Chapter Eight — Bitter Resolution
Lieutenant Darinta Larell stepped carefully out of the marauder.
Slinging her jump bag over her shoulder, she walked slowly from the
docking bay. Her heart was heavy as she made her way to her quarters to
drop off her things. She sat upon her bed for more than an arn, hoping
some meaningless task would come to mind. Anything to postpone the time
when she would be forced to face Crais.
What would she tell him about their daughter's birth? How would
he react? It would be a bitter pill to swallow if he sloughed her off
as he did all this other sexual conquests. She thought of Teeg's
tortured longing. Gripped by a deep sense of emptiness, she dreaded the
encounter to the bottom of her soul.
She felt the protests of her empty stomach and made her way to
the nearest officers' dining hall. She was paying no attention as she
entered, jolted back to reality only when someone ran into her. She looked up
into a face she'd only seen as a holo-image. Tauvo Crais. He smiled brightly and
helped steady her with both hands.
"My apologies, lovely lady." He said smartly. "I don't believe
I've had the pleasure."
"Lieutenant Darinta Larell." She replied stiffly. "I'm assigned
to the Leviathan research division. You're Captain Crais' brother
aren't you?"
"Bialar has told me about you." he said politely. "How did the
birthing go?"
She averted her gaze and swallowed hard.
"Your. . .brother. . .Captain Crais has spoken of you often." She
replied self-consciously, not answering his question. Could this
actually be the long-awaited younger brother? The differences were like night
and day.
"All good I trust." He laughed softly.
"Very good, indeed." She replied, an incredulous smile on her own
face. His gentle kindness was infectious.
"I was only stopping off here for a quick drink before joining
him for dinner," Tauvo said extending a hand to her. "I'm certain he
wouldn't mind your charming company. It could only enhance the
experience."
"I really shouldn't, Officer Crais." She said formally.
"None of that!" he smiled. "I insist."
Lieutenant Larell nearly recoiled at the thought of seeing Crais
again with his brother present but said nothing. She followed him
without taking his hand. As they made their way through the crowded,
winding corridors, he talked incessantly about his plans for the
prowler squadrons, his experiences aboard his last command carrier and
his brother. Bialar this. Bialar that. It was obvious the younger Crais
idolized his brother.
As she listen to his animated dialog it occurred to her that she
had probably chosen the wrong brother. This idea was driven home like a
knife through her heart as they entered Crais' quarters together. The
expression on his face upon seeing her was frosty at best. Disdain
lurked behind those dark eyes.
"Look who just arrived, my brother." Tauvo fairly crowed. "I
literally ran into her as she was going in to the level 37 officers'
mess. I invited her to join us for dinner instead."
"That would not be appropriate," Crais said flatly.
"Bialar," Tauvo began only to be interrupted by the elder.
"Officer Crais," he snapped. "Please give us this room alone for
a few microts."
Tauvo's smile wilted as he looked with hurt and disapproval at
his brother. He clicked his heels together smartly, bowed and left.
"I'm sorry, Captain," she explained, eyes cast downward. "He was
insistent."
"The birthing?" Crais ventured noting her flattened abdomen. "It
was far too early."
She breathed and looked at him with eyes bright with pain.
"The child. . .um. . .our daughter," she stammered then fell
silent.
"Spit it out, Lt. Larell!" he snapped harshly.
"She was stillborn." She said simply.
Crais sat silently staring at her for many long microts.
"You are dismissed, Lt. Larell," he said at last returning his
attention to the transparencies on his desk.
"Bialar?" she whispered.
"Lt. Larell," his tone sent a jolt of pure terror down her spine.
"You are dismissed."
The door to his quarters slid open admitting a familiar face. Lt.
Larell and Officer Sun made brief eye contact.
"My apologies, sir," the newcomer said standing stiffly at
attention just inside the room. "You requested my presence."
"Yes, Officer Sun." Crais said, a charming smile brightening his
face. "I wish for you to join my brother and I for dinner. He tells me
you are the best pilot in your division."
The beautiful young woman was obviously moved by such praise. Lt.
Larell looked at her, a feeling of dread gnawing at the pit of her
stomach.
"Lieutenant," he said, his voice more harsh than she'd every
heard it. "Dismissed."
He wouldn't meet her gaze.
