Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars
Page 162
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.
&
nbsp; 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 away 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.
“Don’t hurt her, you son of a bitch.” Eyes narrowed, Tom moved closer, focussed on Iraku,, blaster trained on the rebel leader, poised to counter anything he might try.
Iraku circled to the side, away from the threat. Putting the knife to Andi’s rib cage, he pressed inward. Pain made her gasp as the point jabbed through her clothing, breaking her skin. “The woman dies if you come one step closer,” the rebel leader said.
Andi, dragged along with the Naranti as he moved, yanked her arm against his grasp. “Tom.” Iraku held the blade to her throat, silencing her.
Tom glanced her way over his leveled blaster for one searing second. All his love and fear for her lay in the tormented expression on his face. He shifted his gaze back to Iraku. “You won’t get away. Give it up. Just let her go. Let her go, and I let you go. Simple.”
“Simple indeed.” Iraku held Andi closer to him, arm wrapped around her waist. He stood so tall and strong, he clutched her like a rag doll, her feet barely touching the dirt. “And, of course, you’ll let me go back to my people, go on with my business?”
“Your business is no concern of mine. She is.” Tom sounded so calm, his voice level, matter of fact.
“Even if my business is disrupting the entire planet and taking control of Zulaire for my Clan?” Iraku’s voice sounded harsh, sneering. Andi couldn’t see his face, but she could imagine the way his lips would be pursed and his eyes would gleam. She’d seen that expression all too many times. He was savoring his power, the way he’d enjoyed humiliating the lesser servants at every opportunity. “I find it hard to believe you don’t care about Zulaire and my holy war, Captain Deverane. What about your superior officers?”
“The Sectors doesn’t give a damn what your three Clans do to each other. If you kill her, though, you’ll bring a firestorm down. Once you force the Sectors to get involved, no power on Zulaire can stop us from obliterating the Naranti. We’ll crush your people and turn the planet into a wasteland.” His voice was hard, making a promise not a threat. Tom’s eyes were narrowed, jaw clenched.
“If she’s so important, she goes with me as my safeguard.” Iraku backed up a few more feet, dragging Andi with him. The sharp edge of the knife scored her skin, and she flinched, biting her chapped, sp
lit lip.
“Like hell she goes with you. So you can kill her at your leisure later? I’m not some dumb trooper fresh off the first transport, pal.” Tom centered the blaster’s aim at Iraku’s head.
Her captor’s grip on the knife at her throat never slackened. Andi fought to get her breathing under control. Be ready, don’t panic. Tom would help her find a way to break free, to save herself.
Tom permitted himself one more rapid, anguished look at her. His hold on the blaster wavered, the barrel dipping for a second. Lords of Space, he does love me. It’s all there in his eyes. Andi felt warmth flow over her, loosening her tight muscles, calming her racing thoughts.
Iraku’s arm tensed around her waist. “Throw down your weapon, Captain. I’ll walk with Miss Markriss to my vehicle, slow and easy. You’ll follow us but keep your hands visible at all times. I’ll release her and drive away unmolested. Agreed? After all, your only desire is her life, right?”
Iraku must really feel in control of this entire situation, if he’s using such a mocking tone to Tom with a blaster aimed at his head.
Iraku exerted a fraction more pressure on the knife, the edge digging into her skin painfully until warm blood trickled down her neck. “I’m not ready to be a martyr. I do my people and my cause no good if I sacrifice my life for the pleasure of killing this worthless woman.”
Straightening out of his stance, Tom clicked the safety on his blaster and dropped it to the parched ground by his feet. Bouncing once, the weapon came to rest against a clump of stalks. He put his hands up, palms facing Iraku.
No, no. What is he doing? Andi moaned wordlessly in protest.
Iraku glanced at the blaster, then back at Tom. He nodded approval. “Good. So sensible, you outworlders. Now we walk.” He adjusted his arm upward, to encircle Andi’s chest.
Locked in this insane dance, she stumbled across the field, returning to the road. Maybe Tom has some backup plan. He must have something in mind. Tom shadowed them at a two-yard distance. Iraku’s knife never wavered from its position pressed against her throat. At the roadside, the rebel leader paused.