Long ago, when P'loxett destroyed itself with nuclear warfare, the sick and dying were carried down to this place because there was no other safe place for them above ground.
They were shoved onto shelves where food and supplies had been removed for use. After a while, nobody thought to tend or remove them—even after their deaths.
The catacombs were filled with the dead. Someone had shielded the planet to keep the poison from escaping, and those things that would normally cause a body to decompose were also dead. This meant the bodies hadn't deteriorated much, even after four centuries had passed.
P'loxett was still a poisoned world—to those who hadn't been raised in the poison to begin with. When the Prophet found this place years ago, he'd designated it as a stronghold—few would be willing to assail us here, because it could destroy a living army set on its surface.
Lights in the catacombs only blinked on once you approached their section, and blinked off again once you left it. I imagined if all were illuminated at once, we'd see a virtual sea of the dead.
The Prophet would take all of them to Campiaa in four days, two days after Conclave began.
In the past year, we'd gathered and stockpiled the weapons we'd stolen from many ships, along with those the Prophet had taken away from others, most of whom held them illegally.
Why would someone report a weapon as stolen, when he shouldn't have it in the first place?
I found that humorous.
"Are Adarr Gramm and Rale Linn's forces in place?" Perill asked.
"The reports are positive," I replied. "The Prophet is quite pleased with his new criminals."
"What will he do with them once this is over?"
"No idea. You should be pleased, too—they have many ships between them. If we could have found that bitch, Jewl Yarro, we'd have even more."
"I want my own ship," Perill complained.
"We all want that," I said. "Bide your time. I think it will come soon."
"Once we take Campiaa, we can have our pick of vessels," Perill pointed out.
"We must wait for the Prophet to gift them to us," I reminded him.
"Hmmph." Perill had grown tired of waiting.
As had I. Regardless, I still valued my life and wished to keep it.
I stopped to fit dead hands more tightly about a laser rifle. It wouldn't do to have our dead troops losing their weapons—they would be sent in first, and, as our enemy had already seen, you can't kill what is already dead. Even if the dead were destroyed, the poison within them would still be released.
Campiaa and those attending Conclave would come to the Prophet's hand, and who could say what he'd do with them when all were under his thumb? Perill and I cared not; we only wished to fly among the stars, live wherever we wanted, have as much food as we wanted to eat and command those around us to bow to our will.
Eclipse Casino Hotel, Campiaa
Randl
I doubt Zanfield had ever presented such a spectacle as he did now, stepping from the Rolls-Royce Phantom after David, dressed in a driver's uniform, opened the door for him.
Zanfield slid off the leather seats as if he were a king and his subjects waited to bask in his glory.
A hotel employee rushed to take the car to a safe place, while the rest of us climbed from our van and lined up behind Zanfield.
Dori hissed and growled nicely at the crowd as she reached Zanfield's side; thousands had come to watch Zanfield's arrival. Travis and Trent, dressed in their own ASD agent uniforms, followed him as he stepped toward the doors of the hotel, which were held wide open by fawning employees.
Bekzi's snake was wrapped around Sabrina's shoulders like a shawl, and I imagined he was keeping the bulk of his weight off her by employing power, because she walked along as if she bore nothing more than a cloak.
Vik, at her side, flexed and rippled his muscles at the crowd, and there were plenty of gasps from women and men.
I stalked behind them, gazing warily about me as any good Falchani warrior should. I heard the whispers, however, when I passed the close-pressing crowd.
He's blind.
It's a blind Falchani.
How does he know where to go?
I ignored them. I'd heard those things all my life, and they wouldn't upset me now. Unerringly, I followed Vik and Sabrina, as Zanfield Staggs' parade walked into the Eclipse. A concierge and a bevy of servants waited to take us to the top floor, where others would see to our every need.
Founder's Palace
Kooper
"It's on the fucking news-vids," I pointed at the screen in Teeg's library. Opal and Kell remained silent as we watched the debacle of Zanfield's arrival at the Eclipse. The field reporter was having a news-related orgasm as he described Zanfield's outlandish parade into the hotel lobby.
"It'll be forgotten by tomorrow, when we release the rainbow birds in the pergola for early registration," Wyatt said, attempting to soothe my anger.
"Don't play diplomat with me," I snapped. "I'm enjoying my fit, thank you."
Opal stifled a snicker. Zanfield had walked into the Eclipse as if he owned it, with some of my best agents on display for anyone to see and record on their comp-vids. After thinking about it, I considered that Zanfield could buy the Eclipse and barely use a fraction of a zero in his bank balance.
"They will be fine," Kell said, his deep voice a rumble. He seldom expressed his opinions—as an ancient vampire, he was used to keeping them to himself.
"Right." My tone was only half-conciliatory.
Randl
Travis and Trent offered to take the first shift with Zanfield, who wanted to play a table game he enjoyed. The rest of us had information from Kooper regarding the Prophet's replacements.
Seven had now checked in, with rooms close in proximity on the same floor. Nearly one hundred of them could stay on the same floor if they could arrange it.
If they all came, they could take up three full floors. I didn't think we'd be so lucky as to have them all so close together.
