“We’ll have to leave the shuttle in a commuter lot and take one of the trams. A few of the larger buildings can facilitate a shuttle landing, but we’re trying not to draw attention to ourselves.”
Years of training had taught her to be suspicious. She was in a strange world with little information and no recourse. Lyrik was not just her best chance, he was her only chance. Still, her mind wouldn’t accept his decisions without question.
“Isn’t your insignia on the side of the shuttle?”
“I morphed it into a common commercial logo, but how did you know what it was?”
Saebin shot him an impatient look. “Something made the miners think this was your shuttle. I noticed the design when we boarded. Don’t let the implants fool you, Commander. My brain still functions.” He chuckled in response to her surly comment, which only compounded her annoyance. He’d been calm and collected since they left the Day Moon. She’d repeatedly asked their destination. He’d only say they were going to visit a friend. “Are these garments going to draw attention to us?”
“They shouldn’t. Uniforms aren’t that unusual. Besides, if push comes to shove, Father can pinpoint my location with a simple scan.”
“How is that possible?”
“During the induction process at the City of Tears every cadet is injected with a micryte.”
“I’m not familiar with that term.” She fidgeted in her chair, tugging on the safety restraints. Her chair held her captive next to a man who disturbed her in ways she couldn’t comprehend. His voice caused her insides to quiver and her pulse to race. She couldn’t forget how it felt with his mouth moving over hers or his long, lean body spread beneath her as she ground her mound against his shaft. Why did her body still ache if she’d dispersed the overload?
“It’s a microscopic chip encoded with basic information about the person ... medical alerts, next of kin, that sort of thing.”
“And this micryte can be scanned from the Day Moon?” She didn’t care nearly as much about the micryte as she needed something to distract her wayward thoughts.
He nodded, his attention momentarily absorbed with the shuttle controls.
“What’s to keep an enemy from accessing the information?”
“Micrytes are activated with a very specific signal. If the disk is scanned with a counterfeit signal it dissolves. There is only one scanner able to access the information, and it’s on the Day Moon.”
They lapsed into silence as he finalized their destination and guided the shuttle onto a landing pad. “Alignment acceptable. Please offload here. Your transport will be stowed in slip B-226.” A synthesized voice offered the information.
“This lot is automated.” He smiled and released the controls. “That’s why I chose it. When we go through the hatch, stand directly behind me, and keep your head down. As long as the security system imprints one or the other of us, it’s programmed to let us pass.”
“This will tell your father exactly where we are.” She released the safety restraints and stood.
“No, this will tell my father exactly where I am.”
“A fact he can determine with a simple scan.”
“Exactly.” She used his broad back as a shield until the security system had imprinted his facial characteristics. He reached back and took her hand, drawing her forward as they walked beyond the security station. Rows and rows of shuttles lined the enclosed lot. Massive mechanisms maneuvered the transports around as if they were toys. Saebin had never seen anything like it.
“Is your friend expecting us?” They exited onto a shadowed walkway. The buildings had been impressive from the air, but Saebin craned her neck, barely able to see the narrow strip of sky still visible between the towering structures.
“I left a message. I’ll try again from the tram. Reception is terrible in the canyons.”
She rushed to keep pace with his long stride. People hurried past them, absorbed in their own activities. Many appeared to be talking to themselves, until Saebin realized they had communication devices hooked over their ears. “Are transmissions monitored all over the city?”
“The capability is there, but Frontine is massive. It would take the entire army to monitor every conversation.”
“Then why won’t you tell me where we’re going?”
His mouth curved in an enigmatic smile. “I guess I haven’t quite convinced myself that she is our only option.”
“Who is she? What is your hesitation?”
“She is Dro Tar Nex, and she has to be experienced to be believed.” He shrugged and released a muffled chuckle. “Maybe you won’t find her as ... unreal as most Ontarians find her. She ventured to Earth eleven cycles ago, and since then she’s become obsessed with everything Earthish. You’ve only recently come to Ontariese, so she may seem like the only person on the planet who isn’t unusual.”
Intrigued by his description, Saebin did her best to imagine what they would encounter once they arrived. The tram doors slid open, and they boarded the sleek alloy car. The interior was crowded, and Lyrik slipped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close against his side.
Her gaze flitted from passenger to passenger, her astonishment growing with each new face. Men. She was the only female aboard. A hush rippled through the men as they noticed her standing beside Lyrik. He moved in front of her and pulled her against his chest, wrapping both arms around her waist.
“Is she a relation or a companion?” someone asked.
“She is mine, until she says otherwise,” he replied without turning around.
Muffled conversations resumed, and the palpable tension eased somewhat. Lyrik had warned her about the disproportionate population, but she’d been unable to imagine the scenario he described. If Lyrik hadn’t claimed her, what would the others have done? She’d been surrounded by females at the Center. The pendulum had just swung in the opposite direction. Anxiety made her restless. She’d only gotten a cursory glance before Lyrik had become her living shield. Were they still staring? She’d never shared a space with so many men.
“Eye contact will only encourage them. It’s better this way.”
