by Paul Darrow
“That’s easier said than done,” Reiss replied coolly.
“We can but try.” Vasht sighed.
Blanca spoke once more. “There remains one other matter,” he said, malevolence matched with curiosity in his tone. “It occurs to me that there is more to this business with Rogue Avon than meets the eye.”
Everyone’s attention concentrated on Reiss.
Avon’s half-brother smiled and it was as if a cloud had smothered the sun and the temperature had dropped several degrees. “As far as I am concerned,” he said, “this wasn’t business. It was strictly personal!”
2
Vasht and Blanca co-opted Pel Gros onto the High Council. Makarov, whom neither fully trusted, was offered and dared not refuse the control of the military on Saturn. Neither Gros nor Reiss seemed prepared to speak up for him and support his bid for a higher position.
The cripple spoke bitterly to Reiss. “Why should Gros be puffed up, while I am exiled to the far regions?”
Reiss attempted to placate him. “You will be our eyes and ears on Saturn. Our early warning system for when the trouble begins. As it surely will.”
“You promised me better than this.”
Reiss rounded on him. “Vasht despises you. Worse, she fears you. Your influence with the army has not been overlooked. It was stupid of you to assume that, once she achieved power, she could bring herself to trust you.”
Makarov struck his hands against the wheels of his chair. “I was crippled in the wars she fought against the old regime. Long before the wars for Uranus raised her so high. I deserve more than she deigns to offer.”
Reiss sighed. “She could have you killed. With Gros on the Council, with me behind you, she won’t dare. Be thankful for small mercies.”
“I feel betrayed,” Makarov whined.
Reiss knelt beside the wheelchair and looked into his eyes. “Grow old on Saturn,” he said. “Be my antennae. There’s nothing for you here.”
“What will you do?”
Reiss smiled thinly. “Blanca will need watching. He will be reluctant to forgive us for allowing Avon to kill his lover. I’ve taken steps to placate him, but I’ll still have to be careful. Of course, if I’m right about the mood of our people, the Council may have to call on me. Blanca will be obliged to go along with the general consensus. When I’m called, I’ll call for you.
“Meanwhile, I want you to trace Avon’s movements. I want to know the name of everybody with whom he came into contact. Will you do that?”
Makarov nodded. “What was there about the man? Why were you so obsessed with the hunt for him?”
“We shared the same mother.”
Makarov looked startled, frowned and pursed his lips. “You mean that the full resources of the Federation were activated so that you could pursue a personal vendetta?”
Reiss smiled at him. “More or less.”
“The hurt must run very deep.”
Reiss’s smile faded.
Makarov shook his head wearily. “I find it difficult enough to cope with you as a friend. I should despair if you ever became my enemy,” he said with feeling.
Reiss stood. “I’ll arrange for your transportation to Saturn. Remember what I have asked of you.”
“I will.”
Reiss watched as the older man wheeled himself away. When he had gone, he turned on his heel and walked from the corridor in which their conversation had taken place and re-entered the Council chamber room.
Vasht was standing alone by one of the tall windows. It was wide open and a breeze from outside was ruffling her long red hair. It flattened her silk dress against her body, so emphasizing her superb figure.
Reiss stood beside her and looked out over the forbidding mountains. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely.
“For nothing,” she replied.
“On the contrary! You have removed Makarov from any sphere of influence. You have provided Blanca with an alternative to the Martian. Between us we have altered Council policy to your advantage and to my satisfaction.”
“You really think that Gros is an adequate replacement for Pruth?”
“I assure you, his tastes are exotic. The White Cobra will take great pleasure in the black velvet mole.”
Vasht laughed. But it was a hollow laugh that echoed through the chamber. She turned and placed her hand at a point just below Reiss’s waist. She looked deep into his eyes for a reaction. There was none. She removed her hand.
Reiss walked away and sat on the edge of the magnificent desk. He stared up at the painting on the wall. He smiled to himself.
Vasht stood at his shoulder. “Rogue is dead. Surely it is all over?”
Reiss’s long black lashes hooded his eyes. “Not until every trace of him has been removed from the Universe.”
She placed an arm around him. Almost immediately, he stood, shrugging her off. She pouted at him. “What shall I do with his head?” she asked.
Reiss laughed.
“Where will you go now?” she pressed.
“To the Graveyard. That was where Avon gave us the slip after he had killed the Martian. The Guardian may have something to tell me.”
The breeze had become a wind and gusts plucked at the heavy velvet curtains that hung by the high windows. It rattled a crystal chandelier attached to the ornate ceiling.
Vasht shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she rocked to and fro on the edge of the desk, like a lonely child suffering from lack attention and lost in her own thoughts. In a way, that’s exactly what she was.
Reiss, himself thoughtful, suddenly became aware of the gusting wind and closed the shutters. “Eerie, isn’t it?” he said. “Here we are at the heart of the Federation body and there is silence. It is as if the heart has stopped beating.”
