When nothing happened, Mark rushed to where Robby sat. “Detonate it! We can’t just deactivate the gate and let them capture it.”
“I’m trying,” said Robby. “The self-destruct isn’t working.”
Mark grabbed his last thermite grenade from his utility vest and turned toward the still-open portal. But before he could begin his run, Nikina grabbed his arm.
“Give it to me. I’ll do it.”
“No.”
“Don’t be stupid. You’re too important to the movement. I’ll get out through the bolt-hole.”
“She’s right,” said Janet. “Give it to her.”
Another loud explosion echoed into the lab from the Hanau warehouse. With a curse, Mark handed Nikina the grenade and his quantum-entangled phone.
“Put it on top of the Earth-gate controller,” said Heather.
Nikina nodded and sprinted back through the gateway to disappear from view around its right side. Then, with a loud crackle and pop, the remote Earth gate winked out.
Mark continued to stare at the bare wall where the Hanau warehouse had been only a moment before. The sense of loss hit him. Aaden gone. Nikina gone. The German Safe Earth resistance decimated. Untold thousands of German civilians dead. And they didn’t know if the modifications Heather had made to the Frankfurt Gateway would destroy the portal.
His memory pulled him back to a time before he had become a killer. Using their unnatural muscle control to put disguising age lines on their faces, he and Heather had climbed into the car that would take them in search of Jennifer. On the radio, a British singer had crooned “Maggie May.” When he’d reached the verse about the morning sun really showing her age, Mark and Heather had broken into laughter that brought tears to their eyes.
Mark blinked away that memory of one of their last moments of innocence. Suddenly he felt Heather’s arm slip through his so that she could grasp his hand with hers. For several minutes the two of them stood side by side. At some point during their silent memorial, Janet and Robby left them alone in the big room. When Mark finally turned to look down at Heather’s tear-streaked face, he saw an exhaustion that went far beyond the physical.
“Ah, my love,” he said, drawing her eyes to his, “tell me it’s all going to be worth it.”
The ghost of a smile tried to lift the corners of her lips and failed. Mark leaned down and gently kissed them. Then they turned away and slowly walked back into their own secret world.
Inside the Hanau warehouse, Nikina lifted the trapdoor as the thermite grenade hissed and crackled as it ate its way through the Earth-gate power supply. From across the warehouse, the sound of running feet was accompanied by a yell.
“Freeze!”
Nikina froze, letting her H&K fall from her fingers to clatter on the concrete floor. Strong hands grabbed her roughly from behind and slammed her facedown on the floor. In seconds her hands were zip-cuffed tightly behind her back. She knew that these were professional grade, immune to the zip-tie-breaking and picking tricks that charlatans pitched to the public in their paid personal-combat courses.
After being thoroughly frisked and having all weapons and other possessions removed and bagged, she was hauled to her feet and half carried between two Rangers as another followed with a gun leveled at her back. She wasn’t certain, but she had a pretty good idea where they were taking her. This was just the beginning of what had already become a very long day.
Nothing new about that.
Prokorov stepped into the interrogation room and motioned for the guards to leave.
“I want to talk to this prisoner alone.”
They nodded and walked out, closing the door behind them.
Prokorov glanced around. As he had instructed, the prisoner had been brought to a room that wasn’t monitored. Here there was no one-way mirror with observers on the far side, and there were no microphones or recording devices. His people had swept the area to make sure. There was only a metal table with two metal chairs on opposite sides. He seated himself across from the prisoner, her hands manacled to a belt chain.
Galina had disappointed him. The Rangers had reported seeing her run out of the Smythe gateway from a large room on the far side. Prokorov met the gaze of her ice-gray eyes. She stared back at him.
“Hello, Galina,” said Prokorov, keeping his face impassive.
“Alexandr,” she replied.
“Last night,” Prokorov said, letting accusation creep into his tone, “you were inside the Smythe facility with a chance to remain there, and you failed to seize the opportunity to remain there. Why?”
