The room was like nothing Raina had ever seen before. The space was perfectly square with rows of padded benches situated in the middle so the room could be viewed from any angle. Each wall, and even the floor and ceiling displayed the slowly changing images. Sweeping seascapes gave way to majestic mountains, then Raina stood suspended in the vastness of space.
“Can you make it stop?” She staggered toward the benches and quickly sat down. “This is making me sick.”
“Pause display.” When the command had no effect, Ashley tried again. “Dacon verita.” The tranquil forest scene surrounding them remained steady and Raina sighed. “Bandar’s working on an English interface for the computer, but it only works about half the time.” Ashley moved to the bench beside Raina, caution still apparent in her movements. “I didn’t want to involve you in this, but Kotto didn’t leave me a choice.”
“How did you become involved with these people?” The ambiance was surprisingly immersive. She could hear the distant call of birds and the scurry of forest creatures. The temperature seemed to drop as the tang of pine and moist earth reached her nose. “What is this place?”
“Didn’t Kotto tell you?”
“I meant this room. He told me I’m on a spaceship.”
Ashley tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, still looking uncomfortable. “They call it the contemplation cube. It’s sort of like a chapel.”
She was dying to know what aliens contemplated, but other things were more important right now. “Back to my other question. How did you get mixed up with aliens? Are they coercing you in some way?”
“They were hoping to track down my father and found me instead.” Ashley’s smile was almost sad. “You can imagine their disappointment.”
Ashley’s father had been a geneticist and much of his work was highly controversial. They would explore the details of that subject later. Raina wanted to understand the basic situation before she focused on details. “Bandar didn’t seem disappointed at the bistro. How far has that gone?” Even in the hazy light Ashley’s blush was obvious. “You’re sleeping with him.” They frequently harassed each other about their isolation, but Bandar wasn’t even human! “How long have you been together?”
“A few weeks, ever since my apartment needed to be ‘fumigated’.” She shifted on the bench, angling her body so she could look at Raina without craning her neck. “What I told you in the bistro isn’t far from the truth. The battle born are rebels fighting for a better life and they—”
“Fighting whom and is their war likely to follow them to Earth?”
Ashley sighed, averting her gaze without turning her head. “It’s a long, complicated story. Maybe we should wait until Bandar has time to explain everything to you.”
“I don’t know Bandar. I know you. I trust you.” At least she used to trust Ashley. Right now Raina’s faith in her friend was strained to the point of breaking. “Boil it down to specific facts and tell me what I need to know.”
Chapter Two
Keirestine Palace, Rodymia
Unable to completely suppress his anger, Akim Farmon clenched his fists as he sank to his knees. No one ignored a royal summons, but demanding a physical appearance from someone embroiled in a crisis only highlighted the uselessness of Crown Stirate Quinton Keire.
Quinton was thin to the point of frailty and his blue-ringed eyes looked too big for his long narrow face. The garish colors he adored were echoed in the uniforms of his personal guards. Four of the massive warriors stood to either side of the throne. Quinton never went anywhere without them. If court gossip could be believed, they surrounded his bed each night and only turned their backs as he enjoyed his many concubines.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t execute you on the spot and move on to my second choice.” Quinton sounded annoyed yet blasé, as if he’d made a comment about the weather rather than threatening Akim’s life.
“Because anyone you appoint now would be your second choice.” Court customs allowed Akim to stand at this point, but he remained on his knees. His exasperation doubtlessly showed, so he glared holes in the marble floor rather than risking an escalation in Quinton’s anger. “I have Daniel Kane’s journals as well as—”
“But the rebels have them too!” Akim heard the guards shift position and instinctively raised his head. Quinton rushed down the stairs of the dais and stood in front of Akim. “Stand up. I don’t like talking to the top of your head.”
Akim reinforced his outward calm with a deep breath then pushed to his feet. It was obvious Quinton wasn’t interested in facts, so he silently waited for the spineless fool to finish his tirade. The throne room had been meticulously designed to intimidate visitors by Quinton’s great-grandfather. Massive pillars supported the highly arched ceiling, which depicted battle scenes from various eras, each a Rodyte victory, of course. The throne itself was an intricately carved work of art, displayed on a raised platform. Unfortunately, the bold architecture overshadowed the current ruler, making him appear even thinner and less formidable.
“All you’ve managed to do is increase the pressure on my research team. They’re now in a race with the rebels to see who can complete a transformation protocol first. Luckily, I have the best and brightest minds in the star system under my command. The rebels don’t stand a chance.” Quinton circled Akim as if assessing him for sale. “Is the younger Nox brother messed up in this little rebellion or is it just Bandar?”
The seeds of dissention spread throughout the ranks of the battle born, but Quinton didn’t want to hear it. He’d convinced himself that this “little rebellion” was a handful of mid-ranking soldiers with little authority and fewer resources. Akim suspected that General Garin Nox, the oldest of the three Nox brothers and head of one of Rodymia’s most powerful families was the true leader of the rebellion, but Quinton didn’t want to hear that either.
“I don’t know, sire. I’ve only encountered Bandar.” Akim stared straight ahead and kept his expression carefully blanked. The sooner he finished this ridiculous conversation, the sooner he could return to his mission where he belonged.
