DarkWind: 2nd Book, WindDemon Trilogy

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  “This containment cell,” said Kahmal, “I am assuming has titanium bond shackles imbedded in the walls.”

  “Titanium shackles attached to ten inch thick cormax rods that have been drilled through two hundred feet of solid bedrock and anchored with triple-reinforced krilonite cement to four foot deep iron stanchions,” Sejm said.

  Chanz whistled. “Not even Cree could break free of that.”

  “The cell was designed specifically for Khiershon Cree,” Sejm reported, “and I imagine we will find the ashes of that one when we arrive.”

  Kahmal’s fierce eyes locked on Sejm, “What happens once the ship is repaired and we are ready to put him back in the E.S.U.? You can’t draw the oxygen out of the containment cell. You can’t expect him to hold still for you to inject him with another high-powered dose of IH this time around.”

  “Why not?” asked Sejm with a nasty smile.

  “You don’t have his woman’s life to threaten,” Chanz put in.

  “But we have his whore,” Sejm said in a singsong voice.

  Kahmal sat back in her chair. “Burkhart.”

  “Aye,” Sejm agreed, “and I am wagering he’ll behave just as docilely for us with a blade to Dorrie’s throat as he did to the throat of his lady.”

  The crippled ship landed in the thick dust of Montyne Vex, causing a cloud of suffocating particles to rise up from the desert floor. As the ship’s thrusters shut off and the craft settled, a strong smell of ozone shot through the ventilation system.

  “The breech must have widened with the weight of the landing,” Chanz reported. “We’re pulling in gases from the planet’s surface.”

  “Even through the seal on the lower deck?” asked the Captain.

  “It would appear so. I’m registering heavy concentrations of ammonia and cybrilon, but the scrubbers have come on line.”

  “What that tells me is we’re going to be here awhile,” said the Captain. “Tyrian, try hailing Charon 8.”

  Lieutenant Tyrian did not reply. She knew the situation was hopeless, but she tried to raise the nearest Amazeen outpost anyway. When all she got was subspace static, she turned to Captain Chakai. “Nothing, Ma’am. Not even a beacon is coming out of the wormhole.”

  The Captain nodded, not having expected help from that direction, but obliged to try. “Put out a distress call on a frequency you know those piddling Terran vessels can’t intercept and cloak us. We don’t need to borrow trouble as Sejm says.”

  “Aye-Aye, Captain,” Tyrian responded.

  “I suggest we move the bodies to the containment cell before we take Cree there,” Kahmal told the Captain. She turned to Hael Sejm. “Will the shackle chains be long enough for him to reach the bodies for consumption?”

  “Please, Major!” the Captain said, gagging.

  Sejm grinned. “Aye, Akkadia. He’ll have plenty of stalking room about his cell if you don’t want him plastered tight to the wall.”

  Kahmal stared at the Chalean woman, surprised to realize she loathed the scientist. As much as she, herself, hated Kamerone Cree, it would appear Sejm, his blood aunt, hated him more. She knew why, of course, but it seemed to her-and to most people who tried to reason the maniacal hatred Sejm bore the Reaper-the woman’s animosity far outweighed the crime of Cree’s existence.

  “Feeling a touch of pity for him are you, Major Kahmal?” Sejm challenged.

  The Major refused to rise to the bait and remained silent. The older woman’s chuckle as Sejm turned to leave set Kahmal’s teeth on edge.

  “That one is to be watched,” whispered Melankhoia Chanz.

  “She will kill him if we aren’t careful,” Kahmal replied in a low voice.

  “Will the evacuation of the oxygen cause him irreparable harm?” asked the Captain.

  “Most assuredly it will,” Kahmal answered in a matter of fact tone, “but the parasite will heal him eventually.”

  “How quickly?”

  Kahmal shrugged. “That can not be determined at this time.” She relaxed in the chair. “It will be to our advantage that he be incapacitated as much as possible.” She looked at the Captain. “That is why I did not protest her obvious lie.”

  “She knows it will harm him,” stated Captain Chakai.

  “She knows and she’s looking forward to it,” confirmed Kahmal.

