Taking a position at the end of the couch, the former servant ignored her while he strained to hear the conversation going on at the big table.
Andi lay on the stinking couch, trembling, ignoring her aches and pains. I have to figure out how to escape. Iraku obviously had some kind of plan for her. And I doubt I’m going to like it. To test the restraints, she flexed her arms. No slack, no chance she could get her hands free.
The house filled with still more Naranti warriors. Weapons lay everywhere. Some men puffed on thin, rolled zinbital leaves. The intoxicating smoke filled the poorly ventilated room. Iraku remained the center of attention. Bits and pieces of the planning reached Andi, all about attacking more villages. From what she heard, the crowd seemed to be waiting expectantly for something or someone.
Overcome by the zinbital smoke and exhausted from her ordeal in the river, she dozed off.
When she jerked back to wakefulness, her chest was tight, every breath a challenge. Behind the gag her mouth had gone bone dry, and she’d lost the feeling in her hands. Her efforts to get more comfortable attracted the lax guard’s attention. Cursing, he checked her bonds, no doubt adding to her bruises in the process.
Satisfied, he rolled her over onto her back again and returned to his post.
At the roar of arriving vehicles, all the rebels in the room went quiet, glancing toward the door, shuffling their feet. The crowd moved back from the table at the center of the room. Only Iraku appeared unaffected by whatever was about to happen. The door crashed open and three or four new rebels swaggered in, followed by an offworld being. The latter glided across the floor in a sinuous series of moves. The upper half of its body was some hard, chitinous substance, adorned with inlaid symbols in gleaming gold. Protruding from its body at intervals, skinny brownish-red tentacles waved constantly in the air, expanding and contracting, turning this way and that. Sampling the scents? Listening, maybe? As a Loxton agent, Andi was used to working with nonhuman sentients and comfortable doing so, but this being was repellent. As she watched the newcomer move, she realized her visceral reaction was as if she faced a venomous snake.
Closing her eyes, Andi turned her head for a minute before deciding she’d be better off observing the situation. Lords of Space, that thing’s ugly. I’ve never seen anything like that, certainly not on Zulaire. Not even when I was offplanet at Loxton Academy. But if it’s not from the Sectors, can it be a Mawreg ally? Her heart skipped a beat. Or even a Mawreg itself?
Andi stared in amazement as all the armed Naranti rebels in the room knelt, heads bowed, chanting something in a Clan dialect she didn’t recognize. She kept catching a muttered name—Kuzura. She’d seen representations of the ancestral spirits known as Kuzura on the ancient tablets in the capital city museum. But this thing was not Kuzura. I don’t think it can be a Mawreg, though. Humans aren’t supposed to be able to look directly at them without going into seizures.
Short, wriggling red stalks grew like hair from the top of the creature’s body. All of the head tentacles turned as the being greeted Iraku in fluent Naranti. “You’ve done well, my son, succeeded beyond measure. The foolish ones went to ground in their capital city, afraid to venture out. The Obati and Shenti no longer trust each other. The strength of both Clans is sapped by mourning for those your forces killed.”
Iraku didn’t kneel to the newcomer but stood with bowed head. “They beg my Clan to come and mediate, as we’ve always done before. A few more such raids, a few more mysterious slaughters, and the Naranti Clan will be given the powers over all, to solve their problems as we see fit.” Iraku’s excitement was so intense he actually spit as he gloated. “And this time we’ll never hand back the Tablets of Authority.”
Moving independently, like a nest of baby snakes, the stubby, red tentacles leaned toward Iraku.
Maybe that’s what it’s using to project its voice? Hard on the heels of Andi’s speculation, the being asked another question. “What of Rahuna?”
Andi tensed at the mention of His Serene Holiness. She hoped the boat carrying him had made its way safely down the Chikeeri River. Maybe he’s telling Lord Tonkiln and Sectors Command what he knows right now.
Rolling up a map, Iraku shrugged. “No news. We believe he was killed in the ambush along with his staff and my entire squad.” The report sounded bitter to Andi. “I lost a lot of good men there. Who would have thought priests would—or could—fight?”
