Patience was something he'd learned a long time ago.
* * * *
The robed figure jerked back, spreading his arms wide, sucking in air. Low, hissing laughter came from the ruined lips as the stench of rotting flesh filled the air. Blood dripped from beneath the hood, twin rivulets. Steam rose from the rancid fingertips.
In the throne, the other being rubbed white fingers together.
"She seeks to break free,” the hooded figure hissed. “But she won't let it. Can't. But not for long."
"How long?’ The pink-eyed gaze remained trained on the naked slave crawling up to his throne.
"She is strong.” The hood tipped forward, burying the ruined face further in blackness. “But she won't win."
"Good. So very good.” The slitted black pupils dilated as the slave reached for the hem of his robe, the chains on her wrists rattling.
A scream rent the hall, followed by loud, harsh laughter, and the occupants sitting at the long trestle tables below the dais laughed as the new entertainment was dragged into the torch-lit hall.
The hook came swinging from the roof on a long chain, impaling the prisoner beneath the shoulder blade. Even as he screamed in shocked pain, the chain swooped up, dislocating the shoulder but keeping the man very much alive.
The occupants of the hall laughed in delight as the blood spattered down, uncaring that it was on their food.
But they got bored pretty soon. Once the prisoner's screams died down to whimpers, then shocked silence, they wondered what else they could do to amuse themselves. When an orgy started in the far corner, some gathered to watch, some to join in.
Fredrico and Veknor remained standing behind the throne on top of the dais, their faces expressionless.
"Fredrico."
"Yes, Overlord?” Fredrico replied.
"Where is the ship?"
"At this time it is situated on Saalm."
"Interesting.” The Overlord nodded. “Very interesting."
Silence fell again, the crescendo of groans, moans, slapping flesh, the odd shriek and raucous laughter filling the hall.
A dark shadow flitted across the walls and oozed up through the vents in the smoke-blackened ceiling. Once outside, the shadow lifted into the sky, and a roar rent the air as the demonic, horned head of what would be classed as half bull, half man, threw back its head and roared its approval of the pervertedness being practiced.
Inside the fortress, The Overlord smiled and Phemar laughed wetly, bubbles sounding as he did so.
* * * *
The girl shivered. Kneeling on the bench near the bared window, she looked down to see the slave tents being packed up as the slavers prepared to move.
The manacles on her thin wrists chafed, cutting into her tender flesh. Her thighs ached from being forced apart for the humiliating, invading inspection of her virginity.
The Knifer hadn't come. Tomorrow she and the others were being taken away, and gradually sold.
She started crying.
* * * *
When the door to the treatment room swung open, Shaque looked up curiously. He'd heard the muted sound of voices from behind the door, the sound of an argument for several minutes involving what sounded like all four medics and Elyse, before silence had fallen again.
Now Elyse walked through the door holding a container in one hand, looking as cool and calm as ever. There was no sign of the scorching heat she'd gone through just hours ago.
He glanced at the timer on the wall. She'd been in the treatment room for three hours.
Now she was walking out dressed in clean clothes, her damp hair leaving him in no doubt that she'd showered and changed at some time while in the treatment room. She arched one brow at him. “Ready?"
Ready? That was it? Standing up, he looked from Elyse to Byron's sober face behind her. “She's all right?"
"Of course I am,” Elyse said. “A little temperature, that's all. Now I'm good and raring to go.” She turned around to look up at Byron. “Aren't I?"
The big Saalm's lips tightened. “I'd rather you stay—"
"And we both know that's not going to happen.” She surprised Shaque by reaching out and touching Byron's arm. “You brought me back, Byron. As always. But I need to do this."
Byron nodded slowly, but he still didn't look happy. “I know.” He ruffled her hair like he would an errant sister's. His gaze suddenly shot to Shaque. “But if she gets sick, I want you to contact me immediately."
"If she's not well enough to go—” Shaque began.
"I'm fine now. Right, Byron?"
Several telling seconds passed before Byron replied reluctantly, “Yes"
"And there you go,” Elyse said placidly.
It surprised Shaque even more when she suddenly reached out and hugged the big medic, who engulfed her in a bear hug without hesitation.
"Thank you,” she said softly.
"You just take care,” Byron said gruffly.
And wasn't the day just full of surprises when Elyse gave the three other medics a hug each as well? Who knew the cold-hearted mutant could voluntarily hug anyone apart from her pirate friends and Sonja? He somehow didn't feel surprised when the medics hugged her back, each with a word of advice for her. But it was to Byron she looked at last.
"Thank you,’ she repeated. “For everything."
"Elyse—"
"We have to go.” She swung around and started for the door. “Are you coming, hunter?"
"Is it safe?” He queried the medics.
There was dead silence for several seconds as the medics looked down at him.
"Depends for who and what you mean,” Byron said dryly.
"No,” Elyse said at the same time. “You should stay here."
As if that was going to happen. If she wasn't going to tell him anything, then he really didn't care. All he wanted was her contacts to find out about his sister. As long as she had her medicine, and all was well, that was all that mattered.
