Vendel Rising Omnibus

by L A Warren

  She had finally found her way off the Confinement Deck. The first boulder fell.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gambit, Day 123

  "Good morning. How do you feel?" The High Tender's booming voice made Elise wince.

  She opened her eyes to find the High Tender staring at her from the foot of her bed. "My head hurts, but it isn't as bad as before."

  He nodded. "Good." He sat at the foot of her bed.

  Elise pulled her feet back. She didn't want to touch him. Grasping her pillow, she used it as a shield. She waited while the High Tender made himself comfortable.

  "You've surprised me."

  That wasn't what she expected. "How?"

  He gave her a level look. "You recovered from the Activator in record time. Which means you're currently the only conscious WOR. I'm at a loss with what to do with you." He furrowed his brows in thought. "Emperor vlor'Malita has suggested using this time to begin acclimatizing you to the rest of the ship. I have some concerns about this." He levelled a knowing glance at her, which made her blush.

  Elise's heart lifted at the thought of being given access to the ship. It was exactly what she needed.

  "So, I have the problem of what to do with you until the others complete the process of activation."

  "High Tender, please, what is this process? What are you doing to us?" She grabbed at the pillow for support, fearing the unknown.

  He regarded her for too long, but finally he seemed to come to a decision because he stood and began pacing. "The emperor showed you the WOR-space?"

  She nodded.

  "He mentioned the WOR-drive, then?"

  She shook her head. "No."

  His lips twisted, and he settled into what she'd come to learn was his lecturing tone. "The WOR-skill is integral to our drive systems. And Women of the First Rank run the WOR-drive. There are many more First Rank WOR than any of the other ranks. Women of the Fifth Rank are exceedingly rare. To have found ninety-two on one planet is unheard of."

  He watched her closely, as if waiting for her to process this information. She struggled to fit the pieces together.

  "What do these women have to do with running interstellar drives?"

  "You tell me."

  He was leading her down a definite path. Only she had no idea how the two fit together. "Does it have something to do with the neural interfaces in the am-net. Something unique to a WOR?" She arched her brow. "I honestly have no idea."

  He gave her a look, as if she had missed something obvious.

  Her head hurt too much to piece it together and she put the pillow in her lap, exasperated with his game.

  "I'm sorry, but I just don't see how an interstellar drive is something I, or any other woman from Earth, can help with. We barely know how to work the most basic of your devices."

  "Let's try this differently. Do you believe in psychic abilities?" He crossed his arms and watched her closely.

  "No."

  She hesitated when he continued his stare, lifting a brow. He couldn't be serious? But the look on his face said otherwise.

  She took a breath. A fluttering began in her belly. Surely, they were mad. "You're telling me, the WOR-skill is a psychic ability?"

  "Yes and no." He pointed at her head, making a swirling motion. "Inside your genetic code is a very rare set of genes. When activated, certain changes occur within your body. Mostly within your brain."

  She gave a nod. "Gregor mentioned turning me into a weapon. But can we back up?"

  "Back up?"

  "Yes, I want to know about the Vector. It started it all. Why the deaths? Why did it have to kill everyone?"

  "It killed those without the minimum number of WOR-genes to survive. An unfortunate side effect."

  She gathered her legs in her arms. "What percentage survived?"

  "That's not relevant."

  Her eyes moistened with tears. Her grandfather, nieces, brother-in-law, and everyone else were unfortunate side effects?

  "It's relevant to me. My nieces might still be alive."

  "If they are, they are no longer your concern."

  "If I had enough genes to become WOR, and they share some of mine, doesn't that mean they might have survived?"

  His head shook. "I understand your nieces were young. They likely did not." He stood silently while she processed this, watching her final round of grief.

  She wiped her tear-streaked face on the pillow and whispered, "So, the Vendel came to Earth to find women with these genes, to turn us into Women of Rank, and practice psychic abilities for the empire?"

  He snorted. "In the simplest of terms, that's correct."

  She lifted her head as the pieces fit together. "If the First Rank operates your drive engines, what does a Fifth Rank do?"

  "You will do much, much more."

  "Gregor mentioned weapons. What kind of weapon am I supposed to be?"

  "A very powerful one, we hope. So, now I must decide what to do with you while the others recuperate. Do I give you to the Emperor? Or, do I keep you busy here on your studies?"

  "Shouldn't I feel different?"

  "You will, but the collar around your neck inhibits your ability to touch the WOR-skill. Once we're done matching compatible lords to the other s'lor and s'vlor, we'll begin training in WOR-skill."

  Her necklace was a collar. She swallowed against a sudden constriction in her throat. It had seemed like such a pretty piece of jewelry, a long, delicate chain.

  "And Gregor is compatible?"

  "I have no doubt your compatibility will exceed the required threshold. With this new phase of training, you'll be spending much more time with him as he trains you through each skill level."

  She glanced up. "Do I have a say in what I do while the others recover?"

  "Do you have a preference?"

  "I don't want to be here while they…well, I'd rather not have to see or hear…" She didn't want to be around to watch any of them die. "If there's nothing to do here other than study, I'd rather spend my time learning about my new home." She wanted off the damn Confinement Deck so she could start working on her escape plan.

