Arima Hope approached him and he gently handed Harlan over to her and stood up, watching her carry the child away to his bed. Then he turned to Prince Garen. “If you do not object, I would be most honored if you, your brothers, the Bearens, and any others whom you would like to include would agree to meet with me on a matter of some importance. It is the reason I am on my way to Earth.”
“Of course,” Garen replied. “We would include one other male-set, our Lord Protectors, if this meeting concerns security for our world.”
“I’m not certain, but it may,” Jung Del said. “That is exactly why I wish to have a meeting. When would be a good time for you?”
“Now is convenient,” Garen said. “If you prefer another time, or another day, we will be happy to accommodate you.”
“Now is perfect,” Jung Del replied, grinning. He liked these Jasani princes a great deal. They were straightforward and honest, with none of the slipperiness of usual heads of state. Ten minutes later, Jung Del found himself in a large meeting room in the Lobos’ home, with the Bearens, the Lobos, and the Dracons. After introductions were made, Garen turned to him.
“I apologize if I have been too direct in this matter,” he said. “It is in our nature to act rather than deliberate.”
“It is also in my nature, so no apologies are necessary,” Jung Del replied.
“Good,” Garen said. “I turn the floor to you, Jung Del.”
“Thank you, High Prince,” Jung Del said. “You will remember, I’m certain, the man called Stephan Loggia.”
“Yes, of course,” Garen replied, while the others in the room nodded.
“Mr. Loggia has recently returned to the hell which spawned him,” Jung Del continued. “I admit, he surprised me. He outlasted his bodyguards by several months. Unfortunately, I’ve been busy training my sister’s daughter to take the throne, so had not been able to attend to Mr. Loggia as much as I would have liked. I did, however, have his every utterance recorded. Upon his demise, I reviewed the memory crystal containing the recordings of the past several months. There really is very little on it that is recognizable as language of any sort. Much of what is understandable is either rubbish, or things we have heard repeatedly over the years. Except for one thing.”
“And what was that?” Garen asked.
“He laments, quite clearly, the bumbling idiocy of a Xanti who confused the two Daniels sisters, providing him with the description of the wrong one.”
“Xanti?” Garen asked in surprise. “Are you certain?”
“Absolutely,” Jung Del replied. “I shall have the recording downloaded to you so that you may hear it yourself. “
“I apologize, Jung Del,” Garen said. “I did not mean to question you.”
“I am not offended, Highness,” Jung Del replied. “I too would wish to hear the proof of this. Especially when you hear what I have to tell you next.”
“And what is that?”
“He gave the Xanti’s name,” Jung Del said. “Mark. Mark Baza.”
“Poutanas yie!” Jackson swore, borrowing one of Hope’s favorite Greek swear words. “That’s the Director’s assistant.”
“I suspected as much, but I wasn’t sure,” Jung Del said. “I remember quite clearly hearing Ellicia speak of the Director’s assistant, a man she called Mark. But she never mentioned his last name and, frankly, I have no idea whether the name Mark is common on Earth, or not.”
“The Director performed our wedding ceremony,” Jackson said. “He is also godfather to the boys. We must warn him of this as soon as possible.”
“I did not know he was your son’s godfather,” Jung Del said. “That adds yet another reason for me to take this matter personally.”
Jackson frowned. Jung Del saw, and understood Jackson’s reaction. “I am of the firm belief that, without Ellicia’s aid, we would never have learned who murdered my Sister Queen. For that service alone, all of Marrazo owes her a debt of honor, and me and my family owe her blood debt. Aside from that, I personally liked, and respected, that young woman a very great deal. She was courageous and compassionate, a rare combination.”
“She was that, and more,” Jackson said, nodding. “To us, she was as a sibling, though we didn’t know her for a very long time.”
“Ellicia no longer walks with the living, but that does not relieve us of our debt to her. Rather, that debt is now owed to her sons.”