  Sejm stood beside the E.S.U. and listened as the oxygen was sucked out of the unit. She turned her head to one side as the ruddy complexion of the man lying inside began to take on a bluish tint. As the alarm bell sounded-warning no air was left within the E.S.U. to sustain life-she smiled.

  “Cut it open,” Lieutenant Cirolia Sern ordered and two crewwomen from engineering attacked the titanium seal of the unit with laser torches.

  “How long before you will have the lid off?” asked Captain Chakai.

  “Fifteen, perhaps twenty minutes, Ma’am,” Sern answered.

  Chakai looked up at the chronometer above the sleep unit and frowned. “Enough to kill a normal man.”

  “The key word here is normal, Captain,” Sejm said archly. “It takes fire or a blade to completely destroy one of his kind.”

  “Then why hang him?” Chakai asked.

  “Because it will cause him pain, of course,” Sejm replied. “Suffocating pain before the guillotine lops the head from his worthless body!”

  The Captain sighed. The scientist’s presence was becoming worrisome and she would be glad to see this journey to its end and be rid of the vicious hag. Her displeasure at having a Chalean on board her vessel was second only to her intense dislike of having to bide time with a member of the Rysalian Tribunal. Every female in the Quadrant knew Rysalian Tribunalists were not to be trusted.

  Akkadia Kahmal watched from a few feet away as the engineering team cut through the titanium bond. She leaned against a support beam, arms folded across her chest, and never took her eyes from Sejm’s vindictive face. She studied the old woman much as she had studied ugly insects when she was a child. A part of her ached to pin Sejm’s arms to a board as she had pinned the insects’ wings and watch the crone struggle to free herself.

  “Planning how you will rid us of her, ‘Kadia?” Melankhoia Chanz asked in a low voice.

  “How important is she to the Tribunal?”

  “I believe once she brings Kamerone Cree to his knees before them she will have lived out her usefulness,” Chanz replied. “If rumor is true.”

  “What then?” the Major asked.

  “She will be retired with full honors.”

  Kahmal’s smile was slow. “I do not believe she will live long enough to retire with honors, ‘Khoia.”

  “One can only hope such will be the case,” Chanz agreed.

  “We’re almost through the seal, Captain,” Sern reported.

  “Are you ready with the IH injection, Dr. Sejm?” asked the Captain.

  Sejm nodded and reached into her lab coat. She moved closer to the E.S.U., a full vac-syringe clutched like a dagger in her gnarled fist. “I am ready.” The engineering team stepped back as the lid lifted then arced up the dual tracks behind the unit. Sejm moved in, aimed the vac-syringe at Cree’s neck and plunged the needle in as far as it would go.

  The Reaper’s body convulsed violently and everyone in the room gasped. All but Akkadia Kahmal scrambled away from the unit and ran for the door. The Major unfolded her arms, pushed away from the beam, and walked to the unit.

  “Kahmal!” the Captain shouted. “Come away!”

  “He can’t hurt us. For all intents and purposes, the man is dead.” She reached into the unit to place two fingertips against Cree’s still neck. When she felt no pulse, she looked around. “Get the gurney and let’s get him to the containment cell before the parasite works its magic and he wakes, ladies.”

  Cautiously, the others moved closer to the E.S.U. Satisfied the Reaper was out of commission, they worked to lift him from the unit and onto a gurney.

  “These chains are heavy,” one of the security team compla
ined as she took hold of the thick links attached to the manacles around Cree’s wrists.

  “And you should be glad they are, my dear,” Sejm told her.

  “Every precaution was taken to incapacitate the bastard,” Chakai muttered as she helped the security team members lay the heavy chains on the gurney.

  Sejm wished they would leave her alone with the Reaper for only a moment or two. Deep in the pocket of her lab coat was another syringe filled with a lethal toxin that she was sure would kill the parasite given the chance. If not, it would most certainly stamp out any ember of life remaining inside the humanoid body of Kamerone Cree.

  But she was being watched-most closely by Akkadia Kahmal-and she suspected Cyle Acet was responsible. The Great Lady had more than likely issued strict orders that the crewwomen of The Aluvial not allow her unsupervised access to the Reaper.

