Viktor sat back in his chair, and his image froze.
Kyra’s fists were clenched, as was her jaw. “Bastard,” she spat, and Tris had never heard such hatred in her tone. “Viktor thinks he can just waltz in here and take Esper back? He’s got no frikkin’ clue. I don’t know how he survived, or how the hell he got past the Ring, but I’m going to make him wish he hadn’t. No wonder Tarri called me! That asshole thinks he can steal my entire goddamn planet? Big mistake. He thinks we’re a soft target, just because we don’t have an army or a bunch of warships hanging around. He thinks all he has to deal with is a handful of City Guards and a few disgruntled citizens? Mistake number two. He’s not expecting me.”
“Ahhh… there’s a more recent message,” Issi said. “This one’s not on the newsfeeds.” She touched a control on her bracelet, and the screen unfroze. Viktor was in the same place, but the view behind him was slightly different.
“This is for Kyra,” he said, his words dripping scorn. “I’ve been expecting you.”
TWENTY-ONE
Viktor’s face loomed large on the viewscreen in front of them.
He leered into the camera, and Kyra shrank back involuntarily.
“I want something from you. You know what it is… and I would like you to bring it to me, at your earliest convenience. Meanwhile—” the image whirled as the camera spun, coming to rest on the terrified face of a blonde girl not much older than Tarri.
“This is Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess of Esper, in case you haven’t met.” Viktor panned the camera around, taking in the dishevelled state of the girl; her feet were bare, and she appeared to be wearing a nightdress. Her thin arms were wrapped around herself, though restraining cables dangled from her wrists. The image blurred once again, and Viktor’s scarred face filled the screen.
“Such a delicate child! I’m prepared to trade her for the Master Key. If you bring it to me, I’ll see that she is returned to her parents in more-or-less undamaged condition. If not… well, let’s just say I’ve got a lot of men here that would just love to make the acquaintance of a genuine princess. And who am I to deny them? Perks of the job and all that. So!” He fixed the camera with an evil stare. “I look forward to your visit.”
The screen cut to black.
The silence that enveloped the bridge was profound.
For about two seconds. Then Kyra sprang into motion, pacing back and forth with her fists clenching and unclenching. “That piece of shit!” she roared. “I’m going to cut him into so many pieces they’ll need a frikkin’ sponge to pick him up. Threatening the girl? Has he got any idea what I’m going to do to him for that? Thinks he’s a big man, does he? Well I know which bits I’m going cut off first!”
Tris watched her face, and decided not to interrupt. This was a side of Kyra he’d seen before, albeit not quite so unhinged. More rage lurked beneath her surface than anyone he’d ever known — and with good reason, it seemed. Viktor clearly knew how to push her buttons, and all Tris knew was that this was not a good time to be standing in her way.
Fortunately, Lukas didn’t seem to have any fear of disturbing her. “Master Key… is that what this is all about?”
Issi killed the screen and turned to face him. “It’s basically a doomsday device,” she said, including Tris with a glance. “It gives ultimate control of the Ring, so…” she shrugged, as though the disaster this described was self-evident.
Kyra stopped pacing, and came to stand with the rest of them. “How does he even know there is a Master Key?”
“Same way he knows you’re here,” Issi replied. “Laugarren. When we formed the council, Vinni told them about it. She was using it to spin up a fresh Ring section for them to use, so it made sense… but they never trusted us with it. The current commander was the worst so far. He demanded we take turns ‘looking after’ the key — as though he’d ever give it back! Can you imagine that psycho having access to it?” She shuddered. “I knew they were planning something. I just… I never thought they had outside help.”
Kyra spat a string of curses. “Frikkin’ Laugarrens! They invited him in? As soon as we get Tarri back I’m going to tear that city apart one brick at a time.”
Issi went stiff. “The princess? She’s here?”
“Not here,” Kyra flapped a hand. “There! We had to leave her in the hospital.”
“She’s hurt?”