Unlike his ancestors, who ruled through fear and brutality, Quinton’s primary strategies were denial and ignorance. He surrounded himself with people who told him only what he wanted to hear. Many had thought—even hoped—that his niece, Sevrin, would overthrow him, but she’d been murdered before she made her move for the throne. Now the various factions on Rodymia were in a sort of holding pattern. Some thought Garin’s final goal was to overthrow Quinton and rule the planet himself, while others expected Garin to back one of the five people with a blood tie to the throne. Akim didn’t care about Garin’s agenda. The general’s final goal was irrelevant because Akim was going to kill him long before Garin’s plans came to fruition.
Akim had known Garin his entire life. He’d watched Garin rise through the ranks of the military, catapulted by a privileged background and unlimited wealth. Garin personified everything Akim hated about Rodymia. While Akim fought and bled for each accolade, succeeding despite his meager beginnings, people like Garin were guaranteed success with or without personal accomplishments.
Akim’s bitterness helped him understand the resentment fueling the battle born rebellion. He even agreed that the current system needed to be dismantled. However, the battle born were inferior in every way to full-blooded Rodytes and Akim wanted it to stay that way. If the battle born ever activated their dormant magic—which was the reason for their venture to Earth—it would give them an advantage with which people like him couldn’t hope to compete.
“Where is Chandar?”
The question snapped Akim’s attention back to Quinton. Akim had anticipated this possibility and taken measures to protect his most prized possession. “She’s in seclusion on Earth. Confinement is hard on a Harbinger. She needs tranquility and fresh air for her gift to function properly. I felt it only prudent to provide her with an environment that will maximize her abilities.” Harbingers were r
are and extremely powerful. Female harbingers were even more so. Quinton had rewarded Akim with Chandar two years before and Akim had no intention of giving her back.
“Convenient.” Quinton crossed his arms over his narrow chest and glared at Akim. “If you disappoint me again, you’ll lose everything, and that includes the lovely Chandar. Do you understand?”
“Of course, sire. I will not fail you again.”
“Good, then get back to Earth and finish the job.”
Akim spun on the ball of his foot and strode from the cavernous throne room, boot heels snapping against the marble floor. This delay had been completely pointless. Quinton could have berated him just as easily with a holoconference. A personal appearance was only necessary if he’d meant to demote him—or repossess Chandar. His fists clenched again. It was a damn good thing he’d left her on Earth. No one was taking his harbinger from him, not even the Crown Stirate of Rodymia!
He paused at the security checkpoint to retrieve his weapons then exited through the main entrance of the palace. The Relentless was too large for the palace airfield and the security measures utilized at the nearest spaceport were intolerable, so Akim left his ship in orbit and shuttled down for the meeting. Generally he bio-streamed anywhere he needed to go, but the palace shields prevented molecular transportation.
People came from all over the star system to tour the palace. With iridescent domes and gilded spires, the stately building easily dominated the rolling hills surrounding it. Even so, Akim was unimpressed with the splendor amassed by the idle rich. Creature comforts made people soft. All he had to do was look at Quinton Keire to know the theory was correct. Besides, the sprawling size of the royal residence only made Akim have to walk that much farther to reach his shuttle.
He jogged down the wide stone stairs leading to the main entrance. Like mindless cattle, visitors lined up in the roped-off area, waiting for the next tour to begin. Akim dismissed them with a disdainful glower and hurried on his way. He would never understand the mass fixation on royalty. If any of these people actually interacted with Quinton, they would quickly reassess their fascination. The only impressive thing Quinton had ever done was being born into the royal family. The Keire dynasty had been established by men who would have smothered Quinton in his sleep.
Akim followed the wide, tree-lined walkway to the lot reserved for invited guests. His shuttle was small and unobtrusive, intentionally designed not to draw attention. He clenched his left hand to activate his subdermal control band then lowered the shields and opened the hatch. Distracted by frustration and discontent, he climbed into the shuttle.
“It took you long enough.”
A startled gasp escaped Akim. He drew his sidearm and spun to the left, his movements fast and fluid. His uninvited guest only smiled, looking indolent as she lounged in one of four passenger chairs. Akim lowered his weapon, though he remained alert and watchful. Pyre Sterling was more or less returning his call. He’d left a message letting her know he was temporarily back in Rodyte space. Still, he’d expected her to com him not show up in person.
“It makes Quinton feel powerful when he keeps his guests waiting,” he muttered as he returned the pulse pistol to the bracket on his thigh. “Despite my reaction, I’m glad you came.”
She crossed her legs, drawing his attention to the daring expanse of toned flesh revealed by the slit in her narrow skirt. Her dark blue dress covered her from throat to ankle, but the clingy material outlined every swell and hollow of her curvaceous figure. Though her skin was pale and smooth, it lacked the pearlescent sheen of an organic harbinger, those born with their abilities. Whatever power she possessed was the result of genetic manipulation and integrated technology. The last six inches of her silver-blonde hair had been treated with a color-shifting dye that transformed from yellow to orange and finally red. The decorative effect echoed her name, which was also an affectation.
