“So the new drewgs’ll be com…comin’ roun’ for supper t’morrow night,” Gorn said.
Anna’s ears perked up—was he slurring his words? Looking up at the huge Trollox, she saw that both heads were nodding sleepily. Indeed, the yellow eyes of the left head were almost closed, though its mouth continued to speak.
“I tol’…tol’ ‘em whatta good chef I got—what cooks Trollox food prop…proper-like,” it was saying. “So they all said they’d come and… and…”
“And what, Master?” Anna asked politely.
But instead of answering, the left head fell face-first into the plate of green slop in front of it. The right head followed and soon the huge Trollox was sprawled across the dining room table, food smeared on its faces as it snored heavily.
Finally!
Seeing her chance, Anna jumped up and reached for the chain around the left head’s neck. It was silver and very fine-link—she had to hunt for it in her captor’s greasy, hairy neck-rolls, a grimace of distaste on her features as she did. At last, though, she found it. Quickly and quietly, she unfastened the clasp and began to pull it off the thick neck.
“What are you doing, stupid girl?” The hissing voice startled her badly. She looked up to see the right head was somehow still awake, though its glowing red eyes looked squinty with sleep. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” it demanded again, querulously.
“Nothing, Master—nothing at all,” Anna said quickly, concealing the long chain with its key in her hand. “Just go back to sleep,” she told it. “Go to sleep—you’re tired, aren’t you?”
“Never liked you,” the right head hissed at her. “Stupid…girl…” And then its eyes drifted closed and it began to snore almost as loudly as the left head.
“I never liked you either, you nasty thing!” Anna informed it. Then, key in hand, she rushed into the kitchen. “Dark!” she called excitedly. “I got it—I got it!”
The plan was going to work and they would get away within the hour—she was sure of it.
Chapter Twenty-six
Dark turned the key in the lock and then heaved with all his might against the heavy metal door of the treasure room. It was incredibly heavy—more than a normal humanoid male could have managed. It was almost too much for Dark, but he said a silent prayer to the Goddess and pushed again, putting his shoulder to the cold metal and bracing with his legs to give a powerful thrust.
“Here—I can help too.” Anna had been standing to one side, holding the box with the fake Shannom-rah and watching anxiously. Now she put her shoulder to the door as well and pushed with him.
It seemed to be the last little bit the door needed—at last it began to move.
“Good, that’s good, baby,” Dark told her in a low, strained voice. “Keep it up, almost there!”
The door swung smoothly inward without a creek on its well-oiled hinges and soon they found themselves standing in the middle of the treasure room.
“Wow,” Anna breathed, looking around at the rare and expensive art arrayed on the dark wood racks around the perimeter of the room. “I’ve heard about this place but Gorn has never let me in here. All of this must be priceless.”
“You’re right about that. But we don’t have time to admire it.” Quickly, Dark went across to the velvetex cushion where the Shannom-rah lay, glittering like a living rainbow. He started to pick it up, but encountered a sudden resistance. When he tugged at the rainbow crystal, it pulled a little way away from the cushion but then he met resistance and it snapped back into place the minute he let it go. “What in the Seven Hells?” he muttered, frowning at it.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Anna asked anxiously. She was admiring the selection of antique weapons in one corner of the room, Dark saw. In fact, she was looking at the same strange projectile weapon that had fascinated him when Gorn had brought him in—the double-barreled, silver one that had two triggers, one white and one black. Anna was holding it carefully, turning it this way and that. What had Gorn called it? Some kind of Synthian weapon? He couldn’t remember but it didn’t matter anyway.
“I’m getting some resistance here,” he said, tugging at the Shannom-rah again, only to have it yanked back into place the minute he let it go. “I don’t know what’s going on—it keeps getting pulled back to the cushion.”
“Oh, I know what it is.” She came over, still holding the Synthian gun. “It’s a microfilament web—I heard Gorn telling one of his drewgs about it.”
“A microfilament web? What in the Seven Hells is that?” Dark asked, exasperated.
“It’s made of filaments as fine as a spider’s web and as strong as steel cables,” Anna explained. “They’re also completely invisible when they’re dry.”
“They certainly are.” Dark yanked experimentally on the crystal again with the same result. “So is there any way to break them?”
“No, but there should be an opening in them somewhere,” Anna said, frowning. “But again, you’ll never be able to see it while the filaments are dry. You have to mist water over them and let it bead up so you can see where the opening is. Either that or just keep feeling around until you find it, but that will probably take a while.”
“I can see that,” Dark growled in frustration. He just wanted to get out of here!
“I’ll run get you some water—isn’t there a mister you use for some of the more delicate marinades in the kitchen?” Anna asked.
He nodded. “There is but I’ll get it. It’s not safe for you to go alone.”
“Gorn’s asleep—I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”
She glided away before he could protest again. For a moment, Dark thought about going after her but then he decided that she was right—Gorn was sleeping and there was no one else in the house but Replicants, which were always inactive unless there was a service required of them.
He decided to try and find the opening in the microfilament web by touch while he waited. It would certainly save time if he could just slip the real crystal out and put the fake crystal in its place without having to mist the whole thing with water.
