by Tess Mallory
A muscle in Eagle's jaw tightened as his mind flashed back to a day six months before. Under the two moons of Alpha Centauri 7, he had held his best friend Telles in his arms as the blood pumped from the man's chest.
Helpless he had held him, helpless he had watched him die. And Telles hadn't even wanted to be there. In recent months his friend had begun to crack under the strain of the incessant fighting and had told Eagle and anyone else who would listen that he was going to join the rebellion. Eagle had tried to shut him up, had passed it off as a joke whenever he could, but Zarn's intelligence agents were always around. They always knew.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. Zarn was right. He hadn't been himself since Telles's death. Two months ago he had refused, point-blank, to lead the Forces on a totally uncalled-for attack on a small world in the Delta Five system. Zarn had ranted and raved but Eagle would not relent. He was sick of the needless killing and the needless dying. It was one thing to defend themselves against invasion, but quite another to go out looking for blood. Had he really ever thought it was all right? Had he ever really believed all the propaganda his father and his ministers dished out to the Forces? Apparently he had.
He recovered quickly, but knew for once he had not been able to hide his pain from his father. He forced a smile back to his lips. One point for Zarn. "No, I haven't been myself. And you of course thought watching little kids get their brains flushed would be my idea of a real relaxing time, no doubt." Zarn's own facade slipped for a moment as he slapped one palm down on the console in front of him. One point for Eagle.
"There is much to learn before you step into the new responsibilities in my hierarchy that I have planned for you. The Cabinet members have been making noises lately about your escapades. They say they won't agree to you officially being named heir unless I can convince them you still place your Rigelian heritage above all else."
"Just stick them in one of your mind-probes and I'll wager they'll do anything you tell them to," Eagle said, feigning a yawn. Another, tighter smile slid over Zarn's lips. "Even a monarch needs advisers, Eagle, advisers who still have their wits about them."
"I don't understand what this is all about anyway. I am Rigelian. I am your son. What's the problem? I've been the heir since I was born, haven't I?"
"But you are not officially the heir until you have reached your thirtieth year, and that is coming up in a matter of months."
"You're telling me." Eagle stood and shoved his chair backward, rubbing the knotted muscles in the back of his neck with one hand. "And lately I've been feeling every year. Tell me, isn't there any other way to keep the Andromedans in line? I mean, requiring them to live in the Stations from the ages of two to seventeen and then mandatory service in the Forces should be enough. Do you have to alter their minds?"
"The mind-probe is essential for controlling the rabble in the systems where we cannot afford to leave behind much of a provisional government." Eagle snorted. "Yeah. Eight. So what's your excuse for Andromeda? Your freaking military headquarters is stationed there."
Zarn shook his head, a look of utmost patience on his lined face. "I will not argue the point with you. The conquest of Andromeda came as a result of their aggression against us. We do not control the thinking of the Andromedans. We adjust the thinking of their children in order to give them a chance to grow up without the barbaric influences of their parents and their twisted views on what caused the war between us."
"Father," he said softly, "you don't even let them keep their own names."
He hadn't known that until he'd come to Station One. Children from conquered planets weren't allowed to retain their names, or any other personal information or memory that might draw them back to their heritage. To do so would be dangerous, would plant seeds that might one day grow into rebellion.
His father seemed confused by Eagle's concern. "Well, of course not. I want their allegiance to be to me—not to their barbaric parents. And I allow them to choose their new names, don't I?"
Zarn's face was flushed, and Eagle was glad to see he had finally hit a nerve. Sometimes he wondered if his father had any nerves at all—or any heart. The question between them echoed through his mind, as though he were hearing it for the first time:
"What name do you choose for yourself?"
A chill rippled down his spine and he sat down again, his muscles stiff against the curved back of the chair. He laced his hands together on the desktop in front of him.
"You do know, don't you, that the Andromedans are refusing to have more children?"
