Kharmic Rebound
Page 59
“What is this?” the man asked, squinting to see it better.
“This is precious latinum ore from beneath the southern mountains.”
He poked it with a wrinkled finger. Its surface rippled as if it were liquid. “Um, are you trying to pay with this?”
“Yes, I dug it out of the planet’s core myself.”
He glanced at her muddy claws. “Um, I can’t accept this.”
“Why not?”
“Well, first of all, it won’t fit in the register. Second of all, if I’m doing the math right, this is worth about an hundred thousand times as much as your purchase. I can’t make change for that.”
Trahzi tilted her head. “Perhaps you could keep the change?”
The man looked like he was about to pass out.
The ground rumbled. Trahzi glanced out the window. To the east, white-hot particle beams were raining down on the city.
Trahzi’s translator came to life. “Trahzi, we’re under attack, can you...”
* * *
The assassin stood in the center of CIC for the planetary defense grid. All the men and women around her were slumped over in their chairs at their desks. Her dreadlocks were extended out, plugged into the necks of the unconscious staff.
A piece of her consciousness was in each of the defense satellites. She hovered over the planet like it was nothing more than a globe, seeing everything that happened beneath her. From her point godlike point of view, her target simply vanished when the Bertulf bent time, only to appear again some distance away. She locked on to the target next to the old theater and fired. The theater exploded in a massive fireball.
The target reappeared two parns to the east. She fired, shredding the wave station.
The target reappeared one parn to the south-east. She fired, destroying the hypermarket.
The target reappeared half a parn to the north-east. She fired, incinerating the observatory.
A faint smile crossed the assassin’s lips. “The Bertulf is tiring.”
She locked onto the target and fired again.
* * *
Trahzi surrounded herself with fire and flew up into the sky. The blue became darker and darker, until it faded away to black, and she was in the starlight of orbit.
She fired a blast of flame, destroying the nearest satellite to her. Giving the puppy a little kiss on the head, she spun around and shot another. A third satellite turned and fired at her, but the shot deflected off of her bubble of fire, and spun off into the night.
* * *
Ilrica collapsed to the ground in complete exhaustion, blood coming out of her nose and ears. The last shot landed close to them. Too close. She and Gerald were thrown by the blast wave, skidding along the dirt roads at the edge of the city.
Gerald fought to his feet, nearly paralyzed with pain. His back felt like it was burning again. Subconsciously he slapped his hand against it, and found his robes intact. He hadn’t been more than singed, but the heat had set his damaged nerves alight.
Ahead of them Gerald could see her ship, but it was still a good forty meters out.
Barely able to move, he got up underneath her arm. “Come on, Ilrica,” he said, “we’re almost there.”
The ground around Gerald became illuminated. He looked up and saw the clouds part as a lance of death struck down at him.
Instinctively, he threw himself on top of Ilrica.
There was a flash of fire and Trahzi appeared. With a swipe of her hand she knocked the beam away as if it were nothing more than a volley ball. She shot back a beam from her mouth right back towards the source.
* * *
In the CIC, the assassin looked on in irritation as the final defense satellite was knocked out. She sliced into an observation satellite and took down the ship’s identity markers, but could do little else as her target and his companions went inside and took off.
Snarling in anger, the assassin slammed her fist into the wall, shattering the marble.
Chapter Thirty-Three
While there exist many cultures and sub-cultures on Earth, they all can be understood by a simple equation. The males will do whatever it takes to acquire physical intimacy from the females. In cultures where the females require education, career, and a house, the men work to acquire those things. In cultures where the women require bravado, pride, and a propensity for violence, the men acquire those traits. And in cultures where the females require nothing, the men do that, too. The fact that many females give away sex for free then wonder why the men in their lives do not show more ambition has been submitted as evidence in Alliance court that humans lack sufficient intelligence to be considered sentient.
-A Tourists Guide to Earth, 2nd edition, page 3, Valium Press
Cha’Rolette forced her left hand to reach out and set itself down on the assist bar. With a mighty effort, she took a step forward. Pausing only a moment to catch her breath, she put most of her weight on her right hand and took another step. She was wobbly, and fatigued, but she persisted, taking one step, then another, then another as the treadmill beneath her measured her progress.
From the observation room adjacent, Doctor Ko’Linnan couldn’t have been happier.
Mister Ssykes, your daughter is a machine. She even comes in to train at night after the nurses have gone home. In all of my practice I have never seen anyone work even a tenth as hard as she does. I mean, it’s miraculous how far she has come in so short a time.
E’Duwag looked on dispassionately with his cold eyes.
“How is the left hand?” Jonarl asked, noticing the way she merely rested it upon the rail rather than grip it.
Ko’Linnan looked like he was about to pop with joy. She’s still having a lot of trouble with that side, but I mean, let’s not strain at a gnat on this one. I could write an entire dissertation on her; the story rights alone would be worth billions.
You will do no such thing, E’Duwag cautioned. You so much as mention her name to your colleagues, and the next thing to hit that screen will be your brains. You understand?
