AWOL

by Traci Harding

  ‘Wait,’ Mythric queried her inference. ‘You said I had two days before you kill anyone.’

  ‘I never said that,’ Satomi asserted, ‘and now you are inspired to complete all my requests in one day. It shouldn’t be too hard; just find my niece.’

  Clearly, to argue terms was only going to make his predicament worse. He walked over to where all the Juju stones lay glistening and retrieved one. ‘And if you get everything you want, what then?’ He felt a surge of energy move through him upon exposure to the Juju. Contact with the celestial force washed away his ill will and gave him a burst of vitality that lessened the pain of his injuries.

  ‘Then we will know the truth and can judge accordingly,’ the Qusay reasoned. ‘What you don’t seem to have considered is that I am right. I am giving you the opportunity to save our son from himself and our granddaughter from Khalid and his curse.’

  For the first time since Mythric had entered the room he detected true emotion in Satomi’s voice at her first mention of their son — it seemed she’d not had all feeling for him swept from her consciousness as she claimed. If she was lying about that, then maybe she was lying about having her love for him erased too?

  ‘Or maybe this is just an elaborate way for you to allow me to escape, before you really settle into the ruthless business of ruling Phemoria?’ He took several steps closer, to more carefully assess her reaction.

  ‘Do you wish to die, Spyridon?’ She warned him against coming any closer.

  ‘I did a moment ago … but now I do not,’ he confessed with a little more exuberance.

  Her eyes narrowed, wary of his change in mood. ‘Then go, before I reconsider and toss you back to my general.’

  ‘I will get to the bottom of this,’ Mythric assured her. ‘I will report back here this time tomorrow with a full account.’

  ‘Successful is what you meant to say, I’m sure.’ Clearly, Satomi was not open to further negotiation, yet something told him that there was more going on beneath the Qusay’s cool façade than she was letting on. Regardless of whether she still cared for her family, if personal feelings clashed with political duty there was only so much she could do. She may have given the order to finish Lucian Gervaise and his project, but when push came to shove, was she really ruthless enough to slay her own family? If she was, then they may as well have left the Phemoray in power. What he truly regretted was that she felt she needed to be so heartless to achieve her aims.

  Mythric envisioned himself fully dressed, and as his vision manifested it was clear his Power had been restored and he was fit and able to depart.

  Absent the resentment caused by his recent torture and the captain’s death, Mythric found himself sympathetic to Satomi’s position. This was indeed the Satomi he had first met — alone, resourceful and very determined. But beneath that veil of sovereignty there was a soul as sweet as any he’d known and he hated the thought of that woman being quashed on the same resentful path her mother had been forced to take. He wanted to reassure her, and believe himself, that the situation would end well; it was all a misunderstanding and somehow their family would survive this unscathed. But only one of his kin could ultimately be right about Khalid and the void between his wife and their son was expanding fast! He feared that gap would soon be beyond bridging — if it was not already.

  ‘Keep heart,’ was all the encouragement he could muster in parting, and his sentiment only caused the Qusay’s scowl to deepen.

  ‘Heart does not factor into this; you either bring me what I ask for or your new friends die a sad and painful death.’

  Mythric suppressed the urge to react to her threat, and held out the Juju stone towards her. ‘We are all one,’ he told her sincerely. ‘If you would only touch one of these, you would realise that.’

  ‘I don’t know what magic my niece wove into those charms, but she is manipulating you all as surely as the Phemoray controlled my mother!’ Satomi glared at him. ‘Deny that you cannot think ill of Taren while you are wearing it?’

  ‘Or anyone! I cannot lie, or do undue harm to any,’ he pointed out, and the Qusay’s expression was ever more bitter. ‘The truth is you don’t understand the true purpose of these stones.’

  ‘And you do?’ Satomi proffered.

  ‘Was your spirit not right beside me when Taren gave it to me?’ Mythric posed, although he’d always had trouble recalling that moment himself.

  ‘My spirit was only drawn to you when you mourned me, which was not the case in the instance you mention,’ she replied.