“Overeagerness breeds distrust. By taking the actions I took, I demonstrated loyalty to the Smythes and to the Safe Earth resistance, and I salvaged some important technology for you.”
Prokorov paused to consider this. As much as he hungered to know the location of the Smythes’ secret compound, Galina had a point. Patience was the key to penetrating the Smythes’ inner circle.
“You damaged the Smythes’ Hanau gateway.”
“No. The Smythe Earth gate is in fully functional condition. I merely destroyed its power supply instead of the gateway controller as the Smythes wanted me to do. It uses something they call a subspace receiver-transmitter to communicate with the master gateway. Even though the wormhole can only be initiated by the master station inside the Smythe facility, your people should be able to glean some of its secrets.”
“We’ll see.” Prokorov leaned forward to rest his elbows on the small table. “The cell phone the Rangers took from you has some modifications that our people haven’t figured out.”
“It’s quantum entangled with one of the Smythe phones.”
“What can you tell me about the Smythe facility?”
“Not much. I went through the gateway into a big room that had obviously been excavated from solid rock. It had a larger version of the gateway, but I didn’t have much of a chance to look over the rest of the equipment. Once I escape from your custody, I’ll have the credibility to find out more.”
Prokorov glanced down at her shackles. “That will happen tonight, while you are being transported to another secure facility. I’ll start making the arrangements.”
“How many guards will I have to kill?”
“I’ll provide you the details later today. In the meantime, try to get some rest. I’ll have you put into an isolation cell until you can be transported.”
“Sounds lovely.”
Prokorov stood and walked to the door, rapping on it smartly with his knuckles. When the door opened, he turned to the German army captain in charge.
“I want this prisoner transferred to an isolation cell. No one is to speak with her without my direct authorization. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
Prokorov walked out of the building and stepped into his waiting sedan. He had finally put a chink in the Smythe armor. And when Galina was free once again, she would make sure to render their defenses useless.
CHAPTER 41
Jack stood at the prow of the fishing vessel, Dark Promise, with Captain Moros at his side, staring across the undulating sea toward the band of islands silhouetted against Altreia’s magenta orb.
He wore a black uniform of his own design. Fashioned after a typical biker’s outfit on Earth, the outfit had calf-high boots with square toes, black pants, shirt, and jacket of the same material, but without a Hell’s Angels logo emblazoned on the back. The carbon nano-fiber weave was supple, but with far greater tensile strength than Kevlar. The fabric revealed the muscles that rippled beneath with every movement. The overall effect was enhanced by the twin ivory blades strapped to both thighs and the pulse blaster holstered on his left side. Jack liked the look.
His thoughts turned to Janet and Robby and all the light-years that separated him from his family. If the coup that he was about to attempt was successful, he would soon be holding them in his human arms. That thought sent a pulse of longing up his spine before he push
ed it back into his subconscious. He couldn’t afford to think of them. Not until he had accomplished the task he had set for himself and his followers, the Twice Bound.
As the Dark Promise shifted beneath his feet, he returned his gaze to the sea. With the hull tank full of freshly caught fish, the boat peeled off from the fishing fleet to embark on the last leg of its merchant voyage. The Parthian’s thousands of occupants loved their fresh seafood, and over the cycles that he had been doing this, Moros and his crew made this run hundreds of times. But today they would be delivering something extra: The Ripper. And this time Jack wouldn’t let Khal Teth interfere.
The ongoing distractions created by the Twice Bound resistance movement on the Basrillan continent had drawn the focus of the Altreian military. But none of the trouble had spread to the band of islands that formed Quol’s prime meridian, or anywhere near the Parthian. Events were unfolding just as Jack intended.
“You want to enter the Parthian alone?” Moros asked. “That be a terrible idea.”
Jack looked down at the smaller Altreian and nodded. “It’s my way. Besides, I need you and your men to be ready to execute your part of this mission.”
