Suffrage (World Key Chronicles Book 1)

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Suffrage (World Key Chronicles Book 1) Page 17

by Julian St Aubyn Green


  Acid. A small part of his mind that wasn’t engaged with screaming his throat raw had known what was happening. As he lay helpless in the darkness, at the very edge of his consciousness, he felt the faintest skim of a mind unfamiliar to him.

  He had wanted to pass out as more chemical hell seeped through the concrete to touch his arms, his face, and drip into his screaming mouth. It tasted like strong vinegar for a moment before the burning sensation started. He could hear the sizzle as he tried to spit it out.

  His physical voice faltered. He was in such agony, with only his torso protected by the body of his sister and he did the only thing he could. Despite the tech in his head that would punish him for using his abilities, he projected his anguish into the mindscape with all the force and will he could muster. The answering lash of pain administered by the neurotransmitter in his cranium was just one more screaming voice in a hellish chorus of agony. He managed to focus in spite of it.

  His desperation and pain echoed across the mental landscape. A wolf’s howl spreading into the endless black ether. He reached further than ever before. For a mind. ‡Make it stop. Make it stop!‡ He wished for death, anything, to stop the pain.

  From the hellish black in both the physical and astral worlds, an answer.

  ‡I’m coming.‡

  It had been a mental voice of immense strength and determination; hidden behind the words, a terrible rage smoldered like a volcano.

  As the relentless burning continued, he had clutched at the connection through the mindscape, and felt the mind jump closer. All around him, he felt the broken concrete shift. He was lifted high into the air, the crushed remnants of the Facility forming a planet of pain with him at the center like a precious core.

  Telekinetic hands of extraordinary strength and control spun the debris, stopping the flow of acid. Other hands tore off chunks and tunneled to the core before cradling him. He grabbed Alpha in desperation, unwilling to let her fall. More pain in his arms as the acid that Alpha’s body had protected him against burned into his forearms. He wouldn’t let go. In the depths of his agony, he felt shielded from further harm as wet, smoking masonry fell away with a rumble.

  With his eyes closed against the pain, Delta had seen his rescuer in the mindscape, a god-like figure, surrounded by a strange mental shield that pulsed and wavered around him.

  Another mind had been present in the mindscape as well, curiously slick. As he opened his eyes, he saw the pair of them. His rescuer stood straight and tall in white and gold robes, his eyes angry and intense. The other, dressed in azure and silver, with a stylized compass rose on his chest, rested his hands on his knees and breathed heavily. The man in white and gold turned and broadcast in a tone of absolute authority.

  ‡Heinrich, take him to Ilya. Now.‡

  Heinrich paced inside his antechamber despite his lingering extension weakness. The dizzy spells and shaking were a familiar experience since the destruction of his key and he hated it. He felt empty and no amount of pacing succeeded in grounding him. Like The Songstress, he would recover physically and soon be ready to be back on the hunt.

  Stinking Rebels. The audacity of their plan rankled. However, what truly left a sour taste in his mouth was the knowledge that the Rebels used the information inscribed on his key to attempt this daring mission.

  The Songstress should never have been damaged in the first place. The prince was a sniveling brat unprepared to accept personal responsibility, but he was right that he couldn’t have expected that one of the Rebels was a Gifted. Between Mr. Delta and Mycroft’s letter confirming he started ‘a breeding program’ to produce psychics, Heinrich could only draw one conclusion. Another child, in addition to Mr. Delta, survived the attack on Mycroft’s Facility and was stolen by the Rebels.

  “Thalia,” Heinrich called, halting his pacing and clasping his hands together behind his back.

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “Have Mr. Delta attend me here. I need to speak to him,” he commanded before throwing himself into a chair.

  “Of course, Sire. He’s sleeping in his quarters. Are you ready for an operational report while you wait for Mr. Delta?”

  “Fine.”

