by Tim Marquitz
Chapter Seventeen
Lina and the others followed the two men and their entourage of guards to another area of town, and while it appeared slightly more maintained and less weathered than the last location, there was nothing that made it feel as if the group were just out for a lovely stroll.
The two men knocked on the door of a squat, thick building that took up most of the block. A man in a black robe opened it and invited them in. The fur on the back of Lina’s neck stood up as she watched from her perch across the road. The squadron of guards remained outside, taking up stations.
“Guess that confirms they’re all connected then,” Krawg said, having spied the zealot at the door.
Lina nodded. “Looks that way.”
“Wonder what they’re doing here?” Torbon asked, settling in to get comfortable, obviously presuming they were in for a long wait like at all the other locations.
“Could be anything,” Lina answered.
“But nothing good,” Cabe corrected.
Lina couldn’t help but agree with that assessment. Nothing had been good since they’d arrived.
“I wish I knew what was going on,” the engineer mused. “It’s like having a game board with all these moving pieces floating around and not knowing any of the rules. It’s frustrating.”
“That’s when you say ‘gack it’ and cheat,” Torbon replied, grinning.
Krawg chuckled. “And how exactly do you intend to do that?”
Torbon rubbed his chin, thinking. “Well, first, I’d—”
“Find food?” Cabe cut in.
Torbon broke into a broad grin. “You know me so well.”
“I could get behind that plan,” Krawg agreed, nodding at Torbon.
“Doesn’t look like you’re gonna get the chance,” Lina told him, tapping Torbon in the ribs and pointing at movement across the street. “Unless of course any of these guys are planning on bringing us over some takeout.”
The crew crept closer to the edge and looked out over the street below. Krawg grunted, and Cabe mimicked him, obviously agreeing with the sentiment, whatever it was.
“Zealots,” Cabe announced unnecessarily. They all knew what they were. The problem was how many of them there happened to be.
At first, just a few men stepped outside and milled among the guards, then two more joined them, and the building seemed to spit them out as if it was manufacturing them.
Ten, fifteen, twenty-five, forty men walked out of the building in rapid succession. It looked like a convention at a robe factory, Lina thought, staring down at the group who stood silently, not saying so much as a word to one another or to the guards they had essentially swallowed whole into their midst.
“That’s a whole lot of zealots,” Torbon muttered.
Lina definitely agreed with that assessment as she looked over the crowd. She spotted the scarred one among their ranks, grateful to at least know where one of the men were right then. The guards that had come with him began a push toward each other, apparently feeling uncomfortable among so many of the zealots.
“They don’t have their hoods on, though,” Cabe mentioned. “That must be a good thing, right?”
Lina didn’t think it was.
“Why are they just sitting there?” Krawg asked, scratching at the matted fur on his cheek.
As if in answer, several more zealots came out of the building and joined the rest. Once they were there, the men offered what looked like reassuring nods to those gathered closest.
The crowd of zealots sang a word aloud, each in tune and in perfect harmony, and then there was a flash of steel.
“What the gack?” Torbon shouted over the comm.
Lina felt as if she were going to be sick.
Down below, the mass of zealots turned on the guards, pulling knives and driving them down into the unsuspecting guards over and over again.
It happened so fast that it was over before Lina and the crew could really even process it.
“They…they killed them all,” Cabe mouthed, barely able to catch his breath and spit the words out.
The whole group of zealots started off like a herd that had been spooked.
They split into groups and circled around the nearby buildings, splitting apart even more and spilling out into the streets, hiding their weapons as they went. All of them headed in the same general direction yet all choosing to take a different route to get there, and not one of them looking back at the pile of bodies they’d left in their wake.
Lina struggled to breathe and caught sight of a flash of metal reflected from one of the stragglers, the last man to leave the house, and she focused in on him to keep from seeing the blood spilling across the road.
The zealot stepped around a corner to be out of sight of the street and lifted up his robes. Lina readied to look away, thinking distractedly that she was about to witness a man urinating, when she realized he had clothes on underneath the robes.
But that wasn’t all he had.
There was a wide belt wrapped around his waist, a number of wires looped underneath what looked like full pockets in the belt. The man tugged a loose wire up, apparently what Lina had seen reflecting the sun, and hooked it to one of the pockets.
Her breath caught in her lungs as she realized what the man had just done and what he was wearing.
“Oh…gack!” she mumbled as the man lowered his robes and scuttled off to follow the rest of the strolling zealots. She swayed at the revelation and stuck a hand on the ledge to hold herself steady.
“What is it?” Torbon asked, coming over to her to check if she was okay. “What’s wrong now?”
“We are so gacked,” she muttered, staring off after the zealots.
“Why is everyone stealing my line?” Torbon complained halfheartedly, clearly not wanting to process what they’d just witnessed.
Cabe came over and grabbed Lina by the shoulder. “What’s going on? Uh, I mean, besides all that down there.”
She shrugged him off and plopped down on the rooftop, drawing her view screen out of her suit. Her fingers flew across the keypad as she accessed Dent’s network and started poring through it.
