The 13th Star: An Action Adventure Sci-F Apocalyptic Novel

by Adam Peled

  “Sometimes you’re like a little boy,” he said with exasperation.

  ***

  “Good morning! I’m really glad you woke up,” Coldor said mockingly to a sleepy and disconnected Bar.

  “Don’t get too cocky, Coldor. I saw everything from the office.”

  “The office is not like the real place.”

  Bar waved his hands dismissively. “Let’s do a little summary. What’s up with the gang?”

  “Oh, those rats who escaped through your fingers? You’re referring to them, aren’t you?” he mocked. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything left of them. The last time I heard from them they were on Brisker, but as you know, I made sure to turn some of the planet upside down, and Levi was flooded with glacier water. So as far as I am concerned, they’re finished.”

  “And the Kaiser? What’s with the Kaiser?”

  “What do you care what happens to their vehicle?” Coldor didn’t understand. “It’s over and done with. Everything is gone—including their Kaiser. I’m certain.”

  Bar was clearly not satisfied. “I want to make sure that none of them survived.”

  “After what I did to them, they can’t breathe any more. Even a miracle couldn’t save them. Honestly, Bar, I’m not worried about them. You should feel the same.”

  ***

  Moses was not particularly impressive—short and chubby, with a cute round face and an unstable temperament. Zoi had told them sometimes he was very nervous and decided cases without missing a beat, and sometimes he was all charm without asking for compensation. No one knew how to anticipate his behavior, which only enhanced his image. In the past, Bonn’s residents flipped a coin to guess how he’d behave or react on various issues, but his reactions scared the gamblers so badly that even the most daring and brave among them ceased guessing and just let Moses do what he wanted—if only for fear that they might be the cause that would shake his peace of mind.

  A heavy smell of Sinta greeted them and the room was a huge mess. Alcohol bottles rolled on the floor amid high stacks of paper. It seemed as if no one really knew what they contained.

  A heavy, laden wooden table separated visitors from the back of a chair that hid Moses. Some said they only saw Moses in his chair, and that he even slept and took care of his needs in the enormous chair.

  “I came to say hello,” said Zoi, smiling fearlessly and speaking with great affection. “Since I’m already here, I can’t not say hello to you.”

  The chair didn’t move, but Moses’ voice—deep and cracked due to his use of Sinta—was audible. “I hope it’s you, you fighter. I don’t know if you’re exactly missing here, as I stopped hosting clowns like you long ago, but I always love to meet you and stick you to the wall.”

  Rettoul and Mattoui tensed. Moses’ threatening voice and words led them to freeze a moment in their tracks, but Zoi smiled even wider.

  “I see the bar was renovated a long time ago. It’s been a while since there was proper beating in there, but I’m at your service, Moses. Just tell me and I’ll make a commotion so the insurance money piles up on your desk.”

  The chair revolved slowly and Moses stared into Zoi’s eyes as if he’d known his location among the three in advance. He didn’t smile; his face was frozen. “You need a lot of stupidity to come here, and more so to come into me personally. On Falcon, they’ll be pleased to know that you and your friends are alive. They made sure to scatter you separately throughout the galaxy, yet now you stand here, the magnificent three,” he said in his deep voice.

  “We’d greatly appreciate it if you wouldn’t—” tried Rettoul.

  “Shh…” Moses dismissed him with his hands. “Tell your handsome, scarred friend to be quiet,” he said to Zoi. “I’m exhausted from too much information, people, and issues. What do you want?”

  “We’re looking for Slaughter,” Zoi said wearily.

  “You have no reason to look for Slaughter,” stated Moses. “Slaughter won’t leave you alive. He won’t leave the children with you alive. Slaughter will sell you in pieces and send you back to Falcon in a variety of matchboxes! You were stupid enough to come here, cause a commotion in the market, and now you want to get to Slaughter?” He raised his voice and immediately lowered it. “Don’t worry. Slaughter will find you, you bunch of clueless fools. Of everyone—you’re so stupid! It really doesn’t suit you. And you, knee-strike man… I’m really surprised.”