  Still, the statement barely registered with Mythric, as after all these years of trying to recall the moment he’d received his Juju stone, he was finally recalling it with blinding clarity.

  He remembered sitting in the teeming rain on Oceane, and being bathed by the celestial light there for the first time. Taren had delivered him to the virgin planet to be healed in the wake of a near fatal beating he’d received at the hands of Valoureans, and having been restored to full health from the brink of death, he’d felt high on life and at peace.

  ‘And how many names do you have?’ Taren asked and he’d picked himself up off the ground to answer the rather odd question, for she was not talking about aliases in this instance and at the time he’d known that.

  ‘Many. Although the one you may know me best by is —’

  ‘Rhun,’ they both answered at once.

  Mythric gasped; he didn’t grasp the full significance of the memory, but he suspected that it might corroborate his son’s story. However, here was a less than ideal place to speculate.

  ‘Spyridon!’ It was only when the Qusay roared that he realised that he’d not heard her calling for his attention.

  ‘My apologies.’ He realised he must have seemed a little vague, but in truth he was feeling both panicked and excited. ‘I must go.’

  ‘Agreed,’ the Qusay concurred. ‘The clock is ticking.’

  Mythric had to speak with Zeven, and so brought to mind the last place he’d seen him.

  Without her restraint casting a haze over her thoughts, Kalayna had figured out how to reverse the function of the psychic neutraliser so that it became a shield against psychic attack.

  She had found it fairly easy to remove the device, and to disengage its primary function, whilst still having the signal light remain active to avoid suspicion. But after spending hours inspecting the circuitry, Kalayna had dreams that night that disclosed how some rewiring would completely reverse the system function.

  Kalayna had experienced this kind of technological waking dream before. This was how she had discovered and fashioned the missing component that had restarted the oldest and only defunct inter-system gateway — located in the Oceane system. And now that she had envisioned the alterations, it made sound sense, from an engineering point of view, that the redesign would work.

  By the time Ayliscia awoke, Kalayna had completed the conversion of both their devices. They had been bitching at each other and faking fights since they’d been thrown together, in the hope that they might swap Kalayna to another cell with another of their crew mates.

  Ayliscia was a remote viewer like Aurora, and Kalayna felt if she had a Power, her technological mind was it. But neither of their talents was going to be able to free them all, as all the workings of the door locks were located on the outside of the cells, out of reach. They needed to get Kalayna in with Jazmay, as the ex-Valourean had PK and she could shapeshift.

  As Kalayna replaced the device on her cell mate’s ankle, Ayliscia was hurling abuse at her and bashing the shit out of her own hand. Then, grabbing Kalayna’s tiny screwdriver, she stabbed her hand with it and smeared the blood under Kalayna’s nose and across her cheek. ‘Make this look good,’ she whispered, as Kalayna stuffed her tools back into the waistband of her trousers. ‘You ready?’

  ‘Don’t hold back.’ Kalayna nodded, and was hauled out of the corner by her shirt, and hurled into the middle of the room.

  ‘You fucking bitch!’ Kalay
na wiped some of the blood from her face. ‘I’m sick of this shit! I want out!’ she yelled, turning circles as if unaware of where the surveillance was.

  ‘And I am sick of your whining! You don’t have to worry about them killing you, I’ll do it myself!’ Ayliscia came after her, and Kalayna dodged.

  ‘Get me out of here! She’s fucking nuts!’ Kalayna yelled through the tiny window, and seeing Kassa and Amie observing her through the tiny window of their cell across the way, she gave them a wink.

  ‘No one is coming to save your precious little arse!’ Ayliscia grabbed hold of her from behind and leaned in close to whisper, ‘The guards are on their way. Good luck.’

  Ayliscia yanked Kalayna from the door and spun her around to take a swing at her; Kalayna ducked and crash tackled Ayliscia to the floor, and much hair pulling and struggling ensued.

  The door to their cell opened and they were violently separated by Valoureans. ‘Get off!’ Kalayna was dragged out into the corridor, whilst Ayliscia was held down on the floor by the foot of the guard accompanying.

  ‘Don’t move.’ The guard backed up and closed the door.

