Girl of Blood: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel (The Expulsion Project Book 3)

by Norma Hinkens

  An involuntary gasp escapes my lips, but it comes out as nothing more than a sad puff of air. Jumbled thoughts swirl around my head as I try to will my body into action. Do something! I grit my teeth in frustration. Despite several valiant attempts to move my limbs, I’m still immobilized. But I need to defend Velkan. It was me who urged him to undergo the illegal procedure in the first place. It was me who secured the dark market sculptor. I wanted Velkan to be free to love me, but now I realize it was selfish on my part to ask him to take such a huge risk. I’m willing to confess it all to the court if I could only get my body to cooperate.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Velkan smiles down at me. “It was worth it to see Mhakerta with you as a free man,” he whispers.

  I close my eyes to trap my stinging tears. I won’t cry in front of the Supreme Chancery of Aristozonex, no matter what sentence they impose on Velkan. I’m still a chieftain’s daughter, and I will remain one until I breathe my last, here, or on Skytus.

  Dread settles in my bones when I open my eyes again only to see Minder Brivardo approaching the witness stand. He settles into position and looks around at the rapt faces with a smug expression on his overly tightened face, before launching into his testimony about Velkan hiring a dark market dermal sculptor and masquerading on Aristozonex as a free man.

  I’m not surprised to learn that it was Brivardo who sold us out. After all, he specializes in selling information for profit. But, it’s a devastating blow, nonetheless. My chest tightens as I inwardly concede that this is the end of the line for Velkan. No one on Aristozonex will doubt the word of a reputable Minder.

  My heart races erratically as I wait for Justice Kuberev to resume the podium and pronounce Velkan’s sentence of execution. Minutes go by, and the justices remain huddled together in a heated discussion before they finally pull apart.

  “We have been informed that there is a witness for the defense in the case of the indentured serf,” Justice Kuberev announces in a tone that makes no pretense at hiding her displeasure. “The Chancery will deign to hear the witness as the rule of law demands in the case of a death sentence verdict.”

  My eyes widen. Could it be Ghil? What is he thinking? Panic catapults through my useless limbs. It won’t do the least bit of good for him to speak on Velkan’s behalf. If Minder Brivardo recognizes him and exposes him as an escaped fugitive, he’ll only end up sealing his own fate too.

  The courtroom spectators rustle in their seats, looking around for the mysterious witness.

  When a figure rises at the back of the room, I hold my breath and wait.

  But it isn’t Ghil who steps into the aisle and begins making his way to the witness stand.

  4

  I can do nothing but stare in shock as Stefanov strides purposefully to the front of the courtroom. He takes the stand with an air of quiet authority and faces the spellbound crowd, his goatee meticulously groomed, his face a mask of self-control beneath his theatrically-arched brows. Minder Brivardo flicks a hand nervously over his head, and shoots a glance at the justices. A muscle twitches in his sculpted jaw. His expression tells me he doesn’t know what to expect, but he’s uneasy about this development, and with good reason. Stefanov has intimate knowledge about the shady business deals that go down under Brivardo’s watch at the Minder Depot. Stefanov’s participated in more than a few of them. But why would he risk implicating himself?

  “Name and occupation?” Justice Kuberev snaps.

  “My name is Stefanov Obreski. I own the Pawn Emporium near to Minder Brivardo’s Depot.”

  “The Pawn Emporium!” Justice Kuberev echoes mockingly as she pans the room, garnering a few titters. “Hardly a reputable source of information.” She frowns at Stefanov. “I must warn you that unless you are in possession of intelligence that can discredit the witness, Minder Brivardo’s testimony will be more than enough to convict the serf.”

  Stefanov’s dark brows peak as he fastens a look of utter loathing on Minder Brivardo. And that’s when it occurs to me. It’s a look that can mean only one thing.

  “He knows about Brivardo and his daughter,” I whisper to Velkan.

  I take a few quick breaths, my brain trying to piece it all together. Ghil must have shown Stefanov the vid feed we took of Leeta and Brivardo embracing amorously in the alley.