"Sir," She said before biting her lower lip. She spun on her heel
and left him to his newest conquest.
** ** ** ** **
EL-Vashti saw Khetyr approaching on the monitor screen and
shuddered. He spoke briefly with her aide in the outer office before
being admitted. She tried not to look at his face, the wide hazel eyes,
bow-shaped lips and mild shadow of a beard. If she looked at him,
seeing him as the beloved companion of the last two cycles she would
not seek the answers she so desperately needed.
"Lil," he said softly, standing in front of her desk. "How are
you? I've been worried sick. The main registrar posted that you'd
arrived home two days ago."
"I'm in perfect health according to Crais' physician," she
replied harshly. "Yes, I did come back 2 days ago. I needed time to
myself, however. I needed to think things through."
He winced and bit his lip. "I've missed you."
"Have you now?"
"Lil," he sighed, then the words began to pour forth in a rush.
"Crais had a surveillance device secreted in my uniform. He had records
of everything. Everything we did. Everything we said. He could have had
us all executed with the evidence on those recordings. I was captured
by commandos and brought to him in restraints. He said that if I
cooperated, if I gave you the conception enhancer and said nothing, he
would let us all go unscathed."
"Unscathed!" EL-Vashti hissed, slamming her palm down hard on the
top of her desk. She pointed to her abdomen. "Is this unscathed?"
"Lil, he was going to kill you," Khetyr rebutted.
"Don't be stupid, Jinn!" she shouted. "He wanted to sire this
child on me. He would never have killed me."
"You can't know that," he yelled back. "You weren't there when he
confronted me."
"I didn't need to be," she snapped bitterly. "I have had intimate
experience with what that trog is capable of. Getting this child for
his precious House and humiliating me utterly was his plan you vigilar.
He wouldn't have killed me even if I destroyed his entire command
carrier armada and herd of Leviathans!"
Khetyr gulped and frowned at her.
"I'm sorry, Lil," he said quietly. "Please let me make amends."
"You're sorry?" she mocked. "An amends. You could never
compensate me for what I've been through at his hands."
"Don't be so certain," he smiled wildly. "I've done something to
hurt him, to regain your honor. Something even he wouldn't have thought
to do."
"What are you babbling about?"
"Darinta Larell," Khetyr said quietly, leaning across her desk.
"The Tech from the traitor Velorek's team, the one Crais promoted to
lieutenant and put into Velorek's post. She was Crais' lover. Did you
know that? I turned it over and over in my mind after I found out.
And she was pregnant, as well. By Crais! Not by accident. Not a genetic
pairing. They chose to procreate!"
"Is there a plot to this fairy tale?" EL-Vashti scoffed.
"I knew you would want to avenge what Crais did to you," he
smiled as he came around the desk to kneel beside her. He took her
hands in his and continued, "And I knew you would blame me when he told
you the truth about how it happened. So. . .I acted for you."
"What do you mean?" EL-Vashti asked, a sick feeling at the back
of her throat. He wasn't behaving normally. His eyes were feral, his
lips wet with spittle.
"I killed it," he whispered with a little laugh.
"What?" she demanded, her voice catching in her throat.
"I poisoned Lt. Larell's fetus. It was stillborn." He bragged
shaking her hands gleefully. "I delivered it myself—ever the caring
physician—so that neither of them would ever suspect."
He was insane, she was certain of it. No Peacekeeper would harm
an unborn child. The penalty was slow torture and an even slower death.
She could not, would not be a party to this. Her mind raced over the
alternatives as she tried to extricate herself from his grasp.
"Lil, no!" he pleaded, holding on tighter. "Say you forgive me."
Her resolve was set. She looked down at him, her face a gentle,
loving mask.
"Of course I forgive you, Jinn." She purred as she slipped her
arms around him.
"After everything we've been through together, I knew you would."
He replied burying his face in her neck.
"How could you ever doubt it?" she smiled coldly as she saw their
reflection in the shiny surface of her office walls.
** ** ** ** **
The wind tugged fitfully at her great coat as EL-Vashti crossed
IAD Square heading toward the Visiting Officers' Quarters. Tendrils of
her long hair were pulling loose from her tight queue and sticking to
her face. Sleet was beginning to fall and the temperature was dropping
fast. The wet season was settling in with a vengeance on Kordaen. In a
matter of arns, there would be a thick coating of ice on everything not
protected from the elements.
