“Apparently quite well,” he replied with a touch of awe. “I’ve got hundreds of minor nobles and family members I need to engage.”
Izar stretched his long legs out in front of him and leaned his hands on the side of the pool. “With each system my fleets have taken down, I’ve been able to set up new regimes which answer to me, harvest the fear of the native species to feed the nobility, and move reptilian populations out of Rastaban. I had my warships redesigned and fitted to carry saur cages and transports, and stepped up Torg and saur breeding to control the conquered populations.”
“And your fleets?”
“I have highly productive plants on Karkir and four other Rastabanian worlds which produce warships, fighters, transports, and freighters, none of which I sell. I’ve been building my fleets for centuries, hidden in underground bases all over Rastaban and my other territories. Tashek has been frantic to figure out what I’m doing for eons—he sends in spies, I kill them, but I make sure a few get back to him with false information, enough to keep him frustrated and guessing, which is why he hasn’t moved openly against me like he did my father. He’s terrified of me. Saryn told me years ago that he’s seen his death in my eyes and I fully intend to make that happen.”
Bálok nodded somberly, measuring the deadly resolution and calculating intelligence behind the cool green eyes across from him. His instincts told him beyond all doubt that if anyone could wrestle the Empire away from the degenerate Gorans, it was this man. “What about the destroyers? A small one alone can decimate a fleet of warships in minutes and a single moon can hold an entire planet hostage with beams to the surface.”
Izar sat forward with an ardent look. “I suspect the moons are a lot more powerful than that, Bálok. Tashek’s ancestors didn’t build those things and I doubt the idiot knows who did. That technology is way beyond any Drahkian ability I’m aware of, but if I could get inside one of them with some of my top engineers, I could find out if my hunch is correct.”
“What is it you think they can do?”
“Besides generate the destructive beams we know about? For starters, control planetary functions like rotation, orbital path, axial tilt, magnetic fields, weather, seismic events. Ultimately, I’m certain one of those beasts could blow a planet to bits.”
“Fucking hell, if Tashek knew what he had—”
“I’d be dead, and so would everyone else on Karkir, at the very least, but it wouldn’t stop there, you can be sure.”
“We’ve got to get them away from the Gorans, Izar,” Bálok fretted, rubbing one hand anxiously over his face.
“Yes, we do. With one destroyer, Bálok—just one—we can seize the rest of Tashek’s fleet. I want them all.”
Bálok blinked several times as the ramifications seeped under his skin and took hold. “My god, Izar, if we have weapons like that behind us, no one can stop us.” He looked up at the shining moon hanging in the black night sky above them and when he lowered his gaze to meet Izar’s, his eyes were bright, his expression feral.
Izar’s pupils dilated in response. “This is the man I came here to find,” he whispered raggedly as a shiver worked its way up his spine. He sat and regarded Bálok in potent silence before finding his voice again.
“We’re a savage, ravenous race,” he stated at length. “We need to harness it and turn it outward to survive. There’s a whole galaxy out there full of valuable technologies and sublimely harvestable species. What I’ve accomplished up to now is a drop in the ocean of what we could have. With the interstellar technology we already possess, we can turn this decaying Empire around, especially if those destroyers are as powerful as I believe they are.”
“Do you think any of the Gorans might actually join you?”
“And accept me as their ruler? I doubt it. Burdek is the only one who might have. He was looking for a champion to defend his dominion over Alrakis aurum production.”
“So that’s what it was. He approached me in the throne room the night we got here, but fled in terror from Majah before I found out what he wanted.”
Izar nodded. “I thought he might look for you. Majah and several others had been gunning for his territory the past several years. Time will tell which one of them got to him last night. As to the rest of the Gorans falling into line? I don’t see it happening. They’ve been ruling the Empire for so long, they can’t see past their blind assumption of superiority. You’ve seen how everyone behaves in the tournament—it’s gotten to be racial. The Gorans will fight to the last man. We’ll probably have to wipe them all out.”
“I can’t say I’d miss any of the blood-drinking perverts,” Bálok growled in his throat, shivering at the recollection of having to endure Tashek’s disgusting habits and touch just a few short hours ago.
