"Abdiel killed her. Through her mind. God knows what horrible vision he made the poor wretch see, what torment he inflicted on her at the end."
Daniel felt suddenly sick and faint. He swayed where he stood.
"Take it easy, Brother. Sit down. Put your head between your knees," Agis advised, catching hold of the priest before he fell over.
"I'm sorry. I don't know . . . what's the matter with me," Daniel gasped. "I've seen men . . . blown apart ..."
"It hits you like that sometimes," said Maigrey. "The stress, tension. Take a few deep breaths."
She and Agis turned back to study the body. "There's one way to find out for certain."
Maigrey knelt down, took hold of the dead hand, and turned the palm up to face the light. Daniel leaned his head weakly against his knees, sucked air into his lungs.
"That's it," he heard her say softly, grimly. "She was one of the mind-dead."
"An amateurish job of tailing," Agis remarked.
"Or meant to look that way." Maigrey stood up, glanced around. "She was probably a decoy. Supposed to play games with us, keep us entertained, while her two cohorts went about the real task. Brother Daniel, do you feel up to walking? I doubt if anyone on Hell's Outpost will get upset over a corpse in the street, but I'd rather not have to answer any questions."
"I'm all right," said Daniel, blushing, refusing Agis's proffered assistance. "It's just that I feel . . . such a fool, my lady."
"Sorry we couldn't let you in on our plans. It's not that we didn't trust you, but the walls have ears, as the saying goes. And I'm sorry for what I said to you back there, Brother," she added gently, laying her hand on his arm. "I had to keep her from getting suspicious."
"I'm the one who should apologize, my lady. I should have trusted you. I should have known—"
"Don't praise me too much, Brother Daniel," Maigrey said, harshly cutting him off. "Let's get going."
"One moment more, please, my lady." Brother Daniel leaned over the corpse. Lifting the dead hand, he placed it on the woman's breast, laid her other hand over it. Shutting the staring eyes, he murmured soft words, ending with, " 'Exaudi orationem meam; ad te omnis caro veniet. Hear my prayer, to Thee all flesh must come.'
"She was, after all, one of God's children," he said, rising, pale but composed.
"Once she was," said Maigrey. "But not now. Not when Abdiel was finished with her. She's better off dead. Come on. We've got a long night ahead of us. And I think this way," she said with a grave smile for Brother Daniel, "is the right direction."
Agis kept close watch behind, but they reached the air lock without incident and without unwanted company. Putting on their spacesuits, retrieved from a locker, they walked to the spaceplane in silence. Maigrey and the centurion kept their hands on their weapons, looked sharply into the dark shadows that stood out in clear-cut vivid contrast to the sun's bright light, unfiltered by clouds or atmosphere. But as closely as they watched, none of them saw the half-breed until he appeared right in front of them, as if he had sprung up out of the gray rock.
"You do not need your weapon. It is I, Starlady," said the assassin through the speaker on his helmet.
"Don't do that to me again!" she snapped, irritation concealing relief.
She held the bloodsword; she'd drawn it the split second she'd caught a glimpse of movement in the darkness beneath the belly of the spaceplane. But she was acutely aware of the fact that if the assassin had been her foe, she would more than likely be dead by now. "Next time, whistle or something. I could have sliced you in two!"
"Yes, lady-mine."
Maigrey guessed he was probably laughing at her behind his helmet, but she was too tired to care. And she still had the meeting with the cyborg to get through.
"Well," she said wearily, "did you find the mind-dead? Where did they go?"
"They come here, lady-mine," said the assassin.
Maigrey looked at her spaceplane, nodded. She wasn't surprised. "Where are they now?"
Sparafucile jerked a thumb. Maigrey saw a dark rift in the gray ground some distance from the spaceplane. Walking over, she peered down into a deep ravine. Light reflected off the shattered remains of two helmets, a leg was twisted at an odd and impossible angle. The rest of the bodies were hidden by the darkness.
The assassin came to stand beside her. "They sit in Cafe until certain you safe in private room. Then these two leave. A woman, she stay behind."
"Yes," said Maigrey. "We ran into her."