She paused for a several microts looking up into the freezing
rain to clear her head. There would be no turning back from this. It
was a commitment that would last until death. Were she to ever back
down, there would be nowhere to hide from her unspeakable fate. Closing
her eyes she inserted her ident-chip into the panel beside the main
entrance. It emitted a series of beeps and the door in front of her
slid aside.
She removed her small, black garrison cap and gloves, tucking
them into the belt of her great coat. She ignored the concierge at the
main desk, slipping down a side corridor. Finding the billet number she
was searching for, she pressed the chime beside the door only once.
Within a microt it slid aside. It was obvious she was expected.
"Do come in, dear." Scorpius' voice called to her out of the
darkness. He did so prefer the dark. "The weather has turned quite
vicious outside has it not? Please, make yourself comfortable and enjoy
a steaming rasklak."
"Spare me your tender ministrations, Scorpius," she said
bitterly.
"You do not appreciate being treated with tenderness, my dear?"
he teased as he elevated the illumination in the room. He motioned her
toward a lounger beside him.
Niem appeared from an alcove, placing a hot cup of rasklak into
her frigid hands. She disappeared just as quickly.
"He killed a fetus," she said quietly looking him in the eyes for
the very first time. She was beyond repulsion or fear of irreversible
contamination. She was beyond caring.
"What?" Scorpius asked cocking his head as he returned her gaze.
"Khetyr," she explained after taking a long draught of the potent
beverage. "He found out one of Crais' officers was pregnant by him. .
.and he poisoned the fetus causing it to be stillborn."
"Ghastly," Scorpius sighed. "So now you know where your
allegiances do and do not lie."
"With great trepidation. . .yes." she whispered.
"Glorious," he smiled patting her knee affectionately. "We will
begin immediately."
"You're going to kill Crais, Pollivar and Khetyr?" she asked
closing her eyes and finishing the rasklak. Her stomach was empty and
she could feel it already going to her head.
"Crais will prove to be a ticklish problem," he admitted.
"However, Pollivar and Khetyr will not live to see another sunrise."
"I want to be there when Khetyr dies," she said, her voice a
monotone. "I want him to know where his death is coming from."
"Easily arranged," Scorpius replied. "And do you wish it to be a
lingering, painful death or quick and merciful."
"I want him to experience more terror than he ever thought
imaginable," she whispered icily.
"As you wish." He said as he stretched his long, spindly legs out
in front of his lounger. "Come to my ship in four arns. Everything will
be arranged."
** ** ** ** **
Magistrate Tolan Pollivar raised the collar of his uniform great
coat more snuggly about his neck. He positioned his garrison cap on his
balding head and stepped out into the frigid night air. He normally
enjoyed the brisk walk to his quarters, but the unforgiving wind
whipping across IAD Square made that impossible this night. He walked
gingerly, but as quickly as the icy sidewalk would permit, nearly
losing his balance several times.
He rounded the corner near his billet block and noticed footfalls
behind him. Faint and nearly drowned out by the howling wind, but still
he knew someone was following him. He glanced briefly over his shoulder
and saw the indistinct figure of a woman a distance behind him. Her
cloak rippled in the wind as she turned down an adjacent street.
He inserted his ident-chip into the level riser panel and waited
for it to arrive. He rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet to
keep warm in the relentless gale. The doors opened and he stepped
quickly inside. As he punched in his billet code, a stinging tightness
wrapped around his neck. A monofilament garrote was rapidly cutting off
his oxygen. He struggled against his unseen attacker but was rapidly
losing consciousness. His feet were slipping and sliding beneath him as
the level riser shot upward.
He fumbled with desperate fingers for the face of his assailant,
but could not gain a grasp. Finally, as the level riser reached the top
of his billet block, it stopped with a jolt. He lost his footing and
hung by his full weight from the garrote. As he fought to remain
conscious he felt himself begin dragged out of the riser and into a
corridor. It was utter blackness around them. He could not be certain
if it was his brain dying or that all lights had been extinguished
prior to this attack.