"You know," I said as Dori brushed out her hair in my suite after changing back to herself, "I should have paid closer attention at Charla's house."
"To what?" The brush stilled for a moment as she blinked at me.
"The people in the third-floor kitchen," I said.
"Why? You saw they had the infection. What else was there?"
"Because," I walked toward her, draped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her against me, "The Prophet's people aren't used to getting fresh food of any kind. Remember that they steal packaged foods when they go pirating? They seldom take anything that will spoil quickly, and they don't steal food often enough for it to be a staple of their diet."
"That explains why they were eating like pigs in the kitchen," Dori blew out a breath.
"Hey." I tipped up her chin before settling a kiss against her mouth.
A hand curled around the back of my neck and she deepened the kiss. I admit, I sucked and nibbled on her lower lip before her tongue met mine.
We have to check out the restaurants and buffets in the casino, I sent while Dori settled into multiple kisses and her nails dug into my flesh.
We'll find them there, won't we? Damn, I want your clothes off, she added.
Baby, I want the same, but we're on the clock, remember?
She pulled away from me then, her pupils large, skin flushed and her breathing uneven. "Randl Gage, when this is over, I want you flat on your back," she hissed.
"And I want exactly the same from you," I replied.
We found six of our seven quarry in a lower-level buffet, loading their plates with fresh fish, vegetables, salads and fruit, plus fresh-baked sweets and cold desserts.
I see what you mean, Dori's sending was dry.
Do you see this, Director Griff? I asked.
I see it. It makes an ironic sort of sense that we'd find them so easily. I'll have a few agents added to the kitchen crew of the buffets—they'll get the largest amount of food for th
eir credits in those places, and unlimited servings of everything fresh that they don't see often.
They're not limited to the Eclipse, either, I reminded Kooper.
True. I'll have Jett supply some of his agents at other buffets. Keep your eyes and ears open—follow them to their suites if you can. We need their plans and we need them soon.
You don't have to remind us—we're aware that time is short.
"Do you remember the heavy perfume worn by Charla's replacement?" Dori linked her arm with mine and spoke softly as we watched six male replacements pile their plates high and eat voraciously.
"You said that," I nodded. "I couldn't smell it nearly as well as you could."
"They don't get luxuries like that, either," she pointed out. "They're still humanoid enough to want those things they can't normally get."
"Then we definitely have more places to look," I said. "I can place a tracking tag on these, here," I added. "It'll take the creation of a map to watch for them after I tag them, but I think I have solid plan, now."
Kooper, I sent, I need a room at the Founder's Palace to place a spelled map.
I can get you a small room in the library.
Good. Can you meet me there in a few?
I can be there in fifteen.
Thank you.
"Come on, sweetheart, let's head for the beach," I kissed Dori's forehead. We can fold space from there since it's dark out, now.
"I don't know how you did this, but I'm grateful," Kooper declared. Every casino—in miniature—with six small, bright dots moving about the Eclipse, was depicted in a floating, three-dimensional map inside the room Kooper obtained for us.
"I can have somebody watching this at all times," he added.
"That's the idea—to keep an eye on them and watch for a crowd of them to congregate together, or go someplace in the city where they shouldn't be," I said.
I rolled my shoulders—creating this map had been taxing, since I still wasn't at full strength.
"We may have another wrinkle to deal with, too," Kooper said.
"What's that?"
"The six worlds that house the six major logging industries are pushing for tourism in their own forests," Kooper replied. "It's weird, because parts of their forests are planetary parks set aside for tourism, and the loggers can't touch any part of that."
"What's weird about it? Most planets have places like that," Dori said.
"It's weird to me because the logging concerns have never attempted to get those sanctions lifted in any part of that. You'd think most businesses would want to work on their home world. That's why I think it's weird."
"I'll try to go by their displays sometime tomorrow, to see if I can get anything from the attendants," I said.
"I'd like a full report after you do."
"All right. I think I'm ready to hand the reins over to David and Vik for a while," I added. "This sort of drained me." I nodded to the images I'd created.
"Then go. Keep me updated, and I'll pass information to Jett."
"All right."
I folded Dori back to our bedroom in Zanfield's enormous suite. She almost had my shirt off while kissing me when her sister contacted her comp-vid.
Dori's parents had arrived and wanted to see us.
Nathan and Lavonna Anderson had been taken to the mountain retreat, so that's where I folded us after dressing more warmly.
Nathan was a vampire—one of the few who could walk in daylight. Lavonna was a shapeshifting lioness, which stood to reason, as both her daughters were large cats, too.
"Tell Daddy what you see," Cori said after initial introductions were made. Cori and Marco stood close by, waiting for Nathan to make a determination in my case.
"Celtic," I said. "Made vampire by Aedan Evans in the sixteenth century as Earth measures time. Would you like me to go on?"
"I don't normally tell anyone that much about me," Nathan snorted.
"You don't normally run into someone like me," I shrugged. "I hope I haven't offended you in any way. My blindness seems to offend Marco, for some reason, although his brother Sal didn't seem to mind it a bit when he taught me how to fight with blades."