“Injured in a crash. When those Laugarren sons of bitches shot down her shuttle! What the hell is going on here, Issi?”
Issi’s hands were in her hair now, in a gesture that reminded Tris so much of Kyra it was uncanny. “I don’t know. All we knew is, after years of grumbling and threats, Laugarren was finally planning an attack. There hasn’t been blood spilt between us since you left! Not properly. There’s been arguments at council, and then they left the council in a tantrum — that kind of thing! I knew something like this would happen, that’s why I built this place. Everyone said I was mad, but I knew we couldn’t trust those bastards. They just kept on building, walls and guns and walls and guns. Have you seen that place? It’s ridiculous!”
As Issi started to come undone, it spurred the opposite effect in Kyra. Suddenly she was calm again, her arms crossed and her face unreadable. “We’ll deal with the Lord High Commander when the time comes. But for now, we’ve got a bigger problem. We’ve got to get that girl back, and we’ve got to chop Viktor into fish-bait.” She put a steadying hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Issi… is there any way he could get the Master Key? Where is it?”
Issi made an effort to compose herself. She rearranged her hair, then tugged at her camo outfit to straighten it. “He can’t get the Key,” she said, and there was a note of defiance in her voice. “It was kept in a vault inside the palace, and two people had to open it together — a council member from our city, and one from Laugarren.”
“Was?” Kyra turned her sister to face her. “Viktor controls the city. A vault won’t stop him. And if Vinni’s still there, and mother, he’ll use the princess against them. There’s no way they’d let him hurt her. If the key’s in that vault, Viktor could have it already!”
A sly smile spread across Issi’s features. “Come with me,” she said, brushing Kyra’s hand away. “It’s time I introduced you to your brother-in-law.”
* * *
Issi’s private quarters were a mess. Actually, a mess would get hopelessly lost in here, Tris reflected — which was truly impressive, given the size of the place. Not much bigger than his old bedroom back in Bristol, the room certainly didn’t seem fit for a princess. A thick layer of detritus covered the floor; empty food containers, clothing, shoes, bits of tech that had been stripped for parts… there was no way of telling if there were deck plates or carpet under it all. The smell of several past meals warred for supremacy with a variety of sweet and musky scents trying to mask it all.
The walls were bare metal, and a minimal scatter of furniture took up the rest of the space; a single bed, on which black sheets were tangled into a ball, a closet which was open and in extreme disarray, and a desk that bristled with small boxes and tubes that could just as easily have been make-up or weaponry. Against the far wall sat a long, low couch — on which a scruffy middle-aged man with lank brown hair lay sprawled, his nose mere inches from his tablet.
Issi made sure the door was shut behind them, before she hissed at him. “Alek! Wake up.”
“Not sleeping, I’m busy,” he said, sounding more petulant than anything. He hadn’t even looked up when they’d come in, which struck Tris as strange.
“We have guests,” Issi said, stressing the word — and that piqued the man’s interest enough to tear him away from his tablet. He looked up at the group huddled in the doorway, and his eyes went wide.
“Ah, Kyra,” he jabbed a finger in her direction. “You’ve got to help me rescue my family!”
The look on Kyra’s face was bittersweet. “Hello, Alek. Long time no see.”
“Long time, yes,�
� he nodded emphatically. “You missed my wedding. And my coronation. And Jenna being born. And Tarri being born.” He frowned. “And all their birthdays. And them both coming of age. And when we launched the defence barges. And the diplomatic program. And the speech I made about taking our place in the galaxy.”
Kyra barely raised an eyebrow at this litany. No prize for guessing what I didn’t miss, she told Tris.
No kidding! So is this guy the king, then? He doesn’t look like a king. Or live like one.
Definitely not the king, she replied, but apparently he’s married to my older sister Vinni, our great and glorious queen. I don’t know which of them I feel more sorry for. As for the mess, I’ve a nasty feeling that it belongs to Issi. She was always a bit of a pig.