He heard the whine of the level riser as it reversed itself and
fell rapidly downward. As the last of his life drained away he sensed
he was falling forward and air rushing up to meet him. His heart burst
as he landed atop the level rise seventy-eight floors below.
From far above, Niem looked down at her handiwork. No one would
have survived that fall, she thought silently. The non-marking garrote
would leave no evidence, Scorpius assured her. It would be investigated
and the case closed on a tragic accident.
** ** ** ** **
Khetyr tumbled out of bed naked and stunned at the sound of
commando boots in his bedchamber. Before he could cry out a rifle butt
smashed into his face. He shrieked and teeth fell from his bloody
mouth. Survival instinct the only thing left in him beyond terror, he
scrambled along the floor like an animal. Getting to his feet in the
corridor of his billet block, he began to run faster than he ever had
before in his life.
The commandos were behind him as he escaped out into the night.
His bare feet hit the ice-covered pavement and he went down hard.
Crying, gasping for breath and choking on his own blood, Khetyr
struggled to his feet and ran again. He made it to the corner and down
a narrow street before he felt the sharp stab in the nape of his neck.
He'd been shot with an anesthine dart and the drug was now spreading
through his cerebrospinal fluid and brain. He would have only microts
to find a place to hide before he lost consciousness.
"Lil," he cried out as he dove behind a waste receptacle. His
skin stuck instantly to the wet ice on the ground and he found himself
trapped. Commando boots rang out in the night as they came closer to his
pathetic hiding place.
"Lil!"
** ** ** ** **
When he awoke, Khetyr found himself completely immobilized. He
fought to free himself only to have water splash up into his face. He
choked and coughed.
"Good, you're awake," EL-Vashti said softly.
"Lil, what's happening?" he yelled fighting again only to be
rewarded with another mouthful of water.
"An amends, my love." She answered.
"What!" he shrieked.
"I would remain still if I were you," said another voice,
frightening even in its gentleness. "You will live far longer if you
remain perfectly still."
"Lil, what is happening? Why are you doing this?" he shouted then
swallowed more water.
"My colleague, Scorpius, devised this manner of death for you,
Jinn." El-Vashti explained coming closer to the isolation tank. "I must
admit it is truly the most unique manner of death I've ever seen."
"Lil, stop this now!" Khetyr pleaded. "Please, release me from
this thing."
"It's quiet simplistic, really." She went on as though she had
not heard him. "In case you've not figured it out, you are wrapped in a
stasis cocoon. The brilliant part of course is that it has been
manipulated to leave your face exposed.
"As anyone knows, a stasis cocoon has a great deal of buoyancy,
but it will not float forever. They have this horrible flaw of
gradually absorbing liquids, which is why a crash landing on a water
planet is always dreadful when you have a shipload of patients in
stasis. But, you know that right, my love?
"At any rate, my colleague came up with the notion of putting
your cocoon into an isolation tank filled with just enough water to
saturate it and still leave a high enough level to allow you to drown.
. .ever so slowly. A just reward for your betrayal, I would say." She
explained.
"Most just, Magistrate EL-Vashti." Scorpius said as he came to
stand behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders.
"Of course it can never repay the life of the fetus you
murdered, you vigilar!" she hissed with finality.
Scorpius switched off the comm in the stasis cocoon and escorted
EL-Vashti out of the chamber, his arm lightly draped around her
shoulders.
What little light in the isolation tank faded to black and Khetyr
began to scream. His own breathing was loud in his ears and water was
splashing up his nose and into his mouth. The air in the tank began to
turn bad quickly and he sensed the cocoon dropping lower in the water.
Before long it was above his mouth and tickling icily at his nostrils.
Images of the entire debacle with Crais flashed through his mind.
He remembered his words of warning to EL-Vashti the day they departed
for their journey to the Mhultaan.
"I've heard of Bialar Crais." Khetyr said. "He's very powerful
and popular with the Admiralty and High Command. So is Scorpius;
prominent scientist with the SRD and all that dren. How the satra do
you think he's tolerated by High Command otherwise? Talk about
irreversible contamination! This has the probability of landing us all
on the torture table."
He saw her face, soft and white contorted in ecstasy beneath him;
glowing with a cruel smile as she worked. He did not flinch as the
water reached his nostrils. Instead he cried out her name. He then
breathed in sharply through his mouth allowing his lungs to fill with
water.
