Marduk's Rebellion
Page 73
that.”
“But the woman on vid—?”
“A Sarcodinay, possibly Zaladin’s daughter Tirrea, who is about the right size. What happened was entirely an internal Sarcodinay matter. As far as the League is concerned, the war is over and done with, all the appropriate papers signed.”
“And as far as the Sarcodinay are concerned—?”
“I don’t really know. It’s complicated. The High Guard claim Tirris disqualified herself, and Kathanial signed the treaty a soon as he woke up from his injuries.” I still didn’t know how well Kathanial had recovered from those injuries. I was sure that Tirris Vahn was just fine.
That bitch was a survivor.
“I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later,” Alexander agreed. “In the meantime, Vanessa’s been worried sick—”
“I want to see him.”
He cocked his head. “Pardon?”
I stood up, looked at him in his pretty tawny eyes. “I want to see Zaladin’s body.”
Alexander paused. “What makes you think—?”
“No games, Alex. You are the best there is at genetics and xenobiology. Who else would the League have asked to look at his body? I need to see it.”
He stared at me, and I stared back and it seemed like the whole room, the whole island, held its breath.
“Follow me.” He turned around and walked out of the room.
ggg
The freezer units were located underground, and I shuddered at the quantity of them. I didn’t want to know if some of those halls led to other halls, if those halls led to more besides. Would the League bother to investigate how many might have died here? I’m sure Shana had likely destroyed most of the evidence, but what she hadn’t felt she needed to destroy boggled the mind.
Alexander led me to a randomly marked refrigerated drawer, identical in almost every respect to the rows upon rows around it. He opened the door, pulled out the slab and pulled back the silver cloth covering the body.
I felt like a widow at an MOJ morgue, come to identify her mate’s body.
He looked peaceful. I could almost think he was sleeping except for the bullet wound to his chest and the y-shaped sutured incision of the autopsy, already performed. His shaved hair did little to hide the circular incision around his skull where someone had removed the back of his head and examined his brain. I wondered if it was in a jar somewhere.
“Who did the autopsy?”
“I did. This is the bastard who killed Paul. You better believe I did it myself.”
I closed my eyes.
“Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes again, and when Alexander took a step back, I knew they must be silver. “I had to know he was really dead.” I stared at a Zaladin’s corpse. “I can still feel him, you see. I can still feel his mind, his thoughts, like he’s blocking himself from me, but he still feels like he’s here. I can still... I feel like if I reach out my fingers, I can touch him. He would smile back and take my hand. I can still—” A sound like a sob escaped me.
Alexander Rhodes folded me into his arms. “I know just how you feel. I miss Paul—”
We both cried. We both cried and held each other and mourned as best we could, both of us knowing the phantom pain would never fully heal.
ggg
The pirate ship was a retrofitted Sarcodinay Nova Class carrier, never designed to come in atmosphere or even come terrifically close to a significant gravity well, which is why the ship that came down to dock at FirstCity was a shuttle. The crowd that hung out around the hatch were a tough-looking groups covered with tattoos, all former strikers, people to messed with only by fools or those with even more hardened backgrounds.
A woman with coal black skin and almond eyes straightened and whistled low as she saw the approach of a stranger, a tall, broad-shouldered man with an admin caste and his frizzed hair only recently out of braids. He had a duffel bag over his shoulder and a suitcase carried in one hand. “Who’s in charge here?”
The woman turned her head and yelled, “Boss, somebody here for you!”
A tall man with tattered black hair and green eyes, dressed rather like someone playing dress-up as a pirate, came down the hatchway. He did a double-take as he saw the man, shook his head, then waved a hand at his crew. “It’s all right.” Jester jumped down the hatchway. “I don’t think we’ve met officially, but you’re Stewart Campbell, right? MOJ nark?” The crew started to look unfriendly again.
“Was,” Campbell corrected. “I quit. Need to find a new berth. Thought you might have room.”
Laughter, then. He’d told a good one.
Campbell cracked open the suitcase and showed what was inside. “I have an MEP suit, keyed to me. MOJ won’t miss it.”
The laughter stopped.
Captain Jester smiled. “We might have room for you at that. Campbell’s a bit clunky though. What say you—” He looked at his people. “Isobar?” He addressed the dark-sinned muscled woman.
“Mountain,” she suggested.
“Tower!” Someone else shouted out.
Captain Jester turned to a tan young man with pale platinum hair, in the process of cleaning a rifle. “Archangel?”
The young man looked up and studied Campbell. “No, none of those.” He went back to cleaning his gun.
The group waited expectantly, and then Isobar put an elbow into the young man’s back. He ducked, chuckling.
“Well?” Captain Jester said.
Gabriel locked stares with the Campbell. “Ghost.”
Campbell’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched.
He nodded.
Jester clapped the man on the shoulder. “Come on then, Ghost. Let’s get you tucked away. Good news though: I hear a civil war’s just broke out among the Sarcodinay, so we’re gonna be swimming in plenty of business.”
Together, they walked on board the shuttle.
About the Author
Jenn Lyons lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband Michael (also a writer,) three cats and a lot of opinions on anything from Sumerian creation myths to the correct way to make a martini. At various points in her life, she has wanted to be an archaeologist, anthropologist, architect, diamond cutter, fashion illustrator, graphic designer, or Batman. Turning from such obvious trades, she is now a video game producer by day, and spends her evenings writing science fiction and fantasy. When not writing, she can be found debating the Oxford comma and Joss Whedon’s oeuvre at various local coffee shops.
Her next novel, Blood Chimera, to be published by World Weaver Press in 2014, chronicles the experiences of a Kidnap & Ransom expert who discovers he is an unwitting member of a race of vampiric shapeshifters who secretly control society. She is currently working on the follow-up, Blood Sin.
Jenn Lyons is also putting the finishing touches on an epic fantasy novel, The Culling Fields, for release in early 2014.
For more information, visit www.jennlyons.com