  “Okay,” said Zoi. “So he’ll get to us.”

  “What do you think? Berez beat up his men in the market. There were six, now sixty will come. Give me a break, knee-strike man. Get out of here now. No insurance money is worth the fuss that this incident will bring to my bar.”

  “Before we go, can you tell us a bit about him?” tried Rettoul. “Who is he? Where does he live? Where does he get his money? What does he look—”

  “Too many questions! Not many people have seen him, but those who have say they’ve never met anyone more frightening. In general, it’s said that anyone who saw his face saw the face of death within moments. No one wants either of those two meetings. Who is he? No one really knows, but he’s the all-powerful ruler of Moran. We can’t remember what life was like without him because he’s everywhere. Nothing happens here without Slaughter knowing about it. Everything goes through him, and everyone pays a large amount of protection money. I have no idea what he does with the money we pay him, but Slaughter runs our lives. People who bring him children receive credit points. We don’t know what happens to them thereafter, but we enjoy a bit of comfort with each child we deliver. I can’t lie and say it’s not tempting not to sell him all our children, as then our lives would become more bearable, but most of us have stopped having children, if only because of the fear of Slaughter and his passion for children.”

  “Maybe we should accept your suggestion,” Zoi said. “We’ll move on and doubtless meet him by chance. Thank you, Moses. It’s always good to see you.” Zoi smiled at him lovingly.

  “Shh… Don’t get sentimental. Go and save your lives.”

  When they reached the entrance to his room with their backs to Moses, he called out, “Hey, you. Pretty guy with the scar. Wait a minute.” They froze in place. Zoi turned, slowly followed by Mattoui and Rettoul. Moses approached them, unsmiling, his eyes fixed on Rettoul. “You—who killed Zoron’s Jorash,” he said. “You eliminated the law enforcement men on Levi,” he continued without taking his eyes from Rettoul.

  Rettoul tensed, not expecting to be recognized so quickly. His breathing became heavy, sure the man would betray them. He had difficulty swallowing.

  “Allow me to shake your hand,” said Moses. “It’s a great privilege to meet you. The knee-strike man always has a place in my heart, but for you, I’ll give even more. I’m at your service, sir.”

  The three were surprised and Rettoul grinned. “Zoi always brings us to his friends. I’m pleased to meet you. We heard nothing but good about you.”

  “Rubbish,” Moses said. “I don’t really trust the knee-strike man, but I’m with you—blindfolded, hands tied, and legs heavy. I’d be happy to help where I can, if you get away from Slaughter alive…which isn’t certain in the least.”

  “I’ll remember your promise, and I’d be pleased to see you again,” said Rettoul. The three went on their way.

  ***

  The wedding preparations were underway. A team of hundreds of prepared the Temple for Zoron’s wedding.

  ***

  They found their place in Ara. Zoi had reserved six rooms but they used only two—the middle ones. In the others they turned the lights on and tuned the TV or radio to different channels. Berez and Zoi roomed with the children, while Mattoui and Rettoul had the other room.

  “You really miss her, huh?” Rettoul smiled.

  “You know,” said Mattoui quietly, “since I can remember, I’ve had one task—to be near you. Rettoul needs me—I’m with him. Rettoul fights—I’ll help him. Rettoul decides—and I’ll do. Rettoul f
irst—and me second. My friendship for and duty to you started my morning, continued my day, and went to sleep with me. I had something to live for, to be. Then Tamar came into my life. Sorry, Rettoul, but her presence made it clear that I had something to lose. She never said a word about the special relationship between us; she demands nothing of me. Tamar just came into my life and painted it with additional colors—no more black and white. Tamar’s made life worthwhile, and it has nothing to do Rettoul. Sorry for changing a bit, but Tamar gives me a future, and with you I only saw the moment. Not that it’s not good, but it’s no longer enough.

  “Tamar, without saying a word, has made me a person in my own right. You aren’t responsible for me following you blindly, and I’m not complaining about it, but having Tamar in my life made it clear that I also exist in a world without Rettoul—one of her and me. So it’s not just missing her, it’s the essence of life with Tamar and thanks to Tamar.”

