Jess thought about the last few days. Maybe she was a grownup. Right then, however, all she wanted was her mom.
Another surge of ache and she shoved it down. Willet missed her change in demeanor as she struggled with a fresh wave of debilitating emotions.
“What do you think will happen to us?” she asked.
He shook his head. “They’ll get what information they can. Me they’ll probably kill.” Jess gasped at the matter-of-fact way he said it. “You,” he considered, “I’m not sure what they’ll do with you. Once they realize who you are they won’t kill you, that’s for sure. You’re way too important.”
She took small comfort in that, especially as she thought of him ending up dead in the bargain.
Then a door slammed somewhere down the hall and she jumped. Footsteps approached.
“Guess we’re about to find out.” Willet looked toward the entrance to the cell. She couldn’t believe he kept up his nonchalant attitude. All at once her breathing grew short, heart thumping in her chest, yet he just sat there, seemingly relaxed.
The footsteps drew up quickly outside, the lock was turned, the door opened and in walked two armored guards. Followed by …
The Shogun, flanked by two of the golden-robed guys.
“This is truly unprecedented,” the Shogun spoke immediately as he entered. He surveyed the room, looking over their heads. “To have infiltrated our defenses this far.
“You should know I’ve had the gun crews from the walls executed, their commanders as well. Absolutely amazing you made it as far as you did.”
Jess stared at him, mouth dry. Reflexively she swallowed. The way he smiled when he announced this, wasting no time with it, how he could at once find pleasure in what they’d accomplished, all while killing others for letting it happen, made her skin crawl.
This was truly an evil man.
Then he seemed to notice her for the first time. And as he did he stopped cold, expression going straight. He paused, a long pause, then stepped near, studying her more closely.
Very closely.
“It can’t be,” he said quietly. She shrank under his gaze, her impulse to crawl away but there was, of course, nowhere to go. Then his face brightened.
“It is!
“Ahhh.” Now he was truly pleased. “It’s you!
“This is too fortunate!”
And he turned from her, to the soldiers and robed warriors, forgetting everything else.
“Take her,” he ordered.
And he was gone. Leaving them, rushing off.
Before she could move she was surrounded by the two in gold robes and hauled to her feet. She glanced desperately at Willet, who in turn stood to do something but was stopped and held by the armed guards.
“It’ll be okay,” he lied, looking like he was trying to think of what to say. “Just don’t resist.” He seemed desperate to reassure her. But then she was gone, the men dragging her out of the cell and shutting the door behind them with a bang. The guards followed in step.
And they were on their way.
Away from the cell and the halls where it was. Down other halls and up stairs. Staying in the same building, ending at another room, this one as stark as the last though appointed with a bed, toilet and a chair. The lights in here were much, much brighter. She was brought in and turned around. Then abruptly, without warning—
They were ripping open the zipper of the operator suit, undoing the straps and pulling it down, around her ankles. They lifted her, squirming and … yanked it off, dropping her back to her feet. She gasped but they continued, grabbing the undergarments beneath and ripping them off too, everything, hurting her in their haste, and she froze in terror as the unthinkable became reality:
They’d stripped her naked.
She nearly retched, eyes darting to the inhuman faces of the four masked men; the golden masks of the ones in robes, the stony fighting masks of the guards—quivering beneath their unseeing gaze. Not a live expression among them, each hidden behind a grotesque disguise. For an eternity, it seemed, she stood there on display. The lights were bright, the room was cold, there was absolutely nowhere to hide, no way to escape their stares.
What are you doing?! she wanted to scream. What do you want?! Were they going to rape her?! All of them?! She began to hyperventilate.
Then another showed up, this one carrying a piece of green cloth. Was it a rope?! A gag?! This was too much …
It was a tunic. They pulled it roughly over her head, put her arms through—as by then she was too numb to move—the rough, sleeveless fabric raking her skin and, when all the way on, it hung below her knees. Covering her for the moment.
Then they noticed her watch. As she saw them eye it she covered it with her other hand, foolishly, holding it close. They just ripped her hand away, snatched her arm out and fumbled roughly with the band until they had it off.
Then they were gone. Just like that. The door closed and locked behind.
For a long time she stood there trembling in shock. Staring at the featureless walls, the solid door. Knees about to buckle in the cold, bright room, trying desperately to fight the panic.
It wasn’t working.
Slowly, after a time, she went to the bed and sat.
Shaking.
She leaned to the side, rolled over and curled into a ball.
Alone.
All alone.
Sobbing.
CHAPTER 37: A TEST OF ALLEGIANCE
Bang! Bang! Bang! loud raps on the door woke Jessica with a start. She sat up, gasping for breath, lights harsh and making her squint, feeling around for anything familiar. Before she could get her bearings the door opened and two of the golden-robed warriors entered. Their expressionless fighting masks made her jump again and she screamed.
Quickly everything came flooding back. But there was no time to gain any composure. They grabbed her and pulled her from the bed, feet skidding across the cold floor as they each held a bicep and dragged her from the room. Hurriedly she started taking steps of her own to keep up, heart racing.