  “Shields are now fully functional against kinetic attack, Your Majesty. We remain weak to high intensity energetic attack at this time due to the damage to the secondary capacitor array. Countess Anna lacks the components to perform repairs. Systems tests of the transfer core indicate a stable quantum tag is now possible. The aft gunnery crew completed the countess’s work to create a substitute forward gunnery platform and utilized the weapons systems from the disassembled attack craft to create a less powerful cannonade system. The countess assigned a replacement crew to staff the new position, but the aft gunnery placement remains our strongest weapons system at this time. Smaller placements of the remaining attack craft weapons are now positioned alongside the port and starboard light placements. They can be manned by any crew in the event of an attack, and flight crews have been assigned to those stations.”

  “Thank you Thalia. So, all in all, we would seem to be a match for any conventional attacks this realm can throw at us. Excellent,” Heinrich declared.

  “Yes Sire,” the AI acknowledged.

  Now to think about unconventional attacks. Mycroft could rip this ship apart with a thought; not that any offspring would have his strength. This damned Gifted could still be a problem. They showed that in Rio. I’ll have to use the prince if he can be trusted. Conserve my strength.

  Since the staff meeting with Prince Ahmed, Mr. Delta periodically eavesdropped on the son of the Dragon at his command. Whilst he considered the prince’s discomfort and show of obedience adequate, he couldn’t help but suspect the ambitious prince would be sorely tempted by the glittering prize here in this version of reality.

  He didn’t like hosting someone of the prince’s character aboard his vessel. A crew needed to trust one another and follow orders. They had to know that each member would support all others, not stab them in the back if it was to their own benefit. If he assessed the character of the prince correctly, it was only a matter of time before the upstart attempted such a betrayal. If he costs me the Rebels, I will snatch his head from his shoulders myself.

  At the door chime, Heinrich gave the command that made the door open and glanced over to see Mr. Delta enter. After stepping in, the masked man bowed deeply. “You sent for me, Your Majesty?”

  “Indeed.” Heinrich waved an invitation for Mr. Delta to sit. As the man did so and adjusted his robes with fidgeting hands, Heinrich leaned forward. “Where do you think the Rebels managed to get their hands on a Gifted?”

  Delta licked his lips behind the mask, running his ruined tongue over his equally ruined lips. He shifted into a more comfortable position and his eyes focused on the luxurious carpet.

  For the last ten years, he’d dreaded this question. It had taken him six months to fully recover with Queen Ilya’s help after the events at the Facility. Six months in which he’d fought to repress all the memories of what had occurred there before being returned to King Mycroft’s care.

  To his infinite relief, his father never asked him what occurred. Delta barely saw him before being whisked away for training. In ten years, he’d only felt the presence of his father’s mind twice. Both times Mycroft mind-touched the world, Delta forged the hardest mindshield he could muster. One mind among billions was a speck of sand in the mindscape. He never knew what his father was searching for.

  And he’d never shared the secret of Alpha’s last foretelling. That Juliet was alive and that one day he would meet his sister again. It was the only secret he had.

  Yet, how could he avoid such a direct question? Delta didn’t need to skim Heinrich to know what he suspected. It wouldn’t have worked anyway.

  Delta recognized Juliet’s mind in Rio. That briefest of touches when she’d dropped her shields completely and funneled all the emotions in the mindscape through herself and into the prince.
Only his weak Gift of precognition had alerted him to the danger.

  As the silence stretched out, Delta struggled. His training did not allow for disobedience, but now, some part of him didn’t want to answer. This secret was his.

  “Your Majesty. I’m not the best person to answer that question. I’m sure King Barrett could answer you.” Delta was glad for the mask that concealed his deformed visage and slackening of his facial muscles as his neural tech sent a small electrical shock, not unlike a petit mal seizure. It was the smallest of warning measures.

  The king frowned, tilting his head to one side. “You didn’t answer,” he said slowly, tapping his finger thoughtfully against the armrest of his chair.

  Delta felt sweat prickle along his spine.

  “It’s the truth, Your Majesty.” He tried not to wince as a spike of molten lead hammered its way from his implants out to his left eye. It took everything he had to remain still and not claw at his face.