How little you really know, you arrogant old fool. Thank goodness Rahuna’s going to thwart your plans. A little thrill of pleasure at Iraku’s coming defeat warmed her from the inside, although she still took care not to let her vengeful thoughts show on her face.
With a sinuous motion, the alien moved back and forth. “I’ve brought you more reinforcements, plus additional armaments. My people have said a special blessing over these weapons. Use them, and you can’t be defeated. I give you the word of Kuzura.”
“And we’re grateful.” Iraku inclined his head and spread his arms wide.
The being shifted its upper body. More of the wriggling protuberances atop its misshapen head dipped into view. Andi shuddered but kept her gaze on the enemy. Quivering obscenely, the stubby, red tentacles turned one by one in her direction.
Oh, Lords, it just realized I was here. She recoiled into the hard couch cushions as the “Kuzura” came toward her, Iraku trailing in its wake.
You see me as I am, do you not? She heard a raspy, guttural voice inside her head. The alien stopped next to the couch, extruding long waving tentacles.
Andi stared at the golden ornamentation on the upper carapace. If that thing touches me with those tentacles—ugh, they have suckers on the underside.
Next moment the being had wrapped a tentacle around her arm, the sinuous tip exploring her body invasively as Andi squirmed. She felt suckers clamping onto the skin of her arm.
These others see the picture I wish them to, but you…
A metallic buzzing steadily grew louder in Andi’s head. The room swam before her eyes, a massive weight pressing on her from all directions. She couldn’t breathe, nor move. She feared her heart would stop beating from the immense pressure. Searing pain flared above and behind her eyes, like hot metal rods being driven into her skull. The alien flickered in and out of her vision. Her eyes hurt so much she couldn’t keep them open. It’s willing me to die. Straining against the crushing sensation, Andi fought the restraints with terrified desperation.
The attack ended, the pressure receding, leaving her feeling as if she’d been trapped deep underwater until the tide turned. Andi went limp, gasping for breath around the gag in her mouth. Her whole body ached as if she’d come down with benghola fever in the last two minutes.
“This one must be killed without delay.” Trailing its cold tentacles over her as it went, the alien moved from one end of the couch to the other. Shrinking back, Andi tried to minimize the contact with her bare flesh.
Grinning, Iraku pulled out a curved dagger, toying with it suggestively, looking at Andi. “I’ve decided to stage her death as a ruse. There’s an outlawed fertility ritual among the Shenti peasants. Hot blood spilled in the fields. I’ll revive the ritual tonight, with her. When her people find her drained body, the stupid outworlders will believe the Shenti are guilty. The Sectors will be eager to support my Clan taking power if they fear both the Obati and the Shenti Clans have gone rogue.” Iraku puffed his chest out with pride over his gruesomely imaginative plot.
Andi had read accounts of the ancient ritual, practiced before the god Sanenre had arrived. The earliest days of primitive civilization on Zulaire had been savage, cruel. She suppressed a mental picture created by Iraku’s plans. Andi’s hearing was still fading in and out but at least her vision was coming back, interrupted by flashes of light and dark patches at the periphery. He’s insane enough to carry out his plan. I’ve got to be ready for any chance I might get to escape.
“An unnecessary subterfuge.” The alien’s contemptuous tone suggested
it wasn’t pleased with Iraku’s idea. “Others have tried to enmesh the outworlders on Zulaire to no avail. A few casualties mean nothing to them. Kill her now and be done. She’s heard too much here.”
Andi opened her eyes long enough to see Iraku frowning. She recognized the angry expression as one the servants at the compound had dreaded. When upset, he was at his most tyrannical and unreasonable.
He didn’t appear to appreciate criticism of his plans, not even from a fabled Kuzura. Arms crossed, lips compressed, nostrils flared, Iraku stood taller. “I disagree, great one. If the outworlders think themselves at risk, they’ll pressure Lord Tonkiln to step aside, to hand over the Tablets of Authority. She is of great importance to the outworlders. They sent troops to escort her to safety.”