  “I know, Mattoui, and I envy the horizon you want to reach. You have no idea how much I welcome the existence of Tamar in your world. I love you, Mattoui, more than a brother. I have no explanation for or understanding of this special connection between us, but from the moment Tamar entered your life, you became a different Mattoui—happier, freer. And I’m happy about it. We’re done with the story and we’ve taken another step toward a return to sanity. I assure you, things will look different soon.”

  He embraced Mattoui at length. “I’ll call aKaiser for you, and you get out of here.”

  “What do you mean?” Mattoui tensed.

  “We’ll manage alone.” Rettoul winked. “We’re already used to people bigger and more sophisticated than this Slaughter, who sounds like someone we’re not particularly excited about. You saw his people in the market—they weren’t trained guerrillas. Just people with weapons and fear in their eyes who survive and are built off their boss’ authority. Their bellies and heavy feet haven’t been treated properly, and any of us can handle them alone. Don’t worry, we’ll manage.”

  ***

  Morning dawned. None of the three men had slept properly. They were tense about the meeting, which came almost at once. The door to one of the empty rooms they’d reserved was broken open abruptly and they rose immediately—Rettoul in his room, Zoi and Berez in theirs. A minute later, Rettoul’s door was forced open and six people entered in arrow formation—one led, followed by two and then by three. They were dressed in black, with black masks over their faces, and were wearing black gloves. In fact, not a scrap of skin was visible, with everything covered. They looked around the room, which appeared empty, like the one before.

  “Damn!” Rettoul heard one of them say.

  “They’re somewhere in the other rooms,” another voice said.

  “You’re really smart,” said a third voice sarcastically.

  The six turned around and stopped in their tracks—Berez and Zoi stood behind them, weapons drawn. They took a step back and heard Rettoul’s voice. “If you move any further back, you’ll be shot in the back with no hesitation.”

  Rettoul couldn’t see their faces, but he knew one glance from Berez would be enough to freeze them. “Well. Now take us Slaughter.”

  “It’s impossible,” said one of them. “There’s not enough room for everyone.”

  “That’s a relatively small problem,” said Rettoul and he stuck his weapon in one’s back. “You!” The man turned to him, his whole body shaking with fear. “Bind your friends.”

  Rettoul tossed a rope and heavy tape at his feet. This particular tape, when put in contact with the skin, created a sense of itching and burning. Even years after it was removed, a strong itch remained that neutralized all clarity and thought.

  The five were bound and after a few minutes, they tried to stand and anxiously began scratching whatever parts of their bodies they could reach. It was replaced by hysteria. It seemed they couldn’t break free and didn’t call for help—they were too busy in their distress.

  The Road Star quickly made its way to Slaughter’s base, which was shrouded in a thick fog that seemed artificial. Previously the road had been clear and then they suddenly flew into a cloud, navigating by instruments only.

  On board were dozens of Ingrams and it seemed no one had taken care of them properly. Some were intact and others weren’t. This warship had seen better days. The lack of maintenance saddened the warriors.

  The one man of Slaughter’s who remained free drove the Road Star. Rettoul watched his actions carefully, knowing precisely what movements and actions were needed. He wanted to be sure the driver wouldn’t make any mistakes that might create another of Slaughter’s surprises.

  They knew they were going into the unknown, but feared nothing.

  Chapter 13: The Trick

  Moses’ Kaiser moved slowly toward the landing strip. Its lights were off, as were the engines. Since it was powered by the latest solar panels, it was silent and Mattoui used the vehicle’s silence so as not to appear on the radar or be heard. In fact, he was surprised that Moses’ Kaiser was equipped with modern war technology. Mattoui’s personal Kaiser, used for fighting, had more combat options, but he wasn’t interested in fighting. He just wanted to go home to Tamar.

