If you don’t strike with fury, Klane said, the Kresh will dissect Jana and remove all her organs.
Cyrus shook his head. That was a lie.
“Break down his mind barrier,” Mingal Cham instructed his Bo Taw. “Show me the alien entity in him.”
The Bo Taw assaults became even heavier. Their psionics pressed down upon Cyrus. The reptilian reek disappeared from the room, at least for Cyrus it did. The thrum of the Battle Fang vanished. Cyrus’s eyesight dimmed and his world became silent. Still, the psi-attack pressed down from all sides.
I can’t resist them much longer, Klane told Cyrus. You must use the psi-entity’s stratagem.
Never! Cyrus said. I am me or I am nothing.
I will aid you, the Eich said. We can bargain later.
Cyrus thought he shook his head. He could no longer tell.
The Bo Taw psionic attack reached the control of his lungs. A new foreign thought reached in—the chief Bo Taw—telling him, I can make you choke to death.
Cyrus knew it was true. Either he bargained with the alien entity or it was over for him. Show me your trick, he told the Eich.
It did.
In desperation, Cyrus unleashed the Klane power in him. Cyrus watched the Eich, ensuring the psi-parasite didn’t take over his mind. That allowed the memory of Klane to strike with fury and the hatred of dying. Only at the last second did Cyrus realize there lay the alien trickery. The memory of Klane used too much psionic power. No! Cyrus howled at Klane, attempting to halt the rage of the Anointed One.
It was too late to stop the initial onslaught. With masterful cunning, the memory of Klane wielded the full power of Cyrus’s altered brain. He swatted aside the individual mind shields of the Bo Taw. Where they had tried to bludgeon with psionics, he snipped the critical link between mind and body.
In the chamber, the Bo Taw simply collapsed onto the sandy floor, dead. The Vomags who raced in trying to get a shot off at Cyrus also crumpled to the floor, equally dead.
Throughout the Battle Fang, humans died by the score: techs, mechanics, and pilots.
At that point, Cyrus reached the memory of Klane. He was able to soften the expanding atomic-like psionic blow. The memory of Klane blasted people into comas, dropping them, but not instantly killing them. Cyrus didn’t want to kill everyone aboard the Battle Fang.
A reptilian roar alerted the minds in Cyrus that the Kresh still lived. The mechanical mind shield protected the alien dinosaur from the psi-assault.
Cyrus opened his eyes. The creature twice the height of a man charged him, leaping with its hind talons ready to slash him to ribbons.
Rolling, Cyrus dodged the first strike. The talons screeched against the bulkhead. Then the Kresh rebounded from the wall, landing on its back. Mingal Cham scrambled fast. Kresh were as quick as lizards.
Cyrus held out his hand. With telekinetic power, he lifted a Vomag pistol off the floor. It flew through the air and crashed against his palm, twisting one of his fingers that got in the way. Mingal Cham the 3012th bellowed. The reek of his breath washed over the man from Milan. Cyrus aimed. The Kresh charged again.
As fast as he could pull the trigger, Cyrus sent exploding pellets into the Kresh’s leathery hide. Then he rolled once more. Mingal Cham crashed against the bulkhead. He staggered back with blood pouring down his ruptured body.
Using TK again, Cyrus collected another pistol. He deliberately took aim. Mingal Cham turned his raptor head, looking at him with dull comprehension.
Five shots to the head did it. Chunks of flesh and skull blew away. Then Mingal Cham thudded onto the deck plates.
Panting, his head hurting—but the voices silent for once—Cyrus straightened. He checked the pistol, went to a soldier’s corpse, and reloaded. Taking a hatchet, Cyrus began to march down the empty corridor with it in one hand and the loaded pistol in the other.
He passed dead soldiers, dead techs, and dead Bo Taw.
I did this. I’m more than a Special Fourth Class now. I’m more powerful than Venice ever was.
He remembered how terrified everyone had been of her on the journey to Fenris. Tentatively, he mind-scanned the ship. There didn’t seem to be any more Kresh on the Battle Fang. That was good.
