by Ben Hale
“Ero Bright’Lor,” Telik said, his tone cold. “I’m surprised to get a beamcast from you.”
Telik had lost weight since Ero had seen him. He’d always been thin, but he was almost gaunt, his cheeks pulled against his jawline. He was of House Torn’Ent by birth, his red eyes conveying a depth of intelligence. His hair was black and cut short, but frayed, like he’d done it with his own hand.
“Can’t I call an old friend?” Ero asked.
“Friends don’t exist in the Empire,” Telik said coldly. “Only allies and enemies.”
Ero grinned at the krey saying. “It’s been what, a hundred years since we talked?”
“A hundred and ten,” Telik said. “I figured that like all my other former allies, you abandoned me.”
“What did you expect?” Ero said. “The Reckoning found you guilty of trying to augment slaves. It’s one of the highest crimes a krey can commit.”
“Not as high as developing an unsanctioned weapon and destroying a planet.”
Ero chuckled wryly. “It was an off day.”
Telik leaned in. “The first of many, I’m sure. How does it feel to have your House plummet like a meteor into a sun?”
“Hot,” Ero admitted. “But we’re not dead yet.”
“It won’t be long now,” Telik said. “I watch the vids. Your father managed to delay his tribunal, but how could you possibly get enough glint in forty years to save your House?”
“We have a plan.”
“You never did know when to quit,” Telik said with a sneer.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t forgiven me for your visit to Kelindor,” Ero said. “That was two hundred years ago.”
“A short time, by krey standards.”
“Not many krey have managed to tip a helgin while they’re sleeping. Besides, your hair grew back, and you have to admit, you had fun.”
Telik sniffed and looked away. “I admit nothing.”
Telik’s features had thawed a few degrees. The notoriously sullen krey had never been friendly, but the fact that he was even talking to Ero marked his desire to form an alliance.
Ero leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. “What have you been working on?”
“This and that,” Telik said.
“Are you interested in earning some glint?”
“How much?”
Ero’s smile widened. In Telik’s fall from grace, he’d burned every ally he had, even Ero, who’d been forced to cut off contact. He probably still owed glint to a few Houses who would love to get their hands on him. As a result, the fallen scientist trusted no one, but he always needed glint.
“Better discussed in person,” Ero said.
Silence, and Ero wondered if Telik would refuse. He’d become paranoid in seclusion and rarely accepted visitors. If he refused, Ero would know they were no longer allies.
But Telik broke the silence. “I’ll send you the Gate coordinates.”
“You moved again?”
“Always.” Telik’s voice carried a trace of rancor.
A corner of the hologram blinked with coordinates, and the beamcast ended.
Ero departed his quarters and returned to the bridge. Poking his head through the opening, he called out to Skorn, “Found an ally. I’ll be back soon.”
“Who?”
“Just an old friend.”
“There are no friends in the Empire.” Skorn rotated in his seat to regard Ero. “Who?”
“Telik.”
Skorn’s features were incredulous. “You can’t be serious. Just knowing him will get you jettisoned into a star.”
“He’s as desperate as we are.” Ero ticked the reasons off on his fingers. “He needs glint. He’s smart. And he still has plenty of connections into the slave markets.”
“Anyone but him.”
“There is no one else.” Ero swept a hand to their dilapidated ship. “No one wants to associate with us either, or have you forgotten how far we have fallen?”
“He’s going to want something in return,” Skorn muttered, his features dark. “An alliance with him will lead to ruin.”
“I’ll take that as agreement.”
Ero retreated and opened the neighboring compartment, which contained a small Gate, just large enough for a single dakorian. Ero stepped to the controls and entered the coordinates, but it was too far for their small Gate, so he risked opening a portal to Zelium.
When he reached Zelium, he had to wait to use the planet’s World Gate to link to Telik’s refuge. Ero scanned the handful of visible krey for Ilbin, but the dour krey did not appear. When the World Gate connected, he stepped through the portal and exited at Telik’s coordinates.
