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The Quiet God (Earth Exiles Book 4)

Page 2

by Mark Harritt


  Dostori Rev frowned, “Possibly aided by our two aircraft.”

  Om Varee crossed his hands in his lap, “Possibly. There is one strange item, though.”

  She turned her head to look at him, “and what’s that?”

  He spread his hands, “It appears that the enemy used one of your biologicals to attack Caon Verjon’s men.”

  Dostori Rev paused as she lifted her glass to take another drink. She lowered the glass of wine, and stared at him intently, “What?”

  He cleared his throat, “Ah, it appears that they used one of your larger predators to destroy most of Caon Verjon’s men. The tracks were unmistakable. Plus, it looks like the same predators were used as a diversion at the compound.”

  “They’re using my own creations against me?”

  He nodded, “It appears so, Dostori Rev.”

  She stared toward the open door that led out to the landing, deep in thought. Her eyes blinked and she looked back at Om Varee, “It seems that our enemy is more resourceful than I thought.”

  Om Varee caught the usage of ‘our’ in her sentence, and inwardly, he felt relieved. It seemed that she still considered him to be a useful asset. That meant that he wouldn’t have to worry about the assassins anytime soon. He knew that would change if she learned of his machinations against her. Hopefully he would be able to conceal his efforts until he completed his assignment.

  Wheels within wheels was the only way that he could describe his life. Since he’d been found and rescued by his master, Om Geral, on the streets of Mirimvir, trying desperately to stay ahead of the slavers and rape gangs, he’d been trained in the subtle arts of espionage and sabotage. The Ts’ii brotherhood had a definitive goal on this planet, and it was up to him to see it through. Hopefully, if he could complete this assignment, it would lead him further toward his ultimate target.

  He nodded, “yes, Dostori Rev, it would appear so.”

  She sighed and leaned back into the plush chair, “Go ahead, tell me what we lost at the compound.”

  He interlaced his fingers, “They have one thousand rifles with one thousand rounds for each. They took fifty pistols, with five hundred rounds for each. They took five hundred blocks of explosive. They took enough rations to feed four hundred men for thirty days. Raw materials that we brought back from our active mines were taken. They took tools, computers and other miscellaneous items that are too numerous to describe. I can have a list drawn up for you.”

  She waved her hand, indicating that she had no interest in the list, “Why were there so many rifles and munitions there?”

  “It was the Lord Caon’s order. It was for the increased operations that you ordered. He wanted to create a depot so that incoming soldiers would have the equipment waiting for them when they arrived.”

  Her face tightened, and her knuckles turned white as she held the glass, “The fool. I’m glad I had him killed.” She looked at Om Varee, “You said something about the transport that was left behind?”

  He nodded, “Yes, the controls were destroyed. Thankfully, they couldn’t get inside the sealed drive to do any damage there. The transport can be repaired.”

  She motioned for him to continue, “What else?”

  He spread his hands, “Well, they slaughtered the entire staff. And, they took the slaves with them, to include the remains of the experimental subjects.”

  She leaned toward him, her eyes narrowing, “Why would they do such a thing?”

  Om Varee shrugged, “Some cultures honor their dead.”

  She settled back into her chair, “Strange.”

  He inclined his head, “Perhaps.”

  He could tell that she was restless. He watched as she stood up and walked toward the sunlight streaming through the open door. She made a flicking motion with her fingers, “And they’re still out there somewhere.” Her figure was alluring as the sun silhouetted it through the robe’s diaphanous fabric.

  He took a deep breath, aware of his increased heartbeat, “I would think so. There have been no smugglers that we are unaware of. We track all of the smugglers and their cargo, even the ones that think we don’t know about them. There’s no way for these soldiers to get off planet.”

  She turned toward him, “So we can find them? Destroy them?”

  He nodded, “Possibly. The continent is large and those mountains are rugged. We would need to allocate more resources to the area.”