  He thought a lot about her during the trip. She was the one who was making him abandon his mission in the middle to see her and make sure she was okay. He’d never experienced such feelings. It felt good, and at the same time he felt disoriented and concerned. Who am I? Am I a great fighter, the undefeated fighter? Was he Rettoul’s good friend, the right-hand man of the greatest? Was he a member of the magnificent five? Was he a lover? Was he likely to be a family man, and what would be In rettoul's life

  So many questions ran through his head during the trip, but his vigilance didn’t waver. He knew if he was caught, his fate would be bitter. It was doubtful that any of his friends would be able to save him. On the other hand, if the danger had been that great, Rettoul wouldn’t have given his blessing or given up so easily.

  Tamar… Tamar… His thoughts were only of her.

  ***

  The Road Star reached its destination. The runway was lit and two dark figures waited. As the Road Star descended, the figures became clearer: An armed man, dressed in black from head to toe, his face uncovered, chest inflated, and he looked like a bodybuilder, his clothes threatening to burst open. The second figure was a heavy dwarf beside him, also armed.

  The Road Star touched down and the two people quickly tied it to the ground while two other armed men ran toward the vehicle. The door opened and the stairs were quickly attached to it. Rettoul was able to catch a glimpse of those outside—austere and blazing fire. They look just like the thugs from the market, he thought. They went slowly down the stairs, Rettoul first, and Zoi and Berez, each holding a child’s hand.

  They were led toward a large building in silence. It was dark and enormous cold floodlights added to the power of the building, which looked like a huge ghostly palace. No impressive towers or turrets were visible, but there were hundreds of small windows scattered without order in the walls. They sensed that they could be seen from everywhere. A square, large, ugly structure, Berez thought.

  Their way was clear under the floodlights. One could find a needle under this intense light, thought Rettoul. It seems no one takes any risks. They walked about two miles quite quickly. Rettoul knew they could have been saved the walk, but there was probably some deliberateness behind it.

  Heavy doors opened as they approached and they entered the building, which was also ugly up close. They walked down a wide corridor between two large halls. The walls were made of clear glass and they could see inside. The late hour wasn’t observed there—in the hall to their right prowled dozens of hungry animals. Starved animals are always a danger, and even more so when it comes to wild animals that can smell prey within reach. Animal grunts and roars shook the windows. The children shrank away and clung close to Berez. No one could take their eyes off the animals’ hungry eyes very l
ong, lest they manage to burst through the window and pounce on them.

  The animals’ roars threatened everyone. But the sight on the other side was even stranger—dozens of youngsters practicing martial arts like boxing and fencing. They were sweaty, tired, sore, and bruised, but most noticeable of all was the desire to kill in their eyes, with a hunger to dominate, succeed, and hurt.

  The animals’ roars could be heard amid the battle cries and pain across the hall. The youngsters were motivated to lead and succeed as those with sharp hearing could hear the cracking of bones from time to time. All their eyes were swollen and red from internal hemorrhaging and external blows. Naked and sweaty, they were so injured that their scabs didn’t take heal and the wounds festered,he only wanted to prepare to the real life as he see.

  “What’s going on?” Zoi said, unusually tense. He’d seen a lot in his life, but had never imagined what was going on in the practice room.

  “Madness. The madness of one man!” Rettoul said.

  “No, it’s the madness of an army,” said Berez. “Don’t you understand? They’re released to the streets from here to behave just like the animals on the other side.”

  At the end of the long corridor, one of the guards turned to them. “Leave your weapons here.”

  “I don’t leave my weapon anywhere!” Berez answered.

  “Leave it, leave it,” said Rettoul. “We don’t have to worry. Even Slaughter has limits.” He placed the gun on the table in front of him.

  “Limits? Everyone has limits. The problem is our boundaries are so different that I’m not sure we’ll know his limits,” continued Berez in an uncharacteristic friendly tone.

  Rettoul smiled.

  “Please come into the room. Slaughter will meet you soon,” said the guard when all the weapons had been placed before him.

  The room was large, but not huge like the two halls they’d passed, and it was completely empty. The walls were bare, with no furniture in the room, nor doors or windows. The single door closed behind them. They looked at each other and moved to the center. Rettoul examined the ceiling; it appeared to be completely innocent. Like any other ceiling, there were two light tracks in the middle that strongly illuminated the room.