  Stefanov fixes his gaze on Justice Kuberev. “I challenge the veracity of the witness’s statement. Minder Brivardo is a corrupt official, siphoning information from the Syndicate and selling it to the highest bidder for personal gain. His testimony before this court cannot be trusted.”

  A collective gasp ricochets around the room. Justice Kuberev looks momentarily taken aback, but before she can order Stefanov to prove his accusation, he tosses a DigiPad onto the counter in front of him. “Here’s all the evidence of Minder Brivardo’s treachery that the Chancery will need to prosecute him. Seven years’ worth.”

  Minder Brivardo claps a hand across his heart, a look of mock outrage on his ashen face. “I demand the Chancery arrest that man for slandering a Syndicate Minder.”

  For a brief moment, a stunned silence falls over the courtroom and then the spectators break into heated chatter. A Chancery official picks up the DigiPad and takes it to Justice Kuberev. She scrutinizes it, her face blanching as she scrolls through page after page before setting it down and getting to her feet. “This only proves Brivardo’s corruption,” she says, a tremor of repressed rage in her voice. “How does it absolve the alleged serf?”

  Stefanov’s hands ball into fists at his sides. “Velkan warned me that Minder Brivardo was taking advantage of my daughter to spy on my business ventures at the Pawn Emporium. He showed me a vid feed to prove it. Brivardo vowed to bring Velkan down because of it. That’s why he’s using this opportunity to falsely claim Velkan was a serf.”

  The scandalized spectators exchange shocked looks with one another before glancing uncertainly from Minder Brivardo to Stefanov.

  Even the justices begin arguing among themselves until Justice Kuberev holds up a commanding hand to silence the room. A grimly determined expression settles on her pale cheekbones and lips, but her eyes flash a barely harnessed anger. She beckons to a couple of guards to come forward. “Arrest Minder Brivardo immediately and take him to a holding unit. He is to be charged with corruption, and for breaching laws against profiting from the sale of classified Syndicate information.”

  Sweating profusely, Minder Brivardo jumps to his feet and protests loudly, but the guards swiftly secure his hands with a restraint band and escort him from the room.

  Justice Kuberev turns back to face Velkan. “Considering this new testimony, and the fact that the dermal sculptor cited by Brivardo is deceased and cannot be called upon to verify his claim, a revocation of execution is granted. However, you will still stand trial for lesser crimes. For aiding and abetting the convicted Cweltan terrorist, Trattora, I hereby sentence you to serve out the remainder of your natural lifespan on the penal colony, Skytus. You will both be shipped out by cargo freighter tonight.”

  The verdict receives a standing ovation, almost as thunderous as mine. I bite down on my lip, numb to the pain as the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. Despite the jubilation of the crowd, a wave of relief surges over me. I owe Ghil a huge debt of gratitude. Velkan should have been freed after Stefanov’s testimony, but at least his life has been spared for now.

  Justice Kuberev dismisses Stefanov from the stand and waits until he is seated before turning her attention to Phin. A mirthless smile sits on her lips. “And now we come to the final collaborator in this murderous plot, a man who was unquestionably one of the finest and most promising fighter pilots Aristozonex ever produced, a man slated by my husband to lead the military one day.” Her voice grows shriller as her face twists with rage. “A man my husband trusted to protect our daughter. We need no further witness to his guilt than what we have already heard from the survivors of the doomed mission to Cwelt, a mission in which this man standing here befor
e us should have been serving at his Commander’s side. Phin’s crimes merit nothing less than execution by military firing squad. I will now ask the other justices to cast their votes on his sentencing.”

  Silence descends over the courtroom as one-by-one they nod in Justice Kuberev’s direction. The spectators remain subdued, voicing neither approval nor disapproval. Phin was one of their own, a rising star on Aristozonex, and now they have lost another hero.

  Blood pounds in my ears as Justice Kuberev rises to her feet again, her long gown billowing out behind her. “By unanimous vote of the Supreme Chancery of Aristozonex, I pronounce the verdict to be death by firing squad. The sentence is to be carried out at dawn in the sight of the justices, and broadcast via VidScreen to every quadrant on Aristozonex, and to every planet under Syndicate jurisdiction.”