Zarn waved one hand as though tossing away the ridiculous notion. "Pah, they believe too deeply in their God to stop procreation. It is one of the fundamentals of their creed."
"Still, it's the truth. One of my old pals in Intelligence told me so just a few months ago." He leaned forward, his hands flat on the desktop, his voice intense. "You're losing control of all of these worlds—or you will, eventually—if you don't change the way you rule them."
Dark brows collided over green eyes that turned as hard and cold as glass in the space of a moment. "And I suppose you know exactly how they should be ruled—you with all of your years of experience?"
Eagle shook his head. "No, I don't have the answers, but I could make some suggestions. How about a little forbearance? A little freedom? And a little mercy wouldn't kill you."
"It might!" Zarn snapped. "I warn you, Eagle, if this kind of talk gets back to the Cabinet, you can kiss your inheritance good-bye. Great Kikimir, you sound like some of the rebel scum we've hunted down. What is the matter with you? None of this ever bothered you before."
Eagle sighed and ran one hand over his face wearily. He leaned back in his chair, his anger leaving him all at once, his hands dangling over the sides.
"You're right. And I don't know what the hell is the matter with me."
The tension in Zarn's face faded. He smiled, the lines around his mouth deepening in a familiar, somehow comforting way. "You're just tired, boy, that's all. Your friend's death hit you pretty hard, and after you complete this mission for me, I want you to take some time off—as long as you need."
"Mission? You mean there's another reason for my being on this god-forsaken planet besides getting my hand slapped by Daddy?"
"Amusing. Yes, there is a very important reason. Haven't you learned by now that I never do anything without a reason?" His shoulders hunched forward and he lowered his voice in a conspiratorial tone. "A child arrived there today, a little girl."
Eagle raised both brows. "You keep up with that?"
"This time I do. This is no ordinary student for the Station. She should not have been brought to the station at all and she will not remain. I want you to leave today and bring her to me on Rigel."
"You're on Rigel?" Eagle frowned. He could count on one hand the number of times his father had returned to Rigel in the last ten years. He was usually too busy leading his military endeavors. "What's going on?"
"I will explain when you arrive. Do this, and I assure you the Cabinet will have no basis for turning you down as my heir."
"Is she going to be probed first?" Eagle asked cautiously. "I have to tell you, I can't be a part of that. I hate it."
"We'll speak of this more thoroughly when you arrive." A thin line furrowed the middle of Zarn's forehead. "She will not be probed. I daresay she cannot be probed. Just bring her to Rigel immediately."
"All right, I will. But you have to do something for me in return."
A gleam appeared in Zarn's eyes. "You are a soldier in the Forces, my boy. You obey orders; you do not negotiate for rewards for doing so."
Eagle shrugged. "I don't have to be in the Forces, you know. In fact, lately I've been considering giving it all up and becoming a trader."
Zarn laughed out loud, his teeth flashing white and even. "I can see you now with some broken-down old freighter, peddling your wares among the outcasts of space." He chuckled again. "But never let it be said that I turned a de
af ear to my son. What do you want?"
"If I bring the kid to you, you take me off this post. Transfer me."
"To where?"
Eagle opened his mouth, then closed it, pressing his lips together unconsciously. To where? He didn't know.
"I'll have to think about it."
"Of course," his father conceded. "And I agree, within reason. Now, I must go. The Cabinet is meeting and I want to give them the good news. Good-bye, Eagle." His gaze softened. "Be a good boy."
Eagle laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. "IF I do that, Kalimar, I won't be able to do any of your dirty work for you. Eagle out."
The screen darkened and lowered back into the desk. He brushed one hand against his eyes. Damn, he was tired. He never got tired in space. He rubbed his eyes again before leaning over and punching into the corn unit.
"Security," he ordered the automatic linking connection. The voice of his security chief crackled back to him. "Millon here."
"Millon, bring the new arrival up to my office right away."