And he'd be on guard for any weird mutant shit, too. Mentally he fingered the daggers concealed in his boot tops and sheathed at his thighs. He also had a bit more research to do on her.
"Let's go.” Passing her, he strode through the door and out into the sunshine.
The Saalm people were going about their business, and no one gave him much attention, which was fine by him. Several big warriors trotted past on huge horses. Three spaceships swooped low overhead, and several children sped past on their flying discs.
Striding across to the ship he'd left docked not far from the medic centre, Shaque went up the ramp and into the ship, not bothering to check that Elyse followed.
By the time she came into the control cabin, he already had the engines fired up and the coordinates for Inka on-line again.
Without saying a word, she took the seat beside him and with a simple flick of a switch beside her, took over the controls of the ship. It was an unspoken warning that it was her ship and she was back in charge of it.
Leaning back in the chair, Shaque watched her from the corner of his eye. If he hadn't seen her himself just hours ago, he'd never have known that she'd been sick. She moved with her normal calm efficiency, and with no hint of lingering after-effects.
Interesting.
Once the ship was up and on its way, she left the cabin without a word, and he wasted no time in logging on to the bounty hunters’ line to his pack.
Abra answered within seconds. “Everything all right?"
"Yes. I just want to know if you're aware that Elyse suffers from some kind of repeating illness?"
"Illness?’ Abra's brow creased. “How interesting. No, I didn't know. What kind of illness?"
"I don't know. Her medics aren't talking, but it's obvious that it's happened before."
"Really? I've not heard anything about it.” Abra's gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “Think Sonja knows anything about it? Or the Daamens?"
"If they do, they're not saying anything, but somehow I doubt they do know. It's n
ot the kind of thing Elyse would want being spread around."
"The illness?” Abra chuckled at his own little joke.
Shaque just looked at him.
Abra just grinned back.
* * * *
Elyse wondered if Shaque would try to get information out of her, but he made no mention of her illness. But she had no doubt he was researching her, trying to find out.
He'd find out nothing. The Saalm medics were the only ones who had full tests on her, and they'd say nothing.
Most of the rest of the trip to Inka was done in almost silence again, but Elyse used the time to research what she could of Shaque and his sister. What she found was interesting.
Late one night in the control cabin, she used the viscomm to retrieve known data on Shaque.
He had lived with his parents and younger sister on Briiten, three days from the Outskirts of the Outlaw Sector. An attack by space pirates had ripped his family apart, his parents being killed and his sister, Nerissa, taken. Nerissa had been seven years old, he eleven. Shaque was the sole survivor, and had gone to live with his uncle and aunt. Four years later, he joined Cormac's bounty hunter pack.
Several photo images accompanied the entry. One was of the family together, showing a blonde-haired woman with a pleasant face, a good-looking brown-haired man, the little blonde-haired girl on the photo image that she'd seen earlier, and Shaque as a young, serious-faced little boy. Another photo image showed the man and woman on what was obviously their wedding day, another photo image showing a close-up of Shaque and Nerissa as children.
The photo image beneath the family shots caught Elyse's attention. Shaque would have been about thirteen years old, his face showing the promise of the classical handsomeness that was his face today. His eyes were cold, his face not simply serious, but already emotionless.
Obviously the killing of his parents and the kidnapping of his sister had affected him so much that already she knew, even at that young age, that Shaque's destiny was set. Beneath his image photo was a short account of the classes he'd taken besides the normal schooling. Self-defence, weaponry, spaceship manoeuvres levels 5 and 6, law.
Yep, he was destined for either bounty hunter or peacekeeper, but bounty hunting would bring him closer to his prey. Right in the middle of it, actually. The boy who was a victim, became a man who was a hunter.
That was the official journal.
Going into one of the more illegal programs, Elyse logged on to the bounty hunter ledgers. It took several minutes to get through the wall, but her interest and knowledge of secure lines made it simply a challenge.
His photo image came up, and there he was in all his classical handsomeness. Leaning back in the chair, she studied his image, and had to admit that he was good-looking enough to warrant a second and even third look from interested parties. Not that I'm interested, but a girl can enjoy the view, right?
Lifting her arms, she linked her hands behind her head and studied his features. The winter blue eyes held no emotion, his mouth showed neither softening nor tightness. His strong jaw showed no clenching. No smile crossed his face, no laughter lit up his eyes.
"I wonder what you do for a laugh, to release a little tension?” Leaning forward, she taped the screen, and the photo image and all information disappeared.
Swivelling the chair around, she crossed her ankles and propped her booted feet up on the corner of the console. Staring out at the twinkling stars in the black void of space, she contemplated her travelling companion.
Shaque wanted to find out what had happened to his sister.
Elyse wanted to find his sister to discover the links of her lost youth.
They were both after the same person for different reasons.
* * * *
Impossible as it sounded, they reached the Inka Empire two days later. Shaque had no doubt that whatever thrusters Elyse had attached to her engines, it was something no one had heard of, but one he intended to investigate as soon as he could. For now, he was just glad to get to their destination so quickly.
The Inka Empire had been totally redone. The original fortress had been razed to the ground, every tunnel and dungeon thoroughly explored and stripped of everything salvageable before being caved-in.