  She smiled, “We?”

  He inclined his head in submission, “You, Dostori Rev.”

  She stood, one arm across her body, one holding the wine glass. She pointed at him with the hand holding the wine glass, “What do you suggest?”

  He stood up and clasped his hands behind him, “Well, I wouldn’t hire anymore Turinzoni. They’re incompetent in the forests.”

  She nodded, “Yes they are. You don’t have to worry about them. I won’t renew their contract. They’ll be gone in the next six months. Still, I need someone to replace them.”

  He held out his hand, and turned it, as if offering her something, “If I may give you a suggestion?”

  “You may.”

  “Keep the Turinzoni. Use them for what they’re good at. They can continue the slave runs. They’re cheaper to use than another force would be. Plus, they’re useful here in the city. Then, hire an elite group of soldiers to conduct operations against the enemy.”

  She considered the idea. He could tell she liked it. She nodded, “Agreed. That will keep my costs down on this operation. The Turinzoni are effective slavers.”

  “Brutal but effective. The only thing they’re good for,” Om Varee thought.

  “Do you have a recommendation for me?”

  He looked at her, “Kurkratik?”

  She laughed, “Oh, Gods no. I want to destroy these soldiers, not turn the place to an uninhabitable wasteland. I don’t have that kind of platinum lying around, either.”

  He nodded, “How about the Fustglol?”

  She shook her head, “Good suggestion. Very effective mercenaries. Also too expensive. Besides, they’ve been hired by one of my brothers to conduct operations further towards galactic center.”

  He spread his hands, “Those are the best in this arm of the galaxy.”

  “There aren’t any others?” she asked.

  He shook his head, “Not that I know of, Dostori Rev.”

  He hesitated before his next suggestion. He had to structure the pattern of the inquiry so that she wouldn’t suspect that he was trying glean information, “You could do an orbital bombing campaign. That would destroy all the thregari in the region. You could target all the villages. After that, it would be easy to destroy any that remained.”

  She frowned, “No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. I have other . . . concerns in the area.”

  “Concerns? Should I know about them?” he asked.

  She turned her face so that she could study his. Her attention was fierce as she stared into his eyes. For a moment, just for a moment, he thought he’d overstepped his bounds, but then the intense scrutiny shifted and she shook her head, “No, I’ll let you know when that time comes.” She turned to face the sunlight again.

  Her body didn’t hold his interest as intently as it had moments before. The wheels turned in his mind. He thought he knew why she didn’t want to bomb that area, and why she didn’t want him to know. She was playing her cards close to the vest, but he had his suspicions.

  “I know what your secret is, Dostori Rev,” he thought. “We’re here for the same reason.”

  He had a very good idea why the Dostori Rev settled on this planet. The split with her brothers against their father had started quietly, though split was probably an understatement since it had since built into a world rending war between the two factions.

  The stories he’d heard about her father, the Dostori Vastiv, were multitude, some closer to the truth than others. One common thread ran through the mythology, though. Dostori Vastiv had been a nobody, an asteroid miner who’
d stumbled onto ancient tech and ancient knowledge. Now, he was the most dangerous man in the galaxy, willing to burn entire planets to keep his hold on his decaying empire. Dostori Vastiv held the galaxy in his hand, politicians and men of power ready to do his bidding for the scrap of crumbs that he allowed to drop from his table.

  His starships bridged the great voids of interstellar space to tens of thousands of inhabited planets across the galaxy, and his wealth, power, and influence was immeasurable. He’d waged war against solar systems, murdered and assassinated hundreds of thousands to ensure that he held a stranglehold on the tech that propelled his starships. His political servants were well paid to ensure that the rules favored his corporation and holdings. He sat like an immense, bloated spider at the center of a galactic web of intrigue and murder.

  Om Varee knew that the Dostori Rev and her brothers were in danger of losing this war with their father. They needed to negate their father’s technological advantage. Om Varee was sure that they were trying to locate ancient tech to do so.