  Though a problem, it was not a major setback for Sejm. She had no intention of allowing Cree to reach Rysalia Prime alive. Never again would she risk the chance of him surviving another execution in the courtyard of the Titaness.

  “We’re ready to transport into the caves,” Chanz told her Captain.

  Captain Chakai nodded. “Engage,” she commanded.

  Akkadia Kahmal tensed, wondering what they would find once they gained the caves. The thought of seeing the ravaged body of her youngest sister made the heart inside the Amazeen Major’s body ache.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “No sign of them at all,” Lieutenant Deon told the others. “The containment cell walls are splattered with Reaper blood and tissue, but it is months old.”

  “The Terran vessel,” snarled Sejm. “I’ll wager the bastard was on the Terran vessel we passed!”

  “And our Sisters, as well!” said Melankhoia.

  “Our sisters are dead,” Akkadia said in a soft voice. “I feel it here.” She clutched her closed fist to her chest.

  “I refuse to accept that!” said Melanchoia.

  “Accept it,” Akkadia demanded, her tone brooking no challenge.

  The two women locked gazes and when Akkadia did not look away, Melanchoia’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Eyiigh!” Melanchoia wailed and turned away, walking, then running as fast as she could from the others.

  “Should I go to her?” Sern asked.

  “Let her mourn in her own fashion,” Akkadia cautioned. She looked about the containment cell. “As will I.”

  The Captain moved out of the Major’s way as Akkadia exited the cell, not daring to put a comforting hand on Kahmal’s broad shoulder for the look of anguish was hard on the warrioress’ face.

  “Another crime for which the Reaper and his bloodsons must atone,” Sejm declared.

  The Captain touched the Vid-Com on her uniform lapel. “Transport the bodies to the cell’s coordinates then send us the Reaper. I’ve of a mind to hurt him even though he can not feel it!”

  Sejm grinned. “Save your anger for when he can, Captain. Why waste good torture on a mindless chunk of nerveless flesh?”

  Captain Chakai clenched her teeth. “It would soothe me.”

  Sejm shrugged. “Then do what you will to him.”

  Light pulsed brightly in the containment cell and the heaped bodies of the dead Terran men materialized in one corner. The smell was overpowering and the women backed away from the stench. Once again the light pulsed and the gurney carrying Kamerone Cree’s unconscious form appeared near the back wall of the cell.

  “Get him chained as quickly as you can,” Sejm suggested. “I have no idea how long it will take for his parasite to revive him.”

  As her security crewmembers worked efficiently to secure the Reaper’s wrists, neck and ankles to the stanchion buried deep in the walls of the cave, Captain Chakai stood at the cell’s entrance and thought of the brutal things she would like to do to Kamerone Cree.

  “He arouses the beastesses within us, does he not?” Sejm inquired as she took in the savage look on the captain’s set face.

  “Aye, that he does.”

  “By my reckoning, he will be partially cognizant within an hour’s time,” the Chalean scientist stated.

  “Sern?” the captain called out.

  “Aye, Ma’am?”

  “Do we have rods on board The Aluvial?”

  Sern frowned. “Only the Inquisition teams have them, Ma’am, and we’ve not found their weapons of office here. The Terrans must have taken them.”

  “Too bad.” The Captain smiled nastily. “But you have laser wands, do you not?”

  “Aye that we have.” Sern swallowed, looking at the handsome man now lying chained to the wall.

  “Then bring me one.”

  Kamerone Cree sat in the blackness of the cell. His legs were splayed, his shackled hands palms up in his lap as he sat propped up against the wall.

  He could not move.

  He could not see.

  He could not hear.

  He could not smell.

  He could not taste.

  He could not speak.

  He could not feel.

  He could not think for his thought processes had been severely crippled.

  There were only bits and pieces left in the files of his damaged brain.

  Eventually, a tiny light would spark in his partially deleted mind, then another as the parasite set about to make the repairs that were necessary to re-animate its host, but until then, the Reaper was catatonic.