"Will do."
He brought up the records on the child out of curiosity. The girl's name was Mayla, no surname given. She had lived with a relative—the report was vague here, no names listed—in the Delta Quadrant on a remote world called Bezanti. A neighbor had reported suspicious actions, citing large sums of money changing hands and strange loads being carried in and out of the large shed at the back of the property. Long known as an area where pirates preyed on Zarn's ships, a squad had been sent to scope out the situation. They had found only an Andromedan child. Obeying usual procedure, the child had been processed by the officer in charge and sent on the first freighter to Station One. Now Eagle would be taking her to Rigel. But why?
Eagle rose from his chair suddenly and moved back to the window, staring up again at the stars. He didn't know and right now, he just didn't give a damn. So he'd take the kid to Rigel, and then… then maybe he'd just disappear for a while. He leaned his hands against the narrow sill at the base of the window for support. No matter what, he knew he wasn't coming back to Station One.
"Hello, Eagle."
Eagle whirled, startled to find a man standing inside his office. The intruder leaned against the wall near the door, one hand behind his back, his handsome face tilted slightly to one side. Eagle realized with alarm that the force-field protecting his office had been deactivated.
"How the hell did you—" Eagle broke off as the knowledge of who the man was hit him with the force of an afterburner. "Merciful Creator," he said softly, feeling numb inside as he gazed at the man he'd once considered his brother in arms, the man he'd left for dead a year ago, on a bloody battlefield. He staggered backward against the window, shaking his head, his voice a whisper.
"Telles. But—you're dead."
Eagle let his gaze travel over the man. He was younger than Eagle by a couple of years, and although they were both tall, Eagle had an inch or two on him, always had from the time they were children. Their physical builds and strength were still just about equal, just as they had been back before the battle for Alpha Centauri where Telles had died, slaughtered with the other brave fallen men of the Forces. But he hadn't died. He was standing right here in front of him, and he looked just the same as he had a year ago, except that now instead of the neat Forces haircut, he wore his golden blond hair past his shoulders, adorned with braids and twisted pieces of bright material.
They'd been told once, years before, that they could pass for brothers with their square jaws, aquiline noses, and long-lashed eyes. Telles's were blue-gray, Eagle's green. He'd always thought they were like two sides of the same coin; he, dark and reckless, Telles, golden and steady. He had known Telles all of his life and they had been partners, comrades. Why then was the man standing there staring at him as though he'd never seen him before?
Eagle took a quick step toward him and Telles just as quickly unfolded from the wall, bringing his hand from behind his back to reveal he held a phaser. Eagle stopped in his tracks, feeling the confusion tighten around his brain.
"Telles, I don't understand. What's this all about? How did you get here? What happened on Alpha Centauri? I thought—" A quick rush of pain flooded through Eagle's well-controlled facade and choked him. "My God, man, I held you in my arms until you stopped breathing. Then they started pulling us out. There was no time to get the wounded, let alone the dead. How—"
Telles held up one hand to stop his words. Eagle snapped his mouth shut and used the chance to pull himself together. Something was wrong. Something was very, very, wrong.
Telles took a step toward him. "Sorry to drop in on you like this, but things have changed a little since the last time we saw each other. And you're right. I died in your arms." A shadow crossed his face. "You were a good friend, Eagle."
"How can this be?" Eagle demanded, his hands flexing into fists, his heart pounding so hard in his chest it seemed to echo into his brain. "I watched you die! I saw you take your last breath!"
"Think I'm a ghost?" He smiled, then quickly sobered. "Sorry. You have no way of knowing what's happened to me—nor what's happened to you. I was dead, my friend, but I was raised from the dead, and in my new life, I'm no longer the man you once knew, so in that regard, I suppose Telles—the Telles you knew—is still dead." He gestured toward the desk and Eagle started backing toward it.
"Stop talking in riddles. What do you mean, raised from the dead? Why are you waving that thing in my face? Put it away."
