"I hadn't thought of that possibility, but now that you mention it-" Raine's voice trailed off as she silently watched Preston's expression tighten into a death mask, then she innocently asked, "How would I get access to war documents?"
"But-"
"You keep making more of this than it is,” she lied. “Plain and simple, I want a slave.”
“Why?”
“I'm always at Vole d'Laire's beck and call; I want to be in charge of something." Raine bit her tongue until the unholy inclination to laugh at Preston's shocked expression passed.
“It’s to help with Dalf, isn’t it?”
She shrugged, as if trying to deal with the child didn’t take all her spare time and energy. "Now that you've done as much as you can for the warrior, I will find a use for him and making him care for Dalf, sounds like the right sort of justice. After all, his kind robbed him of his hearing and sight.”
“Let me have him,” Preston said. “It’s too dangerous for you.”
“If I get tired of him, you can have him for your experiments." Preston crossed his spindly arms over his chest and studied her as if she was a laboratory experiment giving him unexpected results. It was time to tell another part of the truth, but which part? She didn't dare tell him that she thought another Shadow Warrior was monitoring them and was trying to figure out a way to escape Kalamar before Vilecom wiped out everything as they knew it. The truth sounded like she was either delusional or paranoid. Raine cleared her throat. "You know how much I cared for Gornt." Preston nodded. She continued, "And how I vowed to avenge his death? Well, I've finally been given an opportunity to keep that vow."
"By saving a Guerreterran's life so he can be a plague carrier?"
"Not exactly."
The tresses of his luxurious green hair turned a sickly brown in the waning moonlight.
"I like your new hair color. It reminds me of the sea at dawn." Preston glared at her. Raine ran her fingers through her own short, unruly saffron tresses and wondered what she could say, without revealing her half-formed plan. Raine studied Preston's expression and recalled the mud-splattered boy, who had declared that one day he would overthrow the Vole d'Laires and free all slaves.
How had he become one of the dynasty's fiercest supporters?
As the silence lengthened, Vilecom's last rays receded from the still, black water. Bumps rose on Raine's arms, she rubbed them for warmth. Even at a half-million miles away, that red dwarf had the explosive power to wipe out everything.
"I don't know how you stand working so close to that and herding those beasts." Preston scowled.
Raine knew his tactics and wasn’t lulled into believing he would truly change the subject, yet. "You get used to it," Raine muttered. Though she often sensed the moon's malevolence, she always told herself it was ridiculous to believe depravity could be localized in a place.
"I've never understood why the Vole d'Laire ancestors captured that piece of star when it exploded."
"Probably to warm this world. I doubt that they imagined the dragons, which infested it, would ever be more than an annoying parasite, or if they did, they probably figured that they would be safe from them on a water world." She squinted at Preston wondering how he managed to look so calm, when he was probably still trying to find a way to talk her into recycling Dalf and giving him both android and warrior.
Preston gazed at the thin red haze left by Vilecom. "When I finish the tox experiments, I want to develop a process to synthetically manufacture eepyllihg. Once we have a synthetic, we can move the moon away from our system." He sounded more confident than he looked.
"You have that technology?"
"It's in The Zar's personal archives." He shrugged. "I figure we can use the same method used to bring it here, just in reverse.” He turned a sober face to her. “We must move it before it goes pulsar."
Her heart skipped a beat. While she’d mentioned the deteriorating orbit, she’d never mentioned her calculations or her conclusions. "How long have you known?"
"A few years. Most of the pinnacle's mathematicians have been working on computing a safe trajectory to boost it to a farther orbit, or at least reverse the current spiral. But what worries me is that most scientists can’t agree on how much time we have left or what will happen to this planet once it's gone." He sighed. “Some say the moon should have crashed a decade ago, but the majority predict about three more solar orbits.” He gave her an affectionate look. “I bet none of them realizes that it’s bad enough for everyday pilots to notice.”