  A harsh gasp sticks in my throat. I watch helplessly as two guards release Phin from the cage and march him from the courtroom, his stride as measured and confident as ever. Pain sears my heart. It’s surreal to think that Velkan and I will never see him again. Tonight, we will be shipped off to a penal colony to perish in servitude, and tomorrow, Ayma will be forced to witness Phin’s death at the hands of the military he loved.

  The Chancery official adjourns the proceedings, and after the justices file out, the guards unlock our cage and escort Velkan and me back to our holding units to await freighter transportation to Skytus.

  I curl up at the back of the holding unit, the feeling only just returning to my limbs now that the effects of the ElektroProd are beginning to fade. Just like the previous night, this night feels as if it could stretch on forever, but at some point, I fall into a troubled sleep. The next thing I know, the gray-haired guard is shaking me awake.

  I sit up and dart a confused look around me, disoriented for a moment until it all comes rushing back. We have been sentenced.

  “Time to go,” the guard barks, sounding even more tense than she was when she escorted me to the Fleet Commander’s funeral. She needn’t worry about me trying to escape. My legs are still far too wobbly to run far.

  When I climb into the LevAuto, I can’t look Velkan in the eye for fear I will break down and make it harder for both of us. Everything The Four accomplished on Mhakerta seems like such a wasted effort now. We are decimated. Ayma is a prisoner in her own house, Phin has been sentenced to death, and I will never return to Cwelt to free my people. Worst of all, the freedom that I strove so hard to obtain for Velkan has been cruelly snatched from him again. He is doomed to die a slave after all.

  When the LevAuto sets down at the airbase, Velkan and I stumble out into the bracing night air, prodded on by several heavily-armed guards. I glance briefly up at the stars winking overhead, saddened by the knowledge that they are the only friends we have in our last moments on Aristozonex. I don’t want to think about the sun rising in a few more hours, because I can’t bear the thought of Phin facing his executioners at dawn. And I can’t believe that Velkan will never see another sunrise as a free man, that he’s destined to serve out the rest of his days as a convict on Skytus because of me. Buir and Ghil won’t rest until they come up with some desperate scheme to rescue us, but the truth is that convicts don’t escape from Skytus.

  Masked guards herd Velkan and me up the docking ramp of an armored freighter and tie us up alongside a stack of tires, crates, and rough-hewn hemp sacks of supplies designated for the colony. Evidently, this is not a standard prisoner transport, but something thrown together as Justice Kuberev was eager to be rid of us as quickly as possible. The cargo ramp groans closed and my last vestige of hope dissipates as the bay descends into shadows.

  “We need to prepare ourselves, Trattora,” Velkan says quietly, resting his head against mine. “Whatever life awaits us on Skytus, it will be a brutal one. It’s no secret the penal colonies are little more than death camps.”

  “But it’s not hopeless. We survived the collective on Mhakerta,” I remind him.

  Velkan pulls his lips into a sad grin. “For a few days. And it was nowhere near as harsh as a penal colony, trust me.”

  I study his face for a moment and decide against asking for details. There’s nothing to be gained now by listening to the horror stories Ghil likely told him about his time on Diretus. Between the face-eating monkeys and the tongue-less prisoners, I saw enough myself to know that the barbarity on these colonies is uncensored.

  “We’re going to find a way to escape from Skytus,” I say, as much to convince myself as him. I tilt my head toward him and kiss him softly on the lips. “I’ve dreamed of a future where we grow old together. I believe in that dream. This isn’t going to be the end for us, Velkan.”

  He says nothing but lifts his bound hands to run his fingers gently over my hair in response. He doesn’t want to crush that dream, it’s all we have to live for.

  The truth is I may never see Velkan again on Skytus, let alone have the chance to plan an escape with him that will likely end in death for us both.

  He brushes a lock of hair from my face. “Security won’t be anywhere near as lax as it was on the collective.”

  “I know,” I say, even though I don’t. “But, there’s always a way out. We just need to find it.”

  He gives me a tender smile, laced with sadness, like he’s indulging me in a fantasy he knows will never happen.