  Om Varee contemplated the Dostori Rev, “Your father will be very upset with you if he finds out.”

  Om Varee brought his attention back to Dostori Rev. She sipped from her glass, continuing, “So no, orbital bombing is out of the question. I want to destroy the vermin on this planet. I don’t want to destroy the areas they live in.”

  Om Varee inclined his head. This time to acknowledge her directive, “I understand your concern. I will proceed with other options for you to consider.”

  She turned to study Om Varee. There was something different in her gaze this time. It was more . . . suggestive. She slowly walked toward him, heat in her eyes and squeezed his arm. After the squeeze, her hand slowly stroked his bicep, “You are . . . efficient, Om Varee. You have answers before I have questions. What would I do without you?”

  He smiled at her, very aware of the warmth of her body, “You would do what you always do, Dostori Rev. You would thrive. You’ve been successful for many years.” He spread his hands and bowed his head, “I was lucky that you chose me to head your intelligence operations.”

  She put her finger on his chest, and slowly walked around him, using the finger to trace across his chest, around his arm, and across his back. She placed her hand between his shoulder blades. It took all his effort not to tense up. He had no idea what she was about to do. Then, he felt the heat of her body as she leaned into him and kissed the back of his neck.

  He felt his neck and face flush. He didn’t know if it was from desire or his relief that she hadn’t put a knife in his back. With her, there was no separation between desire or hate. To her, violence and sex were two sides of the same coin. It could have gone either way.

  She moved forward until he could feel her breasts on his back, and put her arm around him. She leaned forward until he felt her breath on his ear, “I desire comfort. Do you mind?”

  His voice caught as he spoke, “I’m honored that you considered me, Dostori Rev.”

  His senses were overwhelmed by her. The Dostori Rev was a desirable woman by anybody’s standards. She stood taller than he, golden hair, and dark red skin. She was gold compared to his dross.

  Om Varee was not a man that stood out in a crowd. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, he could blend into the populations of thousands, if not tens of thousands of worlds. His unobtrusive physique had served him well as he conducted espionage operations throughout the galaxy. The only thing extraordinary about him was his eyes, constantly moving, nothing escaping his notice.

  Dostori Rev walked around him to stand in front of him and set her wine glass down. She shrugged out of her robe and let it drop to the floor. He felt his desire quicken as he stared at her magnificence. She walked over and sat back down in the chair, his eyes following her every move. She watched him watch her.

  She tilted her head, playing the ingénue, “Do you think your wives will mind?”

  He coolly looked into her eyes, “Right now, I don’t care if they do.”

  Her laughter tinkled across the room. She smiled seductively at him, “Perhaps, sometime in the future, they can join us.”

  He smiled back, “I’m sure that they would appreciate the invitation.”

  She tilted her head, “Then make sure they understand that they are invited to join you the next time you come to ‘advise’ me.”

  He spread his hands, “I will most certainly do so, Dostori Rev.”

  He walked over to her, and held out his hand. She placed her hand in his, and he helped her to stand up. He sat down in the chair, and pulled her down to him. She giggled as she sat in his lap, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He brushed her hands aside and pulled her face to his. They kissed a long, slow, smoldering kiss.

  After the kiss, she commanded him, “Please me.”

  The sex was intense, and destruction trailed them from one piece of furniture to another until they finally moved into the bedroom. Then the intensity turned into a languorous exploration. After they were done making love, she stood up, found an un-shattered glass and poured more wine. He rolled out of bed and followed the trail of destruction to collect his clothes.

  She stood nude, watching him as he dressed, “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

  He hesitated, thinking back to the young girl that she’d selected earlier, and then continued searching for his clothes, “Thank you for the invitation, Dostori Rev, but I have duties to attend to. I need to research other mercenaries in the region . . .”