Jackson, Dav, and Ban all stood and bowed to Jung Del formally, right fist over their hearts. “On behalf of our sons, Jung Del of Marrazo, we accept the honor you do them, and us.”
Jung Del returned the bow, pleased with Jackson’s formal acceptance. After the Bearens retook their seats, he continued. “If this Mark Baza is a Xanti, he has caused much harm. Not only the kidnapping and torture of your Princess, but also the many attempts against Ellicia.”
“More than that,” Jackson said. “There are many tragedies that have gone unexplained in recent years. Tragedies that can best be explained by a leak so close to the Director.”
“Such as?” Jung Del asked curiously.
“The attack which left Harlan and many other agents dead, and nearly killed Ellicia. The kidnapping by the Brethren of Hope and Grace on a military base, right out from beneath our noses, resulting in Grace’s death. The Brethrens’ mysterious knowledge of every female who visited Jasan, and returned. The Xanti’s last minute rescue of the Brethren on Earth, just before we closed in on them. And those are just a few things that I know of.”
Jung Del nodded, realizing that this was even more serious than he’d expected. “I am concerned that sending a message to the Director informing him of our suspicions would be dangerous to him,” he said. “I sent a message telling him of Loggia’s death before I left Marrazo several weeks ago and have not received a response. It is possible, of course, that he’s been too busy to respond. I would certainly not be offended if such were the case. But, I must add that he informed me of the attack in which Ellicia was so gravely wounded, and very kindly kept me updated on her recovery. Regularly. And yet, I never received notice of Ellicia’s demise. I find that to be out of character for him, and therefore, troubling.”
While he was talking, Jung Del noticed a significant look pass between Prince Garen and Lord Faron, which he pretended not to see. He was a guest here, and as such, it was not his place to ask questions.
“Jung Del,” Garen said, “May I ask what you plan to do?”
“I must continue to Earth and warn the Director,” Jung Del said. “Unless you have another suggestion?”
“I would like to take you into our confidence, if you agree,” Garen said. Jung Del considered Garen’s words carefully. There was a warning there. A warning that the knowledge he was offering would likely be dangerous.
“Of course I agree,” Jung Del replied after only a moment’s thought.
“We have learned the location of the Xanti home world,” Garen said. That was a bombshell that made even Jung Del’s fins twitch in surprise. “We are planning an invasion of sorts, using our increased magical ability. We have discussed informing other worlds of our plans, but have decided against it at this time. The Xanti have too many spies in too many places. If our plans are leaked, the Xanti will certainly learn of them long before we reach them, thereby ruining the one thing that we believe will give us our biggest advantage. Surprise.
“We have, in recent months, learned an amazing amount of critical information about the Xanti. We believe that if we take them by surprise, in force, we have a good chance of achieving our ultimate goal.”
“And, if I might ask, what is your ultimate goal?”
“Everything that the Xanti have in terms of technology is stolen,” Garen said. “They’ve enslaved countless worlds within their galaxy, and use their sciences, knowledge, skills and discoveries for themselves. We’ve learned that they are not only incapable of the type of creative thought necessary for the advancements they claim as their own, their true physical forms are suc
h that they could not build their ships, computers, or much of anything else they use.”
Jung Del was greatly intrigued, but held his curiosity in check. It would not do to interrupt the High Prince. Garen smiled, reading Jung Del correctly. “We will, of course, share the information I speak of with you so that you can see for yourself the truth of what I’m telling you.”
Jung Del smiled and nodded his head.
“If we remove all technology from Xantara, which is the name of the Xanti home world,” Garen continued, “and destroy every Xanti ship we can find, the Xanti will be stranded on their own world. So long as no one ever lands there and offers them new ships, they will never be able to leave again.”
“You do not wish to annihilate them?” Jung Del asked in a neutral tone.
“Genocide is not to our liking, no,” Garen said. “We realize that many will not agree with us on this matter. That is another reason why we wish to undertake this attempt on our own.”