  "I don't have the time to chaperone you. You'll be alone with him." He eyed her dubiously.

  She made a point of swallowing before answering. "If I'm to be living in his shadow, I might as well start by learning to tolerate his presence."

  His eyes glittered with caution. "You seem to tolerate him just fine. That's not what I'm worried about."

  She flushed with embarrassment. "That was…well, it was confu—"

  He held up a hand and stopped her from saying more. "I want to be clear. Sexual promiscuity is not acceptable in our society. I expect you to remember this and behave accordingly when you are out and about. A few kisses might mean nothing to you, but for our people to see the Emperor engaged in such behavior, especially with his s'vlor, is…well, make sure it does not happen."

  Elise blinked. "You can't possibly put that on my shoulders." She stared him down, but now that he mentioned it, a little sexual promiscuity sounded like a perfect wedge to put between these two men. "So, what are you going to do with me?"

  "As much as I dislike the idea, I need him to watch over you, and I do not think it is a good idea for you to remain here."

  Perfect!

  "Come, let's get you ready."

  "Now?"

  "Yes."

  This was a surprise. High Tender Marcus helped her into a new gown. Layers of gauzy white fabric drifted down to settle just above her ankles.

  "Did Gregor pick out this gown?" It wasn't the typical green or red.

  "No. He's been busy." He handed her the five gold bands designating her Rank. "Put these on."

  She fingered the collar around her neck. "Does this thing control me like the braklav? Will Gregor use it to give me pain?"

  "No, it cannot hurt you. It allows him to guide your use of the WOR-skill, to teach you until you can be properly bound to him. Do not worry about the collar. It is not p
ermanent, and it is not like the braklav."

  Elise smoothed the fabric of the gown. High Tender Marcus stepped behind her and tied the back laces of the corset. The white fabric floated around her in a cloud.

  She placed her hand to the palm plate at the base of the stairs and paused to check on her little ghost. Bobo was there, quiescent, waiting for a command. A fleeting sense of accomplishment and a new optimism flooded her heart. At the counter before the double glass doors leading out of the Confinement Deck she checked again. Her palm rested on the gel and Bobo waited.

  The High Tender coughed. "Are you feeling up to this?" Concern lined the features of his face at her hesitation.

  Elise removed her hand from the gel. "Sorry, yes. I'm fine. The bio-gel feels funny that's all. I still can't get used to goo that slides over your hands. I apologize for being distracted."

  "Professor Marzak mentioned you had a lot of questions about the devices."

  "I've been trying hard to learn." It was the truth.

  Professor Marzak was the technology instructor whose job was to teach about Vendel technology. Educating grown women how to operate the simplest of devices was not as thrilling as it may have seemed to the genius professor. The bragging rights of his position were his only reward, and—as she had learned over a lifetime of study—a star pupil on whom to dote. She worked hard to become that student.

  The suspicious look in the High Tender's eyes made her pause.

  "I've always been good with computers. Or at least, I used to be." With effort, she raised her gaze to meet his. "Your systems are not that different from what I'm used to. I've found quite a few parallels."

  "Professor Marzak said you’re a fast learner. Keep to your studies, and I'm sure you will begin to feel quite at home."

  That was exactly her intention.

  For the second time, she found herself free of the Confinement Deck. With the High Tender, unlike Gregor, it was easy to focus on the world outside her prison. She inventoried everything and filed it all away for future use.

  Despite her earlier capitulation to Gregor, she focused on the positives. She had an alternate way off the Confinement Deck and secured a backdoor through the access panels which would allow her freedom of movement. Next step was to find a way off the Gambit.

  Her mountain was finally beginning to crumble. One boulder at a time. Persistence and perseverance were the tools she needed. And faith in herself. She'd nearly lost that last crucial piece.

  She renewed her vow to free herself and her fellow WOR captives. And while she was at it, why not help those Earth survivors who struggled in the wreckage of her world?

  She would learn. She would train. And she would be victorious. But first, she would become the perfect student and deceive them all. The Vendel had no idea what they’d unleashed.

  Part Two

  Chapter Fourteen

  New Terra Histories by Malita s’Lissa s’vlor

  June 22, 2136

  It is through the WOR-skill that the Vendel shaped the world around them. I never understood why men, and not women, taught those new to its power.

  Such stringent rules and protocols? Oddball training sessions and these arbitrary levels of skill? It all just got in the way. They crippled hundreds of women and delayed my mastery by months; many painful months, tortuous times which I will not dwell on here. I should call them sun cycles, but even now I cling to my Earth ways.

  When it came to learning the WOR-skill, I was slow to learn, something which bothered Gregor and High Tender Marcus to no end, considering I was a genius in every other thing.

  I would have enjoyed learning about my abilities so much more if they hadn’t resorted to alternate techniques to train me. But if they hadn’t, my sisters would never have been born, and I would have truly gone mad rather than simply insane.

  My fellow captives were brought forward in stages with gentle guiding hands. One tender step at a time, their vlor’lords led them through Bar, Rod, and Wheel skills, nudging them along the way.

  Not me.