"Why didn't you say something before?” She studied him, wondering if she’d ever known her brother. He shrugged. “How long have you known it would eventually explode?" He shrugged, a second time. “And you never thought to warn me.”
"If it happens, it won't make any difference where you are. Here." He gestured to the water. “Or there.” He pointed to the sky.
When she opened her mouth to argue, Preston held up his hand. "If it goes, they predict that it will have a speed of a thousand miles per second,” he said. “Being close to its core will snuff you before you can scream. Everything on Kalamar will be annihilated a few seconds of terror later."
Raine shivered and rubbed her arms. "Why doesn't The Zar move it immediately?"
"He doesn't think it's a problem."
Her brother's contemptuous tone surprised her. "I thought you idolized him."
"It is beneficial for him to believe that. Do you remember Dad's philosophy or were you too young when he died?” Raine raised a brow. “'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer'," he quoted.
"Yes." Raine lowered her voice, "Are you saying The Zar is your enemy?" Or was he telling her what he thought she wanted to hear because he viewed her as his enemy?
"He's everyone's enemy. And don't tell anyone I said that."
"I didn't intend to." Raine shifted her feet.
"Are you going to tell me why you want the Guerreterran?"
"I avenge Gornt one for one, if I killed him." She tilted her head at the main body of her ship, and made certain not to look him in the eye, where he could read her deception, "But if I save him, I can increase the odds."
Preston leaned close enough for Raine to see that his eyes were shining. Hope rose within her. "And the android?"
"Initially I planned to dismantle it so I could sell its parts to finance Nambaba's repairs, but since it melted down, its practically worthless."
Abruptly, Preston walked purposefully toward Nambaba. "I'm going to take a good look at what I earned."
"How are you going to sneak it into your quarters? You live right under the God Head's nose."
"So I'll keep it here," he said.
"Why do you want the droid?" she asked.
"If I can figure out its construction, we could build some to sell."
Raine snorted. "The Vole d'Laires are the only ones who could afford them, and if they found out a slave had them, they'd just confiscate what they wanted."
When Preston looked back at her, his face molded into such a sinister smile, that shivers raced up and down her spine. "I know."
The hint of evil in his expression chilled more than her backbone. Raine wondered if she'd misjudged her brother's loyalty to their avaricious dictator, or if Preston merely wanted her to believe it was so. Prudence kept her silent.
He purposefully stepped into Nambaba. She was left wondering what the future held and if there was any way to survive it.
Chapter 10
As Raine walked Preston to his porpoise-boat, Ishdoo hovered, cold and pale in the morning sky.
Raine put her hand on the weather-beaten railing around her docking deck. "I don't know how the robot's arm got welded to the floor." The weathered wood moved beneath her palm.
He stared at Nambaba. "Next time I bring your supplies, I'll bring tools and more sedative."
The railing had needed stabilizing for a solar orbit, but Preston hadn’t noticed, previously. Why did males go out of their way to pursu
e projects, like repairing the android and offered to get special tools to get it out of Nambaba, and at the same time, ignore repairs, which they already had tools and supplies to accomplish? Perhaps afterward, he'd help her with the repairs that would make her home safer.
He cleared his throat. “Promise me that you’ll give the warrior the injections.”
“I said I would, but I don’t know why you think they are so important. After all, you said he’d be too weak to do anything. Why must I make certain he stays unconscious?” He shrugged and red tinges his neck. Embarrassment? Could this mean he was concerned about her safety? What a novel concept. She glanced at the gleaming porpoise-boat. "Be careful that Winslow doesn't toss you to the sharks for taking his toy."
Preston exuded overconfidence as he caressed the hull. "He can't afford to lose me." He chuckled. "My research is far too valuable to him."
"Only until you perfect your formula. Then, you'll disappear like D'nor."
He stiffened and his expression hardened. “What do you know of Reed D'nor?” A tic next to his eye betrayed his tension. "What do Dragon shepherds know of science?" His ridicule sounded like a pathetic attempt at denial.