“Who knows where they picked up that twisted fetish. They take too much aurum,” Izar remarked acerbically. “They think more is better, but it makes them crazy. Their addictions are out of control.”
Bálok looked at him askance. “And ours aren’t?”
“I suppose we all have our dependencies,” Izar admitted. “The gold gives us our advantage—health, longevity, a never-ending supply of sustenance—it keeps us dominant. We’re not about to give that up. The key is to control it, use it. Are you addicted to anything besides aurum and women?”
“No,” Bálok snapped, irked at the apparent widespread interest in his sexual proclivities.
“Good. With so much dope running through Drahkian gentry, it would be a major problem if any of the leaders I depend on are seriously fucked up on anything.”
“What are you addicted to, Izar?”
The Rastabanian let out a self-mocking snort. “Isn’t it obvious? For me, it’s the game. I can’t turn it off—my head swims constantly with patterns and events. I see through people’s facades, read their behaviors, motivations, flaws, and understand exactly how to manipulate each one of them. The stimulation of maneuvering people across the board is … intoxicating.”
A wave of uneasiness ran through Bálok’s gut. The sensation of being exposed or vulnerable was one he detested, and Izar’s frankness about his gifts was both beguiling and threatening. “Is that how you plan to harness the Empire?”
Izar nodded. “Yes—assess what each Ka leader can do, figure out what he wants, and, if it fits within the gameplan, give it to him. If not, find a way to motivate him to play ball, and if he step out of bounds, take him out of the game. The lower reptilian races have been brutalized by the Gorans for thousands of years. If I raise their status, give them dominion over other races, they’ll have incentive to be part of building out the Empire. It’s a simple formula.
“As soon as we get past the Goran dilemma and take over the destroyers, we’ll blast out of Draco like bats out of hell—reconquer what we’ve lost and push out into new territory. Expansion rights will be doled out according to ability and loyalty, just like I’ve done with my house. And you, Bálok—” he said, pushing off the sides of the pool and rising to his feet, stretching lazily in the moonlight as the water ran in rivulets back down into the pool. “Once you take off, I don’t see you stopping. As far as I’m concerned, you can have all the power you want, all the wealth you want, all the territory you want, because I know you can hold it.”
As Izar climbed out of the water, Bálok rose at his end of the pool and stepped up onto the pavement. “What about the other Ka leaders? Are they ready to support you?”
“Tirgal’s been the ruler of his clans in three systems for a long, long time and is completely disgusted with Tashek.”
“I got the same impression when I spoke with him before the games began,” Bálok observed as they walked back across the pavement toward the long tiled wall under the eaves. “He certainly wasn’t afraid to show his support of you in the arena.”
“Yeah, he’s got balls—he’s solid, dependable, wants new territory for his scads of sons, grandsons, and clansmen. Daga’s sharp as a whip and I’m sure you earned Tirgal’
s undying gratitude for saving Daga’s life today. Come to think of it, you probably also won Shahr’s loyalty for killing Majah. That could be a real boon,” he reflected thoughtfully as he pulled a towel off of a rack at the end of the shower area and tossed it to Bálok.
“Why? Isn’t he on board with your plans?”
“Shahr’s a little too comfortable with his small kingdom in Altais and doesn’t want to commit until I take down the destroyers. That may change now if you’re with me.”
“He’s also pissed as hell at Tashek over losing Zan.”
“Another example of shitty leadership for not reining in such a loose cannon like Majah in the first place. Shahr’s not a man to trifle with. He’s been building extensive power and wealth right under Tashek’s nose through his ‘Altain Collective’ which he protects like a zealous parent. You’ve seen two of their best leaders fighting with us in the lists.”
“Ushak and Tivas—I’ve been impressed with both of them. Ushak’s got a cool head on his shoulders. Tirgal and I watched him walk away from one of Tashek’s poisonous offspring the first night we were here.”
“Good to know,” Izar replied, no doubt filing the tidbit away in his vast repository of useful intel as he dropped his towel to the floor and reached for his scattered clothing. “You really scared the piss out of Nakkár today,” he remarked with a chuckle. “Did you have to rip the skin off the poor bastard?”