Vasht dragged herself out of her reverie and assumed a businesslike tone. “The Full Council is scheduled to meet here tomorrow,” she said, “to decide policy with regard to the fresh air of liberalism that seems to be pervading the atmosphere. The heart will beat strongly enough then.”
Reiss sighed. “It’s always the same. If you don’t have a war or some other crisis, the people get bored and seek out a cause on which to expend their surplus energy. Suddenly, they become obsessed with a will o’ the wisp called Freedom.”
“Freedom from what?”
“The Federation. You and people like you. People like me, I suppose. They’ll never really achieve it, of course. After all, the Federation, to coin a phrase, is the only game in town.”
”In the Universe.”
“Whatever!” Reiss said with a shrug.
“Go now,” Vasht told him, “and try to stay alive.”
Reiss looked once more at the painting on the wall. “What is it called?” he asked.
“The Garden of Earthly Delights.”
Reiss laughed, his amusement quite genuine. “Whoever painted it certainly had a sense of humour.”
Vasht frowned. She failed to see the joke.
3
During the course of three centuries, the Earth had been a battleground. Wars between races and nations had devastated its land masses, polluted its seas and atmosphere, decimated its population. Only a small part of the world remained habitable.
The humanoids who survived looked to other known planets for living space, for the key to their future.
Gradually, some sort of order was restored out of the awful chaos. An order based on the family system.
Nine families, their servants, their kinsmen, their bastards and their armies formed “The Federation.”
Suspicious, superstitious, sometimes aggressive, the families only supported each other in the pursuit of conquest and in schemes that were mutually beneficial.
Reiss was a member of one of the families, Vasht of another.
As the Federation expanded into a Universal Empire, conquered races from Mars, Neptune, all the planets, were adopted, as it were.
Apart from coalitions in time of war or when some
catastrophe threatened, the families rarely mixed. Only at the High Council table did their powerful representatives indulge in social intercourse.
Sometimes, two or more of the families joined forces against others that they considered too greedy or ambitious. Each family had a “business,” and jealously guarded its interests.
The Gros family controlled drug manufacture, Vasht’s built the spacecraft that flew them to the stars, Reiss’s father had dealt in gold.
The only time it could be said that the families were truly at peace was when their various members were dead. Then they met in another place—the Graveyard.
It was from here that Rogue Avon had set out on his fateful journey to Earth and it was here that Reiss came to enquire after him.
The black Guardian, Mishka, received him cautiously. Conscious of Reiss’s rank and reputation, Mishka feared him. Not without cause.
They walked through the same mortuary that Avon had visited and Mishka showed Reiss the empty Pod bay from where his visitor’s enemy had been launched.
“You say he forced you at gunpoint to do what he asked?” Reiss enquired sceptically.
“Yes.”
“He was surely a forceful man.”
“Yes.”
“You’re a liar!”
Mishka froze beneath Reiss’s icy glare. Then, he relaxed, prepared to accept any fate. “Yes.”
Reiss smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I can understand that you might have admired him. Seen in him something you wish you had in yourself.”
“I envied him,” Mishka said. “He was free.”
Reiss thought for a moment. “Yes. I suppose, in a way, he was.”
“He’s dead.” Mishka stated rather than questioned.
“Did he mention my name?” Reiss asked casually.
“No”
“Are you sure?”
“It was I who mentioned it.”
Reiss’s eyebrows rose. “Did you indeed? And what was his reaction?”
“It seemed as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. As if, at last, he understood something of great significance.”
“In what connection did you mention my name?”
“The families were quarreling over the spoils of the wars for Uranus. This was common knowledge. You figured largely in the quarrel.” He permitted himself a wry smile. “You overhear quite a lot when you are burying the relatives of the powerful.”
Reiss smiled back at him. “Yes, I suppose you do.”
“Of course,” Mishka added hastily, “I have no one with whom to discuss matters. I am alone here.”
“How do you bear it?”
“How do you?” the Guardian asked perceptively.
Reiss nodded his approval of the question, but was clearly not prepared to answer it. Instead, he said, “You should be advised that there is likely to be an increased demand for your services.”
A shrill whining sound interrupted them.
“That’s a signal that I am about to receive a message,” Mishka said. “It’s probably from one of the families.”
Both men returned to the Guardian’s living space where he extracted a disc from the console that housed his communication system. He studied it. “It’s for you.” he said.
He showed Reiss how to work the machine, then indicated that he would leave the room to ensure Reiss’s privacy
The machine activated, a voice said, “This is Sabbath.”
“Well?”
“I thought you should know that there is a woman, recently arrived on Saturn from the Raphael system. She has become associated with the surgeon, Pi Grant. What is significant is that I cannot trace her background. What is more significant is that she has enquired—discreetly, it must be admitted—about Rogue Avon.”
Reiss’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
“She is accompanied by her young son.”
“Name?”
“She is called Rowena. He is Kerguelen. The woman claims she was raped and never really knew the boy’s father. However, we know that Avon ran from Uranus and entered the Raphael complex. It’s an interesting coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidence,” Reiss said. “Of which family is Grant a member?”