He put the fake crystal down and, using both hands, began feeling all around the Shannom-rah. At last, he found what he thought was the opening.
Now to get the real one out and put the fake one in, he thought, concentrating hard on his task.
He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even notice someone coming up behind him.
* * * * *
Anna ran quickly from the trophy room to the kitchen, only pausing for a moment to make sure that Gorn was still snoring on the table. The big Trollox appeared to be sleeping soundly, so she went confidently into the kitchen and began looking for the mister.
But the little implement wasn’t where she had last seen it. Frowning, she dug through the cabinets. Where could it have gone? She remembered Dark using it only the other night, when he had made her a special kind of roasted tree root that tasted like a mixture of sweet potatoes and carrots. He had used the mister to coat it in a marinade that tasted a little like maple syrup with cinnamon in it. The dish had been delicious and Anna had asked him how to make it. She—
“Oh, there you are!” she exclaimed, spotting the mister at last. It looked a little like a squirt gun with a round copper bulb screwed into the bottom.
Just as she was reaching for it, there was an ominous sound from the other room. A clunking, clattering thud like a heavy piece of furniture falling over.
Anna jumped, her hand going automatically to her throat.
Something cold touched her skin and she looked down and realized she was still holding the odd-looking silver gun with the black and white triggers. She hadn’t realized she’d taken it from the trophy room. Now she examined it in more detail, feeling like her heart was beating in her throat.
Could it be used as a weapon? she wondered. Or was it for display purposes only? Could she use it to defend herself or would it only be evidence that she had broken into the trophy room i
f Gorn caught her with it?
Don’t be silly! she told herself uneasily. Gorn’s fast asleep and snoring on the dining room table.
Except, she realized, she didn’t hear the loud, buzz-saw sound of his snores anymore. Well, that didn’t have to mean anything, she told herself. Sometimes he rolled over in bed and didn’t start snoring again for a few minutes.
But he’s not in bed, whispered a little voice in her head. He’s—
Suddenly the swinging metal door to the kitchen slapped open and Gorn staggered in and saw her.
“What the fuck, girlie?” the left head roared, making Anna jump.
His faces were still smeared with food and his eyes were half-slitted with sleep but he was most definitely up and around.
* * * * *
Dark didn’t hear a thing as he finally slipped the fake Shannom-rah into place in the microfilament net and laid it back on the black velvetex cushion. All he knew was that small, strong hands were suddenly wrapped around his throat, squeezing the life out of him.
“What the fuck?” he gasped, attempting to get free of his attacker. But the hands were strong—inhumanly so.
“I knew that you were not mine the moment I laid eyes on you,” a soft, neutral voice that sounded neither male nor female whispered in his ear. “My factory never produced a Replicant like you. And I knew that you must be looking for the same thing I was—this!”
Suddenly the Shannom-rah was plucked from his hand.
“Hey!” Dark shouted—or tried to, anyway. With the fingers wrapped around his throat, he was getting less and less air. He grabbed for them, trying to get a hold so he could pull them free.
The Knower! It’s the fucking Knower—it’s inside the Replicants! he realized, remembering how Baird had warned him the AI could enter any of its creations and control them. Can’t let it have the Shannom-rah!
But at the moment the Knower already seemed to have it.
“Don’t bother resisting, Kindred.” This time the voice wasn’t just in his ear—it was coming from somewhere else as well.
Whirling around, Dark saw it was one of the auburn-haired Replicants speaking to him. And presumably it was another one of them who was currently choking the life out of him.
“Let…me…go!” he gasped, prying at the inhumanly strong fingers.
“Why do you not just let yourself die?” the Replicants asked, speaking in eerie unison. “If you simply relax, your personality can be instantly recorded in the intricate pathways of the Shannom-rah.” The Replicant in front of him held up the shimmering crystal. “Let yourself die and I promise I will resurrect you, in a far better body than the one you currently occupy. A Replicant body,” it said, the auburn-haired Replicant’s glossy mouth moving as it shaped the words.
“No…fucking…thank you,” Dark grunted. Since he couldn’t pry the fingers from around his neck, he could barely get the words out. Goddess the damn things were strong!
Have to get air soon. It’ll kill me and then go after Anna if it sees her!
The thought of the woman he loved in danger seemed to give him fresh strength. Drawing back one arm, he elbowed his attacker hard in the guts. He didn’t know if it would hurt the Replicant—he was just hoping to dislodge it.
He was partially successful. One small, strong hand left his neck and sharp fingernails raked down his cheek before trying to find a grip on his throat to start choking him again.
Dark didn’t intend to give it a chance.
As pain sang through him and hot blood trickled down his cheek, he swung around in a circle, using his momentum to lift the Replicant hanging off of him into the air. As its legs flew out, they hit the other Replicant—the one holding the Shannom-rah—hard in the face, knocking it down.
The precious crystal flew out of the Replicant’s hands and went skittering across the floor.
“No!” both Replicants cried in unison. The first one let go of Dark’s neck and both of them scrambled after the rainbow-crystal.