  High Tender Marcus yanked me along, screaming from the inside out, until I was abraded and raw. But what can you say to a blind man trying to teach the sighted to see? The Tenders understood the taste and texture of the WOR-skill, but the colors…oh the colors…

  These men were fools.

  They didn’t know the power and depth of the beauty I saw.

  They wanted a weapon, but I would become so much more.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gambit, Day 123

  One hundred and twenty-three days. It had been four months since Elise’s capture by the Vendel. In that time, everyone she knew had died. In some strange twist of fate, the new friend she’d made at a charity walk had survived the Vector which had killed Earth’s population. Like Elise, Alice had been tested and brought on board The Gambit, but it had been months before they’d been reunited.

  They talked every day, supporting each other through the brutality of the Vendel. Not with words, but through the secret tapping code Elise had modified from an old Earth prisoner camp code devised by the inmates. Like those tortured men, Elise and the other survivors clung to the secret code and lent emotional support to one another. Forbidden speech, they had nonetheless found a way to communicate. Everything had settled into a monotonous routine. They’d begun to forget the Vendel were the enemy, but then came Activation.

  Like the Vector which killed those who didn’t have the required genes to survive, the Activator turned those genes on, but it too came with a price. One in ten, Gregor had said, wouldn’t survive.

  That final cost had yet to be paid. As with the Vector, Elise suffered few aftereffects. She had been the first to awaken after Activation, and it would be many days before the others woke, if they woke at all. This left High Tender Marcus with a dilemma, as he couldn’t supervise her while also tending to the rest. In another twist of fate, Elise found herself released from the Confinement Deck and delivered into Gregor’s hands. Her exploration of the world outside that horrid place helped her heal, but it also spurred her determination to find a way to escape.

  Where her previous trip off the Confinement Deck with Gregor had been an easy stroll, High Tender Marcus dragged her through the Gambit's torus at a fast trot.

  Her body ached from the after effects of Activation. A throbbing pulse in her temples felt as if the High Tender’s braklav still wedged itself at the base of her skull. She hurried beside him, afraid of the dark scowls he tossed in her direction, and the threat of more pain from the braklav if she failed to keep up.

  She hustled beside the High Tender, struggling to keep pace, until they reached a lift-tube. There, he had them stop, waiting for the door to open. He drew her inside where she shamelessly huddled beside him. Any moment and the floor would drop away to nothingness. Unlike Gregor, High Tender Marcus provided no reassurance and forced her to endure the fear of floating on an invisible pancake of air alone.

  He rattled off commands and they rode the solid currents upward. Another ten-minute half-walk half-jog and he shoved her inside a pod-like vehicle with windows staring out into a featureless gray void. A second terrifying lift-tube ride left her shaking. Instead of stopping inside the long tube, they rose to the very top where the ceiling spiraled open. The invisible force field of air carried them up another few feet until the ceiling closed beneath them, forming a floor. They had arrived in the center of a massive domed space filled with dozens of men who spoke in muted whispers; although with the pounding in her head, they might as well have been screaming.

  She was well on her way to having the mother of all migraines. The overhead lights had her blinking in pain and she squinted against the glare. A raucous scraping noise grated against her ears and covering them only made things worse. Blinking against the too bright light, she glanced around at her new surroundings.

  She and the High Tender stood at the center of the concentric rings of consoles. Men in gray and white uniforms stared at them. Thei
r conversations stopped, but they picked up again with a fast-paced urgency. Glowing holographs hung over the men’s workstations, drawing her eyes as much as theirs. She wanted to crawl into a dark hole and cover her head to hide from the light and noise, but High Tender Marcus cupped her elbow and drew her off the lift-tube platform and directly into the busy space.

  Angular stripes decorated the sleeves of most of the men's uniforms. A few had silver stars adorning their collars—those wearing them turned penetrating stares her direction and paused the longest from their work to stare upon her.

  The High Tender pulled her through and past the concentric rings to the far side of the room. The air vibrated with an unexplained tension. She’d felt something similar on trips to Global Corps Headquarters, the one time she’d interviewed for the Jupiter Launch Mission. This was a place where things happened. It had to be the Gambit's bridge.

  Something bad was at play. It carried itself in the way the men moved, even those who sat still. A sense of desperation lurked in the tight creases at the corners of their eyes and hovered in their pinched expressions. Even the depths of their frowns generated despair.

  Not one smile graced their features. No one joked or laughed. Gregor had said their very survival was at risk. The very air reeked of the understated terror of it. Whatever it was.

  High Tender Marcus moved her past a large hologram. A multicolored spaghetti array of glittering lights crisscrossed the display. A vast network of intersecting lines connected twenty-one glowing spheres of light. Hundreds of smaller lights littered the field. Several of those, and one of the spheres, had gone dim.

  Twenty-one planets in the Vendel empire had to match the twenty-one spheres of light.

  One light dim?

  From her studies, she’d learned about colony ships, or C-ships. Ten of those had gone silent. Gregor said she should fear annihilation. He didn’t say the Vendel risked losing a war. Exactly what kind of weapon did he think she would become to fight against an enemy capable of taking out a planet?