Cyrus still didn’t know in what manner the Eich had tricked him, but a premonition grew. After a half hour’s search, he found the vault. Opening the bulkhead, he peered in. His chest hitched as he saw everyone lying on the floor.
Rushing to Jana, he found her unconscious. Nothing he could do could wake her.
Is she dead?
She will be, the Eich said, unless you do exactly as I tell you.
Finally, Cyrus discovered the alien entity’s latest trick to control his actions.
18
The good news—if Cyrus could call it that—was that most of the others woke up. A few of them were dead; those who lived included Skar, Niens, and Yang. The living armed themselves from the dead Vomags and searched the Battle Fang from one location to the next.
“Everyone else aboard ship is dead,” Skar said a half hour later.
Niens turned to Cyrus, who stroked Jana’s forehead.
Cyrus became aware of the mentalist’s presence, but he ignored the man. Finally, Niens crouched beside him, causing one of his knees to creak and then pop with sound.
“I’m not as limber as I used to be,” Niens said.
Cyrus didn’t bother looking up.
“She’s barely breathing,” Niens observed.
At first, Cyrus didn’t think he was going to answer. He had done this to her because he didn’t know how to wield his new power. Therefore, he had let the memory of Klane and the alien psi-parasite do this.
Cyrus shook his head. If he couldn’t control the power, what good was he?
“Cyrus?” Niens asked.
“She’s in a coma because I put her there,” Cyrus whispered.
“Is the coma physically or mentally induced?” Niens asked.
“Both.”
“How did it happen?”
Cyrus touched his chest, indicting he’d done it.
“I’m not sure I understand how that’s possible,” Niens said.
“Me neither,” Cyrus whispered.
“Yet someone killed the Kresh and his attendants.”
Cyrus squeezed his eyes closed. He’d become a monster. He had killed people with his thoughts, his psi-power. He couldn’t control it properly, though.
I’ve destroyed friends, possibly my lover. How could he look in a mirror again?
Cyrus balled his hands into fists, squeezing with all his strength. Had he slain Jana? If it was possible, he had to save her. Yet he had to do it without playing into the Eich’s hands.
Cyrus looked up. In bottom-level Milan, he’d seen Dust buyers like Niens, rich men with shifty backgrounds. The mentalist knew how to run with the crowd. Could he trust the man?
“Do you still love the Kresh?” Cyrus asked.
Niens lofted his plucked eyebrows. “I have thrown in my lot with you. I can hardly love them.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You’re right. I’m curious, though,” Niens said. “Why don’t you simply probe my mind and find out?”
It was hard to say. Am I a murderer? “Not sure I trust my psionics anymore,” Cyrus muttered.
“Ah. Because of the girl?”
“Woman! Jana is a woman; my woman.”
“Of course, of course,” Niens said smoothly. “I did not mean any disrespect.”
“But yeah,” Cyrus said. “That’s the reason I’m not probing you. I just killed everyone, or the—”
“Or the what?” Niens asked.
Cyrus decided to talk about something else. “You’re a mentalist. You’re used to dealing with Bo Taw, aren’t you?”
Niens nod
ded.
Cyrus turned away, and he stroked Jana’s forehead. How can I have done this? No. I have to get it together. Wallowing in sorrow never helped me in the slums. It won’t help me in the stars, either. Time to get on task.
He cleared his throat. How far could he trust Niens anyway? The mentalist had thrown in his lot with them. That was true. Yet Niens wouldn’t answer about loving the Kresh or not.
“If it helps to settle your thoughts,” Niens said, “Yang has taken control of the vessel. At the moment, none of the other Kresh have radioed our ship. We’re still heading for High Station 3. Until we decide on a course of action, I suggest we continue on our path to the habitat. Traveling in this manner helps to camouflage our actions from the other Kresh.”
Cyrus continued to stare at a bulkhead.
“Does Yang’s decision meet with your approval?” Niens asked.
