by Roxie Ray
She sighed fussily, pushing past me and entering the room. “I didn't come here to follow up regarding your health, you silly girl – though I'm delighted to learn that my ministrations were effective. Dhimurs asked that I deliver this to you. Mind you, this palace is positively teeming with actual servants who have nothing better to do than attend to such errands, but did he ask one of them? Of course not. Why do that, when one can choose to drag a healer away from far more important tasks instead?”
I opened my mouth to apologize, but she waved a hand at me before I could. “Oh, don't bother, my dear. I know it's not your fault. It's just irritating to be taken for granted, that's all.” She opened the box, revealing a tiny metal disc resting on a silk cushion. “Besides, given the dangers that you might be facing out there in space, a universal translator will certainly come in handy. Now please, have a seat. This may sting a bit.”
Before I knew what was happening, Khim was guiding me to the bed and gently shoving me into a seated position. Then she carefully lifted the metal disc between her thumb and forefinger – and it sprouted six multi-jointed legs, quickly crawling from her hand to the area behind my ear. Sure enough, there was a brief flare of pain that made me cry out, and the nauseating feeling of the thing skittering under my flesh.
Then it was still, and the pain disappeared.
“Well?” Khim asked, folding her arms over her chest. “Did it work? Are you able to understand me?”
“Of course,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn't I? I speak Valkredian… I've understood you all along.”
She smirked triumphantly. “Yes, but I'm currently speaking in the Mana dialect.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Amazing! I didn't know you spoke Mana.”
“There's a lot people don't know about me, girl,” Khim chuckled, closing the box and stowing it away in a hidden pocket. “Before I was the palace healer, I was a medic on the front lines of the war. There were many times when injured Mana required my skills. I had to learn as much of their language as possible, so I could identify what was wrong with them and attend to it properly.”
“But weren't the Mana your enemies?”
Khim shrugged. “Warriors make war. Healers heal, regardless of the race or affiliation of those in need.”
“That's a very enlightened perspective,” I said admiringly.
“That's kind of you to say. A lot of Valkredian generals – including Dhimurs, I might add – didn't share your point of view. Now I have many other matters to tend to, so I can't believe I'm asking this, but: Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Do you know where I can get weapons?” I inquired. “Armor? I'm quite certain those will come in handy as well.”
She laughed. “Imagine asking a healer something like that! I'm sure there will be plenty of those types of items on the ship for you to choose from. No doubt Dhimurs can assist you with your selection. I hope all goes well for you, my dear, and that you're successful in rescuing your parents. Torqa's a nasty piece of work, to be sure. I wouldn't want to leave anyone to her tender mercies for too long.”
And with that, Khim left, closing the door behind her.
I reached behind my ear, feeling the slight bump of the translator there and remembering the Mana wearing control collars on Torqa's ship. Yes, this device would definitely be useful when up against an army composed of slaves and mercenaries from many different worlds.
Another knock at the door. This time, I was sure it was Dhimurs – and I was right. When he saw what I was wearing, he grimaced. “You still haven't changed out of your shawl.”
“Sorry. Khim came in with the translator, and I got distracted.” I tossed the shawl on the bed, went to the closet, and selected a lightweight coat. Then I pulled it on, pin-wheeling my arms to ensure that my range of motion wouldn't be limited. It wasn't.
I twirled around in it while Dhimurs watched. “Well?” I asked with a grin. “How does it look?”
If he found this amusing (or alluring), he gave no sign – which shouldn't have surprised me. If anything, though, he actually seemed vaguely embarrassed by the question. “If you are referring to earlier, when I kissed you…” he began uncomfortably.
“I wasn't,” I interjected quickly. “I was just making a joke. A bad one. I apologize. There's no need for us to talk about that.”
“Good,” he said with a nod. “Now let us depart. Follow me.”
I didn't know whether to be relieved that we didn't have to discuss the kiss or offended. Was it so meaningless to him that he could just brush it aside and pretend it never happened?