He’d expected to find a structure equally as aged as the Nova. Or perhaps a moon base with rusted seracrete walls and the smell of mold. Instead, he stood in a clean corridor with curving walls and windows.
Ero approached a window and looked out, surprised to realize he stood inside an asteroid. The constellations were unfamiliar, suggesting they were on the outer rim of the Empire. Slowly rotating, the large asteroid was obviously in a belt, its location further obscured by the thousands of other stones. The rotation gradually brought a planet into view.
The brown-and-tan world was a gas giant, and the asteroid belt orbited the world, a secret refuge probably hidden in an uninhabited system and inside the rings of a planet.
Ero turned when footsteps approached. “Paranoid much?” he asked.
“Not enough,” Telik replied. “There’s still a few Houses that think I owe them glint. I’d rather not meet another bounty hunter.”
He scratched his arm, where an ugly scar was still healing. When he noticed the motion, he jerked his hand away. Ero pretended not to notice as he admired the station.
Telik was shorter than most krey, his body as thin as his face on the vid. At one time he’d once been Primus of Dedliss, but that was ages ago. His expert management of the slaves inside the Bone Crucible had garnered the attention of the Emperor, leading to his appointment as High Scientist on Valana.
Dressed in a gray robe with red trim, Telik wore colors that highlighted the red in his eyes, making him appear more sinister. His smile came easily, but the expression conveyed a darkness that Ero had always found disturbing.
“This is nicer than I expected,” Ero said as he swept his hand around the station.
Telik led the way down the corridor. “That’s one thing I like about you, Ero. You don’t care about causing offense.”
“Too many krey are hiding behind their words,” Ero lamented. “Our corruption should be open for all to see.”
“Indeed.”
Telik motioned him to follow, and they walked the length of the corridor, which culminated in a funnel shape. The floor gradually curved outward, the gravity warped through the slope. The seracrete plating turned to grass as they entered a giant sphere—the inside of an inverse biosphere.
Inverse space stations had been quite popular several centuries ago, but had gradually fallen out of favor. The inside of the great sphere resembled the surface of a world, complete with grass, trees, streams, and even hills. The inverse contained an artificial sun in the center, bathing the entire chamber in light. Clouds formed and drifted close to the sunspot, with a storm cloud raining on the opposite side of the biosphere. Trees and other vegetation grew on the inner surface, with a handful of slaves working the farms on the topmost arc. The station’s drive warped the gravity, pulling everything outward and giving the chamber its name.
“How did you build this?” Ero gestured at the inverse. “We both know you couldn’t afford to purchase an inverse station.”
“It belonged to an old ally,” Telik said, using a sweeping hand to indicate the artificially sustained environment. His smile was more a sneer. “He made the mistake of siding with my enemies at my tribunal.”
“Where is he buried?” Ero asked.
“In the seventh quadrant.” Telik motioned to a stand of
trees near the slave farms.
“Is that where I’m going to end up?” Ero asked.
“Only if you betray me.” His smile showed too much teeth to be comforting. “Now, what do you want?”
“I’m working on a special project.” Ero said. “And I need a few slaves.”
“You can lie to everyone else…” Telik chuckled. “But not to me. You’ve fallen as far as I have, and now you’re desperate. How many slaves do you want?”
“A core stock of slaves for a harvest world. Cheap.”
Telik folded his arms. “I don’t have access to slaves anymore, and even if I did, you couldn’t afford them.”
Telik’s voice sounded normal, but Ero heard a trace of evasiveness. What was he up to? Was he involved in experimenting again? Ero hoped he hadn’t stopped experimenting.
“You were always so crafty.” Ero kept his tone matter of fact. “I’m sure you have connections with the black-market traders.”
“I’ll send you to some that might have some surplus stock.”
Definitely evasive. Ero smiled to himself, pleased that Telik had continued with his research. Although the tribunal had tried to describe the research as an abject failure, Telik had claimed he was close to a breakthrough.
