The Kota

by Sunshine Somerville

  This was disbelieved by the common citizens, but those within the Dominion had seen Abduction take scores of bodies. Hence he was allowed to say and do pretty much whatever he pleased.

  Bullseye saw several Elite glance at Abduction and shift in their seats.

  I’m not going to argue with him, she thought. Rumor says even Cruelthor is only friends with Abduction because he’s afraid of being possessed if he isn’t friendly. Which is a stupid rumor. Anyone who knows Cruelthor…

  “Why is Crow wrong, Ab?” asked Cruelthor smoothly.

  “This executive,” Abduction answered, “is head of one of our strongest businesses on the Mainland. He has good relations with local citizens. If we decide to eliminate him, we need to find a subtle way to do it. Rushing in with drones would turn the citizens against us. Using operatives or even wraiths is an option, but we have time to plan. Information on cerebral augmentation is hardly a threat to Dominion control. We don’t need to worry as long as the Underground doesn’t get the necessary equipment. The rebels have no augmentation technology, so what the executive gave them wasn’t that damaging.”

  Bullseye tried again. “Why don’t we-”

  Malice snorted. “So what? Slay him. He’s done enough to deserve it. We should punish anyone who cooperates with rebels. If we let him go, that sets a bad precedent.”

  “I agree,” said Abduction, “but Crow strikes without consideration for effects on our public image.” He glared at the woman.

  Crow tossed her dark curls and crossed her arms. “I get results. And I’ll do it again. I’ll send a force of drones after him as soon as I return to the Mainland.”

  Yanka countered in a stream of Mandarin.

  “We can’t just rush in,” Abduction insisted at the same time.

  “What would you have us do?” shouted Malice. “You’d wait until he gave the rebels the augmenting equipment!”

  Oh, I’ve had it! thought Bullseye. If I can’t get into the conversation…

  The splattering of water caught the quarreling Elites’ attention. Their heads turned to see the girl holding her drinking glass over her head and pouring the water onto the marble table. The water ran off the stone and onto the floor, and the Elite on either side of her pushed back to avoid getting sprayed. When all the Elite finally hushed, Bullseye tipped her glass upright and set it on the table.

  Crow made a face at her. “What are you doing?”

  “Do I have your attention now?” Bullseye looked to make sure she did. “Do any of you realize that, while you’re sitting here having a meeting about this executive, none of you know where he is?”

  Malice eyed her over from the facing table. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t know who you think you are, but we’ve been handling this kind of thing since you were in diapers.”

  Smiling, Bullseye stood and swung a leg to come around one side of the chair. She knew they were watching, but she kept her eyes on Malice as she crossed the space between the tables. Her boots padded across the floor, but everyone was silent as they sat in confusion. Then she stopped before Malice and smiled at the sitting man. Leaning forward on the table and turning her head to see Cruelthor, she shot out an arm and slammed Malice’s head into the table, breaking his nose.

  The Elite beside him recoiled, but they didn’t move to assist Malice when they saw the smirk of approval on their leader’s face. Malice sat back up and held his bleeding nose, cursing and glaring at the girl. But, he also saw Cruelthor’s smile and did nothing in retaliation.

  Bullseye held Malice’s gaze, and she spoke loud enough for the others to hear. “I already eliminated the executive, sweetheart. He’s dead, and the augmentation information was retrieved. I did it quickly and quietly. The public has no idea what happened to him, and a confirmed traitor has been taken care of. Problem solved.” She stood back from the table and crossed her arms.

  I’ve got their attention now, she thought as her heart pound in her chest. I hope this works.

  Cruelthor clapped not only to congratulate Bullseye but also to command the Elites’ focus. “That’s enough now. Leave Malice and his wounded pride alone.”

  Bullseye obeyed and walked to bow before the Dominion throne. It was an extreme thing she’d just done, but training told her it would work.

  Cruelthor’s impressed, she thought, so that’s what matters. He’s the one who’ll promote me, not the Elite.