“It’s a waste of time, my son.” The alien now used a softer, more conciliatory tone, long, skinny tentacles whipping around its body in agitation. “Better to kill her now.” Andi shivered. “There must be no chance for her to escape and tell of what she’s seen here. Have your men throw the body in the field. We need to be on our way to the highlands.”
Iraku appeared reluctant to concede even a small portion of the scheme. “She must be killed in the field, great one. The hot blood must be spread in a circle—”
He’s certainly taking a sick pleasure in planning this hideous faux sacrifice. How can these other Naranti follow someone so twisted? Appalled, Andi tried to catch the eye of the Naranti nearest to her, to look for someone sympathetic, but there was no one.
“All right, do as you please on this matter, so long as it doesn’t cause delay.” The alien aimed its red sensory organs at Andi. Afraid of another painful assault on her senses, she pressed her body into the couch cushions, scrunching her eyes shut as the tip of one long tentacle touched her cheek. Her mind became fuzzy, her thoughts disjointed. Andi jerked her head away. The audience of Zulairians guffawed. The contact ceased.
She opened her eyes to see the false Kuzura gliding toward the door, tentacles neatly coiled against the shell-like upper body. “Join us at the rally point in the western hill country as soon as you have finished here,” it said.
Iraku bowed his head. “I’ll be there before the dawn, great one.” He wrapped his fist in Andi’s hair to hold her still and put his face right down next to hers. “You die at sunset.” Cackling, he strode off to supervise the distribution of weapons.
She closed her eyes. Hot tears prickled behind the lids then slid down her cheeks. Maybe it would have been better to have died in the explosion back at the summer colony. I fought so hard across so much of Zulaire to escape. And now I’m going to be killed in some horrific way by Iraku?
No. She squared her shoulders as she made her resolution. I’m not dead yet. I won’t be an easy victim for him. I’ll fight and try to make him pay for the deaths of so many innocents. Somehow…
***
The Naranti came to get her at sunset, as promised. The guards ripped the gag from her mouth and removed the belt restraining her ankles but left her hands bound. Supporting her by the elbows, the men got her to her feet. After having been in one position for hours on the couch, she had trouble walking the first few steps. Her back ached, and her muscles cramped.
Andi tried to keep the tiny flame of anger and courage deep within alive while trudging across the porch and down the two steps. The evening breeze lifted loose strands of her hair as she walked from the house between her two guards. Iraku strutted ahead of them. My favorite time of day. How ironic. And now it’s the time I’m going to die.
She refused to give Iraku the satisfaction of seeing her fear. I’m not begging him for my life. Even if I wanted to, he’s in some exalted state, unreachable. Maybe he’s envisioning himself sitting on the Planetary Lord’s throne. Every instinct clamored at her to run, to make a try for freedom, but she knew it would be a futile attempt. Ready to block any escape attempt, the thugs kept their hands on her, tight enough to bruise.
She reached the big land vehicle. Without looking back, Iraku climbed into the driver’s seat. The man on her right opened the passenger door and grabbed Andi by the elbow. His grip made the ropes bite into her already lacerated wrists, and she winced, crying out. Manhandling her into the backseat, the guards placed her between them.
Leaning against the vehicle’s cracked cushions, she tried to marshal her thoughts. I can’t let myself be paralyzed by terror. I may have some tiny chance to get away from them, so I have to stay alert. Tom’s face filled her mind’s eye. But he was miles away by now. I’m on my own with the madman and his fanatical followers.
Well, all right, what harm can one last appeal to reason do?
As the truck bounced over the rutted track, she leaned toward the driver’s seat. “Iraku, I’m sure the Sectors authorities would pay ransom for me. My family is important offworld—”
Lifting a hand off the wheel, her enemy made a fist. His voice grated harshly over the whine of the engine. “Silence her.”
The guard on the left slapped Andi openhanded across her bruised face, and she felt her lower lip split.
Iraku hit the brakes so hard a cloud of dust blew all around the truck while it shuddered to a halt. Glaring at Andi, veins in his neck throbbing with angry emotion, he said, “Don’t try to bribe me. Don’t sully the purity of our cause with talk of money.”