  “A Gifted Rebel is an abomination that I will not tolerate, Mister Delta. Given that the Rebel appears to be one of Mycroft’s children, I cannot help but conclude that you have some knowledge of their existence.”

  He didn’t ask a question. Delta remained silent and tried to hold the cold blue gaze of the king and failed.

  “I see. How interesting. You do not want to tell me. Whoever this Rebel is, they are your sibling. Perhaps you feel you should protect them because of that.”

  His treacherous head nodded imperceptibly before he could stop it as his eyes met the king’s. The ice in Heinrich’s gaze froze him.

  “They are a Rebel. You know the punishment for that. You are going to tell me everything you know.”

  “Please, Your Majesty. Don’t force me t—”

  As the king spoke the code words that stole his free will and commanded him to speak, Delta grimaced in pain. Beyond the physical pain, he felt something small and precious inside his mind cry like a wounded animal.

  “Her name is Juliet.” As her name spilled out of his mouth, some small part of him raged, but wasn’t strong enough to stop the words against the pain. Tears spilled from his eyes as the words were pulled from him.

  “Thalia. What’s the progress on the Rebel trace?” Heinrich questioned as Mr. Delta left. He’d filled the Gifted’s head with precise instructions after enforcing his commands with the neural code words.

  “Trace should complete in the next twenty minutes, Your Majesty. If I succeed in infiltrating the satellite system around the planet, we will be able to cut down the trace time significantly,” Thalia replied, her ghostly avatar floating in tandem alongside the pacing form of the king.

  “Keep working on that. If we can shorten the trace period, they won’t be able to effectively hide. We can run them to ground that much faster. Send a message to the crew to prepare for transfer as soon as the trace is complete. I want to leave this jungle heat behind and get back on the hunt.” He turned towards his bedroom.

  Opening the door quietly he strode through, his boots making no noise on the thick, plush carpet that surrounded the four-poster bed. Pulling back the curtains, he looked down.

  The countess was asleep, long blond hair cascading across the blue silk pillows, a river of gold on an ocean of azure. She’d worked herself to exhaustion repairing the ship as quickly as possible. Directing people and drones constantly over two days of frenetic effort had taken its toll.

  Supported by stim packs and coffee until her shoulders sagged, she’d barely been able to form coherent sentences when he first asked her to report. He demanded she sleep, then made it a Royal command when she balked.

  Even so, he needed her awake when they resumed the hunt. If any system failed, he’d need her. He sat on the bed, one hand caressing her shoulder as she awoke with a less-than-decorous groan that sounded like complaint. She opened bleary, green eyes and smiled at him before smacking her lips with a soft sound.

  “Don’t kiss me, I’ve got dragon breath,” she muttered, covering her mouth.

  Heinrich almost smiled. “You know, I’m sure Mahmoot hates that expression. That might get you a whipping in his realm,” he replied before leaning in and kissing her on the cheek.

  Anna blushed and sat up, the blue satin sheets falling away as she stretched luxuriously. Her hands brushed her tousled blond curls away from her heart-shaped face.

  The king enjoyed her in such situations. In private moments, she revealed a femininity that was at odds with the efficient, almost-mechanical exterior she presented to the crew.

  Anna caught him looking and a lascivious smile curled her lips. “Was there something you wanted, Your Majesty?” she teased, reaching for a glass of water by the bed and just happening to brush the side of her breast against his arm.

  Heinrich smiled indulgently. She always took every opportunity to entice him in private. “Trace is almost complete. We’ll be heading out soon. I’ll need you at your station.”

  She pouted before taking a sip of water. “No time to …?”

  Heinrich shook his head. He still felt the woozy effect of overexertion. As nice as a pleasant romp would be, he felt his true age.

  “I’ll meet you on the bridge. It’s time to find these Rebels and make them bleed,” he declared fiercely before rising.

  Anna didn’t appear to take the refusal as rejection. Nodding, she slid across the satin sheets and headed for the bathing room. She swayed her hips seductively as she walked, glancing back over her shoulder. Her green eyes held promises for later almost hidden in that golden hair, before the door closed behind her.