She nodded and turned around, leaning back against his chest. The tram sped through the canyons created by the towering buildings. It dipped below ground for a time before emerging into the meager sunlight again. By the time Lyrik announced that they were approaching the appropriate station, Saebin was dizzy.
“How do you know this Dro Tar Nex?” Saebin asked as they stepped off the tram.
“She would be quick to inform you there is only one Dro Tar and I met her through Trey.” She shot him a sidelong glance filled with confusion. “Trey is Krysta’s life mate.”
They entered one of the tall buildings and took a speed lift to the sixty-ninth floor. Lyrik chuckled as they exited the lift. “She doesn’t care where she lives, as long as her flat is on the sixty-ninth floor.”
Saebin had no idea what he found so amusing, so she said nothing more.
He stopped in front of an unmarked door. A discoloration in the surface indicated an apartment number might have been pried off. Lyrik activated the interior page with a voice command.
A moment passed. Lyrik reached for the trigger again when the door slid open. A woman stood framed in the threshold. Her short brown hair was tipped in gold and stood out from her head in unruly spikes. Her only garment appeared to be an oversized black tee shirt with bold white lettering that read: This is the shirt I wear when I just don’t give a shit.
She looked from Lyrik to Saebin and back. “Have I been naughty? What brings the big, bad warlord to my door?”
Chapter Seven
Ensley sat silently as Cyrus interacted with the holographic image of Pern Keire. Cyrus puffed out his chest and raised his chin. Did he really expect the Crown Stirate of Rodymia to be impressed with his bravado? The incoming transmission was encrypted and filtered, leaving Pern’s image blurred, his voice distorted.
“Our goals align quite well.�
�� Ensley wasn’t fooled by Pern’s bored tone. His reputation fascinated her. The fact that he intimidated the overlord aroused her. Cyrus might think himself powerful, but Pern was a true conqueror. “I must know that you are committed to this path. Once the demonstration is set in motion there will be no turning back.”
“I trust the design I delivered this morning is adequate proof of my dedication to our mutual goal.”
Each “I” Cyrus uttered made Ensley’s decision that much easier. Without her design Cyrus would have had nothing to offer the Rodytes. Much to Cyrus’s frustration, the Joint Council monitored his transmissions, so she’d contacted Pern from her flat. There would be no alliance without her, yet Cyrus focused solely on himself.
“I will feel more secure in our partnership once I have a working prototype,” the Stirate replied.
Cyrus inclined his head. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” Pern paused for effect. “I want the designer on my ship within the hour.”
“But --”
“The prototype can be built much faster if the designer oversees the project. This is not negotiable.”
Cyrus glanced at her, fear obvious in his expression. What a fool. Revealing any hint of weakness to a man like Pern Keire was an invitation for destruction. The incoming signal was distorted, but Pern could see Cyrus clearly.
“Give me just a moment, please,” Cyrus said and blocked the transmission.
Ensley tried to look suitably concerned. In truth she had contacted the Rodytes moments after finishing the design and arranged for this demand. All she’d needed was a foot in the door. Cyrus had served his purpose.
“You think you’re so smart.” He shook his head. “If you want to subject yourself to these animals, have at it. The Rodytes have no regard for women. You’ll be raped before they leave orbit. Is that what you want?”
“Abusing me would be rather counterproductive. Don’t you think?”
“Say the word, and I’ll call off the negotiations.” Ensley wasn’t swayed by his anxiety. He was scrambling for a way to salvage his stake in the deal. “We can sell the design to another buyer.”
Now it was “we.” She wanted to laugh. “They already have the design. You transmitted it this morning.”
“They are barbarians!”
“They are technologically advanced barbarians.” She sighed and averted her gaze. There would be plenty of time to gloat once she was aboard the Stirate’s ship. “I can progress no farther without their assistance. We really have no other choice.”
The holocom beeped demonstrating the Stirate’s impatience. Cyrus returned to his place in front of the transmitter and reactivated the feed. “I’m reluctant to part with the design and the designer. You must understand how --”
“This is nonnegotiable. I will send a shuttle for the designer. If it returns without him, our dealings are ended.” The image blinked out.
Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “Did you hear him? He presumes the designer is a man because women are treated like animals on Rodymia.”
“What choice do we have?” Rushing to her bedroom, she opened her closet and activated her hovercase. The container floated toward her bed.
“You’re remarkably composed.” Cyrus stood in the open doorway, his gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Why aren’t you afraid? Believe me, you have reason to be.”
She opened the hovercase next to her bed and gathered her belongings. “I understand men like Pern Keire. Once he accepts that I’m indispensable, he’ll see to my protection.”
“How much abuse are you willing to endure before he accepts your indispensability?”
“None.” She paused and met his gaze. “The design you gave him this morning is flawed. I have worked out the solution, but I have no intention of revealing the nature of the flaw until he personally ensures my safety. If I’m under the Stirate’s protection, no one will dare harm me.”
“Did you anticipate this or arrange it?”