I went down the stairs with him, and we found Surge waiting for us at the bottom.
“Has our ship been prepared?” Dhimurs asked.
Surge nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Excellent. Which vessel has been assigned to us? The Nightmare? The Dreadfang?”
“Not quite,” Surge told him. “It's docked right outside.”
We followed him out to the tarmac. When Dhimurs saw what was waiting for us, his eyes widened in disbelief.
“Does Akzun know about this?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Most definitely. In fact, he insisted.”
It was the Angel's Wrath, the majestic flagship of the Valkredian fleet. Long, cone-shaped like the tooth of a predator, its thick ivory hull carved with inscriptions of praise for the military might of Valkred. I had seen it before, when the Blood Ruler and his entourage had made diplomatic visits to Macur. Every time I had marveled at it, quietly fantasizing about what it might be like to climb aboard and visit the stars. Now I would finally have my chance.
From the look on Dhimurs' face, he'd harbored his own private fantasies about the ship as well. When he saw that I was looking at him, he explained: “I've been on this ship many times before, but I never thought I'd actually command it someday. Akzun, of course… as Blood Ruler, it's his prerogative. And Zark had his chance, since he's Akzun's brother and most high-ranking advisor. But to hand it over to a general like me…”
“Seemed like the wisest course of action, especially given the circumstances.” Akzun's voice traveled across the tarmac as he approached us, accompanied by Zark. “Dhimurs, you are, without a doubt, the finest, bravest, most accomplished soldier in the ranks of the Valkredian military. You have proved your worth hundreds of times over. I can think of no one more worthy of this vessel than you.”
“Thank you, Blood Ruler.” Dhimurs was clearly very touched by the sentiment, though he was doing his best to remain stoic.
“Besides,” Zark chimed in, “you'll need the Wrath if you're going to have a hope in hell of surviving an encounter with that monster of a ship Torqa's got. Especially if they're outfitted with a cloaking device.”
“I still don't understand how they were able to implement that,” Dhimurs said, frustrated. “Even with the basic design specs installed, what kind of power source would be able to generate the energy it would take to run it? Our scientists have experimented with atom-splitting reactors, miniature black holes, even supercolliders built to generate infinite amounts of dark matter… but so far, nothing's worked.”
“I believe there's someone who might be able to shed some light on that,” Akzun said with a strange smile. “He's waiting for you on board, along with Thezis and Vahmi. But for now, you should get going. There's no time to lose.”
“Very well.” Dhimurs saluted, then started up the ramp, gesturing for me to accompany him. Surge followed close behind, and once we were all aboard, the ramp retracted.
Dhimurs led us to the command deck, a huge oval chamber with a view screen and several stations equipped with control panels. Sure enough, Thezis was there, standing at attention despite his damaged leg. The one called Vahmi was shorter than most Valkredians I'd seen, with a lithe frame and oddly elfin features that lent him a mischievous air.
“It's a great honor to serve with all of you,” Dhimurs announced, lacing his fingers b
ehind his back and squaring his shoulders. “We have all faced many threats together over the years, but none so dangerous as Torqa. We're in for the fight of our lives, gentlemen, so prepare yourselves accordingly. Surge will, of course, act as my second in command during this mission. Thezis, you will be our tactical officer. Vahmi, you are our pilot and navigator.”
“And do you have a task in mind for me as well, Captain Dhimurs?” a rich, deep voice asked from behind us.
I turned to look – and couldn't believe my eyes.
It was a Lunian.
I had never seen one in person before, but there he was, as big as life. He was taller than any of us, with glowing skin and flowing white robes. His eyes were as dark as space itself, with pinpricks of celestial light dancing in them. Around his neck, he wore an amulet identical to Miranda's.
As I stood in wonder and amazement at his very presence, Dhimurs took a step toward him – and punched him in the mouth, knocking him to the floor.
8
Dhimurs
Rage coursed through my veins like boiling acid at the very sight of that smug, glowing face.