“You wouldn’t be holding back, now would you? Not with an old friend.”
“I don’t have friends.”
“Am I not an ally?” Ero feigned a wounded voice. “Or are you going to tell me you’re not experimenting again?”
Telik regarded him with a cold stare, one that probably had caused other krey to tremble in fear. But Ero knew Telik. The krey loved his work, the splicing and blending of genetic code. His intelligence was only rivaled by his ruthlessness. But no krey could survive long in the Empire without allies.
“And if I am?” Telik finally asked.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ero noticed a panel in the forest floor open, followed by a lance rising into view. The weapon glowed as it powered. Its rod was pointed at Ero, and it would melt him to slag with a single ion bolt. Ero’s laughter drifted through the forest as he pointed at the lance.
“Your caution is admirable.”
“And your lack of it is appalling.” Telik wasn’t smiling. “Speak quickly, ally. What are you up to?”
“House Bright’Lor is investing in a harvest world.”
“How?” Telik demanded. “You don’t have enough glint to cover your father’s Condemnation, let alone the stock to seed a planet.”
“It’s possible we do not intend to pay for the slaves . . . or the world.”
“You’re going to steal a world?”
Telik’s tone was incredulous, but also impressed. For all his cunning, Telik admired allies with intelligence, and stealing a world from the Empire was an elegant plan. It also defied the Emperor, one thing Telik dearly wanted to do.
“We have a map of the outer systems,” Ero said. “And once we choose a world, we’ll remove it from the Empire’s primary cortex. Then we just need a stock of slaves.”
“Why tell me all this?”
Ero extended a hand toward Telik. “Because I’m hoping you’ve figured out a way to augment slaves, making them far more valuable. And that’s exactly what we need.”
“You think I’d join such a dangerous endeavor?” He scoffed. “You’re going to steal a world, populate it with illegal slaves, and then sell them on the black market. If you’re discovered, the Emperor won’t be satisfied with sending you into a star. He’ll have you tortured in public. There will be vids of your agony for years, until he finally lets you die.”
“And you are enhancing slaves,” Ero countered. “Manipulating the genetic code of humans is grounds for immediate execution—unless you are backed by a powerful new House. You got lucky last time, but we both know if you are caught again, you’ll be dead in a month.”
Telik laughed lightly. “For all the attributes a krey may possess, it seems we lack integrity.”
“Of course we do,” Ero said. “But we make up for it in profit. House Bright’Lor will control the harvest world, and you will get to augment an entire populace, giving you the recognition we both know you want. Do we have a deal?”
“Perhaps.”
Telik’s expression reminded Ero of the tar pits on the moons of Urgin, and he idly wondered if his brother Belgin was still there. He was Ero’s least favorite sibling, and he had disappeared after their House fell.
“I need a few more slaves,” Telik finally said. “To finish one last experiment.”
“You have not already augmented a slave?” Ero frowned. “I assumed you had completed your work.”
“Do you have any idea how many scientists have tried to enhance the human genome? Thousands. Do you know how many succeeded? None. I am closer than anyone in the Empire’s history, and all I need are a few more slaves for a final experiment to prove my results.”
“And you can’t get them yourself?”
“The Empire has banned me from purchasing slaves”—Telik’s lips curled in disgust—“and my last intermediary was caught and killed. Now I cannot even access the black-market cages.”
“How many do you need?”
“A dozen should be enough.”
“And the stock for our slave world?” Ero asked.
“I’ll tell you how we can get them,” Telik said. “But I get fifty percent of the glint when they’re sold.”
Ero burst into a laugh and turned toward the exit, ignoring the lance that rotated to keep him targeted. Telik could have just killed him there, but doing so would probably destroy his final ally. Telik caught up as Ero walked down the funnel to the entrance corridor.
“Forty percent,” Telik said.
“I didn’t realize you had a sense of humor,” Ero said. “I’m sure that will keep you company when you are hiding for an eternity.”