  ‘A private cell for you, then,’ the Valourean suggested, as Kalayna held a hand over the bloodied side of her face. ‘I need the doctor.’ Kalayna motioned to the cell Kassa and Amie were in.

  The guard peered inside at the two women. ‘Which one is the doctor?’

  ‘The brunette,’ Kalayna informed before the women could speak up, but this was not the truth, and she hoped Amie and Kassa would not correct her on it. The doctor was actually a redhead and a telepath, which again was not really going to aid to open the cell doors. Kalayna didn’t know much about Amie Gervaise, so she was taking a gamble and hoping her talent might be more beneficial to their cause.

  The cell door was unlocked, and Kalayna was cast in.

  ‘Doc, clean her up,’ the Valourean commanded Amie.

  ‘Why … does she need to look her best for interrogation?’ came Amie’s snide reply, which detracted from Kassa’s bemusement.

  Kalayna didn’t know the crew very well, and clearly Kassa wondered if she’d got them confused, but she said nothing as she was hauled out and thrown in with Ayliscia.

  ‘Some food would be good!’ Amie yelled out the cell window after the Valoureans as they locked the door closed.

  ‘Dead people don’t need food,’ the guard informed and left.

  Amie turned to question Kalayna, who had retreated to sit on the toilet. But when she removed the restraint from her leg, and then held a finger to her lips, no further explanation was required.

  ‘Well then.’ Amie grabbed a towel and wet it down and moved in closer to her patient. ‘Let’s assess the damage then, shall we?’ She raised the leg wearing the restraint and rested her foot on the seat between Kalayna’s legs. The engineer got to work on converting it.

  The hut Mythric once established on Oceane was completely abandoned. Mythric had hoped to find his son and family here, but there was no hint as to where they or the rest of the crew had fled, and with AMIE destroyed here had been his best guess. He tried willing himself to Zeven, Aurora, Thurraya, even Khalid, but when no shift in location was forthcoming, he began to fear that they may have been on board AMIE when she blew. That was the only explanation for why he could not locate them using psychic means. Unless, of course, Satomi was right, and Khalid was using some dark magic to keep them hidden.

  ‘Damn all these curses!’ He grew frustrated with speculation, knowing he was very pressed for time. ‘Who do I believe?’ He leaned on the railing of the covered verandah, watching the rain fall and hoping that the enlightened being that tended this planet might grant him some insight. ‘Rhun,’ he wrapped his mouth around the unusual name. ‘Why do I know this name?’

  He gasped as his memory flew back to the day he’d met Zeven in President Anselm’s office. Zeven had come breezing through the door and, laying eyes on Mythric for the first time, had exclaimed, ‘Rhun? How did you get here?’

  Was that the extent of the epiphany? Why did Zeven and Taren call him by this name? Why had he called himself by it? Rhun. Who is Rhun? Am I Rhun? Mythric paused, feeling the same anticipation as someone who had found the secret combination to unlock a mysterious door, but was he going to like what he found on the other side? I AM Rhun. He repeated the mantra many times, and the Juju stone began reverberating under his hand.

  A barrage of memories of other lives in foreign climes flashed through his mind — like a recording on fast forward. Honing in on one instance in particular, his conscious perception was filled by a vision.

  He was reclining in the seat of a large, white, egg-shaped capsule that was opened at the front, and before him stood a tiny woman.

  No taller than a child, she was dressed in a dark blue hooded robe that covered her tiny form completely and directed his attention to her pale angelic face and her most striking feature — her large eyes of brilliant blue.

  ‘You are sad,’ she observed. ‘It was as you remember?’

  ‘Worse,’ he admitted, his voice hoarse with hurt, and he swallowed hard as he looked at her to catch her reaction.

  But she didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘Not to worry. We know what must be done. We are resolved.’

  ‘I cannot allow it,’ he insisted. ‘I cannot in good conscience save my people, if this is the cost.’