Dark started to go after them, but he knew how strong they were now and there were two of them and only one of him. Glancing around, his eyes fell on the weapons display. There, lying in the center, was a Go-rontian pulse pistol. They were famous, he remembered, for never running out of charge—even after years of disuse.
Running across the room, he grabbed for the pistol, aimed, and blew the first Replicant’s head off in a shower of bluish-gray brains and a spray of bright pink blood. Then he took aim at the other…
* * * * *
“What the fuck is goin’ on in here, girlie?” Gorn’s left head snarled as it spotted Anna. “Why did I fall asleep in my dinner?”
“I…I don’t know, Master,” Anna quavered, hiding the strange silver gun with its double triggers quickly in the folds of her robe. “I…I just came in here to get you another drink. I didn’t know you fell asleep.”
“Liar,” hissed the right head, its glowing red eyes squinting balefully at her. “You did something to us! Admit it, stupid girl!”
“Doesn’t matter if she did,” the left head roared. “Because now we’re gonna do something to her. It’s breeding time, girlie!”
To Anna’s horror, he pulled open his trousers, displaying the most massive shaft she had ever seen. It was, she thought, even bigger than the last spreader he had used on her—three feet of wrinkled gray flesh that reminded her of an elephant’s trunk in its size and thickness.
“No!” she gasped, trying to move away from him. She wanted to run but he was between her and the door.
As he advanced on her, his massive member waving in front of him like some obscene flag, she could smell a ripe, cheesy odor like dirty feet drifting towards her. The smell almost made her gag but she knew if she stopped to throw up, all would be lost. If Gorn got his hands on her, he would breed her and he wouldn’t care if she was puking while he did it. He might even like it, the evil bastard!
“Come on now, girlie,” the left head said, as Gorn came closer and Anna kept backing away. “Those sweeties I gave you must be working by now. Supposed to stretch you out, they are. All you have to do is lay back and let Gorn do all the work.”
“I’d rather die than have you anywhere near me!” Anna gasped. Suddenly her back hit something hard and she could go no further. Whipping her head to the side, she saw to her horror that she had literally backed herself into a corner.
She was trapped and there was no where to go—no way to get free. Gorn was coming for her and she couldn’t get away!
Chapter Twenty-seven
Dark was just putting the real Shannom-rah in his pocket and wondering what in the hell he was going to do about this mess when the third Replicant came for him.
“Goddess damn it!” he growled as the thing grabbed hold of the Shannom-rah with one hand while trying to claw him with the other.
Lifting the pistol, he prepared to fire but just before he pulled the trigger, the Replicant collapsed in a heap at his feet.
“What the Seven Hells?” Dark looked at it uneasily. What had just happened? He hadn’t even shot it—had he?
Stepping forward, he kicked the thing over on its back and studied its unblemished front. It had full breasts and long, auburn hair, just as the others had and it appeared to be perfectly all right except for the blank, lifeless look in its wide blue eyes.
Dark was just stooping down to check on it, when he heard a desperate, frightened scream coming from the direction of the kitchen.
Anna! She’s in trouble!
Cursing under his breath, he shoved the Shannom-rah into his pocket, got a good grip on his pistol, and took off at a dead run. If that big bastard Gorn came anywhere near her, Dark was going to take him apart piece by fucking piece!
* * * * *
Gorn made a grab for her but Anna ducked, hunching in on herself, trying to turn into an impenetrable ball at his huge feet.
“Come on, girlie—no use puttin’ it off!” the left head growled as his massive member swayed in her face. �
��Told you I was gonna breed you soon as I got home—I’m just keepin’ my promise, so I am.”
“No! No! Leave me alone!” Anna screamed. She tried to get further away from the elephant-trunk of a cock with its disgusting, dirty feet and rotten cheese odor. But it was no use—Gorn was getting closer and closer.
As she moved, she felt something hard and cold bump against her thigh. Suddenly she remembered the weird-looking gun with the double triggers. She’d been afraid that Gorn might see it and know she’d been into the trophy room. Now, she didn’t care any more. She was in trouble already—the worst trouble she could be in.
Hands shaking, she reached in her robes and pulled out the strange silver weapon.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted again. “Or I’ll shoot!”
“What?” The left head seemed perplexed but the right head, as always, was sharper.
“Look at her hands—look what she’s got!” it shrieked. “That stupid girl—she got into our trophy room! She must have drugged us and taken the key when we were asleep!”
“What?” The left hand scrabbled around Gorn’s left neck and came up empty. The left head’s glowing yellow eyes narrowed in rage. “What the fuck, girlie?” it roared. “Where’s the key to my trophy room?”
Leaning down, the huge Trollox made a swipe at her.
Saying a prayer, Anna pointed the silver gun at him and squeezed one of the triggers—she wasn’t sure which.
A bright blue beam shot out of the snub-nosed muzzle of the silver gun and hit Gorn right in his huge, wrinkled gray shaft. Anna expected to see it explode in horrible bloody chunks, but for a moment, nothing happened. Was the gun useless then? Was it just some kind of fancy laser pointer that didn’t do anything at all?
Then Gorn’s massive cock began to shrink.
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