  I rest my head on his shoulder and peer into the cobwebbed corner of the cargo hold. “They’ll separate us when we get there, won’t they?”

  “Yes,” he says, his voice close to inaudible. “And brand us.”

  I scrunch my eyes shut against the diabolical images that flash to mind. “Ayma will petition the Chancery to pardon us.”

  “Ayma has no voice on Aristozonex now. It will be a long time before her mother trusts her again.”

  I mull over his words. He’s right that Ayma won’t be able to sway the Chancery after the stunt she pulled, but she’s too brilliant to sit on the sidelines. She’ll figure out a way to outwit her guards again. And when she does, she’ll come for us.

  I swallow hard. Even if she’s not too late to save us, we won’t be The Four anymore without Phin.

  The hull rattles as the thrusters engage and the freighter lifts off. The stench of fuel fills the cargo bay.

  “How long will it take us to reach Skytus?” I ask.

  “In a cargo vessel like this, about three days, if we don’t stop off to refuel or trade anywhere along the way.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and our ship will be intercepted,” I say.

  Velkan grimaces. “Either body poachers or Maulers in the part of the Netherscape we’re headed to. Take your pick.”

  I grimace and nestle into him. “I’ll sleep on it. You should get some rest too.”

  I jerk awake when the ship’s hull shudders forcefully. “What was that?”

  “We’re stopping,” Velkan says straightening up.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes with my bound hands. “Are we at Skytus?”

  He shakes his head. “Too soon. We must be refueling or dropping off supplies or something.”

  I scoot up to a sitting position, suddenly alert. “We need to be ready in case there’s an opportunity to escape.”

  “Promise me you won’t do anything rash,” Velkan says. “If we’re going to make a move, it needs to be worth risking our lives for, something that will give us a fighting chance.”

  I frown back at him. “I’m not going to do anything stupid, but I’m not going to waste an opportunity either.”

  Velkan gives a reluctant nod, clearly ill-at-ease with my response.

  We fall silent as the freighter begins a gradual descent. The cargo bay illuminates and several guards appear, scurrying around gathering supplies and wheeling crates into position next to the cargo doors.

  “What port are we at?” I call out to them, but they ignore me and continue piling up supplies.

  The freighter sets down in a large docking bay with a heavy groaning and clanking of
metal. When the cargo door yawns open, I shield my eyes from the brightness of dawn streaming through. A wave of nausea courses through me when I remember that Phin’s execution is scheduled for today. It may have already taken place, for all I know.

  Velkan reads my mind. “Don’t think about it,” he urges. “Phin would want us to stay strong, like the soldier he was.”

  I nod, blinking furiously to hold back hot tears that threaten to spill despite my resolve to keep my emotions in check.

  The guards begin unloading the stacked cargo and wheeling it down the ramp and over to a waiting transport vehicle. I’m not sure what Aristozonex is trading, but based on the amount of security standing around outside, I strongly suspect it’s weapons. When all the crates are unloaded, the guards consult for a few minutes, throwing several glances our way.

  “They’re talking about us,” I say. “Wish I knew why.”

  “We’re about to find out,” Velkan mutters, as one of the guards strides up the ramp and across the bay toward us.

  “On your feet.” He unties us from the crates and motions us toward the door.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, confusion and panic hitting me in equal doses. I take a hesitant step backward. Are they going to execute us at some out-of-the-way fueling port and not bother taking us to Skytus?

  “I’m just following captain’s orders,” the guard barks. “Now move!”

  “Do what he says,” Velkan whispers to me urgently. “Now’s not the time.”

  The guard shoves us down the ramp and nods to two more masked guards waiting at the bottom. They march us across the station and up into the bay of a colossal state-of-the-art freighter that looks brand new.

  My heart thunders in my chest. Why are we being taken the rest of the way on this ship? The sickening thought occurs to me that Justice Kuberev might have paid someone off to dispose of us. Maybe the trial was all for show and she never had any intention of letting us live. I peer hesitantly around the dimly-lit cargo bay as the riveted steel doors close behind us with a pneumatic whoosh.