  ‘The choice is not yours to make.’ Her tone was more gentle now. ‘Our only worry is Wu Geng … the one you call Khalid. For thirty years, while you were collecting the rest of your timekeepers from among the Zhou, you left your one-time nemesis in our care. During that time we were the compassionate mentor Wu Geng has needed and never had. Our pupil has spiritually advanced beyond expectation under our guidance and we worry he will not cope well with the forthcoming events. We ask that you will protect our student from his own grief in the wake of this event.’ She held his gaze in heartfelt appeal. ‘It is all we ask in return for this service. Promise us …’

  The vision passed and Mythric found himself again staring at the pouring rain; and in the wake of the experience he had mixed emotions. This could not have been some fantasy he’d dreamt up to validate his son’s claim. He had no idea who or what the being was to whom he’d made this pledge, but Mythric knew his imagination had not spawned her, he just wasn’t that creative. If Zeven wasn’t lying and they had pledged to protect Khalid from himself, did that then mean Satomi was wrong in her stance of wanting to kill them all?

  ‘Not really,’ he answered himself. From what he could tell, no one was in the wrong per se, which made it mighty difficult to pick a side. By his reasoning, they all had a common goal — destroy the curses. The trouble was no one trusted anyone else to do it.

  From beneath the storm clouds in the distance Mythric spotted the lights of craft descending towards the great ocean that lay beyond this, the only small landmass on this planet, and the shape of the craft was unmistakeable.

  ‘AMIE.’ Mythric was stunned to see that the reports of her destruction had been false! Perhaps the death of the captain had also been a fabrication? He held an image of the captain in his mind and envisioned himself in his company, but the sound of the rainfall persisted as Mythric’s will was again denied.

  Taren Gervaise was of course the most obvious person to target next, but he dared not join her without knowing her current movements in case she was already running a mission to save the crew. Thus Mythric made the flight deck of AMIE his next target location — someone was flying that vessel and whoever it was surely had some insight to lend to his quest.

  Before departing on her mission to free the crew, Taren parked AMIE deep underwater in the quiet, still depths of Oceane’s waters. By her reasoning the Valoureans could not have found AMIE via psychic means due to the large hunk of Juju stone she had placed at the vessel’s core as per Zeven’s advice. The Phemorians must have used a picture of the defunct inter-system gateway to teleport their craft into the Oceane star system and then
would have been able to locate the vessel the old-fashioned way, although the vessel had been cloaked and should not have been trackable by radar. At present the Phemorians believed the vessel was no more, so just in case they decided to check if Taren had restored it, she would conceal it below sea level, as AMIE was the only large craft in the USS with this kind of deep sea capability. Hindsight was a killer; they should have taken this precaution days ago!

  ‘No one could have foreseen anyone finding us so swiftly,’ Ringbalin countered Taren’s self lashing.

  ‘I should have known, that day in her courtroom,’ Taren commented. ‘If shifters could take her form, then they obviously had inherited her Power also.’

  ‘Satomi awarding all her shapeshifters all of her Powers was an unthinkable move,’ Ringbalin said.

  ‘Satomi did what?’

  Taren’s heart leapt to hear Mythric’s voice as she dropped anchor and turned to find her uncle flabbergasted by the conversation he walked in on.

  ‘It’s true.’ Taren raised herself from the pilot’s seat — she had no idea how to fly this vessel; she had guided the descent using her telekinetic ability. ‘I was confronted by a whole bunch of her in the courtroom. And whilst I was in Heavensgate informing my father of this, Valoureans —’

  ‘— took the ship,’ Mythric cut in. ‘I’ve just come from prison on Phemoria, where I ran into Leal.’

  ‘They’re still alive?’ Taren was relieved when Mythric nodded. His expression was not encouraging, however. ‘But I thought you were with Zeven?’ She was hoping to have some news of him, as her cousin’s tenacity would be a very useful asset right now.

  ‘Where is Zeven?’ Mythric jumped at the opportunity to ask.

  ‘You don’t know then?’ Taren realised.

  ‘Know what?’ Mythric appealed with a good serve of desperation.

  ‘Hold on.’ Taren hesitated to brief him, as her reasoning won out over the shock of seeing him. ‘How did you escape from the clutches of the Valoureans?’