Lieutenant Darinta Larell stepped carefully out of the marauder.
Slinging her jump bag over her shoulder, she walked slowly from the
docking bay. Her heart was heavy as she made her way to her quarters to
drop off her things. She sat upon her bed for more than an arn, hoping
some meaningless task would come to mind. Anything to postpone the time
when she would be forced to face Crais.
What would she tell him about their daughter's birth? How would
he react? It would be a bitter pill to swallow if he sloughed her off
as he did all this other sexual conquests. She thought of Teeg's
tortured longing. Gripped by a deep sense of emptiness, she dreaded the
encounter to the bottom of her soul.
She felt the protests of her empty stomach and made her way to
the nearest officers' dining hall. She was paying no attention as she
entered, jolted back to reality only when someone ran into her. She looked up
into a face she'd only seen as a holo-image. Tauvo Crais. He smiled brightly and
helped steady her with both hands.
"My apologies, lovely lady." He said smartly. "I don't believe
I've had the pleasure."
"Lieutenant Darinta Larell." She replied stiffly. "I'm assigned
to the Leviathan research division. You're Captain Crais' brother
aren't you?"
"Bialar has told me about you." he said politely. "How did the
birthing go?"
She averted her gaze and swallowed hard.
"Your. . .brother. . .Captain Crais has spoken of you often." She
replied self-consciously, not answering his question. Could this
actually be the long-awaited younger brother? The differences were like night
and day.
"All good I trust." He laughed softly.
"Very good, indeed." She replied, an incredulous smile on her own
face. His gentle kindness was infectious.
"I was only stopping off here for a quick drink before joining
him for dinner," Tauvo said extending a hand to her. "I'm certain he
wouldn't mind your charming company. It could only enhance the
experience."
"I really shouldn't, Officer Crais." She said formally.
"None of that!" he smiled. "I insist."
Lieutenant Larell nearly recoiled at the thought of seeing Crais
again with his brother present but said nothing. She followed him
without taking his hand. As they made their way through the crowded,
winding corridors, he talked incessantly about his plans for the
prowler squadrons, his experiences aboard his last command carrier and
his brother. Bialar this. Bialar that. It was obvious the younger Crais
idolized his brother.
As she listen to his animated dialog it occurred to her that she
had probably chosen the wrong brother. This idea was driven home like a
knife through her heart as they entered Crais' quarters together. The
expression on his face upon seeing her was frosty at best. Disdain
lurked behind those dark eyes.
"Look who just arrived, my brother." Tauvo fairly crowed. "I
literally ran into her as she was going in to the level 37 officers'
mess. I invited her to join us for dinner instead."
"That would not be appropriate," Crais said flatly.
"Bialar," Tauvo began only to be interrupted by the elder.
"Officer Crais," he snapped. "Please give us this room alone for
a few microts."
Tauvo's smile wilted as he looked with hurt and disapproval at
his brother. He clicked his heels together smartly, bowed and left.
"I'm sorry, Captain," she explained, eyes cast downward. "He was
insistent."
"The birthing?" Crais ventured noting her flattened abdomen. "It
was far too early."
She breathed and looked at him with eyes bright with pain.
"The child. . .um. . .our daughter," she stammered then fell
silent.
"Spit it out, Lt. Larell!" he snapped harshly.
"She was stillborn." She said simply.
Crais sat silently staring at her for many long microts.
"You are dismissed, Lt. Larell," he said at last returning his
attention to the transparencies on his desk.
"Bialar?" she whispered.
"Lt. Larell," his tone sent a jolt of pure terror down her spine.
"You are dismissed."
The door to his quarters slid open admitting a familiar face. Lt.
Larell and Officer Sun made brief eye contact.
"My apologies, sir," the newcomer said standing stiffly at
attention just inside the room. "You requested my presence."
"Yes, Officer Sun." Crais said, a charming smile brightening his
face. "I wish for you to join my brother and I for dinner. He tells me
you are the best pilot in your division."
The beautiful young woman was obviously moved by such praise. Lt.
Larell looked at her, a feeling of dread gnawing at the pit of her
stomach.
"Lieutenant," he said, his voice more harsh than she'd every
heard it. "Dismissed."
He wouldn't meet her gaze.