“Are you gonna tell us, or what?” Torbon asked, growing impatient. “Things are getting out of hand.”
“Oh…” she let out, looking up with wide eyes. “We’ve got trouble. Big trouble.”
“You mean bigger trouble than a bunch of guys stabbing a bunch of other guys?” Torbon asked.
Lina ignored his pleas for clarification and jumped on the comm.
“Taj, Dent,” she called out. “We’ve got a serious issue out here,” she told them. “The zealots are on the move. They’ve killed a bunch of men and they’ve got explosives!”
“Explosives?” Cabe asked, snapping about and looking over the ledge to where most of the zealots were still visible a short way off in the distance.
“You mean bombs?” Torbon asked for clarification. “These guys have bombs strapped to them on top of the damn knives? What happens if those things go off?”
Krawg raised both hands in the air and said, “Boom!”
Dent and Taj rode the elevator down in silence.
The trick of using Vetrus’s hand—which was what the bio-scanner announced his name to be—worked perfectly. Dent dragged the unconscious man along with them, just in case they needed to use his biometrics to bring the elevator back up.
Two floors down, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Taj stepped out ready to fight, expecting a mass of guards to be there waiting on them, but there was no one there. Just a short, empty hallway that ended at a thick, steel door. Several more doors lined the sides of the hall.
The smell of mildew struck her right away as she stepped off the elevator. The air was cold and crisp, especially compared to the warm air upstairs.
Dent motioned toward the far door with his eyes, and Taj spied another biometric scanner there.
“Logic, yes, I know,” she told the AI.
“It
might rub off on you yet,” he replied.
The pair crept down the hall and examined the doors to the side and discarded them, the bio-scanners covered in ages of dust that made it clear none of them had been used any time recently.
The one at the end, however, had been wiped clean.
Dent raised Vetrus’s hand and set the palm against the plate. The magnetic lock clicked, and Taj eased the door open, leading the way with her pistol out.
She put her gun away an instant later when she saw what was inside.
Taj hissed and raced into the cell.
“I’ll stay here with this fellow,” Dent said, watching the unconscious man as well as keeping an eye on Taj should she need assistance.
“Grom,” Taj shouted, running over to the battered man curled up in the corner of the tiny cell. She hunkered down beside him and checked his vitals with her eyepiece, doing a quick scan.
“He’s alive,” she said softly, “but only just barely.”
He looked like gack.
Grom Hadar had clearly been tortured, beaten so close to death that Taj was afraid to move him, but she didn’t have a choice. She eased him over and cradled him in her arms, calling his name over and over in hopes of rousing him.
She was partially successful.
His four eyes fluttered, but only one seemed to look straight at her. The rest rolled about without control.
“Can you hear me?” she asked.
His only response was a flutter of his eyelids.
She pressed on. “We’re from the Etheric Federation,” she told him. “We’re here to rescue you.”
Hearing that, he groaned and tried to sit up. Taj held him still so he wouldn’t hurt himself further.
“Don’t move,” she said. “We’ll get you out of here, just hang on.”
Grom mumbled something Taj couldn’t hear, so she leaned in closer, ignoring the dots of spittle that peppered her fur as he tried to speak.
“T-th-e qu-quee-n,” he finally managed, and Taj couldn’t help but admire the man’s tenacity.
“I know,” she told him, doing her best to reassure the wounded man. “We’ve seen the photos and heard the hooded-man’s speeches. We know the queen’s in danger, and as soon as we get you off-planet, we’ll be sure to warn her.”
Grom gurgled and did his best to shake his head. “N-n-no. M-mus-t-t s-sta-y.”
Taj narrowed her eyes as she tried to decipher what he meant. “Stay here.” She pointed to the cell.
His head wobbled side to side. “D-d-dult-a,” he spat out finally.
“I think he wants to remain in the city,” Dent clarified.
“I got that,” Taj snarled. “But why?” she asked.
Grom summoned a surge of strength and managed to sit up in her arms, his entire body trembling at the effort.
“B-br-r-o-ther,” he told her, and Taj had to lean in close to be sure she heard him properly.
“Brother?”
Grom nodded and slumped into her arms, lapsing into unconsciousness again.
“He has a brother here?” Taj asked Dent.
The AI shrugged. “I’m scanning the databases for information,” he answered. “The Federation didn’t provide us any familial connections and we didn’t think to ask. It wasn’t pertinent to the mission.”
Taj growled. “It apparently is now.”
She eased up, getting to her feet and carrying Grom with her, making sure she didn’t jostle him too much.
“Let’s get him someplace safe we can look him over, then we figure out whatever this gack is about his brother.” Taj bit back another growl, realizing that no amount of complaining was going to make anything better.
Dent used Vetrus’s hand one last time to open the elevator doors and booted him down the hall with swift kick.
Taj glanced over at the AI. “Why you leaving him behind?”
“He’s a bit of a drag,” he answered with a straight face.
“Seriously?” Taj laughed under her breath, unable to help herself despite how bad the attempted joke was.
The two rode up the elevator like they’d ridden it down: in silence.
Mostly.