  The Dostori Rev spoke, her voice clipped, professional, almost clinical, “No need. The Sh’raithe are available. They have a brigade of men in the Omrath solar system who’ve completed their contract. I’ve already contacted their leader, Taectis. They’ll be here in a standard month to start operations.”

  Om Varee continued to put his clothes on, concentrating on his body language and facial expression so that he didn’t display his alarm. Somehow, things had changed dramatically, shifting one hundred and eighty degrees in a spilt second. There were two problems with what she’d just told him. First, she’d hadn’t asked for his input before she made her decision. That meant she had other avenues of information available to her, ones that he wasn’t aware of, ones that she’d cultivated without his knowledge. That was a problem. He needed to control the narrative, the flow of information that he wanted to present to her. He’d have to find who her sources were, and then eliminate them. Second, Taectis was known to be a competent military leader. Things might get complicated with the Sh’raithe in the equation.

  The Dostori Rev continued, “I’m surprised that you didn’t know they were available, Om Varee.”

  Om Varee carefully adjusted his clothes, and turned to the Dostori Rev. As he turned, he put a contrite expression on his face. Her face was blank, noncommittal as she examined him intently, looking for weakness, anything that would indicate that he was unreliable. He clasped his hands together, and bowed low, “I’m sorry that I was unaware of their availability. It seems that some of my sources are unreliable. I’ll have to find other venues of information to ensure that we have full situational awareness. I will deal with the shortcomings of my subordinates.”

  As he straightened up, he noticed that her attention hadn’t wavered. At that moment, he knew something was wrong. She was the predator; he was the prey. He wondered if she bedded the Lord Caon before she had him beaten and beheaded. Then, something changed in her eyes, and her attention shifted. The predator turned from its prey. Her eyes turned toward the sunlight. She grunted, and waved him away, dismissing him.

  He bowed to her and turned, walking to the door. He didn’t turn around to look back at her; once again, not wanting to give any sign of weakness or worry that she could exploit. He opened the door and stepped outside. As the door closed behind him, he found himself face to face with four Dinshani assassin warriors. Their dark robes and veils hiding not only the numerous weapons they had secured on their persons, but their identities as well.
r />   For the moment, Om Varee was tense, waiting for the attack. That tenseness abated slightly as one, who Om Varee could only assume was the leader, bowed to him.

  “Om Varee, it is good to finally meet you.”

  Om Varee bowed in return, “And, to meet you, nameless.”

  The assassin straightened, “Ah, you are familiar with my people.”

  Om Varee nodded, “Who on this world isn’t. You’ve protected the Dostori Rev’s more important advisors.”

  The Dinshani inclined his head, “And now, we’ve been assigned to protect you, Om Varee.”

  The wheels turned in Om Varee’s head. Things were becoming very complicated. Om Varee thought back to the Lord Caon’s severed head. It was doubtful that the Dinshani were there to protect Om Varee. It was more likely that they were there to protect the Dostori Rev’s interests. Once the Dostori Rev decided that his continued existence was no longer in her best interest, it was probable that the Dinshani would take action against him.

  The wheels continued to turn in his head as Om Varee processed his new reality. He didn’t let that show as smiled at the assassin, though. He motioned toward his rooms, “I’m going back to my rooms. After you.”

  The assassin shook his head, “After you, Om Varee. Just go about your activities as you normally would. Pretend we don’t exist.”

  Om Varee inclined his head at the assassin’s advice. He turned and started walking down the hall. The assassins fell in beside him, two on each side, their padded steps barely registering as they kept up with him. Om Varee continued to keep his expression neutral as he contemplated the new political realities.

  ----------------------------------------------------

  Bob Leitz and Bobby McFarland sat at a single table, hunched over a computer, looking at the numbers scrolling across the screen. In front of them, across the low cavern, sat the null generator, with cables trailing from it to an extra quantum battery, one of the replacements for the mechs. Another cable spanned the distance to plug into the computer they sat at.

 

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