Proof of this came when Issi led them into the room, kicking stuff out of the way as she went like this was perfectly normal behaviour. Alek wrinkled his nose up at the smells she disturbed, and Tris closed his eyes against the barrage of odours. Kyra picked her way through more delicately, but stayed standing when her sister slumped down on the sofa next to Alek. Tris decided to split the difference, perching his backside on the edge of the desk.
Alek’s tablet had reclaimed his attention; whatever he was doing on it, he obviously considered it very important.
“What happened?” Kyra asked him. “How come you got out of the city when my sister stayed behind and got caught?”
He made an exasperated sound, then placed his tablet down carefully on a clean bit of sofa. “I’m on a secret mission to save the world.” He spoke slowly, with exaggerated pronunciation, like he was explaining something to a toddler. “We’re revolutionaries, just like you used to be. Only this time we’re fighting the commander of Laugarren. Well, Viktor too, but he came later.”
Issi put a hand out to shush him. It was clear from her expression that she thought any explanation he offered would only complicate things. “We got a message from mother just before they cut off all comms access,” she said. “That’s the only solid intel we’ve had since Viktor’s mercs took control of the place. Alek’s been trying to figure out a way to talk back to her ever since, but no joy so far.”
“Mother?” There was sudden hope in Kyra’s voice. “You still have the message?”
Issi snatched the tablet off Alek, earning herself a glare, then turned it around so they could all see the display. She browsed a menu and found the file she was looking for.
A burst of static filled the screen, and was replaced by a very dim view of what looked like a rocking chair. Shadows filled the foreground, while the background vanished into darkness.
“Is she in hiding?” Kyra hissed.
“No.” Pain showed on Issi’s face. “She’s lived like that for years. She says the light hurts her eyes, but…”
A frail old woman hobbled into frame, lowering herself into the rocking chair with obvious effort. Her hair was tied back in a messy grey bun, and deep lines on her face spoke of hardship and exhaustion.
“Is it on? Okay.” She looked into the camera, and the sorrow in her eyes was heartbreaking. “Issi, dear, I hope you get this. Thank Sydon you’re not here. Viktor’s back — I don’t know how, but I saw him with my own eyes. He came to visit me.” She paused for a shudder of disgust. “He had Jenna with him, and… Issi, he was going to hurt her! I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t let him. He wanted to know about the Master Key… I tried to play dumb, but…” she stopped again, her breath catching, and for a moment it looked like she would break down. Tris caught a flash of grief from Kyra — she clearly hadn’t been prepared for seeing her mother in such a poor state.
But the old woman rallied, wiping her eyes on a scrap of fabric and facing the camera again. “Viktor forced Vinni to show him the vault. They didn’t take me with them, but I was watching with the Gift when he made her go through all the security checks. They had Jenna, and one of the old councilmen from Laugarren with them, and Vinni had no choice but to open the vault. But it was empty! She was more shocked than Viktor was. He was furious… I thought he was going to murder the rest of my family right before my eyes.” She was weeping now, but carried on talking through the tears. “I’ve never seen so much hatred in a person. They’ve just started broadcasting a message about keeping the peace, and he’s left poor Vinni pretending that she’s still in charge of the council. I don’t know what he’s done with the girls, but I’m terrified for them. I haven’t touched Tarri’s mind since the night of the attack, and Viktor’s dragged Jenna off to who knows where. If you see Alek, please keep him safe! If we get out of this, they’ll need their father. And please take care of yourself, Issi! I know we don’t always get on, but you’re so important to me. I love you so, so much.” She was crying too hard to carry on by this point, and her image froze, then faded to black.
Tris hardly dared look at Kyra. The welter of emotions he felt from her — anguish, guilt and despair — were overwhelming enough without seeing them reflected in her eyes.
Lukas had been watching from just inside the doorway; he chose to remain silent, too.
