Ampado snatched the tablet out of Baun’s hands and shoved it toward a shocked Barrad. The lieutenant quickly set his case onto the nearby pile of crates and took the tablet. Ampado glared at Baun for a few more heartbeats before turning on his heel and stormed off, Barrad scurrying close behind.
“What was that?” Key asked.
Baun looked at the back of his hand and studied the blue tattoo. “I have no idea.”
“You been sleeping with Strant’s daughter, or something?”
“I haven’t been sleeping with anybody, and Strant doesn’t even have a daughter.”
“That confirms my theory, then. Ampado’s one missile shy a full payload.”
Baun sighed. “If he’s gone crazy, then we better get these crates loaded quickly. Let’s get launched before he has a reason to come back here and repeat that performance.”
Two hours later, the Geechee Boy was loaded. Baun had wanted to load the smallest crates first, and then use a forklift, when one became available, to lift the heaviest crates. Key, however, insisted, on loading the largest and heaviest containers first. It wasn’t Key’s physical prowess that Baun came to appreciate, but his skill at packing.
“See Baunee boy. It’s a puzzle.” Key slipped the last container into place and stood back from the cargo bay. The entire hatch was a wall of tightly fitted boxes. “Big pieces load first so we don’t run out of room. Then we stuff the little boxes in the gaps. If we loaded all the little stuff first, the heavy crates would have crushed them.”
“We could have stacked all the small boxes together so nothing heavy was on them. It would have created the same effect,” Baun said.
Key clicked his tongue and shook his head slowly. He looked at Baun sadly, as if Baun were a child who had just said he had an invisible friend.
“What?” Baun asked in exasperation. He followed Key down the ramp.
“It’s a Packer Precept called Leader Tail. It describes the cranked thinking of the last freighter in a String-of-Pearls formation. The tail scans what the whole string, especially the leader, is doing. If the leader brakes, then the tail breaks. If the tail simply follows the ship in front of his, then the tail will cork that guy’s burners when he suddenly brakes.”
“And that relates how?” Baun asked.
“Packer Precepts aren’t procedures—they’re paradigms,” Key said. “So in this case it means ‘think beyond the just now.’” He walked to the side of the ship and held his hand to a square outline near the hatch. Slowly the ramp raised to cover the cargo bay. “Think about the entire trip this cargo will make. When a ship as big as the Geechee Boy does a planetfall, it gets the quakes. The heavies serve as an anchor for the lighter cases. They need to be wedged in tight—between the heavies so they aren’t thrown about. The techs get cranked when their electro-delicates get smashed. Which is the second Packer Precept: know thy cargo.”
“I know we’ve got a portable shower in the cargo,” Baun said. “I’m first in line when it gets unpacked. I’m soaked with sweat.”
“Moski,” Key grunted. He turned and walked toward the front of the ship. “No worries, bunkie. The Geechee Boy has comforts missing in those little air trucks. Since Ampado assigned staggered launches, there’s time to shower on-board.”
“It doesn’t do me much good, my suitcase is somewhere in the middle of your cargo hold.”
“Nope.” Key smiled. “I expected your stinky state and stowed it in the cockpit. It’s too long a flight to have you smelling up the cockpit.”
“You do know your cargo!” Baun said with a laugh.
“She needs more than I can give her.”
“Is she still in danger?” Strant asked.
Doctor Tanal Obre joined Strant in watching the sleeping girl on the other side of the glass. While Tanal’s hair was not as gray as Strant’s, she was nearly four years Strant’s senior. She was wearing plain white scrubs. Missing were the customary red piping that would have denoted her rank.
“She’s past the physical crisis,” Tanal said, “but the trauma has gouged wounds in her soul that I cannot reach. Sanctuary can’t contribute much psychologically.”
“There’s safety,” Strant said.
“Maybe. You don’t know how far his reach now extends. But even if she is physically safe, this fortress can’t keep out the nightmares, and it can’t protect her from herself.”
“Suicide? Never!” Strant turned to her with a hard face. “She is stronger than that, and you know it.”
“Stronger?” Tanal shook her head. “No . . . despite her unique heritage, I doubt it can provide the right kind of strength for this. Her people have the same fragile souls that we harbor.”
“Then what will help?”
“It’s up to Asila, now. She can be encouraged, but she can’t be rushed without amplifying the trauma. I’m also worried that she’ll feel alienated in Sanctuary—there’s nothing familiar to comfort her here.”
Strant took Baun’s message from his pocket and handed it to Tanal. “We’re bringing her fiancé, Calon Myler, to Sanctuary. We had to anyway. Asila invoked the Zon Protectorate.”
“She knew of the accord? Kellor must have told her quite a bit.”
