"The council will never allow you to seek out the Shrike, Rayne."
"Look, I'm not keen on the idea either, but I'm following my guide's instructions, and he seems to know a lot more about this story than you do. After all, he knew the Shrike didn't murder his people."
"How were we supposed to know that?"
"Go down to the planet," she said. "See the remains of the Crystal Ship for yourself."
"We can't. The radiation is too intense; the result of several hundred high-yield nuclear bombs. It will be hundreds of years before anyone can safely go there again. You shouldn't have gone; you took a hell of a risk."
"I'm fine."
"You should see a doctor, just in case."
"Endrix said it was safe, and I believe him."
Tallyn rose and went over to the window to gaze at the sunlit garden. "Anyway, now that we know what we face, we can arm ourselves against it. That ship won't be allowed anywhere near Atlan, and certainly not into our atmosphere."
"You can't stop it. It's immune to your weapons, just like Endrix."
"Then we'll find other weapons. Our scientists will start work immediately."
"It won't work. Don't you see? That's why Endrix's masters gave you the prophecy. I'm the only one who can stop it, and I don't even know how, but I need the Shrike's help, so I must find him."
"What can he do that we can't?"
"He has more advanced ships. Endrix says I'll need one."
Tallyn swung around, scowling. "Why would he give you one, or even lend you one? He'll sell you at the nearest market."
"He'll do it for revenge."
"He won't, because it's not his planet that's threatened this time. Atlan's demise would please him."
"No." She shook her head. "He told me he doesn't want Atlan to fall. That's why he let me go."
"He let you go to throw us off his trail. He made his escape while we stopped to pick you up. If he had killed you, we'd have hunted him down, and he knew it."
Rayne jumped up. "Fine, think what you want. I have to find him, whether you like it or not."
"But if we don't help you, how will you find him?"
She glared at him. "It's up to the council to decide, not you."
"They won't allow you to risk your life."
"Then they'll stop me from saving Atlan. If you prevent me from doing this, you could be the ones to pay the price. If I have to, I'll buy passage on a commercial ship and find him that way."
Tallyn smiled. "Impossible. Commercial ships don't go into his territory, and he rarely ventures out of it. No, we'll provide you with a good ship when you need it."
Rayne opened her mouth to scorn this suggestion, but Rawn took her arm and tugged her aside. "Leave it, Ray. He's never going to agree, nor will the council, I'm sure. They're too proud to admit that they need anyone's help, least of all an outlaw's."
"Whose side are you on?" she demanded.
"Yours. Look, I don't like this either, but it kind of makes sense. After all, if your guide's story is true, and I see no reason for him to lie, then this man is the only living person to have ever encountered one of these Envoys. Am I right?"
"Yeah, so?"
"He knows what we're up against, the Atlanteans don't."
She met his tawny eyes. "So you agree that we need his help?"
"Yeah. I don't like it, but I think your guide's right. But arguing with Tallyn is just a waste of time and air."
"What do you suggest?"
"Quit arguing with him. We'll find a way. I have an idea."
Rayne nodded and turned to Tallyn. "Why don't you ask the council if they'll help me find the Shrike? You have to report to them anyway. Let's see what they say."
"Fine," he headed for the door.
Rawn went to use the net line screen, and while he was busy Rayne ate another meal, resolving to get some sleep afterwards, and a bath. Fatigue still plagued her. She had not slept since her brief, nightmarish doze on the scout ship. Rawn was still busy when she finished her meal, so she bathed and went to bed.
Rayne woke refreshed, and washed before she wandered through to the kitchen to make a cup of a hot beverage that took the place of coffee on Atlan. Pale morning light streamed in through the windows to dapple the grey carpet, and the silence told her that she was alone. The peace did not last long, however. Before she finished her coffee, Tallyn called to inform her of the council's decision, which denied her request, as Rawn had predicted. She accepted it without argument, and he broke the connection looking puzzled and annoyed. An hour later, Rawn returned, brimming with news. She made him a cup of Atlantean coffee, and he told her what he had achieved.
"It's Mergan's doing," he said, naming his Atlantean sweetheart. "Her father owns a yacht, and he works for military intelligence. She can borrow the yacht to take her friends on trips to Verdian or Termon. When I told her the story, she agreed to help, and she'll arrange for the yacht to be available tomorrow night. The biggest problem is finding this Shrike guy. The Atlanteans don't actually know where he is. They never do. But…" He raised a finger. "…Last night they received information that leads them to believe there's going to be a raid on a shipment of slaves in the Jarlan solar system, just outside his territory. It might be him."
"And if it's not?"
He shrugged. "Then we keep looking. It's our best shot."
"I suppose so. That's great. You did good. So tomorrow night I can take the yacht?"
"Well, yeah. And a few of my friends."
"No way! This isn't a pleasure cruise. We might encounter one of the most dangerous outlaws in the quadrant, and you want to bring your friends? And Mergan too, I suppose?"
"Well, it is her yacht." He squirmed.
"No. Absolutely not."