I couldn’t possibly sully anything as horrible and sadistic as your cause. Why won’t he listen to reason? Taking a risk, she pushed the topic of ransom. “I’m only trying to tell you the Sectors authorities aren’t going to react to you murdering me the way you’re hoping.”
“If you utter one more word…” Iraku said in a flat, lethal tone, using Sectors Basic, probably so his henchmen would not understand, “…I’ll tell them that having their way with you will increase the potency of their manhood because you’re an alien bitch. Maybe I’ll assure them that the longer they take with you, the louder you scream and beg for mercy, the stronger their manhood will rise. Do you understand me? One word, yes or no.”
Licking blood from her lip, she had to swallow twice to unlock her jaw enough to speak. “Yes.”
“Then be silent, and I’ll let you die unmolested, which is more than you deserve.” He waited a second. Then, apparently satisfied Andi wasn’t going to provoke him further, Iraku set the vehicle in motion once more.
She stared past the guard to watch the landscape flowing by, trying to make plans, but ideas tumbled one after the other in her mind, useless fragments. The prospect of dying like some old-time sacrifice was too terrifying for her mind to hold. Andi felt herself detach from reality as Iraku brought the vehicle to a smooth stop beside a partially harvested field of grain. She had the sensation of watching someone else yanked from the vehicle and dragged across the rough ground. That woman twisted, struggled and screamed curses at her captors in four different languages, but Andi remained safe in her quiet cocoon of unreality.
This is not happening to me.
Everything will be all right.
Somehow.
At the center of the field the guards yanked her to a halt, forcing Andi to kneel. Small pebbles and jutting roots dug into her lower legs and knees, the pain snapping her back into harsh reality—this was happening to her, and it was all too real.
As the men held her in the kneeling position, Iraku clutched his long hunting knife in his right hand. A wave of cold determination gave her renewed strength. No, he’s not doing that to me. I won’t make my death easy for him.
Fueled by adrenaline, Andi fought to stand, surprising her captors and actually breaking loose for a second or two.
All too soon, the two Naranti men shoved her into the sacrificial position again. As she knelt on the harsh roots, stones and packed dirt, her shoulders ached, nearly dislocated in the desperate struggle.
Chuckling as he shook his head, Iraku appeared to find her efforts amusing. He patted her cheek. “You outworlders never give up, do you?”
Andi jerked her head a
way from him. “Don’t touch me, you bastard.”
“Defiant to the end.” Iraku examined his knife, running a careful finger along the edge, revealing yellowed teeth in a big smile. “We won’t take the time to utter the superstitious twaddle of the Shenti peasants. Maybe the offering of your blood will please the harvest spirits anyway. The crop next year might improve. What do you think?”
She spat at him. “I think you’re insane. Go to hell.”
Throwing the knife in the air, Iraku guffawed, catching the weapon by the leather-wrapped hilt. One guard got a good grip on Andi’s hair close to her scalp, yanking her head back to expose her throat. Blood pulsed hard through her jugular vein, the strain on the blood vessel accentuated by the cruel angle.
“Tom,” she whispered, closing her eyes, trying to blot out these horrible moments. She breathed a prayer to the Lords of Space. Please, let my last thoughts be of the man I love.
The harsh whine of a blaster cut through the night.
Flaring heat rushed past her. Screaming, the guard holding her hair crumpled in slow motion, cut nearly in half by the beam. As he fell, he dragged Andi, still on her knees, with him. Sprawled sideways in the dirt, she kicked, trying to work her body into a position where she could stand. This is my chance. The other man released his grip on her shoulder to seek the source of the attack just as a second blast came. His body fell across Andi and the first dying Naranti, the dead weight pinning her down.
From somewhere in the field, Tom yelled, “Andi, get out of there!”
She squirmed frantically to get out from under the second guard’s body. Kicking the corpse out of the way, Iraku reached out with his free hand and dragged her upright to shield him.
Escape From Zulaire Page 18