“How could he not? Calon’s reality, on the other hand, will be shredded when he arrives.” There was a soft beeping and Strant looked at his watch. He sighed with disgust. “Ampado, again. I’ll have to discuss Kellor’s autopsy later.” He turned toward the door.
“Strant?”
Strant paused at the door and looked back.
“Strant, trauma has a blast radius. It was a long time ago, but you’re still going to feel the same shock waves that will affect Asila and Calon. There will be a lot of guilt, a lot fear, and a lot of anger. Just remember that it’s normal.”
“Knowing that it’s normal,” Strant said, “won’t make it any easier.”
“Does it hurt?” Key had caught Baun staring at the blue rose tattoo again.
“Everything hurts,” Baun said, “but it’s from moving all those supply crates.” He smiled sheepishly and then stared out the cockpit to study the stars.
Key laughed and nodded toward Baun’s hand, which was now hidden under the other hand. “It’s bigger.”
Baun rolled his eyes. “Not as big as your nose.”
“Me? Nosy? You haven’t dropped a word for the last ten. How else am I supposed to stay awake?” Key swiveled his seat to face Baun and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. “You’ve figured it out,” Key said flatly.
“Figured what out?” Baun said with feigned confusion. Baun could tell by Key’s frown of disgust that he was unconvinced.
“Pul-lease,” Key groaned. “Everyone thinks I’m a huge lump o’ muscle without brain cells.”
“No, no,” Baun protested. “I just thought I’d been more subtle. How did you know?”
“Easy,” Key said with a toothy grin. “When you thought it was just an ink smudge, it was no big deal. But then suddenly you’re ashamed of it. You tried not to look at it, but that just made it harder to ignore. You kept sneaking peeks at it and getting all guilty looking each time. Nonchalant you cannot do, Baunee boy.”
“It was that obvious?”
“I practice deciphering the unspoken. It helps when playing Ampado’s little games. For example, Ampado won’t radio the landing coordinates until the last minute. But I’ve been calculating trajectories and looking through the cargo manifests. When Ampado pops the spot, the Geechee Boy’s nose will already be pointed in the right direction.”
“Where are we headed?” Baun asked.
“Not so fast, bunkie.” Key raised his thumb and pointed it to Baun’s hand. “You spill before I spill.”
Baun sighed and held up his hand so Key could get a good look at the mark. Baun studied the blue rose as well and slowly shook his head. “I haven’t really figured out what it is, but I’ve got a gut feeling where it came from.”
“Tell me I was right. It was a girl, wasn’t it?” Key asked.
“Asila Griff. I was in charge of getting her to the med bay. She was crying, and a tear landed on that very spot.”
“Could be chemicals in her system that reacted with your skin. They give rape victims special drugs so they won’t get pregnant.” Key cocked his head and squinted at the blue pattern.
“That wasn’t public knowledge. How did you know about the drugs?” Baun asked, a little stunned.
Key snorted. “That was a secret? Half of my inside news comes from flight deck chatter. The one thing I don’t know is who is Asila Griff?”
“She’s related to somebody important,” Baun said.
Key slapped is forehead. “Do I really look that stupid? Since when did secret military bases start granting access to unimportant civilians?”
“Okay, okay,” Baun said, raising open palms in surrender. “I’m not insulting you. It may be obvious, it may be old news, but how am I supposed to know what you’ve already heard? You asked and I answered with all I had.”
“Sorry,” Key said. “So many people assume that I’m an idiot just because of my size. I’m always on the defense.”
“I understand,” Baun said. “If I had to rub elbows with the likes of Ampado or Barrad, I’d be a bit touchy, too. Anyway, I can tell you this: she knew about Sanctuary before she ever arrived.”
“Yeah?”
“She invoked something called the Zon Protectorate Accord. I’ve never heard of it, but the Prime Commander didn’t seem a bit confused by the term.”
“I never heard of a Protectorate Accord,” Key said. “But every ship in the fleet uses a device called a Zon stone. They’re the part that generates the repulsor fields.”
“That would explain a lot. Sanctuary is the only place that builds repulsor units. If she’s related to the inventor, then the attack might have been an attempt to coerce information about the units.”
“But wouldn’t kidnapping make more sense than killing?” Key asked.
Baun thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. The assassination might be retaliation for lack of cooperation. Or maybe it showed their resolve, or their ability to hit important targets.”
“It’s still not on the plumb,” Key mused. “Why was it so all-fire important to get Mr. Griff’s body off the planet? They didn’t want the police, paramedics, or civilian authorities involved at all.”
There was a whistle and the consoles in front of Baun and Key flickered. The official seal of Sanctuary displayed for a moment as a steady beep continued. Then the cockpit went quiet and Ampado’s face appeared. “Gentlemen, your ships were launched in stages and routed along different trajectories to confuse any observers. You are to now converge on your primary target. Please decrypt the coordinates being transmitted and arrive at the site at the assigned ETA. Over and out.”