Raine sighed. "Just be careful, okay? You're the only brother I have." His green brows arched. "I don't want you to disappear like D'nor."
Preston looked skyward and shook his head. The early morning breeze raised gooseflesh on her arms. When he left, she watched the wake merge back into smooth sea and rubbed her chilblains.
Raine breathed in the humid air, wishing it would revive her, instead, all she wanted was to crawl into her bed and sleep for ten rotations. But, she couldn't. Dalf and the warrior needed attention and she needed a bath.
ooo
Thunder woke from his nightmare of pain to agony. He tried to separate fact from nightmare, but it was impossible to move. Impossible to inhale a complete breath. Impossible to open his eyes.
He lay still. His last coherent memory was of GEA-4 mind-speaking about the bizarre history of a water world, which was too horrible of a place to imagine. He shuddered. The story must have been the sort that people told around open fires on dark nights, wherever GEA-4 came from. Bad as the thought of all that water was, an entire planet would never work for the good of one person without a word of disagreement and an entire society couldn't possibly base their economy to one product. He breathed a bit easier.
Strange though, how real the images had seemed. The odd cadence of the language, with its peculiar clicks and whistles echoed in his subconscious. Thunder hummed and remembered the lyrics of a song, the clicks and whistles were as soothing as a lullaby.
Something cool and soothing caressed his face. "You're so hot," the gentle whistling voice said. A cool, hard object was placed against his lips. "Drink," the voice coaxed. But he couldn't.
Though he knew it was impossible for anyone to know the song, someone began singing the words. Her voice was so beautiful that it brought tears to his eyes. He stopped humming so he could listen, but the only sound was water lapping against something solid. The next thing he knew, his lips were pried apart and something soft as a kiss touched him. A shudder of ecstasy rippled over him, then, cool, life-giving liquid tricked into his mouth. When he involuntarily swallowed, the touch vanished.
There was a sound of satisfaction. "You see, Dalf, I did learn something from nursing you."
Again and again the woman repeated the sensual process of filling his mouth with the liquid. But by the time he felt strong enough to force his eyes open, the only thing he could see was a strange dark space.
He closed his eyes and slept.
The black void of sleep became tinged with a golden glimmer on one edge. Thunder sucked in his breath, and waited to see what new torment his vision held. Within three heartbeats, the other side of the emptiness began to mirror the glow. Entranced, he watched light delicately churned and the amber glow drew nearer.
A familiar amber-gold eye. A tingle of recognition went down his spine, and he exhaled. Kazza had found him. His lips curved into a smile as he tried to lift his hand to scratch the cat's silken ears.
The cat's eye drew back until the entire face of the huge gold, white and black striped cat was studying him with an expression of concern. Kazza's black-tufted ears jutted forward, his gaze intent, as if he was making a mental list of all his injuries.
When the great cat's gaze rose to meet him, Thunder knew that it was a miracle that he was still alive. The background lightened into the grassy clearing next to Nimri's herb garden. In the background, sequoia branches swayed in the breeze.
Home.
Larwin and Nimri appeared on either side of Kazza, their hands on his powerful shoulders. The regal cat raised his paw, then locked his gaze with Thunder. A comforting rumble enfolded space; time stood still and three revolving orbs seemed to dance weightless in his dream. As he watched the mesmerizing balls, then the great cat's presence overwhelmed his senses.
Pressure covered his stomach and the purr receded. Without looking away from Kazza's mesmerizing stare, Thunder lifted his hand and felt the cat's gigantic paw. He'd thought it would be impossible for the pain to be worse, but as he placed his own hand over Kazza's paw, it felt as if his entire abdomen was being torn apart and reconfigured on the cellular level. Thunder gasped, then the comfort of shadows covered him, like a warm, healing fur and Kazza's deep rumbling purr turned the agony into warmth and friendship.
"The point of confrontation draws near," Kazza’s deep male voice rumbled.