Sparafucile grunted. "I follow these two. They come here, to spaceplane, try to break in but fail. One stand guard, the other crawl underneath. I take out guard first, then go after the other. He have this in hand."
The assassin pointed with a toe of his boot to a pile of rock dust on the lip of the ravine. Maigrey, glancing at it, saw it was greenish in color, a distinct contrast to the gray rock around it.
"Was that the only one he planted?"
"I think so. I search, find no more."
"Good. But, still, we can't take the chance. Well meet with Xris on your plane. It isn't likely they would know it, would they? Even if they knew you?"
"No, lady-mine."
Maigrey turned away from the ravine abruptly. It hits you like that sometimes or so she'd told Brother Daniel. God's children. She's better off dead. They're better off dead, down in that ravine.
We saw you, Raoul had said. You were preoccupied. She remembered Abdiel in her mind, remembered the terror, the loneliness, the horror. She remembered the attic, the box of dreadful things. And he was in there, within that box, baiting her, taunting her, hoping she would turn her back, give in, relax. And then the box would slowly open and then his hand would reach out, claim her, and drag her down. . . .
"My lady!" Agis was beside her, concern echoing over the commlink. The assassin, on her left. Brother Daniel hovering before her like some damn angel.
"Go!" Maigrey ordered, waving her hands to dispel them, to shake them loose, to banish them. "Go on ahead ... to the half-breed's plane. I'll meet you there. Go!" she commanded angrily, seeing them standing, staring at her.
They went. Moving reluctantly, slowly, but they went.
Maigrey waited until they had gone around the back end of the spaceplane, waited until they were out of sight. She would have liked to have slumped down, curled up in a ball, buried her head in her hands. But that was impossible in a pressurized suit, helmet, gloves.
"It's low blood sugar," she told herself, waiting for the dizziness to pass. "I haven't eaten anything all day. Maybe longer than that. I can't remember. And then two drinks on an empty stomach. No wonder the only reason I'm standing is because these damn gravity boots won't let me fall over. I'll be all right in a moment. Oxygen," she said, readjusting the valve on her suit. "I need more oxygen."
She breathed deeply, took firm hold of herself, and started on her way to the assassin's spaceplane.
Chapter Eleven
And all's fish, that comes to my net.
Charles Dickens, Bleak House
Inside the half-breed's spaceplane, Maigrey removed her helm and breathing apparatus and was immediately sorry she'd done so. The stench was appalling, took her breath. She had to physically restrain herself from putting her hand over her nose and mouth, fought back the inclination to gag.
"This way for'ard, lady-mine," said Sparafucile, offering a hand to assist her.
His assistance was not mere formality or politeness. It was impossible to move more than a step or two into the bowels of the spaceplane (and "bowels" seemed to Maigrey to be an extremely appropriate term) without guidance.
The interior was illuminated by a lambent red glow, shining from various dials and instruments. The dim light gleamed off metal surfaces, showed up most objects as eerie shadows. But Maigrey realized after a close, accidental look at some of the objects that she should be thankful she couldn't see the remainder.
The inside of the volksrocket was like a refuse pit. No, she amended, moving ginge
rly forward, clutching the half-breed's hand, "refuse" implies unwanted bits of life that the owner has been too careless to discard. Sparafucile wasn't careless or undisciplined. The jumble and clutter that filled the half-breed's plane were parts of his life that he was either unwilling or unable to leave behind.
She groped her way forward. So much for dinner, she thought, her stomach turning at the idea. The others, including the cyborg, were already here, gathered together in one of the volksrocket's few cleared areas. And, at that, it looked as if the half-breed had taken a bulldozer to it. A wall, literally, of junk surrounded them. When anyone moved, bits and pieces of the breed's collection slid off, clattered to the deck.
Maigrey took her place near a pile of human skulls, tread on something that was soft and squishy. She edged it aside with her boot, keeping her eyes level, refusing to look down to see what it was. Or had been.