"If it's safe enough for you…"
"I know him!" She threw up her hands. "Yes, it's dangerous for me too, but I have to do it. Well, I don't have to do it. I could just let the Envoy destroy Atlan, as long as I'm not on it. He knows me, or he might remember me. At least he might give me a chance to discuss it. Endrix thinks so. Damn! I just don't know anymore."
"Well, you can't go alone, anyway. The yacht needs a crew. You can't fly it."
"I don't have to. We could have it programmed, like the scout ship."
"That's tricky, you know. What if it's not him?"
"We can have two – three programmes. One to go to the Jarlan system, one to return to Atlan, and one to take me to his base."
Rawn looked dubious. "That sounds dangerous. What base?"
"It doesn't matter. There's a map of his territory on the data net. We can choose a base from that. They're all marked. Once I'm there, his people will inform him of my request to see him."
"Why don't you just send him a message from here, and ask him to meet you?"
"With the Atlanteans listening? He'd never even respond."
Rawn frowned and rubbed his chin.
"That's got to be the dumbest plan I've ever heard," a soft voice said behind them, and Rayne whipped around with a gasp, her heart skipping a beat. Rawn released his laser's hilt as Tallyn stepped into the lounge, his eyes chips of black ice, his lips twisted in a sardonic smile.
"You did that on purpose!" Rayne accused. "You imitated his voice. You've spoken to him."
"Of course, we're old enemies. I knew you two were up to something when you took the council's refusal so well. I should have you placed in protective custody."
"If you want your world to die."
He raised his hands. "Okay, I've thought about what you said, and I suppose it does make sense. If your guide told you to do this, he must have a good reason. I dislike the prospect of asking that murderer for help, though, I have to say."
"I'm sure you do."
"I don't think he will help us, either. But if you're so determined to find him that you would contemplate sailing off into deep space in an interplanetary yacht, with no more idea of where you're going or how to get there than a map off the data net…"
He sighed, shaking his head. "I'll just have to help you, so you don't get yourself killed. The Shrike might still do that, but at least it won't be because of your ignorance or my stupidity."
Rayne glanced at Rawn, then cast Tallyn an uncertain smile. "Thanks, but won't the council punish you if they find out?"
He shrugged. "Probably, but who's going to tell them? Look, I don't like this any more than I did yesterday, but you do seem to have led a charmed life so far. Making an eight-hour journey in a flimsy yacht is just asking for trouble, though, and locking you up is guaranteed to defeat the prophecy.
"This little scheme may seem like an adventure to the two of you, because you know so little about space and its dangers, but you'd never have made it, trust me. Nor can you go into his territory in an Atlantean scout. We have a lot of enemies amongst the various outlaw factions. If I take you in Vengeance, you'll be safe, but you won't get anywhere near the Shrike, and his people will suspect a trap."
He held up a hand again when she opened her mouth. "Even if I dropped you at one of his bases, I doubt he'd agree to meet you, and his people might just decide to dispose of you anyway. For some reason, they're damned loyal to him."
Tallyn wandered over to a chair and sank into it with a sigh. Rayne sat opposite him, her gaze intent. "Then what?"
"The Shrike is notoriously elusive. Few people who've gone in search of him have found him. Most of them found sticky ends instead. I have a… an acquaintance, who might be able to help you. He's a smuggler, a petty crook who trades information with me in return for his freedom. He might be able to take you to one of the Shrike's bases without arousing too much suspicion. It will be expensive, though. Like most of the lesser outlaws, he has a morbid fear of the Shrike, who has a reputation for wiping out his competition."
She glanced at Rawn as he settled beside her on the couch, and he raised his brows and cocked his head with a smile. She turned back to Tallyn.
"When do we leave?"
"The Shrike will not see you."
Rayne was tired of hearing that proclamation, in various forms, and gritted her teeth. She had been waiting on his base for two days. Tallyn's smuggler friend, a middle-aged Atlantean with a scarred face and bad halitosis, had dropped her on Ironia before beating a hasty retreat, and she was glad to be away from his lecherous looks and smutty talk. He had kept his deal with Tallyn, however, and delivered her into Tarke's territory. Now she faced an unexpected obstacle, one she was beginning to think was insurmountable.
Tarke would not see her, and nothing she said seemed to make any difference. Rayne glared at the black-clad woman who faced her, a blank-faced Erdorian whose rather sullen expression suited her office as bearer of bad news. Rayne recalled the unpleasant fourteen-hour journey she had endured. The smuggler had spent only four hours linked to the net before taking a six-hour nap. Mercifully, she had not been linked to a neural net, but now found herself barred on Tarke's doorstep for her trouble.
"Does he give a reason, or is he just being bloody-minded?"
"He's not currently on this base," was the tart reply.
"And is he planning to come here any time in the not too distant future?"
"I don't know his plans."
"All right." Rayne forced a stiff smile. "Would you give him a message then?"
"Certainly."
"Tell him I know what happened on Elliadaren."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Rayne shrugged. "He'll know."