Jung Del smiled, baring several rows of sharp, triangular teeth. “In spite of our appearance, Highness, and our position as the dominant species on Marrazo, we Charchari are actually quite tolerant. We learned many millennia ago that just because we are the biggest, smartest, fastest, and strongest, does not mean that we can, or should, destroy the smaller and weaker fish. We have seen that removing the smallest species of snail or coral can cause an entire reef to die. All living things have a purpose. Including the Xanti. Although, I would add that as this is not their galaxy, they have no place here.”
“You agree with us that genocide is not the answer,” Garen said.
“Yes, Highness, I strongly agree with that,” Jung Del replied. “I also agree that stranding them on their own world is the perfect solution. Since they did not evolve to the point of enabling themselves to leave their world, I don’t believe they were meant to do so. Stranding them on their home world would be putting things aright, to my way of thinking.”
“That is our thinking, as well,” Garen said. “Since we are in agreement, we would ask for your assistance, Jung Del.”
“If I am able, I would be most happy to help,” Jung Del replied.
“We ask that you go to Earth, tell the Director about his Xanti spy, but not about our plans to attack Xantara,” Garen said. “Once you have finished that task, we invite you to join us on our mission to Xantara.”
You would have Marrazo join forces with the Jasani?” Jung Del asked, clarifying.
“We would,” Garen said. “Before you respond though, I must explain.”
“Of course,” Jung Del said.
“Several months ago a Xanti infiltrated the ranch with the help of a small being from the Xanti universe. This being called himself a Damosion, by the name of Roska. Damosions are able to see magic, and even move it, or shift it aside in a way that, frankly, escapes our understanding since they do not have the ability to wield magic themselves. They have been enslaved by the Xanti for many thousands of years.
“Unfortunately, a Xanti managed to cause a large explosion which took the life of our Xanti prisoner, and Roska.”
“This Roska was a prisoner?” Jung Del asked.
“No,” Garen replied. “He was a gentle being, and a knowledgeable one. He was kind enough to offer us his assistance. One thing he told us is that the Xanti have a barrier surrounding Xantara which will repel any and all Jasani. We need someone we can trust to take this barrier down.”
“When do you plan to leave?” Jung del asked without pausing to think it over. The absence of the Xanti would be good for Marrazo, as well as the Thousand Worlds. The Jasani were admirable and honorable. The Xanti were dishonorable and wholly evil. He had no concerns or doubts about joining the Jasani in this cause.
“The date has not yet been set, but we hope we can begin within a few weeks,” Garen said. “We have enemies at our backs, assisted by the Xanti, which are being taken care of as we speak. When our people complete that task and return, we will prepare to leave for Xantara.”
“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to make the journey to Earth and back again in such a short time as that,” Jung Del said with real disappointment.
“Actually, you can,” Garen said, smiling. “Thanks to a remarkably gifted person whom we call Unblind, we have a few new jump points to share with you.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Eric Kick spent three days sitting in a tiny white cell with one small hole through which food and water was deposited three times a day. The cell contained a bed, a toilet, a sink, and nothing else. After spending over two years in prison on Earth, it wasn’t as difficult for him to be confined as it otherwise might have been. The main difficulty for him was the absolute lack of distractions. He saw no one, had nothing to read, listen to, or watch other than the bare walls. This gave him far too much time to think about how far he was from Earth, and the laws, rights and privileges that governed even the worst of prisoners. Since he was an escaped prisoner who had illegally stowed away on a Jasani ship where he’d then committed murder, claiming Earth citizenship would be of no help to him at all. They’d probably encourage the Jasani to kill him, and save themselves the trouble.
Without warning the door of his cell slid open with a whisper of sound. A gigantic golden haired man stepped inside and approached him without a word. Eric stood up, watching the man warily. He thought it was the same man who’d brought him to this cell, but it was hard to tell. So many of these Jasani freaks looked exactly alike. The man put one hand on his shoulder and stepped sidewise.