“He was a royal pain in my backside ten years ago,” Bálok grumbled, standing with both hands on his hips while Izar dressed.
“I know. Who do you think got him off your tail?” Izar looked up with a smile at Bálok’s surprise. “He was young and reckless and needed to be directed. I knew you’d kill him if he didn’t stop harassing your trade routes and I saw he’d be useful, so I helped him take Grumium from Arikul. He owes me—he’ll follow my orders.”
“What about Súlanan?”
“That one’s just greedy. He can be bought.”
“He’s such an ass.”
“Yeah, he is. You and Rall did a real number on him out there, but he’ll recover. I doubt he’ll be crossing you again anytime soon and, for the right price, he’ll fall into line.”
Slipping into his soft boots, Izar stood, casually crossing his arms in front of him and cocking his head to the side. “Tell me, where do you get the interstellar navigational equipment for all your ships?”
“Right now, the imperial distributor. Shit,” Bálok frowned, disgusted with himself for not seeing such a critical factor sooner.
“So do I. I don’t know how much I’ve spent in bribes to be able to buy as much as I need to build out my fleets.”
“I don’t know where they get it or even who builds it.”
“It’s not Drahkian technology and it’s all coming from somewhere in the Orion Territories.”
“Mardukan,” Bálok hissed, his eyes widening in avid excitement at the prospect of taking over the source of such valuable and vital devices.
“I know what you’re thinking, but I need you here in Draco with me until this is finished,” Izar stated, narrowing his eyes and watching him closely. “I’m sending Eo after Mardukan to take over his territory and find the makers of the gold stargate technology.”
Bálok froze where he stood as the bottom fell out of his stomach. For several long heartbeats, he could do nothing more than gape at the man who held him captive with his all-seeing green gaze. “It was you, wasn’t it?” he croaked past his tightening throat.
Izar tipped his head once. “I killed Ukúr last night—one shot. You and your men were up on the hillside watching.”
“Why?” Bálok managed to spit out, barely able to hold onto a rising swell of furious indignation.
“Ukúr was hesitant about taking up arms against the Emperor, but Eo was ready to commit. He’s conniving, shrewd, and ruthless—he’ll tear Mardukan to pieces and bring the gold to me. I gave him the rulership of Gianfar—he’ll do what I tell him.”
Bálok flinched as if Izar had struck him. “Did you tell him not to fight?”
“Yes.”
“Damn you,” he whispered and turned away as an uncontrollable shaking took over and wouldn’t let go.
“I had a feeling it was Eo,” Izar said tightly behind him. “Is that why you exploded like a demon out there today?”
Bálok stood and shook, refusing to acknowledge Izar’s point-blank accusation.
“God damn it, Bálok,” Izar swore in frustration. “Don’t shut down on me now, not when we’ve come this far.”
In the next instant Izar slammed into him from behind, grabbed his wrists and threw him against the tiled wall, holding him pinned with the length of his body. “What the hell did he do to you?” Izar snarled angrily next to his ear.
A broken sound tore out of Bálok’s chest as he fought to push himself away from the wall, but Izar’s equal mass held him snared like a trapped animal.
“It must have been bad,” Izar flared. “Every time I get close, you shut me out. He’s your weak spot, isn’t he, Bálok? The signs are all there—tightly controlled, intensely private, hooked on sex but unmated with only one heir, aroused by killing yet meticulously clean—what is it you can’t wash off?”
Bálok’s body jerked violently as the image of Tiga’s torn flesh seared through his mind.
“It was your wife, wasn’t it?” Izar hammered relentlessly. “And she meant more to you than a broodmare. That’s where you’re stuck! Look at you, if you were thinking straight, you’d never have let me pin you like this.”
“Fuck you!” he grated between clenched teeth.
“Listen to me—you can’t have Eo, Bálok,” Izar growled fiercely. “No matter how much he deserves your wrath, there’s more at stake than your personal vendetta. You’re an intelligent man—look at the big picture. I need Eo’s ruthlessness and I need your rage—don’t waste it on Eo, Bálok, give it to me!”