" 'Fraid not. Sit down, Eagle." He pulled the chair out from behind the desk. "We have a lot to talk about."
"How did you get past the sensors?"
Telles smiled again and Eagle felt his heart turn over. How many times had he seen that cocky grin on his best friend's face? He'd never thought he'd see it again.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Telles," he said, feeling strangely awkward, "I'm—I'm glad you're alive."
The smile disappeared and Telles's tawny brows knit together over stormy blue-gray eyes. "You may not be when you learn why I'm here. There's someone I want you to meet." He kept the weapon carefully trained on Eagle as he tilted his head toward the doorway. "Mayla, honey, come on in." Telles cocked one dark brow. "Your security chief was kind enough to save me the trouble of searching for her. In fact, he was bringing her here when I, er, talked him out of accompanying us."
"You didn't kill him, did you?" Eagle asked casually, rising from his chair and leaning one thigh across his desktop. "I like that old man."
"He'll have a bad headache tomorrow, but he'll be all right."
Somewhat relieved, Eagle turned to the doorway, his mind racing as he watched the young girl walk in through the deactivated entrance. Was Telles crazy? Sometimes trauma did that to a person. If he had been left for dead and then somehow recovered, could that have driven him insane?
The girl looked to be about eleven or twelve years old, but seemed much older. There was a gravity, a maturity about her that was in stark contrast to her childlike appearance. Short, silver-blond hair curled around her oval-shaped face. Her skin was pale ivory. The long-lashed lavender eyes—a peculiar color—were round, yet tilted up at the corners. She gazed up at him, steady, unafraid. A buttonish nose and two pale pink lips were her most childish features—that and her tiny frame beneath the brown, shapeless tunic she wore. Around her neck was a chain that disappeared beneath her clothing. Some kind of jewelry. That was odd. Children sent to the station had all personal items taken from them.
Eagle frowned. Something about this child bothered him. Her gaze turned from him to Telles and he knew what it was. She was too damn calm. Most kids her age brought to Station One, wrenched from their families, were dragged in half-hysterical. This girl had a poise that, given the circumstances, was incredible. Eagle felt something tighten around his heart. There was something else about her, something that had nothing to do with her calmness. When he walked closer to her, he felt as though he were drawing near a warm fire, a so
othing heat. The closer he came to her, the more intense the sensation became until he could feel it flowing out from her, wrapping itself around him, easing itself over his tired muscles and aching limbs. He stood within the phenomenon for a moment as if mesmerized.
"She's special, Eagle."
Telles's voice brought him back to himself, and with an effort Eagle jerked himself away, backing toward the desk. Shaken to the core, he tried to hide his confusion by speaking the first thing that came to mind.
"Why do people think they can hide them? It only delays the inevitable, and it's so much harder at this age."
"You don't even know who she is, do you?" Telles asked. "You feel it, but you don't know. The great son of Zarn doesn't know."
"Who is she?" Eagle snapped. "And what do you want with her?"
"She is Mayla, the heir to the Andromedan throne. Mayla Cezan. Does that ring a bell?"
Eagle felt as though the air had been kicked from his lungs. Mayla Cezan. The youngest child of the Cezans, the decadent ruling family who had started the escalation of the power struggle between Rigel and Andromeda all those years ago. When Zarn conquered Andromeda, the Cezans had ringed their palace with the last of their soldiers. Strangely enough, it had been the Andromedans themselves who had stormed the castle and killed the royal family, blaming them for the defeat of their world by Zarn. All had perished, except for one child. She had been but a baby, not even christened, and had somehow been spirited out of the castle before the attack began. Zarn had been looking for her for the last ten years of his life, for it was said that the Cezans had bizarre and dangerous powers. He feared a Cezan would return to Andromeda and use her powers to convince the people to revolt.
"She's the heir?" Eagle whispered the words. "She's the one?"