The half-breed hunkered on the deck, resting on his haunches. The cyborg lounged against one of the bulkheads, the red light reflecting off his metal arm and leg. Agis stood in military posture, at ease, but alert, tense. Brother Daniel perched uncomfortably and unhappily on a metal box. Maigrey glanced at the box's label,, stenciled in Standard Military, and wondered if the priest knew he was sitting on a supply of concussion grenades.
"It's late. I, for one, am tired," Maigrey began, her gaze encompassing all those present. "I'll cut the preliminaries, get right to the point, make this as brief and concise as possible. If you have any questions, please ask them as we go along.
"You have all heard, on the GBC, various rumors and reports concerning the mysterious disappearance of the Warlord Derek Sagan. It is important to our cause that we keep these rumors dive, which is why His Majesty—although he knows the truth—has made only vague denials. Here are the facts. Lord Sagan was taken captive by a mind-seizer, a man known as Abdiel, formerly head of the now-defunct Order of Dark Lightning."
Seeing the cyborg frown and about to speak, Maigrey raised a hand, forestalled him. "How my lord was captured, how this Abdiel remains alive after he was reported dead, are not matters we need go into. If you have questions on this, I suggest you refer them to Brother Daniel, who was present when my lord was taken, or to myself at some later time. What I say is true. The mind-seizer lives, and so do those who serve him. We have found three on Hell's Outpost."
"Where are they now?" Xris asked, taking out one of the noxious twists and lighting it. Maigrey was almost grateful to him; the smell of the black tobacco, though rank, was a definite improvement over the other malodors present in the half-breed's spaceplane.
"Dead," answered Maigrey shortly.
The cyborg nodded, said nothing more. Brother Daniel shifted uneasily on his box.
"Abdiel has fled with his captive to the Corasian galaxy. We're going after them."
"You know where they go?" The half-breed's eyelids were almost completely closed, he had appeared to be asleep and Maigrey was slightly startled when he spoke.
"No."
"Then how you find him, lady-mine?"
Maigrey had known this was going to come up, had steeled herself to explain it logically, without emotion. "Lord Sagan and I are what is known as mind-linked, a phenomenon that occurs sometimes in two of the Blood Royal."
"You talk with my lord?"
"No, I can't. He's closed his mind down, retreated before Abdiel's assault on it. But I will be able to find him. Let me put it to you this way. We are like two magnets, whose opposing fields pull them together."
"Abdiel, he know this about you two?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Not only does he know it, but he's counting on it. Lord Sagan and I are the last of the Blood Royal, the last of the Guardians. The mind-seizer has Sagan. He wants me. Only when both of us are out of the way, can Abdiel relax."
"So we're walking into a trap," said Xris.
"Yes, but at least we have the advantage of knowing it's a trap."
Xris blew smoke through his nose. "We're going into Corasia, then, to rescue Sagan—"
"Not primarily," Maigrey corrected.
She'd known this was coming, too. And this wasn't going to be easy. Agis and Brother Daniel both look startled. Sparafucile's misaligned eyes opened a half centimeter, glinted red in the light.
Maigrey took a deep breath, continued: "You have heard about the space-rotation bomb. The plans, the design, the knowledge of how this bomb works and can be produced are all in Lord Sagan's mind. It is Abdiel's intention to force my lord to reveal these plans, have the Corasians build the bomb. I leave you to imagine what Abdiel's plans will be once he has the most destructive weapon in the universe in his possession. To say nothing of the fact that the Corasians will have it in their power to build more.
"Therefore, our primary goal must be to halt this threat to our galaxy."
"In other words," said Agis, "if we cannot rescue my lord, we must destroy him."
"Yes," said Maigrey.
Brother Daniel shuddered. "God have mercy," he whispered.
"How do you know it's not too late?" Xris demanded, taking the twist from his mouth, gesturing with it. "Every man's got a breaking point, even Sagan. I know something about the Order of Dark Lightning, never mind how. But if half of what I've heard about the mind-seizers is true, then this Abdiel could make a man give up his soul, much less every secret Sagan ever knew. And once the Corasians get their robotic claws on that bomb info, it'll be relayed into their central computer system and that'll be all she wrote, sister."