“Of the Gros. Drugs. He is clearly putting his expertise to a humanitarian use. He’s highly thought of, very rich, a touch liberal.”
“Then he will become acquainted with Makarov?”
“Certainly.”
“Doubtless, the woman will try to milk him of information concerning my half-brother. Tell me about the boy.”
Sabbath chuckled. “Strangely, he looks a lot like you!”
4
If they were similar in no other way than in their family resemblance, Reiss shared with Rogue Avon an enduring quality—patience.
His vassal on Saturn—Sabbath—regularly reported to him on Rowena’s activities and informed him of the boy’s progress. He also passed on information concerning the other Grants.
Most interestingly, he sent Reiss a secret medical report of Anna’s visit to an independent psychoanalyst. It revealed that the girl was unstable. That there was a tiny element in her brain that unbalanced her judgment. The condition was being treated with drugs that were addictive. Reiss decided to use this information for his advantage.
When Del Grant left Saturn Major for the Iron School, Anna accompanied him on part of his journey in order to visit Titan, Jupiter’s moon. It was there that she and Reiss became acquainted.
Later, when Makarov died, Reiss became deeply suspicious of the manner of his death and ordered Sabbath to conduct a private autopsy. Very faint traces of the toxic substance that Rowena had used to destroy her enemy were at last discovered.
Reiss was impressed. He had viewed holograms of the woman and admired her beauty. Now he found himself admiring her cunning and determination.
He took a keen interest in the boy and used any influence he had to ensure his successful progress. He smiled when notified of Kerr’s unusual talents.
Only when the young man he had become convinced was Rogue Avon’s son was ready to transfer to Earth, did Axel Reiss act.
He commanded that Sabbath destroy the entire Grant household at Saturn Major. Gave him carte blanche as to how this should be accomplished. Only Anna, he instructed, must be preserved.
Through her developing years, he had taken note of her growing relationship with Kerguelen.
On the eve of Rowena’s destruction, almost on a whim, he decided he must see this woman for himself.
So it was that he, the instrument of her fall, was present at her death.
Subsidiaries attended Anna Grant before the blood orgy began. Through Sabbath, Reiss had ensured that she would become his creature for, unknown to any member of her family, the Coordinator had supplied her with an excess of the drugs to which she was rapidly becoming addicted. His task had not proved difficult. Socially acceptable as a means of relaxation and as aids to pleasure, hard drugs were easily obtainable. It was but a short step for Anna from simple pleasure to craven addiction.
Having seduced the young woman so that she might serve his purpose and shared with her Rowena’s savage end, he now turned his attention to the young man—Kerr Avon.
In pitying the Anna who, in a drugged haze, giggled uncontrollably at the terrible sights he had set before her, it never occurred to Reiss that he might be deserving of a greater pity.
Through the years, he had nurtured his obsessional hatred of his half-brother.
Throughout the years, he had determinedly plotted to blot out every trace of his kin’s existence.
Throughout the years, he appeared, to all intents and purposes, to maintain an admirable sanity.
In truth, the pain and tension of those years had driven him to madness.
5
Reiss took Anna Grant to Earth and entrusted her to Vasht’s care.
He dispatched Sabbath to the Iron School to inform “Kerr Grant” of his family tragedy. The Coordinat
or had been instructed to place blame on dissidents with revolutionary ideals. He was to promise that retribution would be swift and sure. It would not be difficult to extract a “confession” from any number of Federation political prisoners.
In addition, Sabbath was to remain at the school as an instructor and, at the same time, observe Kerr’s temperament and assess his abilities.
Reiss, each day bringing him greater control over Anna so that he could bend her to his will, promised her a reunion with her lover.
He viewed the prospect with relish. It would not be sufficient just to kill the youth. He must be manipulated and humiliated first.
Vasht was distressed by the clear alteration in Reiss’s character. Well convinced of his cruelty and ruthlessness in the service of the Federation, she was alarmed by the revelation of the hitherto untapped depths of his malice.
She walked with him in the summer gardens of the castle of Lupus. Fountains sprayed ice cold water, fed to them by the mountains, on the surfaces of many ornamental pools. The scent of every imaginable flower filled the air.
“I feel like the consort of the Devil, strolling with him through the Garden of Eden,” Vasht said, attempting to lighten Reiss’s mood. He merely scowled.
Vasht touched his arm. “Leave it alone, Axel! Either that, or finish it now and forever!”
“When I’m ready and not before!”
“Of course,” Vasht whispered to him, “Kerr Avon may finish you! I wonder if that is what you really want?”
Reiss replaced his scowl with a wry smile. “It’s an interesting thought. It suggests that I can control my own fate. Temper the instrument of my destruction.”
Vasht attempted to embrace him, but he pushed her away.
Much vexed, she said, “You forget. I know what Rogue did to you.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Does that mean that, in order to erase the memory, I will have to die too?”