Eric swallowed hard, determined not to show his shock and fear at finding himself in a completely different room between one heartbeat and the next. Instead of his cell, he was now standing in front of an unmarked door which the man reached out and pushed open before nudging Eric forward. Eric stepped into a narrow room with a window in the far wall. Following the man in front of him, he stepped up to the window and looked into an enormous room covered in white padding. What was it with these Jasani and white? he wondered absently.
As he watched, three gigantic birds flew into view and landed on the floor not far from the window. They all had brightly colored eyes with matching markings in their black fur. Eyes that fixed on him, sending a shiver down his spine. The center one opened it’s razor sharp beak and screamed. Eric stumbled backward in abject fear.
“Don’t worry, they have no desire to eat you.”
Eric spun around in surprise, feeling the blood drain from his face as he stared at the woman who’d entered the room behind him. Faith. It was Faith. Or her twin. But no, her twin was dead. As Faith was supposed to be dead. But she was obviously very much alive, standing a few feet in front of him, a smile on her face. She had some sort of red furry thing on her shoulder that she reached up to pet with one hand as she studied him.
The furry thing stared at him with big red eyes and growled.
“It’s all right Bubbles,” Faith murmured to it, never taking her eyes from him.
“How?” he asked.
Faith smiled. “I think I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t mind.”
Eric’s eyes narrowed angrily, but Faith continued to smile. “Have you ever heard of a raktsasa?”
Eric shook his head as his mind tried fruitlessly to understand how this woman could possibly be standing in front of him unharmed. Losing his life for avenging his sister was one thing, but losing his life for a failed attempt was another. It wasn’t fair that Faith was standing there perfectly healthy. On the other hand, if she wasn’t hurt, then he wasn’t guilty of killing her. Maybe he would walk away from this mess after all.
“Bubbles, will you show him what a raktsasa is, please?” Faith asked the strip of red fur. “But no eating him, okay? I don’t want you to get sick.”
Eric’s eyebrows rose at that, then he shrugged off his concern. If that little thing came close enough, he’d break it in half. Or stomp on it. In fact, he hoped it did. Faith was obviously attached to the thing, so her reaction to its
sudden, violent death would be fun to watch.
He watched as the strip of fur jumped down to the floor and walked toward him. He smiled. Just a little closer, he thought.
Suddenly the little strip of fur...changed. Eric found himself staring up at nine feet of massive, red furred beast with dripping fangs and knife-like claws. It opened it’s huge maw and roared loud enough to burst his eardrums, causing him to stumble backward again, this time slamming into the window behind him.
“What in the hell?!” he shouted.
“If I were you, I’d keep my voice down,” Faith said. “Bubbles doesn’t like shouting.”
Eric opened his mouth, then snapped it shut as the giant red monster took a step closer to him. “Call it off,” he said, striving for his best commanding tone.
“No,” Faith said.
“You need this thing to keep you safe I suppose,” Eric said striving for contempt.
“Not at all,” Faith replied, her smile widening to a grin. “I just want her to have a bit of fun.”
Eric tore his eyes from the monster and studied Faith’s expression. She was telling the truth. Why wasn’t she afraid of him? Why was she so damned calm? He looked sideways, but the big blonde who’d brought him here was gone. When had he left? Why had he left?
“What game are you playing at?” he demanded.
“This is the Question and Truth game,” Faith said. “I ask you a question, you tell me the truth. If you lie, even a tiny bit, your body will give off a scent that will tell me as clearly as words.”
“What do you want to know?” Eric asked with a smirk, not believing her for a moment. Did she think he was stupid?.
“Are you afraid?” Faith asked.
“No,” Eric replied. Faith tilted her head back and sniffed. Then she looked at him and grinned. “Liar.”
The Falcoran’s Faith Page 33