"My lord has the ability to fight Abdiel, but—as you say—every man has his breaking point. In the end, Abdiel will win. Lord Sagan must succumb. But that hasn't happened yet. My lord resists still and can hold out longer. We must move feist, however."
"Into the trap."
"Into the trap. Our goal will be to get in and get out before the jaws shut. In order to succeed, we have to take the mind-seizer completely by surprise. The problem: entering the Corasian galaxy, breaking through their outer defense perimeter without getting ourselves destroyed and without alerting Abdiel to our presence."
Xris pushed himself up from where he'd been leaning against the bulkhead. "Hell, sister. You said this was hopeless, not impossible. Count me out."
"You can't leave," said Maigrey. "You know too much."
"Who's going to stop me?" The cyborg's metal hand flashed in the red light.
"I could," said Maigrey coolly. "But that would mean a fight, which would be a waste of time, energy, and a good man, for I would have to kill you. I have a plan. Why don't you stay and listen to it?"
Xris stared at her incredulously for a moment, then a slow smile crossed the thin lips. He settled back against the bulkheads. "Shoot."
"It's Corasian policy to attack and attempt to capture any ship coming from this galaxy into theirs—with one exception. One type of ship is permitted to enter. Not only permitted, but welcomed."
Maigrey glanced around, saw dawning comprehension on the face of the cyborg, saw—by Agis's grim expression and dark frown—that the centurion, though he wasn't happy about the plan, understood it. She couldn't tell what Sparafucile was thinking, but the half-breed's eyes had closed again; she presumed he understood and approved. Brother Daniel, of course, had no idea what she was talking about.
"A meat wagon," said Xris, grudging admiration in his voice. "Not bad, sister. Not bad."
"On looking over a list of shipping in the area, I find that the luxury liner, Galaxy Belle, will be within jump distance in approximately two Standard Military days. That should give you and your men time enough to get into position?"
She glanced at Xris, who nodded. The twist was almost gone, had burned down to little more than a stump.
"The Galaxy Belle is your typical space-going gambling casino, keeping well outside the legal limits to avoid any government hassles, entanglements, and tax collectors. It's one of the smaller pleasure cruise ships of the line, having a crew of twenty humans who serve primarily to run the ship. Most of
the work aboard is handled by 'droids. It can carry up to one thousand passengers. Adults only. No children are allowed," Maigrey added in a softer voice. "I checked."
Brother Daniel had risen to his feet. His face was livid, his eyes wide with shock and horror. "You can't mean this, Lady Maigrey! You can't be serious!"
Maigrey ignored him. "We will board the ship, seize control. The passengers and crew will be drugged, enough to keep them comatose, not enough to harm them—the drugs will be the Loti Raoul's responsibility. We fly the ship to Corasia, make it known what valuable cargo we have on board, get passed safely through the outer defenses. Once inside, we head for Abdiel's planet.
"His Majesty plans to raise a fleet of warships and bring them into the Corasian galaxy to assist us. Once we reach Abdiel's location, we will release the Galaxy Belle, hopefully with everyone aboard safe and unharmed. If all goes well and the fleet arrives, they can escort the Belle back to safety."
"If all goes well!" Brother Daniel cried in a hollow voice. "If all goes well! If it doesn't, you have doomed innocent people to . . . to . . . what did you call it? A meat wagon! God forbid this!"
Maigrey regarded him coldly, gray eyes dark. "Ask God what happens if the Corasians and Abdiel get hold of that bomb, Brother Daniel. Ask Him how many billions of innocent people will suffer? I am sorry for what I have to do," she continued resolutely, "but I mean to do it. There is no other way. This is our only chance. The good of the few must be sacrificed for that of the many."
Xris removed the butt end of the twist from his mouth, tossed it to the deck, ground it out with the heel of his artificial leg. "You some land of a religious nut or something?"
"I am—I was a priest," said Brother Daniel, remembering his cover story. "I was in the Order of Adamant."
"Never heard of it. But if it's any comfort to you, Priest, these gambling cruises are run by the mob, operate outside the law. They cater to people who don't care how they come by their money and less how they spend it. If anything does happen to them, they won't be missed."
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