“Thirty percent will barely cover my costs.”
“Ten percent of a harvest world—one filled with augmented slaves—will be enough to buy an entire House.”
“So will twenty.”
Ero stepped to the Gate and activated it with a touch. “I hope you’ll keep our conversation in the utmost confidence. As I will for you.” A touch of warning crept into his voice.
Telik scowled, and another lance appeared in the corridor wall, extending to point at Ero. “I could just kill you here.”
“Nine percent.” Ero tapped his chin.
“That’s not how negotiation works!” Telik shouted. “And I have all the power.”
“You have a beautiful station,” Ero said. “But the slaves I spotted on your farms were holograms, so you are probably totally alone—as you will remain unless you accept my offer. Eight percent.”
“Your life is in my hands!” Telik’s voice turned shrill.
“Seven percent.”
The lance fired, streaking over Ero’s shoulder and burning into the corridor plating on the opposite side.
Ero brushed at the black mark on his cloak in annoyance. “Six percent, and you have to buy me a new cloak.”
“I’ll follow your plan on my own!” Telik screamed, his eyes flashing with anger and hatred. “Then I’ll keep all of the profits for myself!”
“Five percent.”
“Never!”
Ero looked at Telik with pity. “We call the humans weak because they do not like to be alone, but we both know that we need the same elements they do. Shelter, food, water, and companionship. Enjoy your solitude, Telik. I hope you don’t go mad.”
He turned and put a foot through the Gate, half expecting Telik to burn a hole through his back. But he passed through the Gate, unharmed, and arrived on Zelium. He shivered at the blast of arctic wind. Unlike Mylttium, the World Gate did not have an operator, so he inserted the coordinates for the Nova himself, using the crystal in his arm to input the required code. Just as he finished, a shout drew his attention, and he looked up.
“Ero!” Ilbin bellowed, sprinting toward him with h
is hulking dakorian at his side.
“Time to go.” Ero chuckled to himself as he activated the Gate and retreated back to his ship. The moment he was back onboard, he remotely erased the log of where he’d gone and powered down the Gate. Then he returned to the bridge.
“That was fast,” Skorn said. “What did Telik say?”
“We need to get a dozen slaves for him,” Ero replied. “Then he’ll tell us how to get the stock for a harvest world.”
“That’s it?”
“He also wants to join our endeavor.”
“No,” Skorn said flatly. “We have no need for a disgraced scientist.”
“He has no glint, but he possesses an inverse station, one from which we can control our harvest world. We need him.”
Skorn grimaced, his expression distasteful. Ero’s plan was only logical, and he knew Skorn would agree. Ero claimed the copilot’s seat and reached for the blinking light at the corner of the control panel. He smiled as he activated it, and two words floated in a hologram above the panel.
Five percent.
Skorn noticed the text. “Please tell me he’s not going to try to enhance our slaves. We’re already engaged in enough illegal activities.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Ero turned away so his brother wouldn’t see his smile.
Chapter Twelve
Siena lurched awake, the memory of her last agonizing seconds burned into her eyelids. She raised a hand to her forehead with a groan. Then she gingerly touched her throat and traced the mark burned into the hollow. A concave triangle, bound inside a circle.
Ferox.
She grimaced at the dreaded brand. Slaves that possessed the mark of ferox were given the harshest labor, brutal punishments, and died early. It was the mark of execution, pronounced because of rebellion. Her hands trembled as she thought of what lay in her future, but then she clenched her fingers into fists. It was worth it to see Laurik so humiliated.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she stood and examined her cell. A single room, bereft of adornments except for a drain in a corner, a door, and a window. Her eyes widened when she approached the window—and saw stars.
A ship. She was on a ship. And judging by the curve of the hull, a big one. Probably Bensin’s vessel. She couldn’t recall the ship’s name. Something obscenely grandiose. She circled the room and returned to the window, watching the stars.