Cyrus regarded the mentalist. It surprised him to see the deference on Niens’s face.
“Clearly,” Niens said, “you are the leader. Without you, none of us will remain free or alive for long.”
Cyrus grunted his acknowledgment of the words. They hardly registered, though. How could a woman killer be the leader?
“You are tired,” Niens said. “You are also distraught. Sleep is a great healer. I suggest you avail yourself of it while you can.”
Cyrus didn’t say anything. He felt the weariness tugging at his body. He was tired. Had he killed Jana? They were supposed to get married. She was the woman of his dreams. Now, he finally got his secret wish of life—to be a great Special. But he couldn’t control the power. It had gotten away from him.
No. The psi-parasite had done this to him. Cyrus scowled. He wasn’t going to let the alien entity get away with this.
He mumbled that under his breath.
Niens leaned forward.
Then Cyrus couldn’t help himself. He slid onto the floor beside Jana. Crossing his arms, he laid his left cheek on them and fell asleep.
Cyrus woke feeling like crap. His head hurt. His tongue was puffy—
He sat up and moved beside Jana. Nothing had changed. Her chest rose and fell slowly. Her features remained frozen. How long could she last in a coma?
A snort told Cyrus someone else was here in the vault with him. Niens sat up, pushing a blanket off him. The mentalist lay on a mat.
“Feeling better?” Niens asked.
Cyrus shook his head.
“Nevertheless,” Niens said, “I see greater understanding and alertness in your eyes. Do you believe you could wrap the entire Battle Fang in a null?”
“Probably not,” Cyrus said.
“Hmm . . .”
“Why would I bother to do that anyway?” Cyrus asked.
“While you’ve been asleep, we’ve received several calls.”
“From whom?” Cyrus asked.
“A Kresh named Dagon Dar.”
“Is he important?”
“It would appear he controls most of the warships in the Pulsar gravitational system. Otherwise, no.”
Cyrus realized Niens had attempted a feeble joke. It didn’t help. His inability to control his psionics might have killed the one person he really cared about.
“We’re still heading for High Station 3,” Niens said.
“Where is this Dagon Dar?”
“I believe Yang said the Kresh’s ship orbits Jassac.”
“Have the Kresh launched any drones at us?” Cyrus asked.
“None that we can detect,” Niens said. “By the way, are you hungry?”
Cyrus was going to lie and say no. His stomach growled.
“It’s as I thought,” Niens said. He indicated a tray. A series of concentrates lay on it, along with water.
Instead of torturing himself—that had never been Cyrus’s way—he slid his butt to the tray and began to eat. He’d survived in the slums because he looked at life as it was. He’d never been able to afford emotions. Yeah, he’d put Jana in a coma, but she wasn’t dead yet. The Eich had a plan. Well, there had to be a way to beat the alien at its game.
Cyrus eyed the mentalist. Maybe he could use the man’s professional knowledge or wisdom—if a slippery eel of a man could ever be called “wise”.
“You’ve reached a decision,” Niens said.
“Are you showing off?” Cyrus asked.
“I am a mentalist. You, I believe, are in need of one. But you mistrust me.” Niens held up a long-fingered hand. “One need not be a genius at my trade to see the signs. Nevertheless, I am a genius. It was why Zama Dee employed me in such a high-level capacity.”
“Blowing smoke, are we?”
“I do not understand the idiom.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cyrus said. He eyed Niens, and he saw wrinkle lines at the edges of the man’s face. The mentalist was older than he’d realized. Was that good or bad?
“Klane didn’t trust you,” Cyrus said.
“I know.”
“Why do you think he didn’t trust you?”
“Because of my conditioning,” Niens said. “I have remnants of Kresh-love in my psyche. Since I know it’s there, I battle it.”
“How do you do that?”
“By desiring freedom, of course,” Niens said. “Also, I know the Kresh will use their worst punishments on me.”
“You say ‘freedom’ because you know that’s what I most value.”
“It’s possible.”
“How can I trust you if you’re already lying to me?” Cyrus asked.