“Strap in,” Key said. “We’re in the first wave for planetfall. To make our ETA it will be a fast and bumpy drop to Gammera.”
“You think were headed to Gammera?” Baun asked.
“Sanctuary’s in a hurry, Baunee. Within their timeframe, the Geechee Boy can hit only two continents on Vale from this spot in space. The freight manifest includes rain catchers, water purifiers, and rain parkas. But the target’s not a tropical rain forest because they also shipped light jackets. Then there’s the minimal fighter compliment. Our destination has to be in friendly territory, so only Gammera has the political and physical climate that matches.”
“So, I don’t need to decrypt the landing coordinates, then?” Baun asked.
“That would be the one time I was wrong. I don’t want to give Ampado that satisfaction, so decrypt the coordinates. I’m guessing that they point to a spot inside the Karnath National Forest. I don’t know exactly where, but considering how weird things have been today, the strangest place that fits today’s flavor is the Teeth.”
Baun entered the decryption key and three numbers displayed on their consoles. Key linked the numbers into the ship’s on-board atlas and it displayed a map of Gammera with the cross hairs over the Karnath National Forest. Key zoomed in and confirmed that their landing target was next to the natural landmark.
“You don’t seem a bit surprised, Baunee boy.”
“Unlike Ampado, our team leader isn’t the secretive type. She assigned a large chunk of the logistics to me. I had to know our destination in order to requisition the right equipment.”
“You cheater!” Key laughed and locked in the coordinates. “Here you had all the answers, and I had to scrounge for every scrap of info.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Baun said. “I hear a lot of the what, but I’m in the dark as to the why.”
The ship was banking sharply now, and the planet nearly filled their view. Clouds obscured the lush green forests of Gammera, but Baun could make out part of the coast line.”
“It’s been three years since I left Vale,” Baun said quietly. “I’ve been so busy. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.” The ship was vibrating as they made contact with the atmosphere.
“I wish we were closer to civilization, though,” Key said. The repulsor shield was shimmering now and the view was blurring.
“Not me,” Baun said. “I can’t wait to feel the wind on my face and to hear the rain again.”
“You’ll regret that wish after we’ve camped in the rain for a month.”
Baun shrugged. They were in the upper clouds now, and various shades of white where screaming past. Baun’s stomach was trying to crawl up his throat, and it seemed safer to avoid speaking. Key looked over at Baun’s pale face and roared with laughter.
“Initiating planetfall,” Key hollered over the rattling. Key pressed his keypad and the ship dropped like a stone. If Baun’s stomach hadn’t been shoved into his brain cavity, he was certain that he would have puked.
“I apologize for scheduling you so late, doc,” Strant said.
She smiled at him. “I knew it was going to be this way, so I took a catnap. You should try it, especially today. It only takes twenty or thirty minutes to get your second wind.”
“Maybe for the next crisis. Unless you prescribe something, this is too personal to sleep through. How’s Asila?”
“Still sleeping,” Tanal said. “She needed a sedative, however. It will be awhile before sleep comes naturally.”
“Any other problems?” Strant said as he took a seat on the other side of Tanal’s desk.
“Nothing I didn’t expect. She kept washing her hands, and then she’d take a shower. She wouldn’t put on the previous gown, but demanded a new one each time. Then she’d make us promise to burn the old gown. She was in no condition to keep repeating that cycle, so about the fifth time through we gave her the pills.”
“Have you learned anymore about her wounds?”
“No, I only found more questions. We eliminated some theories, but that’s all. We’ve learned more from the autopsy, than from Asila.” She tapped her tablet with a stylus and studied it a moment. “The cause of death is still uncertain, but it was either loss of blood or head trauma. It looks as if the attacker seized Kellor’s skull with his left hand, just above the bridge of the nose. The crushing force was tremendous, because the skin doesn’t show the trauma of a slow, gradual squeezing, but of sudden compression.”
“What about the blood loss? His wounds were tiny. Could poison make it look like blood loss?”
“I’ve seen toxins congeal the blood, poisons destroy corpuscles, and venom induce hemorrhaging. But in every case, blood could still be found in the victim—although in a damaged or converted form. Strant, there wasn’t even a drop of plasma left in Kellor.”
“Could the puncture marks be an injection site? Could the venom break down the blood so that it could be quickly and thoroughly extracted?”
“Doubtful. Asila had the same puncture wounds from the same attacker. No, it doesn’t fit. If Kulguct wanted to use venom, wouldn’t he have sent akabysh?”
“There were akabysh with the attacker,” Strant said. Tanal shivered and looked down at the table.
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” she said. “But it supports my theory—their venom would have been more than adequate for the job, and there would have been unmistakable traces of the toxin.”