"Sir," She said before biting her lower lip. She spun on her heel
and left him to his newest conquest.
** ** ** ** **
EL-Vashti saw Khetyr approaching on the monitor screen and
shuddered. He spoke briefly with her aide in the outer office before
being admitted. She tried not to look at his face, the wide hazel eyes,
bow-shaped lips and mild shadow of a beard. If she looked at him,
seeing him as the beloved companion of the last two cycles she would
not seek the answers she so desperately needed.
"Lil," he said softly, standing in front of her desk. "How are
you? I've been worried sick. The main registrar posted that you'd
arrived home two days ago."
"I'm in perfect health according to Crais' physician," she
replied harshly. "Yes, I did come back 2 days ago. I needed time to
myself, however. I needed to think things through."
He winced and bit his lip. "I've missed you."
"Have you now?"
"Lil," he sighed, then the words began to pour forth in a rush.
"Crais had a surveillance device secreted in my uniform. He had records
of everything. Everything we did. Everything we said. He could have had
us all executed with the evidence on those recordings. I was captured
by commandos and brought to him in restraints. He said that if I
cooperated, if I gave you the conception enhancer and said nothing, he
would let us all go unscathed."
"Unscathed!" EL-Vashti hissed, slamming her palm down hard on the
top of her desk. She pointed to her abdomen. "Is this unscathed?"
"Lil, he was going to kill you," Khetyr rebutted.
"Don't be stupid, Jinn!" she shouted. "He wanted to sire this
child on me. He would never have killed me."
"You can't know that," he yelled back. "You weren't there when he
confronted me."
"I didn't need to be," she snapped bitterly. "I have had intimate
experience with what that trog is capable of. Getting this child for
his precious House and humiliating me utterly was his plan you vigilar.
He wouldn't have killed me even if I destroyed his entire command
carrier armada and herd of Leviathans!"
Khetyr gulped and frowned at her.
"I'm sorry, Lil," he said quietly. "Please let me make amends."
"You're sorry?" she mocked. "An amends. You could never
compensate me for what I've been through at his hands."
"Don't be so certain," he smiled wildly. "I've done something to
hurt him, to regain your honor. Something even he wouldn't have thought
to do."
"What are you babbling about?"
"Darinta Larell," Khetyr said quietly, leaning across her desk.
"The Tech from the traitor Velorek's team, the one Crais promoted to
lieutenant and put into Velorek's post. She was Crais' lover. Did you
know that? I turned it over and over in my mind after I found out.
And she was pregnant, as well. By Crais! Not by accident. Not a genetic
pairing. They chose to procreate!"
"Is there a plot to this fairy tale?" EL-Vashti scoffed.
"I knew you would want to avenge what Crais did to you," he
smiled as he came around the desk to kneel beside her. He took her
hands in his and continued, "And I knew you would blame me when he told
you the truth about how it happened. So. . .I acted for you."
"What do you mean?" EL-Vashti asked, a sick feeling at the back
of her throat. He wasn't behaving normally. His eyes were feral, his
lips wet with spittle.
"I killed it," he whispered with a little laugh.
"What?" she demanded, her voice catching in her throat.
"I poisoned Lt. Larell's fetus. It was stillborn." He bragged
shaking her hands gleefully. "I delivered it myself—ever the caring
physician—so that neither of them would ever suspect."
He was insane, she was certain of it. No Peacekeeper would harm
an unborn child. The penalty was slow torture and an even slower death.
She could not, would not be a party to this. Her mind raced over the
alternatives as she tried to extricate herself from his grasp.
"Lil, no!" he pleaded, holding on tighter. "Say you forgive me."
Her resolve was set. She looked down at him, her face a gentle,
loving mask.
"Of course I forgive you, Jinn." She purred as she slipped her
arms around him.
"After everything we've been through together, I knew you would."
He replied burying his face in her neck.
"How could you ever doubt it?" she smiled coldly as she saw their
reflection in the shiny surface of her office walls.
** ** ** ** **
The wind tugged fitfully at her great coat as EL-Vashti crossed
IAD Square heading toward the Visiting Officers' Quarters. Tendrils of
her long hair were pulling loose from her tight queue and sticking to
her face. Sleet was beginning to fall and the temperature was dropping
fast. The wet season was settling in with a vengeance on Kordaen. In a
matter of arns, there would be a thick coating of ice on everything not
protected from the elements.