None of us missed Marco's indrawn breath.
"Somebody say my name?" Salidar appeared wearing a wide grin.
"Ah. Now we can make the announcement," I said. "Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, you're going to be grandparents. Marco and Cori are pregnant."
"You dog," Sal rushed his brother and slapped him on the back. Lavonna Anderson was in tears as she hugged her daughter. Nathan waited for Lavonna to pull away before he hugged Cori.
"Family reunion," I said dryly to Dori. She laughed and kissed me.
"What can you tell me about this mess?" Nathan and I sat in the man cave having a drink together.
"Not much that I'm allowed to tell. I will say this, though. Cori will be granted leave the moment she tells the Director she's pregnant. You and your wife should leave before Conclave starts, and take Cori with you."
"You think a showdown is coming, don't you?" Nathan sipped his whiskey with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Yes. I don't know what it is, or what damage it will end up doing."
"You'll keep Dorilou safe?"
"As safe as I can. I will give my life for her, if it comes to it."
"I wouldn't believe most people if they said that to me," Nathan said. "But I have a story to tell you."
"What's that?"
"You are favored by Zaria, who is favored by the Three. I have no problem with you courting my youngest. I think she'll want to marry you eventually, though. That's the kind of person she is."
"Good. I was worried about asking her," I breathed. "When I do, maybe she'll say yes."
Nathan laughed. For an old vampire, that was an unusual thing.
I saw Pap before Dori and I went back to the Eclipse. He was still troubled by the vision from the coin. He pretended not to be affected, but he couldn't hide it from me. I think he knew that and put up the façade anyway.
"I don't know about you, but that wore me out," Dori admitted when we arrived in our suite.
"We have to be awake again in less than six hours," I agreed.
"Sleep it is," Dori yawned.
"Yeah."
Fuck being a realist, I reminded myself.
Chapter Eighteen
Eclipse Hotel and Casino, Campiaa
Randl
I have a message for you from Chief Markus, Travis sent the moment I wandered into the main room of Zanfield's suite, looking for tea or coffee to help me wake. Dori was still sleeping—I'd folded myself out of bed so I wouldn't wake her ocelot.
What's the message? I asked. Travis sat on a sofa next to a very tall, very wide window with an exceptional view of Campiaa Bay. We weren't talking aloud because Zanfield was buttering his toast at the breakfast bar across the massive room.
He says that the tourism table for Northon is giving away polished wooden balls as gifts.
Somebody let that through? Isn't that a violation of the rules? Let me guess, those were supplied by WildTree Industries, whose main offices are on Northon.
Yes. They've already given out quite a few, but I asked Kooper to have that shut down. They're giving out electronic postcards, now.
Where the hell did the wood come from to make those things? I asked. Northon doesn't want their forests cut down—it's in their laws.
We didn't ask. Chief Markus became suspicious, so he wants you to look at the people running the booth and display.
I'll go there after I'm cleaned up and dressed, I said.
Want me to come with you?
If you want.
Where is the supply of wooden balls now?
They removed them, but I have no idea where they are.
I'll try to find out. Something about this made my brain itch, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.
"Tea's on the counter," Travis said aloud.
"Good. I need to wake up."
Zanfield was curious about what had passed between Travis and me—I could see it in him when I approached the breakfast bar and reached for a cup to fill with tea. A hotel employee had brought in a full breakfast, including drinks, and the tea and coffee was kept at the proper temperature in a warming pot.
"You have mindspeech," Zanfield crunched into his toast. It wasn't an accusation, merely a statement of fact.
"Yes." I wasn't going to lie to him. There was a stubborn, slightly narcissistic streak about Zanfield, but the man could keep secrets.
"Lucky you," Zanfield said after he chewed and swallowed.
"Hmmph." I added honey to my tea and stirred the dark liquid in a delicate cup. I'd prefer a mug, but that hadn't been supplied.
"Luck has nothing to do with it," Travis said as he joined me to refill his cup. The cups supplied were only a third of the size of a mug I preferred and would therefore need to be refilled several times.
"Are those real Falchani tattoos on your arms?" Zanfield turned to Travis.
"As real as you are." Travis poured tea and sipped.
"Yet you work for the ASD."
"Sure do."
"They allow tattoos?"
"In special cases. You haven't seen the one Randl has, yet."
"You have a tattoo?" Zanfield was very interested.
"On my back."
"Show me. Please."
I hadn't bothered to button the shirt I'd slipped on. I let it slide down my arms and turned so Zanfield could see the tattoo.
"Sun, moon and eye. There's an ancient story about that," Zanfield breathed.
"What ancient story?" Travis asked as I pulled my shirt up and turned around to reach my tea.
"About the god who could see everything, whether it was day, night, or hidden in the heart," Zanfield shrugged. "Is that why you asked for those images? To reflect that tale?"
"I didn't request it," I said. "It was given to me by the tattoo artist."
"Then he must be familiar with the tale. It's a lovely rendering of the idea," Zanfield said. "Where are you two going?"
MindMage: BlackWing Pirates, Book 2 Page 24