  The smell of burning flesh was thick in the room, but the man whose body was covered with scores of livid burns made no sound at all. Although his muscles jumped with each new application of the laser wand, he made no sound and gave no indication the excruciating pain was registering.

  “You said he should be fully awake by now!” the Captain accused. She held the laser wand to the Reaper’s left biceps until the ruby light went all the way through the arm, destroying tissue, muscle and bone.

  “Captain, really!” Sejm laughed. She took hold of the Captain’s hand and pulled the wand from the mangled arm. She took it out of the hands of Cree’s tormentress. “You are not accomplishing anything. The brain damage was more severe than I anticipated, but he will fully recover in time. When he does, you can play with him until your heart is content.”

  “Bastard.” As the Captain watched, the damaged flesh began to heal. “It is sinful what the Revenant worm can do.” She grabbed a handful of Cree’s thick dark curls and pulled the Reaper’s head back. “Wake up you sorry excuse for a being!”

  Sejm gasped as Kamerone Cree’s eyes suddenly flew open. She stumbled back, the laser wand extended toward him, her heart pounding furiously in her chest as the captain let go of Cree’s hair with a terrified shriek and rushed to join her at the door of the cell.

  “Weapons on heavy stun!” the captain shouted to the four Amazeen security guards in the cell with them.

  Sejm stared at the Reaper, watching as he blinked, tried to focus his amber eyes, but his eyes closed once more. She held her breath as his head fell to his chest, wobbled there for a moment before he tried to raise it. The effort failed and the helpless sound of a sigh escaped his parted lips.

  “Wake up,” Sejm whispered.

  Cree’s fingers flexed and every woman in the room tensed. The power in those long, tapered fingers had the strength of the hands of twenty men. It was lethal power, unforgiving, and savage.

  “Wake up!” yelled Captain Chakai, her eyes flashing viridian fire.

  He grunted and tried to raise his head again. They saw his eyes slowly open. They watched as his broad chest expanded then listened to the soft exhalation of his breath.

  Sejm noticed his eyes moving as he took in the vicious burns on his naked chest. She saw him slowly close his eyes and as he opened them, he raised his chin until he was able to look at his captors then leaned his head against the damp stone wall behind him as his gaze slid from one woman to the next before settling on Sejm. He swallowed with difficulty and then licked at his parched lips.

>   “You will get nothing from us. Not one drop of water. Not one.”

  They saw the Reaper’s gaze shift to the bodies piled haphazardly against the far wall of the containment cell.

  “Aye, that is your feast, Iceman,” Chakai chortled, “and we wish you good appetite!”

  Kamerone Cree looked away from the corpses as though the sight hurt him in some way.

  “The Major has arrived,” Sejm informed Captain Chakai.

  Akkadia Kahmal ducked through the doorway and when she straightened, her emerald eyes grew wide when she saw the condition of her prisoner. “Who authorized this man’s torture?”

  “The prisoner has regained some of his faculties,” Captain Chakai pronounced.

  As much as she hated the man she had captured, Akkadia Kahmal was sworn to protect him, to bring him safely to The Great Lady to be executed for his crimes. She pushed into the cell and stood toe to toe with Chakai.

  “You were out of line, Captain, you had no authority to do this.”

  “I was given a mandate within my mission statement which states I may interrogate prisoners I deem-”

  “Interrogate?” Kahmal interrupted. “What information did you think you could get from an unconscious man?”

  “We were trying to rouse him so we could interrogate him,” Chakai said, lifting her chin.

  “Really? And just what information do you think he could provide that we do not already know?” Kahmal asked. She turned her scrutiny to the Reaper and found him looking back at her with such a pitiful expression she had to turn away.

  “The sight of him disgusts me, as well, Major,” Sejm said, obviously misreading Kahmal’s reaction to the prisoner.

  Akkadia Kahmal clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth together to keep from taking out her skean, the double-edged ceremonial dagger at her belt, and thrusting it into the Chalean crone. As it was, she narrowed her eyes and locked gazes with Captain Chakai. “This man is off limits to you and to every member of this crew. He is not to be harmed beyond what is necessary to subdue him and keep him under firm restraint.” A muscle jumped in her cheek. “Is that clear?”