She paused for a several microts looking up into the freezing
rain to clear her head. There would be no turning back from this. It
was a commitment that would last until death. Were she to ever back
down, there would be nowhere to hide from her unspeakable fate. Closing
her eyes she inserted her ident-chip into the panel beside the main
entrance. It emitted a series of beeps and the door in front of her
slid aside.
She removed her small, black garrison cap and gloves, tucking
them into the belt of her great coat. She ignored the concierge at the
main desk, slipping down a side corridor. Finding the billet number she
was searching for, she pressed the chime beside the door only once.
Within a microt it slid aside. It was obvious she was expected.
"Do come in, dear." Scorpius' voice called to her out of the
darkness. He did so prefer the dark. "The weather has turned quite
vicious outside has it not? Please, make yourself comfortable and enjoy
a steaming rasklak."
"Spare me your tender ministrations, Scorpius," she said
bitterly.
"You do not appreciate being treated with tenderness, my dear?"
he teased as he elevated the illumination in the room. He motioned her
toward a lounger beside him.
Niem appeared from an alcove, placing a hot cup of rasklak into
her frigid hands. She disappeared just as quickly.
"He killed a fetus," she said quietly looking him in the eyes for
the very first time. She was beyond repulsion or fear of irreversible
contamination. She was beyond caring.
"What?" Scorpius asked cocking his head as he returned her gaze.
"Khetyr," she explained after taking a long draught of the potent
beverage. "He found out one of Crais' officers was pregnant by him. .
.and he poisoned the fetus causing it to be stillborn."
"Ghastly," Scorpius sighed. "So now you know where your
allegiances do and do not lie."
"With great trepidation. . .yes." she whispered.
"Glorious," he smiled patting her knee affectionately. "We will
begin immediately."
"You're going to kill Crais, Pollivar and Khetyr?" she asked
closing her eyes and finishing the rasklak. Her stomach was empty and
she could feel it already going to her head.
"Crais will prove to be a ticklish problem," he admitted.
"However, Pollivar and Khetyr will not live to see another sunrise."
"I want to be there when Khetyr dies," she said, her voice a
monotone. "I want him to know where his death is coming from."
"Easily arranged," Scorpius replied. "And do you wish it to be a
lingering, painful death or quick and merciful."
"I want him to experience more terror than he ever thought
imaginable," she whispered icily.
"As you wish." He said as he stretched his long, spindly legs out
in front of his lounger. "Come to my ship in four arns. Everything will
be arranged."
** ** ** ** **
Magistrate Tolan Pollivar raised the collar of his uniform great
coat more snuggly about his neck. He positioned his garrison cap on his
balding head and stepped out into the frigid night air. He normally
enjoyed the brisk walk to his quarters, but the unforgiving wind
whipping across IAD Square made that impossible this night. He walked
gingerly, but as quickly as the icy sidewalk would permit, nearly
losing his balance several times.
He rounded the corner near his billet block and noticed footfalls
behind him. Faint and nearly drowned out by the howling wind, but still
he knew someone was following him. He glanced briefly over his shoulder
and saw the indistinct figure of a woman a distance behind him. Her
cloak rippled in the wind as she turned down an adjacent street.
He inserted his ident-chip into the level riser panel and waited
for it to arrive. He rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet to
keep warm in the relentless gale. The doors opened and he stepped
quickly inside. As he punched in his billet code, a stinging tightness
wrapped around his neck. A monofilament garrote was rapidly cutting off
his oxygen. He struggled against his unseen attacker but was rapidly
losing consciousness. His feet were slipping and sliding beneath him as
the level riser shot upward.
He fumbled with desperate fingers for the face of his assailant,
but could not gain a grasp. Finally, as the level riser reached the top
of his billet block, it stopped with a jolt. He lost his footing and
hung by his full weight from the garrote. As he fought to remain
conscious he felt himself begin dragged out of the riser and into a
corridor. It was utter blackness around them. He could not be certain
if it was his brain dying or that all lights had been extinguished
prior to this attack.
He heard the whine of the level riser as it reversed itself and
fell rapidly downward. As the last of his life drained away he sensed
he was falling forward and air rushing up to meet him. His heart burst
as he landed atop the level rise seventy-eight floors below.