“You be too muscular, and in that uniform, you no longer look like Dhaldric.”
“To them I will.”
Moros stepped back, studying him skeptically, and Jack performed one of the mind tricks he had absorbed during the weeks that he’d shared Khal Teth’s mind.
Captain Moros’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“I’m not at all myself today, now am I?” asked Jack.
“Hand me a deck broom and call me squab,” said Moros.
Letting the illusion drop from Moros’s mind, Jack grinned and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Never fear, my good captain. A new day is coming for this world.”
Moros shook his head slowly and turned away, his final words following him back onto the bridge.
“There be no doubt of that. Whether you or I be there to see it? That be the question.”
As Jack turned his gaze back to the beautiful horizon, he couldn’t blame his small friend for asking.
Parsus left the meeting of the High Council and returned to his chambers, dissatisfied. He might be the overlord, but that didn’t mean he got to dictate government action. In the past, he had never had a problem recruiting enough of the high lords to form a sufficient power bloc to make policy. But the rise of the Twice Bound resistance and the subsequent string of sabotage attacks on government facilities had produced dissension on the High Council. They felt threatened, and blamed him for failure to put an end to these activities.
What concerned Parsus the most was the correlation between the rise of the Twice Bound and Khal Teth’s return from his mind prison. Despite reassuring himself again and again that Khal Teth could not possibly have survived the explosion at sea and that the barbarian leader of the Twice Bound was nothing like his twin brother, his growing dread persisted.
Now there were reports that some of the Dhaldric had become Twice Bound. Again he struggled to understand how this could be happening on the Altreian Empire’s home world. The phenomenon reminded Parsus of religious movements that swept primitive societies, as if a messiah had arrived to free his people. But if the leader of the Twice Bound was a god, he was the god of war. No, not a description that applied to Khal Teth in any way.
Fortunately, the empire had managed to turn a few of the Twice Bound into double agents. The Twice Bound’s strength was also its weakness. As the dual bonding was truly voluntary, each new member added their strength to the power of the group. But since the bonding was based on free will, they had no mental minders watching the thoughts of each member. And any such organization had weak links who could be tempted or threatened into cooperation once their identity had been discovered.
Still, concern remained, thus why Parsus had judiciously sprinkled the Parthian with seekers. These rare Dhaldric had only minor psionic power, but they had developed an unusual mutation: they could see through the mind shrouding of any psionic who invaded their personal space, which extended for roughly a body’s length around each seeker. The power of the other psionic made no difference.
Seekers could not determine the other’s identity if they didn’t know that person, but illusions would nonetheless slip away. And since this was a passive ability, other psionics were completely unaware that they had passed through a seeker’s personal space. The mutation had arisen during the thousands of cycles after Khal Teth had been imprisoned.
But why should that matter? Khal Teth was dead.
Parsus shifted his thoughts, manipulating the controls that adjusted his outer-wall and ceiling transparency, making them completely disappear. Clasping his hands behind his back, he strode to the center of the gentle curve that faced the mighty orb of Altreia, resting on the star-filled horizon. The view was the reason he left the wall completely unadorned. Its peace filled his spirit, leaching away dull, aching dread.
Khal Teth’s escape had been an ill omen. Surely it was no more than that.
Captain Moros expertly guided the Dark Promise into the dock, watching as the magnetic tethers secured the boat in place, giving it the freedom to rise and fall with the swells but keeping the hull a near-constant distance from the hard surface. He didn’t know why The Ripper’s plan left him so uneasy. Over and over again, the Twice Bound leader had proved his power and loyalty.
Maybe Moros felt uneasy because the plan relied on so many moving parts working in perfect synchronicity. At The Ripper’s signal, Moros would make the radio call, which would set the fishing fleet into motion, sending hundreds of distant vessels racing toward the Parthian. They wouldn’t have to travel far. Just get close enough to bring the minds of the Twice Bound they carried within range of The Ripper’s, suddenly adding their strength to his.