“Dhimurs, what are you doing?” Judy exclaimed, horrified. “That's a Lunian, for God's sake!”
“That's not just any Lunian,” I growled through clenched teeth. “It's Respen.”
“I'm pleased you remember me,” Respen replied serenely, rising from the floor and dusting himself off. “Though this hardly seems like a proper display of gratitude, given the assistance I offered you when last we met.”
“You call that ‘assistance,’ you moon-faced bag of excrement?” I roared. “You were the one who told me to enlist the aid of the Macurians against Torqa and her people!”
“Did I?” Respen asked, tilting his head to one side. “Funny, I don't remember telling you to do anything of the sort. I merely showed you one possible solution to your problem, since at the time, you seemed unable to arrive at one yourself.”
“But you didn't show me what the outcome would be! Because of you, the Macurians were wiped out!”
“Again, I must disagree with you. Torqa is the reason the Macurians were murdered, because she was the one who murdered them. In all the millennia of my existence, I have never taken the life of another being. Also, the fact that you failed to consider the consequences of drawing them into your war was your error, not mine. After all, you are a lifelong military man, are you not? Well-versed in tactics, strategies, countermeasures… in short, thinking several steps ahead at all times? If you were too eager for an easy answer to carefully consider the probable results of your actions, that was likewise your mistake.”
I advanced on Respen with my hands balled into fists, ready to pummel him. How dare he blame me for what happened to the Macurians, when he was so clearly responsible, at least in part?
But he put up a long-fingered hand to stop me, his expression darkening. “I allowed you to strike me once, Valkredian, because you felt you deserved it. However, I must warn you that any further violence visited upon me will be answered in kind. I told you I have never taken a life, and that is true. That does not mean I am unwilling to visit grievous harm upon others when provoked. Besides, you have far more important matters at hand. The more time you waste barking at me, the longer Judy's parents remain in Torqa's custody.”
My feelings twisted and turned within me violently. I wanted to keep yelling at Respen, to keep hitting him – to keep blaming him. Deep down, my own guilt prodded at me mercilessly, insisting that I was the true reason why so few Macurians had been left alive. He was right; although he had made the suggestion, it had ultimately been my decision to make. But for him not to accept any responsibility was too far; anger and guilt coursed through my veins like magma, looking for a release.
“He's right, Dhimurs,” Judy said. “Besides, Akzun told us he was here to help.”
“How do I know you can be trusted?” I snarled at the Lunian.
Respen spread his arms expansively. “How can you be certain that your home world will exist tomorrow, and the day after that, when a single solar flare from your system's sun could suddenly reach out and extinguish it with no warning? The answer, of course, is that you do not. But it is far easier and more sensible for you to continue to labor under this belief, so you do.”
I flopped down in the command chair with an angry sigh. “I hate Lunians. I hate your rhetorical questions, your absurd philosophical double-talk, and how damnably calm you are when you discuss the fates of entire worlds, as though they're nothing more than pieces on a game board.”
“Yes,” Respen replied, “but what you hate about us the most is that our power far exceeds your own, and that it comes from the simple pursuit of wisdom, rather than military might.”
What could I say? I loathed to admit it, even to myself, but he was right. I'd dedicated my entire life to being the strongest, the fastest, the toughest, the best-equipped warrior I could be. I'd won more battles than most Valkredians would ever fight. I was proficient in every damn weapon we had, and held a high ranking in almost every form of martial art practiced in the galaxy.
But next to Respen, all my fury felt like nothing more than the flickering of a candle wick. With a single breath, the sorcerer could snuff me out if he so desired. As could many other members of his race.
And for all of my posturing and wounded pride, Judy would be no closer to rescuing her parents.
“All right,” I grudgingly agreed. “Vahmi, set a course for Kenexa at maximum speed, and start configuring our shield generators to withstand the plasma storms in that system.”