The new fortress was built over the same site, but there were no tunnels, no secrets. Or so, Shaque thought wryly, people were led to believe. But every fortress had its hidden tunnels. The only thing he knew for a fact was that this new fortress, built by Atyon, the current Inka Empire Emperor, hid no horrible secrets.
Atyon met them at the docking bay, a smile on his pleasant face, his short fair hair just brushing the collar of his uniform jacket. His brown eyes met Shaque's evenly. Not a big man, nor bulky of build, he nevertheless had a quiet strength about him.
"Shaque. Elyse.” He shook Shaque's hand, made a small bow towards Elyse.
No hint of his thoughts was reflected on his face as he faced her, one of the experiments done by his late cousin, Shari. One of the same experiments that had tried to kill him and every other person loyal to him.
Though to be fair, it wasn't totally Elyse's fault. Being an experiment, having her mutant side brought back to the surface by a mad mutant everyone thought was human, wasn't her fault. And she'd done her time.
The four soldiers standing by their Emperor obviously hadn't forgotten. Their hands weren't far from the lasers holstered at their thighs.
Elyse faced them without trepidation, her gaze indifferent. Her attention on them was fleeting, her steady gaze falling on Atyon.
"I'm pleased to see you, Shaque,” Atyon said as they all turned and started walking back towards the fortress. “I understand you are here—both of you—for information?"
Not one for beating around the bush himself, Shaque was glad that Atyon was the same. That was one of the reasons they'd always gotten on so well. “We need any information you may have on Elyse."
"Oh?” Atyon glanced at Elyse, who was quietly walking beside Shaque. “But don't you have all the information you need?"
"Apparently not.” Shaque glanced at Elyse, but she simply looked back at him, obviously quite content to let him do the talking.
"What could we possibly have that you don't already know?” Atyon leaned forward a little to see Elyse past Shaque.
She didn't hesitate. “I want access to any image photos you may have of my youth here before I was sent away. I want all discs pertaining to my DNA, genetics, donors to the program, and any correspondence of any kind between Shari and the people who took me in once I was sent away."
"Ah. I understood the IPC had all of that."
They passed through the gates and into the lush grounds of the fortress.
"The IPC gets nervous when people like me poke around, wanting more answers. I know what they'll show me will be nothing I don't already know. Security will have anything deemed too important to allow it to fall into my hands. And I know you would have kept a copy of everything."
Atyon's eyebrows rose.
Elyse stared him down.
Entering the fortress itself, they walked down the wide corridor and into Atyon's private offices. Two of the soldiers stationed themselves outside the door, while the other two came in with him.
"So,” Atyon sat down behind his massive desk. “you think I held information back?"
Settling into a chair on before the desk, Shaque watched Elyse.
"I know you kept copies of everything.” Elyse didn't sit, but stood with her hands in her pockets, her face still expressionless.
"Why would I have done that?’ Atyon queried.
"Because you're not stupid. Regardless of what happened, it is a part of Inka history. You wouldn't have gotten rid of it."
Lips pursed, Atyon leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair and placing his fingertips together. Over top of his hands, he studied Elyse.
"And I don't have time to waste while you debate what to tell me,’ she added bluntly.
<
br /> "In a hurry?"
"I don't like piss farting around with leaders."
A small smile crept over Shaque's mouth when Atyon transferred his gaze to him.
"Very outspoken,” Atyon commented.
Shaque inclined his head in agreement.
"You brought her here to get this information.” It was a statement, not a question.
Shaque nodded.
Rubbing the tips of his fingers against his bottom lip, Atyon gazed up at Elyse, who stood with confident stillness a little way from the desk. The silence in the room was almost loud.
The soldiers stood at ease, but their gazes were on Elyse.
"So,” Atyon said finally. “what if I told you, Elyse, that I don't have that information?"
"I'd call you a liar."
Five
"My, that's a little harsh."
"I'm not known for my gentleness."
"So I see and hear.” Atyon looked at Shaque. “And what do you have to do with all this, my friend?"
Reaching into his top pocket, Shaque withdrew the folded photo image and tossed it onto the desk. “Elyse's information is linked to the information I need."
Picking up the photo image, Atyon opened it and studied it. He looked up at Elyse, back at the photo image, and then folded it and handed it back to Shaque.
"Your eyes were blue,” he said bluntly.
Elyse shrugged.
"And you're with Shaque's sister."
She nodded.
"So you know her."
"I don't remember her. But if she knows me, then she may know more about my background, pieces that may be missing from even your files."
Shaque watched Atyon's face. The brown eyes swept boldly over Elyse, not missing anything in her stance, his gaze lingering on the dagger at her waist, the laser at her thigh.
But, Shaque thought with a sudden irritation, he didn't have to linger on her breasts or hips.
Almost as if he read his thoughts, Atyon glanced at him, amusement in his eyes.
"Well?” Shaque asked coolly.
"You both want to know where your sister is. Elyse holds the key to that ... maybe.” Atyon nodded. “Very well.” He turned to the two soldiers. “A moment alone with these two."
They didn't argue, but their expressions were hard as they looked at Elyse while they passed her on the way to the door.
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