The woman snorted and spun on her heel, marching off down the corridor. Rayne watched her until she turned a corner, then decided to go for a walk in the garden in front of the building. Two guards kept an eye on her from the doorway. They followed her everywhere, and sometimes prevented her from entering certain areas. She was not being treated exactly as a prisoner, but that her host did not trust her was abundantly clear. She had been scanned upon arrival, and since then her keepers had treated her with deep suspicion. This time, she had her own clothes, and wore a dark blue one-piece suit that stood out amongst the monotony of black-clad people.
Rayne glanced back at her guards, who followed her, laser rifles held across their chests. At first she had thought the guns were meant for her, which seemed rather paranoid since she was unarmed, but now she suspected that the weapons were more for her protection. Several times she had encountered people whose eyes had glinted murderously and whose glares had only been deterred by her guards' hard-eyed presence. She had no idea what she had done to deserve their animosity, for she had been studiously polite to everyone she met. These people, it seemed, were as strange as the man they served. She sighed and headed back towards her apartment.
The following morning, just as she finished dressing in a pale blue one-piece suit trimmed with grey, the apartment door chimed. She hurried to press the button that opened it, and found the two guards on her doorstep.
One stated in a gruff voice, "The Shrike will see you now."
Rayne wondered if the thrill that raced down her spine at his words was terror or excitement, deciding it was probably a bit of both. She followed them along several uniform grey corridors at a brisk march before being whisked up several floors in a high-speed lift. It seemed that she was in the same building, but she was not sure, for the route was confusing and the scenery monotonous.
The guards stopped outside a door and stepped aside as the portal slid open. She took a deep breath and walked in with all the confidence she could muster. Most of it drained away at the sight of the tall masked man who stood gazing out of a massive window. When he turned to face her, she found her mouth dry and her knees weak. Her eyes flinched from the mask.
The Shrike gestured to a chair with a gloved hand, and she sank into it. Four soft cream chairs were arranged around a low, polished red wood table in the centre of a plush room decorated in pale grey and soft blue. A bank of huge windows overlooked the gleaming white and green city. Tarke walked over and sank into a seat opposite, the table between them.
"So, the frightened slave girl has now become what? An Atlantean messenger? A spy?" His soft voice made her shiver. "Few dare to seek me out, and even fewer have the temerity to come to one of my bases. What makes you so bold?"
She gulped, brave words dying on her tongue. Several seconds passed in silence, while she cursed her blank mind.
"What happened to Elliadaren?" he murmured.
"It was attacked… by an Envoy." To her relief, his words kick-started her brain, and her voice was steady.
"Who told you that?"
"My guide, an entity called Endrix."
"Go on."
"I've been there. I've seen the remains of the Crystal Ship that carried the Envoy to your world." Words tumbled off her tongue in a nervous flood. "Your people were suffering terribly when you found them. You were forced to kill them. There was nothing else you could do. The Envoy came from another universe. He fed on your people's suffering. Another is coming to Atlan, and I have to stop him."
The Shrike was silent for several moments, his emotions guarded. "I never had a name for the monster that tortured my people. What else do you know about this Envoy?"
"Not a lot. They're patriarchal, cannibalistic and sadistic. He controls the Crystal Ship, and forces it to use its telepathic ability to inflict pain on his victims. He and his minions feed on the pain of others."
"But you didn't come here just to tell me this."
"No. I need your help. Endrix told me to seek you out. He said you would help me."
He tilted his head. "Why should I help you?"
"You don't want the Atlanteans to fall. You said so yourself."
"That's true, which is why I killed Drevina and her brother."
She gasped. "You did that?"
"I thought it would throw the Draycons into confusion long enough for this situation with you to blow over or resolve itself. Otherwise they would have tried to interfere again, and next time they might have succeeded."
Rayne
stared at him, longing to tear off the horrible mask. He seemed hostile, and she knew she trod on thin ice, for he could have her removed from his base any time he chose. She decided to be blunt.
"Will you help me?"
"That depends. Who is this Endrix, and why did he tell you to come to me for help? What do I have that Atlan can't offer?"
"I don't know what, or who he is. I've never seen him. All I know is he's in the huge black ship that can use the transfer Net to transport itself instantly. He saw what you did to Elliadaren. He understood why you did it, as I do. I saw it through his memories. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like to be forced to make that kind of decision, and I'm sorry about what happened."
He stood up, making her tense, but he only walked back to the window and stared out. "That was a long time ago."
"I'm sure the memories haven't faded."
"No, they haven't. I knew they were all going to die, but to share in that wordless agony was a thing no one should have to endure. The silence that fell after the bombs exploded was like… paradise, after the torture of their pain."
"You should have told the Atlanteans why you did it."
He gave a soft snort. "Do you think they would have believed me?"
It all made terrible, tragic sense as the last pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "So you became a slaver, because you were already condemned to death, and nothing mattered anymore."
"Don't try to analyse me." He turned to face her. "What do you want?"
"Endrix says I need a ship, and only one of yours will be good enough."
He walked over to lean on the back of the chair beside her. "You want a ship? You expect me to just hand over a multi-million regal ship to you?" He laughed and shook his head. "You amaze me. Why don't the Atlanteans give you one? It's their necks you're supposed to save, not mine."
"If Atlan falls -"
"I know that. I told you, remember? Why must I give you a ship?"
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