Though Thunder knew that on some level the great cat was continuing to heal his body, he focused on the orange ball, which began to gyrate like an out of control top and spin toward the big, pretty blue ball and the small, grayish white one. With a crash and hiss, they all collided and the image burst into sparks and steam.
As the embers died, black returned.
Then, a golden speck appeared at the center of the dark void. The speck zigzagged back and forth, and then it was joined by another glowing speck. Soon, hundreds of random flecks dotted the darkness, like stars in the nighttime sky. Then, one in the center grew larger, until Thunder recognized a golden dragon, which flew away. As he watched, all the milling specks transformed into dragons and followed the first one.
"It begins with the termination of Kalamar," The deep voice intoned. "With the portal open, Chatterre will soon attract the energy suckers. We will not be able to repel them. You must complete your mission."
Thunder gasped as a profound sense of misery engulfed him.
"The portal must be closed," the now distant voice said.
"Yes," he gasped. He blinked tears from his eyes and peered at the shadowed contours of a strange rounded enclosure. He held his breath and tried to figure out where he was or if he was still locked in the nightmare.
The chamber felt cool and dank; nothing like his comfortable rock-hewn home. Dim light reflected from the walls, which were smooth and rounded as the inside of a glazed bowl, but the platform he was lying on seemed to be swaying like a bough in the breeze. Thunder opened both eyes, then sat up and stared around him.
He was on one of two strange mats that appeared to be made of thick bubbles, which were floating on a pool that took up the entire bottom of the room. There didn't appear to be windows or doors to escape from the flood.
Panic grew, as the memory of the deluge that had torn his life apart threatened to overwhelm him.
Thunder closed his eyes, hoping the room would go away.
It didn't.
The water near him rippled as if something large was underneath the surface. Moments later, the smooth back of a huge dark fish surfaced. It glided across the placid water to the other mat, then gripped the bubbles with webbed fingers and hoisted itself onto it. The action sent ripples of movement through the area.
Thunder gagged as nausea threatened.
The sturgeon-like creature sprawled on the mat, displaying the webbing between its arms and body, which reminded him of a
bat. Though it had a mouth, the rest of its cone-shaped head was a mass of scars.
What sort of vision was this?
Thunder studied the odd apparition that appeared part human, part sea-monster. The face's disfigured flesh was crisscrossed with white scars. Thunder squinted through the gloom. Ivory on the front, charcoal on the back, the smooth hairless creature must have fallen into a vat of dye.
It made odd guttural noises as it wriggled on the mat. The filmy flap of skin connected its arm from wrist to waist flopped in oddly iridescent folds.
"Were those visions supposed to be a message?" he muttered. His voice echoed through the odd chamber, as if mocking him.
He put his hands to his face, but was surprised to see that all but his fingers were swathed in strange blue fabric. He turned his hands this way then that, then began clawing at the looser knot, on his left hand until it broke. He unwound the long strip of slick fabric and let it drift on the water. Thunder flexed his fingers, and remembered the vision of torn flesh coupled with horrible pain. Though his hand felt stiff, it looked healed.
Had Kazza folded space to aid him, or had the injuries been the illusion?
The mangled face rose and sniffed the air, like a yeti scanning the wind for the scent of prey. As it turned its face toward him, it emitted a blood-curdling howl and launched its body toward him.
Reflexively, Thunder defended himself from the beast and knocked it backward into the water, as he fell backward onto the mat.
The creature paused for a moment, then lunged back to the surface and emitted a horrendous howl of mingled anger and despair.
He shuddered.
As the beast beat the water, a circle of light appeared in the bubble's side and a woman stood silhouetted against the pale yellow light. The scent of sunlight came with her.
The creature thrashed in the water, shrieking, as if it was being maimed. The woman leaped into the water, which only came to her waist and went to the creature. Crooning softly, she wrapped her arms around its sleek cylindrical body and rocked the screeching thing as if it was a beloved babe.
Thunder Moon: Book 2 of the Chatterre Trilogy (Chatterre Triology) Page 12