  “This is Bullseye,” Cruelthor told the others. “I’ve kept her hidden for years, but I know rumors about her are whispered in every corner of the realm. Most of them are true. Bullseye’s worked as an undercover assassin operative for a few years now, but I brought her to this meeting because she’ll soon be joining your ranks as an Elite. The Youth program is no longer suitable, although it’s kept her a secret for some time.”

  The Elite looked surprised to learn who she was. And impressed.

  Validation is a wonderful feeling. She’d always had Cruelthor’s support, but earning the respect of others on her own was important to her. Having people respect you because their continuation of life depends on it isn’t quite as gratifying as deserving it.

  Cruelthor turned to Bullseye while the Elite shuffled and whispered amongst themselves. “You took an hour to speak up. Why’d you wait so long to tell us you eliminated the executive? I could’ve gone to dinner and back by now.”

  “I’m shy, sir.” Bullseye got the chuckle she’d expected. Knowing this was her time to prove herself, she launched into a confident account. “Besides, my instructors taught me to take appraisal of a situation before acting. I wanted to evaluate how the Elite operate. Then I realized I needed to make an example of one of them. I wasn’t sure who to single out until Malice got cocky. The ‘sweetheart’ cinched it.”

  Cruelthor’s eyes locked onto hers in a manipulative way that made his other subjects squirm.

  Bullseye purposefully never squirmed.

  “Ambitious little thing, aren’t you?” Approving, Cruelthor motioned with a manicured hand that she was to leave. “Well done. Now shoo. They’ve seen enough of you for now.”

  Bullseye turned and walked down the open space between the tables, and she shot Malice a smirk before sauntering through the double doors of the grand hall.

  When the doors closed behind her, she dropped the mask of confidence and grinned, knowing she’d been lucky everything went so well. She glanced around, then placed her ear to the door. If caught, she’d argue that she was trained to be curious and nosy. Bullseye had little reason to fear punishment – being Cruelthor’s half-sister carried advantages beyond job promotions. If anyone noticed her eavesdropping and knew who she was, it was doubtful she’d even be scolded.

  Of course I’m indulged, she thought. Why wouldn’t I use that to my advantage? Once I’m an Elite, they might not go so easy on me.

  Inside the room, Crow was asking, “A child assassin? How’d she go through the necessary training so quickly? She’s only a teenager. I didn’t complete basic training that fast.”

  “She is young to be an Elite,” said Abduction.

  “Age doesn’t matter,” said Cruelthor. “Bullseye’s mutate-genes have worked since childhood, so she’s had more experience with her abilities than any Youth MOB. Most of those pubescent twerps are only beginning to show their gifts. Edlyn, her instructor, tells me Bullseye has flown through the Youth courses. Her mutate-genes give her perfect hand-eye coordination, hence her code name. Obviously that’s why we use her as an assassin. And, she’s also developing her stealth-like ability to dematerialize, becoming undetectable to the human eye or security systems. I know what you’re thinking, but somehow it is possible. I’ll show you the video from one of her training sessions, if you like. Believe me that this sixteen-year-old girl is invaluable as an assassin operative and quite ready to be an Elite. She did manage to take care of the executive you were at a notable loss to control.”

  Bullseye smiled against the door.

  Yanka cleared his throat. In hi
s native tongue, he told Cruelthor he’d heard stories. Everyone knew that Cruelthor, the unmentionable twin brother who was dead to them all, and this girl shared the same mother – Vedanleé. It was this woman who’d had some involvement in Cruelthor’s great father’s death. They knew Cruelthor’s own twin wouldn’t serve him. What if Bullseye turned traitor like Beathabane? Perhaps the girl had been influenced against the Dominion by her mother.

  That perked up Bullseye’s ears. They weren’t allowed to speak of Vedanleé, but Bullseye naturally wanted to know all as she could about her mother.

  “Are you questioning my will?” asked Cruelthor with tense playfulness. “I think you’re missing the golden link in this little chain of command we have here, Yanka. Me sovereign; you expendable. See how well that works?”