Yes, sir. Of course, I... was only excited for her progress. I would never...
“And she’s having trouble with her vision,” Jonarl observed.
Yes, Ko’Linnan added sadly. She’s trying to hide it, but she’s almost completely blind in her left eye.
Jonarl stepped in closer to his boss. “Sir, I know you don’t want to hear this, but we need to inform the branch families.”
E’Duwag bristled at this. We will give her a little more time.
Jonarl tried to be as diplomatic as he could. “Sir, the family cannot be without an heir, even for a day. They need to know.”
Tell me, bodyguard. Why was it that the assassin’s bullet hit her instead of you?
Jonarl took a step back, at a loss for words. “Sir, she gave us explicit orders that we were not to accompany her on her diplomatic trip. It was only because she recalled us to observe the Bertulf that we were even on the planet at the time.”
E’Duwag’s eyes narrowed. It was only because you failed that she is in there instead of you.
Jonarl dropped his eyes, cowed by his own guilt. “Sir, if you ask me to prove my loyalty to the family, I will...”
I shouldn’t have to ask. You should have volunteered yourself as Thuquan did. That man will serve the Ssykes family for the next hundred lifetimes. You will not.
E’Duwag turned back to watching her. We will give her a little more time.
* * *
Senator Immestria fought to keep his balance as the royal palace rocked on its foundations beneath him. Pink men and women rolled about, trying to keep their fear in check.
“Defense grid is down,” Chancellor Torri called out, traces of dust falling around him.
“What about the orbital platforms?”
“No waves from them. I think the last of them have been destroyed.”
“Tell the guards to be ready, we’ll be seeing some of their blasted wind-tunnels soon.”
> Zurra leaned against her father and took his hand. Her face was pained. “Daddy, it’s happening again, isn’t it?”
Her father squeezed her hand in his. “It’s going to be all right,” he said, trying to sound confident. “The eastern fleet will get here; we just have to hold out.”
“Senator, Bertulfian hunters are attacking the power relay nodes throughout the capital. We’re losing power.”
Senator Immestria gritted his pink teeth. “These are new moves for them. “Instead of attacking us openly, they lurk in the shadows.”
“Sir, we should evacuate you and the other leaders.”
Zurra looked up and held him tighter, fear in her eyes.
“No,” he said, stroking his daughter’s head. “I’m not going to run this time. I am the leader of the Core-Worlds Sub-Federation. If I don’t stand up to the Bertulf, who will?”
Senator Immestria leaned over and held his daughter in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ll never lose you again.”
“Thank you,” Zurra said, tears in her eyes.
Another blast shook the palace, and the lights flickered.
* * *
At the center of the drone fleet blockading Sloi, the Bertulfian command ship sat like a silver dagger in space.
Liufr Ivaylo snarled as he paced back and forth across the command deck. Scores of little rat-men ran the stations, worked the controls, and plugged into the neural relays that controlled the drone ships. He hated being surrounded by so much machinery.
“Aatuu, their defenses are broken,” Ullok said, his young fangs sharp and white. “Are we not to announce our right of possession, and give them the opportunity to withdraw honorably from the field?”
Liufr snarled and looked the young male over. He wondered how long it would be until he had to suffer a challenge from him. Liufr had no intention of stepping down when his time came. He had united hundreds of packs under the Ulric Clan, and under his rule they would reassert control over their rightful hunting grounds yet again. What good was it to forge an empire unless you could live to enjoy it?
“Position your hunting pack just outside the palace,” Liufr snarled. “When the missiles hit, begin your attack. Leave none alive.”
“So, we are nothing more than butchers now,” Ullok snapped as he stepped into the wind tunnel along with the other Bertulf, leaving Liufr alone with his ship full of rat-men.
Liufr snorted. If Ullok survived the battle, Liufr resigned himself to killing the young male in his sleep. This was no time for honor duels, nor rites of ascension. He had an empire to win.
“Ready the missiles!” he called out in standard.
“Sir, a ship just arrived in system,” Eridf said from his command station, his long rodent-like tail swishing about. “It is waving us.”
Liufr snarled. “Ignore it. On my signal, launch all...”
The rat man at the security station slumped over, and a garbled window appeared.
“This message is to all forces. Please cease hostilities immediately,” the voice said.
* * *
In the palace, all of the Zurinites looked on at the window that had appeared for them.
“What is this?” Senator Immestria asked. “Has the western fleet arrived?”
“Ah, no,” the voice said. “We are the diplomatic team sent by the Alliance to mediate this dispute.”
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”
* * *
Liufr threw back his head and gave a howling laugh. “We are at war; diplomacy has no place here.”
“Not really. You see, the Core-Worlds Sub-Federation and the Bertulf Military Protectorate are still parts of the Alliance, meaning that this is still technically an internal dispute. As mediators, we are authorized to negotiate the terms for a cease-fire and reparations.”
“Nonsense,” Liufr spat.
* * *
On board the corsair ship, Gerald leaned back from the microphone. “Well, I got their attention.”