  Heinrich sighed as he exited his chambers, the drone at the door following in his wake like an obedient metal guard dog. I shouldn’t have let it get this far with her. He had needs, he was human after all, but he was broken inside. He knew what she wanted him to be, he recognized the symptoms of her growing infatuation. She would want more than the casual sexual relationship they currently shared. There was heartbreak in her future if she ever pushed him on the matter. He’d send her away, despite her usefulness to the ship and personal loyalty to him.

  She’s as stubborn as she is intelligent. Perhaps she reasoned that if she remained near him long enough things might change between them. She didn’t know it was an impossible dream. His wife was unique. When she and the boys died, the darkness consumed him. He could never have that special emotional connection again.

  As Anna left the bathing quarters with a towel wrapped around her, a man in the king’s chambers startled her. He was bending over the large bed, stripping the sheets and pillowcases.

  “What, how dare you—” She faltered as the man turned his ascetic face towards her, his expression bland yet intimidating. She recognized Ernst, the king’s adjutant.

  He appeared unruffled to find her in an undressed state. His accent consisted of thick Teutonic enunciation, full of rich intonation and a speech pattern that clearly didn’t bother to change for English. But his speech was impeccable. Likely one of the older servants who didn’t speak the Monarch’s English as a first tongue. She found it strange that Heinrich would tolerate such behavior in one of his most trusted servants.

  “Pardons, Countess. The könig has not left his quarters in some time. I took the opportunity to clean. I have laid out your uniform.” He gestured towards the garment draped over the settee.

  “You think that excuses you barging into the king’s chambers?” Anna adjusted the towel to attempt more coverage, leaving the scowl of disapproval on her face.

  The man gave a short nod, his eyes understanding but hard. “The könig specified that I clean his quarters myself, as I have done for many years.”

  “I highly doubt he meant for you to clean them while I am here. Get out.” She moved towards the uniform.

  “Nein.” He returned to his task with precise movements.

  “What? I told you to leave. I am a countess.” She felt her face flush with anger.

  “And I am marquis.” He continued with his task, only loo
king over long enough to meet her eyes briefly. “And I know the könig likes order over all else. He does not care for drama. Tell him if you wish. You would soon be gone, yet I will remain.”

  Anna froze in shock. Two years as part of the crew and she’d never known this unassuming man, who acted the part of furniture, outranked her. Or that he is such a cold bastard.

  “What do you mean I will be gone? I maintain this ship.” She stepped forward into his personal space.

  Ernst sighed as if she was annoying him, though his expression remained impassive. How dare he! She bristled, fists balling up with the desire to punch him as he looked down his pointed nose at her.

  “You think this makes you irreplaceable? He is a könig. For many years, Empress Yoshimoto’s smartest people served in your position. A great honor. You are here because of me.”

  Anna recoiled slightly in her confusion. Pushing all that to the side, her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  The majordomo straightened, meeting her gaze. The silence stretched uncomfortably between them before Ernst nodded. “Thalia.” The AI materialized. To Anna’s surprise, the hologram didn’t appear in her normal form. She knew that only a few specified crew could summon the AI by vocal command, but she’d thought only the king had control over the AI’s appearance.

  His accent took on a definitively authoritative tone with heavy emphasis on Anna not mattering in the least in the scenario. “I decide who is crew. I sent for you. Attractive. Intelligent. Determined. The qualities the könig looks for. I do this to see if he can feel. A test. To see if he’s ready to regain the man he once was. You’re just the latest in a long line, Countess. The first, when she fell in love with him, she have the drama. He was not ready to heal and sent her away.”

  The older man stepped forward, his presence far more intimidating than his stature. Anna backed into the settee. “She did not take it well. She … pushed. She heard the könig was going to holiday at the Blue Palace. She bribed a guard, sneaked into his chambers. Heinrich had her and the guard executed. So, make drama, if you wish. But he does not care about you. Want to know why?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting her to ask the question.

 

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