“Get away from me!” he shouted, struggling violently to break free of Izar’s iron hold, shrieking with every wrench of his muscles. When he felt Izar harden against him, he cried out with blind fury.
“That’s it! Let it out—scream at me!” Izar yelled harshly, grinding his cock into the small of Bálok’s back, bringing howls of rage tearing from Bálok’s throat. “It’s a beast needing to feed,” Izar bellowed over Bálok’s cries, “look it in the eye and command it, then let it run after something that matters!”
An unfettered scream of pain ripped from Bálok’s lungs, piercing the stranglehold that had gripped his mind. Abruptly he stopped thrashing against Izar and closed his eyes as the tension began to seep out of him into the ground. The anger was still there, but he could think again and he swallowed hard, struggling to calm his labored breathing and bring his body back under control.
Izar relaxed his grip and held himself still while Bálok worked through the aftermath of his internal storm. His quiet breathing next to Bálok’s face was shuddering and ragged, and Bálok became dimly aware that Izar was fighting to master his own body’s demands. “Oh god you feel so good,” Izar whispered in a barely audible voice before he pushed himself off and walked away.
Leaning back from the tile, Bálok slid his arms together on the wall and let his head fall forward. He could feel Izar’s presence a dozen paces away, standing and watching him from the darkness.
“It runs so deep in you, Bálok,” Izar rasped hoarsely. “If you claim your power over your rage, my god, you’ll be … magnificent.”
Without another sound, he was gone.
Bálok sniffed to clear his head and pulled in steady breaths, gradually easing the residual quaking in his flesh. Izar’s words stung. He didn’t want to look the beast in the eye. Before Izar’s invasion, he’d had his inner demons securely locked away—or so he’d thought. And now this presumptuous man was telling him to let them loose?
Even if he did leash the beast, he was still no closer to a livable solution to Tashek’s threat. He was bloody sic
k and tired of being pinned by someone else’s constraints. A small laugh escaped him at the irony of his thoughts—perhaps the damned Rastabanian was right and it was time to let go of his own constraints.
Pushing away from the wall, Bálok turned and stalked out across the pavement, heading around the bathing pool toward the bedroom on the far side to let his body drop for some much-needed sleep. At the end of the pool, he paused and glanced up at the glaring moon overhead.
He had no fucking clue what he was going to do in the arena tomorrow, but he knew with sudden clarity that he and his beast were going hunting.
For the third time, Bálok stood in the wide hallway leading into the arena, listening to the buzz of the packed stands just ahead. Jimat stood beside him, edgy and broodingly silent. The astute man was painfully cognizant that something disturbing had gone on in their quarters during the night, but since he was probably punishing himself for not preventing it from happening, Bálok refrained from telling him about Izar’s unexpected raid.
The two other finalists, Bardur and Mardukan, were already out on the floor and the sharp spike in noise told him Izar had just entered the arena from the airfield entrance. One of the officials came running from the end of the hall with an anxious look. “Lord Bálok, the whole stadium is waiting for you!”
Lowering his gaze, Bálok stared unblinkingly at the nervous man until he cowered and backed away. The crowds could wait. He had provided them a thrilling taste of blood yesterday and would again today as soon as he stepped into the ring.
When he was damned good and ready, Bálok walked down the hall toward the sound of chaotic voices. The moment he stepped out onto the floor, the audience came to its feet and exploded into uproarious cheering, wild and hungry for more of what he’d given them. The invigorating energy washed through his flesh as he walked nonchalantly toward the three fighters at the center of the floor and headed directly for Izar. He met the green eyes evenly and walked in a slow circle around the Rastabanian lord, causing a stir of excitement to ripple through the arena. Completing his circuit around Izar, he walked out across the open floor and raised his arm to point straight at Eo, sending yet another wave of astonishment coursing through the stands as he stalked back to the front of the finalists and halted. With his hands on his hips, he looked boldly up into Tashek’s beady little eyes and found the Emperor appraising him with a raised eyebrow, nodding in confirmation of their silent bargain.
To Steal a Moon Page 10