Trahzi stepped forward and nuzzled Puppy Trahzi. “Shall I attack them?”
Ilrica put up her hand. “Wait, before we let the demon here shoot rainbows and the power of love at ‘em, let this city-girl use a little savior-faire.”
“I am not a demon,” Trahzi grumbled as Ilrica stepped forward.
Ilrica straightened her school uniform and stepped into the holo-tank. Both sides could now see her clearly.
“It’s the ilrica faolan,” Liufr snarled. “What does it want?”
“Calm down, I’m here to save you.”
He laughed deeply. “Save us? We are hunters, what can you do?”
“What can I do? How can you be so cruel, Father? After everything I’ve done for you, you still consider me so worthless?”
Liufr snapped his maw. “Do not call me father! Such distinctions are meaningless to hunters. Any children born to the pack belong to the pack, it does not matter which individuals sired...”
“Well, it matters to me!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “I did everything you asked of me. When you told me to stay away, I stayed away. When you told me to serve you, I served you. I turned myself into a freak, even implanted shadow-tech into my body in the desperate hope that you would...”
“That I would what? Tuck you in at night? Sing you a bedtime story? Feed you from a bottle? If you are so weak that you crave such things, then you were never worthy of us to begin with!”
“Worthy? I built you a nano-genic weapon!”
Liufr was thunderstruck. “How... how did you know about that?”
* * *
Down on the palace grounds, the Ullok and the other Bertulf looked at each other suspiciously, their keen ears picking up the signal coming from the throne room. “Nano-genic weapon?” they repeated in disbelief.
* * *
In the throne room, the Zurinites watched on. Zurra clung to her father tightly. “Just what are you up to, Faolan?”
Ilrica held up her hands. “I’m not a fool, Aatuu. It was perfectly obvious to me what you were having me do. You had me create a plague, a plague that would target all the races you programmed it to. And you programmed it to kill every sentient race except the Bertulf.”
“Wait, is this true?” Eridf asked, his rodent whiskers twitching. The other rat-men looked at each other angrily.
Liufr was sweating, but he hid his distress behind bravado. “So you know, but it is too late now, the missiles are ready to...”
“I am half Korran! And you didn’t program in an exception for them. That means that even after everything I did, you were willing to let me die along with everyone else.”
Liufr sniffed. “We figured you’d have about a fifty-fifty chance. If your blood was pure enough, you would survive.”
“That’s what it always comes down to, isn’t it? From the day I was torn from my mother’s womb, you threw me out into the snow. If I was strong enough, I would survive! Well, I am not that little infant you cast away any more. And I will show you that I am stronger than you know.”
She reached out with a finger and cut into the air, revealing a little pocket. She reached inside and pulled out a small glowing device with a single button at the center.
“What is that?”
“You hunters should have checked the samples I gave you,” she grinned as she palmed the device in her hand.
“A hunter would never sully his hands by...”
“Yes, I know, but I am not a hunter, and I will never be a hunter. I understand that now. Nothing I do will ever be good enough for you. And do you know what I say to that?”
Ilrica stomped her foot and hissed the worst curse in the entire Bertulfian language. “Kriss’ssast tsoo’orannst, to you, to all of you, to every last Bertulf!”
Trahzi’s eyes went wide. “Faolan, what are you doing?”
Zurra’s jaw fell down to the floor. “She’s going to get us all killed!”
Liufr was enraged. “Launch the missiles!” he howled.
Liufr swatted the rat-man aside and ran over to the command console.
“I SAID, FIRE!”
Liufr slammed the runes and a pair of missiles spat out from the command ship, streaking down towards the planet below.
In the palace, Zurinites began running in all directions in a panic. Zurra and her father knelt down and held each other tightly.
“I love you daddy,” she said quietly.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
* * *
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Ilrica warned, waving the device before him.
“Just what do you think you have in your hand there, half-breed?” Liufr howled.
“I am not a half-breed. Don’t ever call me that again. I am a spy. And, do you know what the first rule of being a spy is?”
“What?”
“Never play your last card. EVER. Always have another move to play. This is mine.”
“I tire of your theatrics, SPY. What is it?”
Ilrica grinned. “I mixed my own blood into the samples I gave you.”
Ullok and the other Bertulf gasped. “No.”
Ilrica smiled. “That’s right, your nano-genic plague will affect some Bertulf as well.”
Liufr’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “Some?”
She shrugged. “I’d say each of you will have about fifty-fifty odds. The same odds you gave me, incidentally.”
He stepped back, fear in his eyes.
Ilrica pressed harder. “That’s right, the weapon you just fired will kill your hunters, and make that world worthless to you. No pack will ever be able to set foot on it again. As the plague spreads from world to world, you will eventually be left with nowhere to hunt at all.”
Liufr was speechless.
“This device in my hand will remove my blood from the weapon’s programming. Make me a Bertulf, swear a blood oath to Faelan forever right here and now that my place at the bonfire circle will be secure for all time, and I’ll use it to save you.”