In the meantime, Moros just had to go about his merchant duties, selling his holdful of fish to the highest bidder among the fishmongers who roamed these docks.
Through the bridge’s transparent walls, he looked at The Ripper, who appeared to be the uniformed port official who had come aboard the Dark Promise to perform an inspection of its cargo. That port official now lay bound and unconscious belowdecks. The Dhaldric’s death would have been felt by his bond master, so he had to remain alive.
Moros walked down the gangplank and onto the dock, glancing up at the monstrous bulk of the Parthian, beneath which this dock lay. To think of The Ripper walking alone into that den of sea snakes sent a shiver up his back. Yelling instructions to his crew, Moros turned and followed his leader off the dock. There he paused to watch as The Ripper disappeared into the milling crowd, hoping with all his might that this would not be the last he would ever see of this being who had allowed Captain Moros to taste the pride that only freedom could deliver.
During the long months since Khal Teth had allowed himself to be subjugated in his own body, he had felt his frustration gathering like a tropical storm. In the half orbday that remained before Dorial once again poked its fiery head above the horizon, his situation would change once and for all. The deal that he had made with Jack Gregory would send this human mind back to its own body for good.
Khal Teth could take his body back whenever he wanted. But Jack Gregory had been the one to bond with all those who called themselves the Twice Bound, and during those brief intervals when Jack had returned primary control to Khal Teth, the power of that bond weakened greatly. So Khal Teth had been forced to cooperate with Jack’s attempts to access the psionic powers of his Dhaldric brain.
The Ripper learned fast. And even though he was nowhere close to attaining the mastery that Khal Teth enjoyed, Jack’s skill represented a rapidly rising threat. If his learning continued in such a fashion, there might come a point where Khal Teth could no longer take charge of his own body unless Jack allowed it.
So, as he watched Jack move through the crowd, adopting the appearance of whomever he wanted while s
hielding his mind from probes by others, Khal Teth forced himself to be patient. His chance was coming.
Jack stepped into the turbo-lift, using a subtle mental push to make others wait, allowing him to enter and depart alone. He used the ride upward to scan the Parthian for the location of two specific Altreians: Parsus and High Lord Shabett. The second he merely wanted to avoid running into along his path to his primary target.
When he stepped out of the lift on the top level, he did so cloaked in the sultry image of Shabett. To the eyes of the Khyre workers and Dhaldric officials that he passed, he wore the sexy chartreuse gown that she favored.
As he turned into the inner hallway that would eventually take him to the swooping perimeter hallway, a lower-level Dhaldric official performed a double take. High Lord Shabett loved to create such an effect, but for some reason the reaction bothered Jack. But the official had disappeared around the corner without taking further notice, so Jack shrugged off the feeling. He was working hard enough to maintain the illusion and his mental shield while monitoring Parsus and the real Shabett that he couldn’t spare the extra energy to delve deeply into the minds of all those he passed. At least not while almost all of his Twice Bound remained beyond his psionic range.
The more Twice Bound that were within his psionic range, the more the increased power they provided extended that range. At present, Captain Moros and his crew were the only Twice Bound available to Jack. At his signal, Moros would call in allies, but that sudden movement of the fishing fleet would draw the attention of the senior officers in the Parthian’s military-operations center. And they would alert Parsus and the other members of the High Council.
So Jack needed to wait until the timing was just right. First he wanted to pay his respects to Overlord Parsus.
The message from one of his seekers brought Parsus to high alert. The Dhaldric barbarian whom the Twice Bound called The Ripper had been spotted on this level of the Parthian in the guise of High Lord Shabett. Slick. The intruder took on a guise that would have succeeded in deceiving Parsus into allowing The Ripper into his presence. From the behaviors the barbarian had previously displayed, violence would have ensued.
The Altreian Enigma (Rho Agenda Assimilation Book 2) Page 28