  “Your own great father,” said Crow, “tried to slay Vedanleé, this girl, and all your people, sir. We know those stories too, although they’re older.”

  Cruelthor sighed, and Bullseye imagined him rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “Do I need to inject one of you with the virus to prove my seriousness? Honestly, am I not strict enough? I doubt the Caesars, Stalin, or Hitler had to say, ‘Because I said so.’ Should I bring out the DRK?”

  “No, sir,” came the unanimous answer.

  Everyone knew that, while his forefather’s had used the DRK treatment to gain power, Cruelthor was using the virus to keep it. As in the old system, the Dominion Elite, operatives, executives, and specially selected citizens were still routinely given DRK treatment injections. These chosen few received injects on a timetable so the mysterious protection remained in their blood, giving them immunity for a certain time until its potency faded. Along with this old system, Cruelthor had added a new policy – private Dominion labs now stored the DRK virus. If anyone did anything illegal, they no longer simply lost their DRK treatment privileges. Now, even common citizens who dared commit a crime were injected with the DRK. This made Cruelthor’s grip even tighter than before, and the crime rate had steadily dropped. There was always the danger of catching the virus by accident, but the threat of being directly injected made many fall in line.

  Cruelthor toyed with the Elite. “Are you sure I shouldn’t call the lab? I can have them whip up a nice warm batch of DRK in no time if you-”

  “It’s reasonable to have concerns,” Abduction hurried to defend. “When Vedanleé escaped with the girl, your father raged about their survival – we all saw that and watched him slip into madness. Many say that, in his last days, your father insisted that this girl would end the Dominion. Something in his hysterical rantings was about how a prophecy concerning her spelled the empire’s ruin. Sir, it’s my belief that your father feared this girl more than anything he’d ever encountered.”

  “Yes, father was a paranoiac. Lucky for me, he told me everything before he died. Knowing what he did, I would’ve gotten rid of our people too. I don’t understand why my grandfather or those before him didn’t do it themselves.” Cruelthor sighed. “I know what my father feared from Bullseye, but I’ve made precautions. She knows nothing that could end the Dominion. I’m not worried. This prophecy nonsense is a little hard to swallow.”

  “You said yourself that her mutate-genes developed early,” said Crow. “And no one in the history of the MOB has ever had skills of dematerialization. There’s something strange about her, sir. Bullseye spent her early years with your mother, and Vedanleé was a witch.”

  “Magic,” Cruelthor said with a laugh. “No, Bullseye’s abilities are completely within the realm of science. The girl is not your concern. As my followers, your duty is to follow me. Simple, but I can see you’re having problems with the concept.”

  Yanka wondered aloud what would happen if Bullseye was dangerous, as Cruelthor’s father had feared. Cruelthor should slay her, as his father had wished. Why take the risk?

  “The risk? My father was a suspicious, paranoid control freak. That’s what killed him – he didn’t have the strength to maintain our vast empire. I do. Bullseye follows me. So what if there is a prophecy? I’m not afraid. As far as I can tell, a prophecy only means this girl has power. That’s why I brought her to live where I can guide her – unlike my father, I want to harness her power instead of destroy it. Bullseye’s skills are unparalleled, and she is of incredible use to me. Here, I’ve already trained her power to serve my will. I want that power here!” An echoing crack suggested he’d broken the armrest of his throne. Cruelthor’s voice lowered as he added, “Believe me, all of you. There’s no reason to fear the ancient dream of a dead people. Bullseye will follow me. We’re family.”

  Bullseye heard chairs rake against the tiled floor, and the eavesdropper knew the Elite were departing. She backed away from the door and quickly made her way through the twists and turns of the Capitol compound to the Youth barracks.

  What’s all this prophecy stuff? she thought. I’ve never heard anything about this. Sure my abilities are a little unusual, but is there some hidden power in me? And Cruelthor’s father wanted me dead because of this prophecy?

  She tried to recall her studies.