“Oh, yes, I wanted to be at the mercy of barbarians. Rape me, abuse me, please.” With a disgusted snort, she turned back to her case and continued packing. “Ongoing communication is too easily intercepted. The only way to minimize this risk is by going to their compound. I anticipated the situation and arranged it to our advantage.”
“I hope you’re right. He could just as easily strap you to a table and let his crew take turns on you until you’re ready to be obedient.”
She paused, hands on her hips. “What is your obsession with rape? If he is truly as barbaric as you claim, why wouldn’t he beat me or starve me or threaten those I love? Rape isn’t the only form of abuse.”
His eyes took on a cold and distant sheen. “You don’t know the Rodytes as I do.”
After gathering her personal items from the bathroom, she offered Cyrus her full attention. “So educate me. Where is my strategy flawed?”
“I sent three ambassadors to Rodymia shortly after this travesty began.”
“By this travesty, I presume you mean the destruction of Operation Hydra.”
“We don’t have time for petty distinctions. If you keep him waiting he is more likely to be cruel.”
Petty distinctions? Who the hell did he think he was? It was convenient for Cyrus to forget she was one of the “unnatural abominations” the rescue team had brought back from Earth. Well, her association with Cyrus was nearly at an end. She slammed the case shut and waited for him to continue.
“I sent two men and a woman. The woman was necessary because the others didn’t speak Rodyte, and Pern Keire refuses to speak anything else. He listened to their proposal, casually informed them the offer was not adequately beneficial to Rodymia, and spent the next two days raping the woman while the men were forced to watch. When this no longer amused him, he summoned his guards and watched while all three were raped, repeatedly. I am not the one obsessed with rape. It is a common pastime on Rodymia.”
Her research had recorded vague instances and rumors, but nothing like this. Was his story a clever ploy to keep her from going? Despite his arrogance, Cyrus was nobody’s fool and manipulation was his specialty. Stay or go? Start over without Cyrus or finish what they’d begun?
She’d come too far to start over. The Rodytes already had the design. The Stirate couldn’t develop the technology without her, and she would refuse to continue without his protection. It was a good plan.
“If they really are the animals you say, why are you negotiating with them?” she asked in a calm, cool voice.
He gaped at her. “You don’t believe me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He shook his head, his gaze filled with pity and regret. “As soon as you are taken before him, kneel. Keep your eyes downcast and don’t speak until he speaks to you.” The central com chimed announcing the shuttle’s arrival on the roof of the building. “Don’t give him ultimatums. He won’t kill you, but he will make you wish you were dead. The best advice I can give you is ... to please him.”
She arched her brow. That was the best he could do? “I can be his whore or his victim? That’s not much of a choice.” After steering her hovercase across her flat, she paused and shot Cyrus a scathing glance. “I will be no man’s victim, so I guess I’m destined to be a whore.”
He didn’t follow her to the rooftop landing pad, so Ensley allowed her expression to relax. As usual Cyrus saw what he expected to see. Did he really think she’d jaunt off with the Rodytes without researching the situation?
She’d studied Rodyte customs as well as learning their language. They put no more importance on sex than any other bodily function. If they were hungry, they ate; if they were fatigued, they slept; and if sexual desire stirred, they copulated. Rape was not met with abhorrence by the Rodytes because they didn’t revere sex. Sharing a partner was no more significant than sharing a meal.
Many misconstrued their actions as barbaric, while in reality they were bound by a strict code of conduct. Honor was e
verything to the Rodytes. They would die to protect their honor and kill to avenge the honor of those close to them. The key to dealing with Rodytes was understanding what they considered honorable.
* * * * *
“Well, this is a great big barrel of suck.”
Lyrik laughed, drawing Saebin’s attention away from the confounding person seated across from them. Dro Tar spoke a bizarre dialect of Earthish that Saebin could barely comprehend. After inviting them into her living quarters, she told them she was going to “put on something more appropriate.”
Saebin stared at the brightly colored walls and the translucent furniture, torn between fascination and abhorrence. The material covering the floor had long, individual strands, making it appear shaggy. Hung at sporadic intervals along the walls were framed images depicting pale-skinned, dark-haired men in menacing poses. Most of the men were groping large-breasted women and many displayed fangs.
“What are those?” she asked Lyrik.
“Reproductions of movie posters. Movies were entertainment vidfiles people gathered to watch on large screens. These posters advertised vampire movies.”
“What is a vampire?”
“I’ll leave that one for Dro Tar.”
Walking to the wide, purple sofa, Saebin poked it with her finger. The smooth, shiny couch was inflated with air or some sort of gas.
“You think this is bizarre, you should see her bedroom.”
Lyrik sat on one end of the sofa. Saebin took the other, wiggling until she accustomed herself to the odd, floating sensation. “Is this person your lover?”
He laughed. “Hardly. Her tastes run toward tall, dark, and dangerous, as you can tell.” He motioned toward the movie posters.
Dro Tar returned a short time later, wearing faded blue jeans and a different tee shirt. This one was formfitting, with a slogan that read: Submit, Worship, Obey! In progressively larger letters.
Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears Page 6