How long had she been out? Five minutes? Five hours? She cast about the featureless halls; no windows, no nothing to tell her how much time had passed.
Now she was fully awake. She’d been in a dead sleep, now she was alert and walking, heart pounding. This time they went further up, ascending several more flights of stairs, encountering no other people in the bleak, empty building. The golden-robe guys were tall, definitely men—or Amazon women—and wore boots with rubber soles. As they ascended the stairs she felt a change in the floor underfoot, shifting from the cold hard tile of the hallways to a sandpaper-like surface on the steps, reminding her of similar things on Earth. That these people had non-skid safety concerns struck her, for some reason, as incredibly unreal. There were too many things like Earth for this to be another world. It just seemed impossible. The handrails, the paint on the walls—you couldn’t tell the difference. It even had an institutional smell, like mothballs or floor wax or something.
The warriors led her ever upward, continuing to what must be the very top, and there, at the upper landing of the final flight of stairs, they opened the door on a wide, well-lit room that stretched the entire width of the building, covered on one side with windows. She was shocked for a moment to see it was still dark outside. This long night was far from over. She looked around the room. No one there except …
The Shogun.
Across the way, standing, back to her, looking out the reflective glass of the night-darkened panes. His own reflection stared back at him and Jess thought she saw him staring at hers, not outside as he pretended to be doing. Trying to affect a certain control of the situation he didn’t really have. As if to make her believe she wasn’t that important. As if to suggest he would make time for her as he saw fit. Only she knew different. She knew she was very important to this man.
“Leave us,” he commanded, and the warriors withdrew.
Leaving them alone.
&
nbsp; As the sound of the door closing echoed in her ears she fought to prepare herself for what came next. She felt painfully vulnerable in the loose tunic. Weak. In response to those feelings, however, she decided to stand tall, shoulders back, chin up with as much pride as she could muster.
The Shogun remained where he was. He was probably in his sixties; cliché Fu Manchu mustache; gray, long hair tied back in a queue like a samurai. He had a sallow comlexion. She tried not to stare at him, growing ever more disgusted as the reflection of his eyes roved all over her.
Outside the windows she could see the lights of the power plant. They were at least a dozen floors up. The large, world-moon that looked like Mars hung full and bright in the night sky, slipping toward the horizon. Morning must surely be coming soon.
The Shogun turned. Walked closer. Taking his time, it seemed, using the opportunity to more closely ogle her.
“I am Ashikagi,” he said, “Shogun of the Dominion.”
Jessica said nothing.
“I know your name, Jessica. I know where you come from. I know how you got here.”
She tried not to react, tried not to be shocked. Too late, though, and she steadied herself beneath his increasingly perverse gaze.
“You’re confused,” he said, “but that is understandable.” He came closer—though maintaining a safe distance. It seemed he might be cautious of her, if only a little, and the recognition of that gave her a tiny boost of determination. “You should know that you’re a hero among the Dominion.”
She struggled to imagine why he sought to flatter her. She would’ve expected him to yell, to threaten. Not …
“You helped return one of our most powerful warriors,” he said. “For that we are grateful. We can overlook your attempts against us. Your actions were driven by simple lack of understanding.”
He paused, then turned and went over to a sealed case on a pedestal. Jess noted he continued to keep his distance. Good idea, she thought. Because she’d already decided to stomp his wrinkled neck the first chance she got. I swear I’ll kill you! she seethed, anger surging with a force she’d never experienced before.
It felt good.
“What I need,” he stopped near the case, and it appeared he prepared to show her something. “What I intend, is to use this.” He pushed a button and the opaque cover slid back, revealing another, clear cover beneath.
Inside it …
The Icon.
She felt her eyes go wide.
Yet, in a way she’d almost seen it coming.
Ashikagi smiled.
“This is no doubt what you came for.” He paused to marvel at the shiny device, then took a few steps away. Jess was sure the case must be locked.
“I intend to use it,” he said. “For too long it has been sealed away as a relic, a Holy curiosity. Thanks to you we now know it is so much more.
“My goal is to forge diplomatic ties with your world. To go as an ambassador of peace. Of cooperation.
“For this I will surely need a guide.”
He looked pointedly at her, hinting none too subtly.
What was he up to?
“You’ve already demonstrated great resourcefulness,” he said. “I can guarantee you a prominent role in our collective future.”
Sunlight had started to shine beneath the horizon, creeping through the darkness ever so slightly. She noticed it now, the faintest beginnings of the day.
Dawn approached.
She was in no hurry to speak. In fact, she had no desire to speak to this man at all. Standing there, under his intense, icky scrutiny, silence hanging in the air, she tried to hold fast to what she already knew. He couldn’t be telling the truth. Everything was a point of view, of course, but bad guys were bad guys and this guy, this … Ashikagi, was a bad guy. He was out to enslave others. He captured Zac, broke his will, somehow, and now he was out to do it to her.
Yet … she had to consider …
Am I being stubborn? If she went along with him, at least for now—pretended to, anyway—maybe she could play along until she found an escape. Otherwise she saw no way out.