  I’ve read historical accounts, she thought. I know Cruelthor’s father strove to eradicate the rest of our Kota people. But that was because he feared a prophecy about me? I lived with the Kota when I was little, but I don’t remember anything…

  She remembered her father and early childhood only as one remembers something slightly more real than a dream, and she remembered her mother only a little better. Cruelthor was right; he was the only family she knew. Vedanleé had sent her to the Dominion when Bullseye was only seven, and Cruelthor had taken Bullseye in and given her things she never would’ve had elsewhere.

  The Dominion gave me everything, she thought. Now some prophecy says I want to end the Dominion? That’s ridiculous! Luckily, even if Cruelthor’s father wished me dead, Cruelthor doesn’t. In fact, it sounds like he thinks I’m incredibly valuable. He sees that I have worth. He’s training me and giving me everything I could ever want. I… Okay, I don’t love Cruelthor like I vaguely recall loving my long-lost parents. And deep down, I can’t worship him as a hero. But I’d die for him – many a mission he’s sent me on has proven my loyalty. If Cruelthor believes in me, there’s no reason to worry about this prophecy ruining my potential career.

  Youth members walked the halls, and several looked at her with a mixture of awe and jealousy. She tried to avoid eye contact.

  These guys want me dead and out of the top ranks, she thought. They want operative-level status for themselves, if only for my living arrangements. No roommate. My own-

  A muscular boy jabbed her with his elbow as he walked by. “Watch it, cha!”

  A bolt of pain radiated from the collision, and Bullseye stifled a cry. In pain, she hurried up the hall to her living compartment. She entered her room, closed the door with her leg, and held her side. With a gasp of pain, she ran to the bathroom and vomited in the sink.

  Lucky shot, she thought as she wiped her mouth.

  Wincing, she stripped off her shirt. The young assassin then looked in the mirror and saw a massive bruise on her side where the executive’s bodyguard had kicked her. It hadn’t been an easy mission, but she’d chosen not to reveal this to Cruelthor.

  Bullseye paused as she looked at her reflection. The mirror returned a less confident expression than the one she’d plastered on for Cruelthor and the Elite. Her eyes shone less proud, her posture less carefree.

  I look more like the driven, eager-to-impress girl I am, she thought. But no one gets to see this girl. Guess my undercover training has been useful in real life too – I have a variety of masks to slap on when I need them. This hurt like hell when I was with the Elite, but they didn’t notice, did they? I can hide whatever I want. As long as I keep my head, I bet I can do this forever.

  In a more sedate mood now, Bullseye left the bathroom. She removed an antique knife from her boot and set it on her table before kicking off her boots. Next, Bullseye looked
at her bunk, realizing she was too sore to climb into bed. Instead she lay on the floor and forced herself not to cry out in pain, and she controlled her breathing the way her instructor had trained her.

  Out the corner of her eye, Bullseye saw the birthmark on her upper arm near her shoulder. She let her mind wander. This strange, crossed-circle-shaped blemish was a nuisance because she couldn’t get rid of it, but it was helpful in getting her mind off of things. Cruelthor said it was just something she’d been born with, but she always wondered why it wouldn’t go away with laser removal. She’d tried to have it removed several times, but the birthmark reappeared within days. Deciding it wasn’t worth the hassle, she’d stopped having it removed.

  Bullseye tried to touch the birthmark, but the pain of reaching across her body stopped her. She lay still and bit her lip. Hearing her door open, she forced herself to sit up and ignore the sting.

  “What are you doing down there? Are you hurt?”

  Edlyn, her Youth instructor, stood in the living compartment’s open doorway. Edlyn had Mainland-Asian roots, and her olive skin was shadowed by dark locks that hung to her chest. Her normally upbeat expression was turned to one of concern. Edlyn wasn’t old enough to be Bullseye’s mother, but she filled the position effectively. (Although Cruelthor was her family, Edlyn was the only person she really loved. Bullseye would never admit this. Explaining one’s feelings was a sign of weakness to hide. This was a good defensive strategy, however much it stunted personal relationships.)