you,” Kare said. “We’ll take out the first ones, then see what faces us in the guard room.”

  “How will you know?” asked Sam.

  Silom and Lichio exchanged a glance and a smirk. Kare glared at them both.

  “I haven’t time to explain how I do
things, so take it on trust– if I say I can, I can,” Kare said.

  “The two at the other side are a problem, sir,” Lichio said. “No way to sneak up on them.”

  Kare thought for a moment, making sure he’d placed the guards correctly.

  “You take the one on the left of the doorway,” he told Silom. “Lichio, the one on the right. I’ll deal with the other two. Once they’re out of the way, we can secure the main cell block.”

  They moved quietly down the corridor, Kare in the lead, scanning as he went. Keep busy; don’t think. One step at a time. As he reached the end, Lichio and Silom moved forward while he sent his psyche out to the guards opposite. It took a moment to remember how he needed it to work, and then he twisted the bones in their neck until they snapped. It took all his strength to focus on them both, and his knees started to buckle. He leaned against the wall, concentrating until he was sure they were dead. He let them fall and heard a guttural noise from the guard on the right. Stepping forward, he broke the neck of the man Lichio had tried to throttle. Silom’s, he noted, had been a clean kill.

  “Neater next time,” Kare told Lichio, who nodded. He looked exhausted, his blond hair lank against his face. Silom lifted a weapon and moved to watch for any relief guards. Kare nodded to him, glad of his solid reliability.

  “How many Banned men are here?” asked Kare.

  “Twenty three, plus us,” Lichio said. He pulled himself a little straighter.

  “I hoped there’d be more,” Kare admitted. “Where are all the others?”

  “There are some in the less secure slave pits, but most of them….” Lichio paused. “The quarry’s harsh, sir.” He cleared his throat. “Deadly. Few survived the first weeks. Those that did aren’t in good shape.”

  Everywhere’s harsh. “Then we can get a little vengeance for them, too, Captain.” And my family; Rjala; my soldiers on the base. “Take one of the guards’ security passes and get the others. Only the Banned soldiers.”