“I'll try,” Vahmi said, taking his place at the navigation console, “but those storms can be fierce – they're why most vessels stay out of that sector. If we take a direct hit from one, and it's big enough…”
“I'm confident that you'll do your best, Vahmi. Get to work on it at once.” I turned to Thezis. “I trust Zark uploaded all the information he could recall regarding the configuration of Torqa's ship into the Wrath's computer? Plus everything we could glean from the data found in the escape pod?”
Thezis nodded with a grunt. He'd never been much for talking – it was one of the things I'd always admired most about him as a soldier. More often than not, he let his actions speak for him.
“Good. Do what you can to determine whether there are any structural weaknesses we can exploit. I know the odds are slim, but…”
Thezis held up a hand to silence me, already turning to his console and starting on the analysis.
“What can I do?” Judy asked, hopeful and expectant.
“You can find quarters that suit you and get some rest.”
She balked. “But I don't need to rest! I need to be here on the command deck, helping you get my parents back and figuring out how to defeat Torqa!”
I put my hands on her shoulders, feeling a tingle that was almost electric just from touching her. Once more, the memory of the kiss flitted across my mind, and I tried to dismiss it. “You will. But you haven't had any sleep in days. I don't want you fighting Torqa's people while you're fighting your own fatigue at the same time. Now go lie down, and don't worry – I won't let anything exciting happen without you.”
For a moment, I was sure she'd continue to argue. Instead, she gave me a weary smile, nodded, and walked off the command deck. I watched her until the doors had closed behind her, fiercely shutting down the part of me that wanted to follow.
I turned to the others. “I didn't necessarily want to point this out in front of her…” I began.
“…but we're almost certainly walking directly into a trap,” Surge finished for me.
“Precisely.”
“A trap? What makes you think that?” Vahmi asked.
“The fact that our technicians were able to decode the data in the escape pod in a matter of hours,” I answered. “It was too easy. Torqa wouldn't build a vessel that technologically advanced just to leave such vital information easily accessible by anyone who might recover a
piece of it. And why would she choose such a remote and dangerous destination with no strategic value, unless she wanted to separate us from the rest of the Valkredian fleet and pick us off?
“If I were her, and I possessed a weapon like the Dezmodon – one that could make itself invisible and undetectable to all conventional scanning tech – I'd be rampaging across the Valkred and Mana systems, choosing random targets to keep my enemies off-balance and inflicting as much damage as possible. I'd make sure the entire galaxy knew what I was capable of, to break their spirits and persuade them to surrender. So why keep it a secret? Why keep her distance? No, she's up to something, of that I'm certain. Some longer game.”
“I believe I might be able to shed some light on that, actually,” Respen offered. “As a matter of fact, I'm fairly certain the answers you seek are closely related to the power source she hopes to harness for her ship's cloaking device.”
“Oh?” I sneered. “Then by all means, share this information with us. And this time, do try to be comprehensive. If I find out later that you've purposefully kept anything from us, I won't be in the mood for your semantic arguments. I'll be in the mood for your blood.”
Respen raised an eyebrow at me. “Somehow, I doubt you would find it palatable. As you've said, the stolen technology Torqa has been experimenting with requires a near-infinite source of energy to operate… far more than could be generated by any device ever invented. As such, she has opted for a more metaphysical solution to her problem.”
“Speak more plainly, glow worm,” I snapped. “I'm losing patience.”
“My point exactly,” he went on calmly. “She has enlisted the aid of one whose patience extends far beyond yours, to the point where he can tap into the limitless energies of time, space, and the universal core itself.”
My jaw dropped as I finally understood what he meant. “A Lunian. You're telling me she has a Lunian working with her.”
“I'm afraid so. Originally, she had intended to harness the stolen Grimoire of Gaussanak to power the cloaking device, once she'd had a chance to steal the data from the Mana. But since that tome was wrested from her grip by Zark and Miranda, she decided it would be more expedient to recruit a Lunian to her cause. Not all the members of my race are as benign as I am, after all.”