“I fear recapture by the Kresh,” Niens said. “It is my strongest motivator.”
“What if Dagon Dar offered you a reprieve for helping to capture us?”
“Zama Dee once offered me something similar,” Niens said. “No. I will cast my lot with you, and with the humans of Earth.”
Cyrus wondered if he dared to trust Niens. If he didn’t, who else could he talk to that made sense? Skar? Yang? The memory of Klane?
“Are you ready to hear a story?” Cyrus asked.
“Most assuredly,” Niens said.
As Cyrus opened his mouth, a klaxon rang throughout the ship.
“Now what?” asked Cyrus.
The ship speakers came to life. Yang spoke in his heavy voice. “Dagon Dar FIRST is about to make an announcement to all the Pulsar gravitational ships.”
“That’s odd,” Niens said.
“What is?” Cyrus asked.
“That isn’t the FIRST’s name.”
“Meaning what?” Cyrus asked.
“The old FIRST is dead and Dagon Dar has taken over,” Niens said.
“That must mean the Chirr surprise attack at Heenhiss proved successful,” Cyrus said. “I wonder if that has anything to do with the message.”
“The communication is incoming,” Yang said over the speakers.
“Kresh of the Pulsar gravitational system,” a reptilian voice said. “The cyborgs have appeared in the outer asteroid belt. The Imperium now faces two highly viable space races. Both appear to be on war footing. All Pulsar ships will immediately head to Jassac. There, we shall hold a council of war to decide on our strategy. I expect all Pulsar ships to reach Jassac orbit within thirty hours. This is a binding order to every ship in the gravitational system. Attend now. Any commander who disobeys must be taken into custody and replaced immediately. Dagon Dar FIRST has spoken.”
As the speakers quieted, Niens turned to Cyrus. “Now what are we going to do?”
Cyrus scowled. That was a good question.
19
Cyrus paced back and forth, his head bent and his face creased with worry and guilt. Jana lay on the floor in a coma as she barely breathed.
“How long can we keep her alive?” Cyrus asked Niens.
The mentalist took his time answering. “The Batt
le Fang has medical facilities. We could put her on life support.”
“You know how to do that?”
“I do,” Niens admitted. “Our problem lies in other areas.”
“We’ll get to that,” Cyrus said. “If she’s gone . . .”
“You are a fighter,” Niens said.
Cyrus glared at the mentalist. “I’m not sacrificing her for the greater good.”
“I doubt her trouble is physical as you first surmised. My initial examination leads me to believe her problem is entirely mental.”
“So, I have to risk entering her mind to save her?” Cyrus asked.
“Who else can do so?”
“I think the Eich did something to her.”
Niens coughed discreetly. “Perhaps you could explain to me what you’re talking about.”
“Okay. What do I have to lose? I need somebody to bounce this off of.” Cyrus told Niens what he knew. He told the mentalist about the transfer, the memories talking to him as distinct people, and the alien psi-parasite.
Niens’s eyes glowed with fascination. “Yes, I see. Very interesting,” he said. “I wonder how the psi-parasite came to attach itself to Klane.”
“There was something under one of the atmospheric converters on Jassac,” Cyrus said. “It lived in a deep cave complex. Klane referred to them as singing gods, but now I think there is just the one. Klane went to the singing god once as a young lad. There, the seeker told him to reach out with his mind. The Eich gave Klane psi-power, the ability to teleport. The psi-parasite also altered Klane’s mind to give him greater psionic strength.
“Klane went there once more after the Kresh captured his friend, the seeker. Klane spoke to the so-called singing god and then blacked out. I have hints in Klane’s memory of what happened. As before, I believe the Eich altered his mind further, strengthening him, turning Klane into the Anointed One. That’s when the psi-parasite must have transferred from the tubes under the mountain and into Klane.”
“Is the parasite composed of flesh?” Niens asked.
“I don’t think so, no. More likely, he’s some form of energy.”
“You know this for certain?” Niens asked.
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