“Kulguct couldn’t rely on just the akabysh anymore,” Strant said. “He never knew how devastatingly successful their attacks were because we made sure that none survived their missions. His only option was an assassin with higher intelligence.”
“That means he has access to resources beyond the akabysh. Otherwise, he would have sent an assassin before now. He must have escaped!” Chayna’s eyes narrowed at the sound of her own words.
“No,” Strant said. “Asila is the key to his prison, and as long as the attacks continue it means he’s still a captive.”
“Then why have we never seen this assassin before? Can Kulguct draw on resources outside of his prison?”
“I almost wish that were the answer,” Strant said.
“What alternative could be worse?”
“Kulguct already had this weapon. But when none of his akabysh returned, he grew desperate enough to use it. He didn’t use it before because it was hard to control—and powerful enough to worry even Kulguct. I’m hoping you’ll find a more optimistic alternative.”
“I can give you all the facts, but the final analysis is beyond my field of study.”
“Like anyone from Vale has studied the field of sorcery,” Strant sighed. “Everyone is terrified of this assignment, and I’m stuck defending Vale against an enemy we’ve never seen and know so little about.”
“Ampado would gladly take your job,” Tanal said with a smile.
“Which is why he can never have it. If he truly understood the danger, he wouldn’t be so ambitious. He’s never seen one of Kulguct’s attacks before. For years he’s constantly questioned my competency behind my back.”
“I’m surprised at you, Strant. You’re letting him get to you.”
“It’s the fatigue. I promise to get some sleep as soon as we’re done.”
“Then we can finish tomorrow,” she said. He started to protest, but she held up a hand. “Drink some warm milk, do some tensing exercises, and keep the lights out. If you continue to work late, then I’ll put you on medical leave and Ampado will be running the show. Nobody wants that, do we?”
Strant nodded wearily and stood slowly. He stepped to the door and turned back. “I really appreciate what you’re doing for Asila, doc.”
“You’re my patient, too, Strant.”
“I’ll behave,” he said and then he was gone.
They weren’t the words she wanted to hear, but they never were.
“I’ll be here for you,” she said.
It was daylight on the unnamed planet. More than a thousand years had passed since Nawphal’s eyes had seen sunlight, but he could still sense its oppressive heat even underground. When it rose, his mind would enter a stupor that drifted in shades of consciousness. He would remember, he would think, he would plan, but never could he truly sleep.
Today he remembered the lake. The dark mountains that confined its still waters were as tall as the lake was deep. The other acolytes were already camped at the shore the day he arrived. Now they were complete—ten applicants to serve and receive power. But one acolyte would never leave the school. The Zmeu required a tithe, one student, who would loose his life so that nine could return to the surface— Nine mighty warlocks to trample the earth and to rule with impunity. One eternal slave to guard the black secrets of the Zmeu.
On the third winter equinox, the Zmeu summoned them for the tithe. The selection ceremony, however, had been only a pretense. Long before this hour, the Zmeu had chosen, and nine of the acolytes knew the truth when they entered the chamber. Their poisoned daggers were plunged deep into Nawphal and then they lashed his convulsing body to the cold stone altar. He had screamed for hours as every drop of blood was drawn from his veins. The heat also drained from Nawphal’s body until it was as cold as the stone that he lay upon. His mind, however, never died and he could still hear their whispered incantations as his body sank into the stone as if the boulder were made of quicksand. Then he heard no more. Not even his own heartbeat.
The bloodstained stone spared his sanity, at least. Imprisoned in it for years at a time he would sleep dreamlessly until summoned by the Zmeu. At first, resentment ate at Nawphal, but eventually his errands took him above the surface of Lake Sibu. The centuries eventually consumed the corpses of the nine, but Nawphal had won immortality in the trade. His servitude was comfortable and there was always the chance for escape. His chance was very close, now.
“I’m coming for you,” Nawphal said.
The Zmeu was incredible in his power, but this Kulguct was an acolyte in comparison. It had been a shock when Kulguct summoned him from the bloodstone. The school was empty—an ancient emptiness so many centuries old that he could feel it. A few minor black secrets had been left behind, and Kulguct had found at least one: the Zmeu’s tithe dagger. With it, Kulguct opened Nawphal’s prison, and with it, he kept Nawphal subservient. Or so Nawphal let him believe. Once Nawphal drank his fill of blood, it would be easy to cast off the bonds of the dagger. Once broken, not even a Zmeu could restore the restraints.
“I’m coming for you,” Nawphal said.
He tried to dream of the girl again, but her image was like smoke, and quickly faded away. Maybe she was too far away. Maybe she had survived. The man’s image, however, he could conjure. Only the face would appear, and it rippled fluidly, almost transparent. But the image did not break apart, and when the sun of this planet set, it would be easier. On the third night, Nawphal would be ready.
“I’m coming for all of you,” Nawphal said.