Alek, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to the tension in the air. “I’ve got some footage of my wedding on here, too — the bits they didn’t air on the newsfeeds. It was really big—” he stopped, confused, when Issi glared at him so fiercely that any normal person would have shit themselves. “Oh, ah… maybe later, then?”
“I’m sorry, sis.” Issi’s voice was a whisper. “I should have warned you. Mum was never the same since Daysi… well. She started refusing anti-aging meds a long time ago. She said she was ready to die. She doesn’t get out much, and… I don’t know what to do. I never did. I miss her.”
It took Kyra a good few moments, but she gradually recovered from the shock. She’d been through a lot, just in the short time Tris had known her; she was nothing if not resilient.
Actually, broken is a more accurate term. And I’m starting to understand why.
Coming home hadn’t been all hugs and rainbows for Kyra — pretty much the polar opposite. That didn’t fully explain why she hadn’t come back before, but he was beginning to appreciate how much pain was buried in her past. And how much more there’s going to be, if we don’t figure out what’s going on, and find a way to stop it.
He glanced at Kyra, and decided to risk a friendly nudge. “It was nice to see your mother,” he said. “She looks kind.” He offered her a smile. “I bet she bakes great cookies.”
By the time Kyra looked up at him, the cynicism was coming back into her eyes. “She does not bake. She was the Queen of Esper once, and she could have cut you in half without even trying.”
Tris shook his head in mock despair. “What is it with your family and cutting people in half? Don’t you have any normal hobbies?”
That cleared the air a bit — psychically, though not in terms of smell. Alek snatched his tablet back, and Kyra ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, here’s where we’re at,” she said. “Viktor is here, on this planet, and he’s taken Princess Jenna hostage. And if he’s all over Laugarren then he’ll get Tarri, too. Assuming she survives her injuries.”
Alek sat up straight at that, creating a miniature tsunami in the crap on the floor. “Tarri’s hurt? What happened to her?” He was wearing more normal clothes, Tris noticed — a long-sleeved top and pants in royal blue, stained and rumpled as though he’d been sleeping in them.
“Lord-Commander-Arsehole blew her ship out of the sky,” Kyra told him. “She’s recovering in whatever dung-heap passes for medical facilities in Laugarren. But that won’t last long, once Viktor realises she’s there.”
Alek’s face was falling further and further, and Tris realised he had a human side after all. That’s his daughter we’re talking about. Both of them, actually… one being held by Viktor, and one about to be. That can’t be easy to cope with.
Kyra seemed to remember that at the same time, and her tone softened. “Look, I’m going to get them back,” she promised. “Bo
th of them. But we’ve got bigger problems. Viktor is desperate to get his hands on the Master Key. That thing is like a nuclear reactor waiting to go critical on us. We have to figure out where the hell it is, before he sends his whole damn army after it.”
Alek beamed a smile, and it was like the terrible news from five seconds earlier had been completely washed from his mind. He stuffed a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small sliver of metal no bigger than a stick of gum. “You mean this Master Key?” he said.
TWENTY-TWO
Kyra stared at the piece of metal like it was about to bite her.
Then she swooped in and grabbed it, kicking aside several piles of crap in the process. “This is it!” She pressed the device against her middle finger, and it wrapped around it to form a ring. “How did you steal it?”
Alek looked mildly offended by that suggestion. “I didn’t steal anything. I’m on the council. I represent Laugarren. Issi represents Lehen.” He seemed to think that was the only explanation required.
“You could open the safe between you,” Kyra said, catching on. She shook her head in disbelief. “Bold move. Just out of interest, what is the penalty for treason these days?”
Issi held out her hand for the key. “We can’t use it,” she pointed out. “Vinni’s imprint is still on there. She’s the only one who can activate it.”
Kyra peeled the ring off her finger and inspected the result; a flat, unadorned strip of metal that looked like nothing at all. It could have been a shard of debris, or the pull-tab from a food container.
Embers of Esper: A Sci Fi Adventure (Warden's Legacy Book 1) Page 17