But what did she compromise? Was that a road down which she wanted to go, even though the situation was dire? She couldn’t fight her way out of this. Still, at that point she’d battled too hard against impossible odds; the idea of rolling over for this pathetic man …
And she was reminded of his darker purpose. Beneath his greed lurked lust. She could see that; could see he meant more than his simple words—all of which she shuddered to consider. Not because he was old, or nasty, but because he was him. She hated him; wanted him dead for what he’d done, for what he was putting her through. For what he’d done to Zac, the trouble he’d caused, and for people like Darvon and his family. Suddenly she couldn’t stomach the idea of siding with him, even if only faking.
She eyed the Icon, shiny in its case, right there in front of her. The way home, and there it was. He was teasing her with it, of course. Why hadn’t it been used before? Why did the Dominion just hide it? It had been a Holy Relic, preserved with their dead Emperor, this she knew, but why had no one broken that long-running precedent? Were they afraid of it? Ashikagi seemed so, if only a little.
The pause stretched, too long, and his face turned down in a frown, intensified by the Fu Manchu. But before he could say more a senior officer burst into the room, shattering the moment.
“Lord,” the officer came up short out of protocol, obviously bringing urgent news.
Ashikagi’s expression collapsed completely and he turned to him.
“We are not to be disturbed,” he warned.
“Lord,” the officer shook his head in disbelief, “the Venatres have a force on the way here. To the Crucible.”
CHAPTER 38: OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS
Ashikagi went rigid. Jess did a double take, processing the words that seemed to echo in the wide room.
The Venatres!
The good guys are coming!
The officer went on. “A Venatres force,” he repeated, as if trying to believe it himself. “Several units broke off in response to the Kazerai attack. Mobilized before the Kazerai reached them.”
This statement shook Ashikagi.
“The Venatres are now on their way here,” the officer continued. “Perimeter defenses report a fleet of aircraft enroute. Carrying light armor.”
“Impossible!” Ashikagi’s attention was now fully on his senior officer, who in turn stood stiffly before him. The pain the man experienced was twofold: he was not only the messenger, carrying terrible news, he was also, just like the Shogun, about to come under attack. Jess thrilled with the unbelievable turn of events. Hoping desperately it was true. It meant little to her right then, stuck in that room with these horrible men, but she let the thought buoy her.
Ashikagi fumed.
“Spies!” He clenched bony fists. “There must be spies!” He whirled on Jessica, friendly veneer of moments ago falling completely away. She could see he suspected her, somehow. And she wondered: What changed? Why did the Venatres come now? When there was clearly no hope of attacking the Crucible before? Had Satori managed to change their minds? Had they decided to attack after all? Was it some sort of improbable rescue mission?
If she could only hold out a little longer.
Ashikagi came closer. She cowed before him; searched his face, trying to determine what he was about to do, what he was about to say—that she might guard herself against it. He wasn’t a big man, not at all, but he was still a man and bigger and taller than her. Behind him the officer shifted nervously, relieved to have the Shogun’s attention off him, if only for a moment.
At once her mind took a snapshot of the situation. A moment of lucidity; the mind of a warrior, not a frightened girl, and in that instant her emotions flipped. The room was empty save the two old men, both of whom were standing close. Both were a head taller than her. Both looked less than robust in one way or another. Could she take them? The idea came to her, unbidden: take
them out! Images of how she would do it flitting at the edge of action. The senior officer was soft, the Shogun was old.
That evaluation passed as quickly as it came, leaving her back in the thick of it, but the brief moment of contemplation started her mind running.
“What do you know?” the Shogun came all the way to her, closer than he’d been so far, careless; insinuating her involvement in whatever was happening. Until then he’d been making it a point to keep his distance. Now she could smell his foul breath as he loomed near. “What have you done?” His lip curled in anger, almost leaning over her, arrogant. Wanting to strike her.
His mistake.
She locked his eyes, bold, burning into them. Courage rising.
Mind of a warrior …
And kicked him square in the crotch. So sudden, with such unexpected, fury-driven force it dropped him straight to the ground. Doubled-over in silent, breathless agony.
The senior officer didn’t move. Just stood there, frozen in place. It was too sudden. The shock of her attack held him in an instant of indecision.
Enough for her to act. She leapt with a flying punch, fist stretched out, feet back like a superhero in flight, landing a strike with amazing force right to his throat. Even as the punch connected she was shocked with its effectiveness—shocked with the speed of her own action—watching the officer fall back, grabbing for his crushed windpipe as he crumpled to the floor.
Two men down. Neither making a sound.
It was over. That fast. She was in the room with the two of them completely out of commission, neither able to speak, neither able to breathe. All at once her heart was racing, her hands were shaking. For a moment she couldn’t move.
She trembled.
What did I do?!
But her attention was already sliding from them. Turning directly to …
The Icon.
Flexing her fists she worked to calm her breathing, forcing her grisly handiwork from her mind. She faced the Icon fully. Compelled by it. What it promised. Filling her vision, sitting in its case unguarded.
Star Angel: Awakening (Star Angel Book 1) Page 33
