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Slave Empire - Prophecy

Page 47

by T C Southwell

Rayne stared at the door, her emotions in turmoil. Part of her longed to join him on the bridge and ask him questions, another part knew the answers would probably be lies, if she got any at all. A voice in the back of her mind shouted that she should stay out of his way and hope he really meant to release her, while the young, naive part of her insisted that he would make a powerful friend, and should be cultivated.

  In her confused state of indecision, she was unaware of how swiftly time passed until the door opened again, revealing the empty corridor. At this invitation, she rose and went to the bridge, where the Shrike sat on the pilot’s chair. A blue planet, mottled with white clouds and green land masses, shone like a jewel in the blackness.

  The Shrike turned his head. “We’re here. Octovar One.”

  “So,” she murmured, her voice quivering a little, “you really mean to release me.”

  “I’m not that much of a liar.”

  “But you are one.”

  He shrugged. “I have to spin the occasional yarn. Now, I don’t have much time. Are you ready?”

  Rayne experienced a strange pang of sadness, and wondered at it. In all likelihood, she would never meet him again, which was a good thing, yet she regretted it. She longed to ask him what would have happened if she had not been the Golden Child. What would he have done with her if she had just been another slave? The possible answers made her shudder, but she had no time to ponder the question further.

  He stood up, facing her. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes. I-I’m grateful to you.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not your friend, nor am I some sort of romantic figure out of one of your cheap novels or fairy tales. Reality is harsh, so forget about me and get on with your life.” As she cursed her unguarded musings, he said, “Shadowen, activate the transfer Net, and place our guest on the surface, in the principal city.”

  Rayne raised a hand in a belated gesture of farewell as the golden shimmer engulfed her, then the energy shell dispersed, and she stood on a bright, clean street beneath a clear blue sky. Atlanteans, dressed in their preferred loose, colourful garments, wandered past, some glancing at her. Gravcars swept by above and beside her; skywalks arched overhead, linking towering buildings. She made her way to a bench in a patch of red and green flora and sat on it, her legs shaking. Fortunately, the air was warm and calm, since she still wore the dress he had given her.

  An hour later, Tallyn and Rawn transferred in, and she ran into her brother’s arms. The energy shell surrounded them once more, and she was back aboard Vengeance.

 

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