Pyre Sterling was a guise, a role various females had played down through the years. According to Quinton, Pyre Sterling was Chandar’s mother, but Akim had no way of knowing if this woman was the same Pyre Sterling who had given birth to his pet harbinger. Instinct told him she was not. This woman certainly showed no interest in a person supposedly her offspring.
“I don’t have all day, Akim. Why did you ask to speak with me?”
He closed the hatch and activated an audio buffer before he explained. “I recently unmasked a technomage hidden among my crew. At first I thought Quinton sent him, but now it seems unlikely. Did Javin send one of his creations to spy on me?”
She shrugged, a mocking smile lifting one corner of her mouth. “Did you ask Javin?”
Javin Aidentar was the current head of the Integration Guild, which meant he was the true power on Rodymia. Like the sorcerers of ancient times, technomages had powers at their disposal that made them extremely dangerous. No one cared that those powers came from nanotechnology integrated into their biological systems rather than actual magic. They could read minds and manipulate dreams, teleport at will. Some could even command the elements. Worse, they loved to conceal their abilities, to blend with the masses and manipulate situations from the shadows. And Javin was the worst of all. Few had ever seen him in person. Some even whispered that he didn’t exist. And still he controlled events so skillfully most were unaware of his influence.
“Javin never responds to my messages.” Akim swiveled the pilot’s chair around and sat facing his mysterious guest. “Did he mention Letos to you? That’s the name of the technomage.”
She made a dismissive gesture with one elegant hand. “Javin might share my bed, but we don’t discuss guild business, his or mine.”
Pyre led the Harbinger Guild, a small group of empowered people that branched off from the Integration Guild when their abilities became distinct and separate from the other technomages. Each guild claimed to operate autonomously, but compartmentalization was hard to believe when the leaders of the two primary guilds didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were lovers.
Akim had expected the denial, so he tried a slightly different tactic. “Your network of spies is unsurpassed. Where is Letos now and what were his objectives while masquerading as part of my crew?” If he didn’t challenge the source of her information, perhaps she’d be more forthcoming.
“Letos joined your crew and you didn’t suspect he was a technomage?” The musical quality to her laugh made it even more abrasive. “Everyone knows he’s a technomage.”
Akim narrowed his gaze on her beautiful face, unable to hide his annoyance. “I put less stock in rumors than most.” And he’d been sequestered inside the palace for the past twenty-nine years, focused entirely on extracting information from enemies of the crown. His mission to Earth was his reward for three decades of loyalty and he would not squander the opportunity to prove himself more than a brutal interrogator. “Please answer the question.”
“I have no idea where Letos is, but his objective is self-evident. Rumors about your ‘secret’ mission to Earth have been circulating ever since you left the palace six weeks ago. Everyone wants to know if you’ve succeeded in unlocking the latent magic of the battle born.”
Right now the guilds controlled everyone with paranormal abilities. If the rebels succeeded in empowering the battle born, it would be disastrous for the status quo. “It’s an exasperating race, but neither side has reached the finish line.”
“Is Garin Nox backing the rebels or can I disregard that rumor?” Her silver-ringed blue eyes studied him intently, judging each word that passed his lips.
“Bandar is among the rebels. I’ve seen him myself. Garin’s role is less clear. He could be assisting his brother as much as possible without compromising his standing among the elite, or he could be the actual leader. There’s simply no way to be sure without more evidence.”
“Garin is full-blooded Rodyte and heads one of the oldest families on this planet. He gains nothing by participating in this foolishness.”
Akim nod
ded, having felt the same when his mission began. “For the most part, I agree with you. However, the rebels are suspiciously well informed and seem to have access to resources only someone at Garin’s level could authorize. Don’t underestimate the power of family. The Nox brothers have always been thick as thieves.”
She raised one shoulder in another half-hearted shrug, clearly unimpressed by the statement. “There are different types of families, and ties stronger than blood. If Garin is endangering himself for the battle born, he’s a fool.”
A very powerful and well-connected fool. “Even so, this rebellion is gaining traction fast. Javin would be wise to pay closer attention.”
She rolled her eyes as she pushed to her feet. “Don’t kid yourself. Javin pays attention to everything. His network of spies is even more impressive than mine.” She smoothed down her skirt then her gaze snapped back to his. “Keep your brother away from Chandar. I’ve had several disturbing dreams about him.”
This was the first time Pyre had shown any interest in Chandar and her timing couldn’t have been worse. “My brother is dead and Chandar is mine to do with as I will.” Provoking her was unwise, but pain made him lash out without thinking. Erkott might have been a ruthless bastard, but he’d been the only blood relation Akim had left. Now Akim was alone with his bitterness and hate, forces stronger than he ever imagined.
He didn’t see Pyre move, yet suddenly she was in front of him, her hand clasping his throat. Her long fingernails dug into his flesh and her furious gaze burned into his. He grabbed her wrist, but she wasn’t really choking him, just demonstrating her displeasure. “Chandar is flesh of my flesh. I only allowed this time of testing because her strength needed to be refined. Never doubt you will be held accountable for each time you touched her and each indignity you inflicted. Have I made myself clear?”
Forsaken Page 3