From far above, Niem looked down at her handiwork. No one would
have survived that fall, she thought silently. The non-marking garrote
would leave no evidence, Scorpius assured her. It would be investigated
and the case closed on a tragic accident.
** ** ** ** **
Khetyr tumbled out of bed naked and stunned at the sound of
commando boots in his bedchamber. Before he could cry out a rifle butt
smashed into his face. He shrieked and teeth fell from his bloody
mouth. Survival instinct the only thing left in him beyond terror, he
scrambled along the floor like an animal. Getting to his feet in the
corridor of his billet block, he began to run faster than he ever had
before in his life.
The commandos were behind him as he escaped out into the night.
His bare feet hit the ice-covered pavement and he went down hard.
Crying, gasping for breath and choking on his own blood, Khetyr
struggled to his feet and ran again. He made it to the corner and down
a narrow street before he felt the sharp stab in the nape of his neck.
He'd been shot with an anesthine dart and the drug was now spreading
through his cerebrospinal fluid and brain. He would have only microts
to find a place to hide before he lost consciousness.
"Lil," he cried out as he dove behind a waste receptacle. His
skin stuck instantly to the wet ice on the ground and he found himself
trapped. Commando boots rang out in the night as they came closer to his
pathetic hiding place.
"Lil!"
** ** ** ** **
When he awoke, Khetyr found himself completely immobilized. He
fought to free himself only to have water splash up into his face. He
choked and coughed.
"Good, you're awake," EL-Vashti said softly.
"Lil, what's happening?" he yelled fighting again only to be
rewarded with another mouthful of water.
"An amends, my love." She answered.
"What!" he shrieked.
"I would remain still if I were you," said another voice,
frightening even in its gentleness. "You will live far longer if you
remain perfectly still."
"Lil, what is happening? Why are you doing this?" he shouted then
swallowed more water.
"My colleague, Scorpius, devised this manner of death for you,
Jinn." El-Vashti explained coming closer to the isolation tank. "I must
admit it is truly the most unique manner of death I've ever seen."
"Lil, stop this now!" Khetyr pleaded. "Please, release me from
this thing."
"It's quiet simplistic, really." She went on as though she had
not heard him. "In case you've not figured it out, you are wrapped in a
stasis cocoon. The brilliant part of course is that it has been
manipulated to leave your face exposed.
"As anyone knows, a stasis cocoon has a great deal of buoyancy,
but it will not float forever. They have this horrible flaw of
gradually absorbing liquids, which is why a crash landing on a water
planet is always dreadful when you have a shipload of patients in
stasis. But, you know that right, my love?
"At any rate, my colleague came up with the notion of putting
your cocoon into an isolation tank filled with just enough water to
saturate it and still leave a high enough level to allow you to drown.
. .ever so slowly. A just reward for your betrayal, I would say." She
explained.
"Most just, Magistrate EL-Vashti." Scorpius said as he came to
stand behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders.
"Of course it can never repay the life of the fetus you
murdered, you vigilar!" she hissed with finality.
Scorpius switched off the comm in the stasis cocoon and escorted
EL-Vashti out of the chamber, his arm lightly draped around her
shoulders.
What little light in the isolation tank faded to black and Khetyr
began to scream. His own breathing was loud in his ears and water was
splashing up his nose and into his mouth. The air in the tank began to
turn bad quickly and he sensed the cocoon dropping lower in the water.
Before long it was above his mouth and tickling icily at his nostrils.
Images of the entire debacle with Crais flashed through his mind.
He remembered his words of warning to EL-Vashti the day they departed
for their journey to the Mhultaan.
"I've heard of Bialar Crais." Khetyr said. "He's very powerful
and popular with the Admiralty and High Command. So is Scorpius;
prominent scientist with the SRD and all that dren. How the satra do
you think he's tolerated by High Command otherwise? Talk about
irreversible contamination! This has the probability of landing us all
on the torture table."
He saw her face, soft and white contorted in ecstasy beneath him;
glowing with a cruel smile as she worked. He did not flinch as the
water reached his nostrils. Instead he cried out her name. He then
breathed in sharply through his mouth allowing his lungs to fill with
water.