Taj broke out into random chuckles every time she thought of Dent’s joke.
Once the reached the top floor, the two of them slipped out of the building, Taj still lugging Grom along.
“The zealots are on the move. They’ve killed a bunch of men and they’ve got explosives!” Lina’s voice shrieked across the comm the minute they stepped out into bright daylight.
“Wait!” Taj exclaimed. The words, while she’d understood them, didn’t make any sense. “What do you mean explosives?”
Lina came back, “They’re strapped with bombs, Taj. Probably all of them. They’re moving off in a group of forty or more. They killed all the men that escorted the two we were following.”
“Oh…Rowl,” Taj muttered, glancing over at Dent wide-eyed and trembling. She could imagine—and she didn’t want to—what these zealots were planning. There was no way it could end well, especially since it had started with blood already.
“Where are they headed?” Dent asked, giving Taj a moment to catch her breath and process the information.
“I think they’re headed for the palace,” Lina replied. “I scanned all the local news channels and databases and it looks as if Queen Rilan is holding a celebratory gathering of some sort for a sibling returning to the planet after being gone since they were kids or something.”
Taj stiffened at hearing that. “A public celebration?”
Lina came back breathless, “A huge one, Taj. It’s being held at the—”
“The palatial courtyards,” Dent finished, having apparently researched the information while Lina was talking. “There will be thousands of people in attendance.”
“Gack it!” Taj cursed. “Follow them, Lina. Follow them and stop as many of them as you can. We’ll meet you there soon. Out,” she shouted.
“I’ll reach out to security services anonymously and see if I can rally them,” Dent said, though Taj could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t think there was much hope of that.
Them being outlaws made it even harder to contact the palace and tell them what was happening. By the time they managed to clear their name enough to get the whole story out, whatever plot the zealots were masterminding would be long over.
“Maybe reach out to Zel, if you’re able,” she added. “He might be able to warn Queen Rilan quickly enough.”
Dent nodded, doing both apparently inside his head where Taj couldn’t hear.
Taj glanced down at Grom and shook her head. She’d almost forgotten him in all the craziness. “We can’t take him with us. He won’t make it.”
Dent agreed. “Then we drop him off at his hideout,” he said, starting off without waiting for Taj’s confirmation.
She chased after him, able to do nothing else. “What about—”
“I’ve checked Lina’s bug feeds,” he answered before she even got the whole question out. “The room is clear. No one’s been there since we last departed.”
Taj nodded, though Dent wasn’t looking at her to see it, and followed. Though she’d wanted to take to the roofs to keep from being spotted by any roving Heltrol or zealots, she knew Grom couldn’t handle the extra stress that kind of travel would put on his body. So instead, she hunkered down and ran as smoothly as she could to keep from jarring him overmuch, avoiding eye contact with anyone they came across.
After what seemed to be forever, they returned to Grom’s hideout and slipped inside unseen. Taj went over and laid him gently on the couch, pulling the blanket up over him and setting the pillow under his head.
She listened to his breathing for a second, and the only good thing she could take away from that was that he was breathing at all. He took short, shallow breaths in rapid succession, and his body twitched every time he exhaled.
“He doesn’t look good,” Taj said, frustrated that they hadn’t
been better prepared for all the possibilities. With no medical gear on them, there was nothing she could do to try and stabilize the man
“This will have to do, Taj,” Dent told her. “Security services have rerouted my call a couple hundred times or more trying to trace it. They’re not taking me seriously, as I feared they wouldn’t.”
Taj rose to her feet and looked at Grom one last time, wishing him the best. She ran a hand over his forehead, daring a prayer to Rowl and hoping she hadn’t made things worse by doing so.
Still, there was nothing else she could do for him right then. He had to make it through on his own if he was going to make it at all.
“Then it’s up to us,” Taj said, turning her back on Grom, for what she hoped was not the last time, and headed for the door. Dent followed.
Time was running out and people were going to die if they didn’t do something.
What that something was, she had no idea, but she gack well was going to do something.
She had to, simple as that.
Chapter Eighteen
Skol stood before his master and bowed his head.
He’d be damned if he knelt like Blas had the moment he spied Alshan Ra. Ra’s disciples milled about, preparing their devices and concealing them with their robes. Skol felt a prick of uncertainty as he stood among a room filled with explosives, but he knew that, of all the things Alshan Ra might be, he was not suicidal.
If Skol was to die, it would not be because Alshan Ra ordered the detonation of the explosives there. No, were he to die, Skol had no doubt Alshan Ra would go about it in a different, more personal manner.
“You wished to speak to me, Master?” Skol asked as his master’s eyes roamed around the room, taking in his acolytes. Skol saw the glee plainly there. People would die today, many of them, and Alshan Ra was going to revel in their demise and give praise to Elerus for the bloodshed.
Alshan Ra turned his gaze on Skol. “I did indeed.” He raised a finger to belay any further comments, and the master turned to Blas. “Suit up and make ready to meet Elerus,” he told the man.
The disciple raised his head and stared wide-eyed at Alshan Ra, and Skol almost laughed at his shocked expression.