Alien Chronicles 3 - The Crystal Eye (50 page)

“Where?” Ampris asked Israi.

“The Plaza of the Kaas,” Israi replied.

Ampris cut off the link, but from outside she could hear the sound of approaching shuttles.

Elrabin was swearing, and she gripped him. “Get everyone out.”

“Ain’t many folk left.”

“Get them out now. Leave the equipment. Its purpose is finished.”

“But—”

“I’m going,” she said, picking up her robe from the back of a chair.

He reached out and stopped her. “You wait,” he said angrily. “No way you going without me. The plan was—”

“The plan—my part of it—has been changed,” she said. “Pass the word to everyone. The exodus is coming. Everyone should be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Tell them to wait for the signal.”

“But, Goldie—”

“Mother! A patrol shuttle is coming!” Foloth said, running downstairs, with Nashmarl right on his heels. Then Velia appeared, assisting the wounded Quiesl. Tantha limped after her, shepherding her cubs along.

Ampris stared deep into Elrabin’s worried eyes. “Take care of them, my old friend. Take care of yourself.”

“Wait!” he said desperately, but Ampris wrapped herself in the robe and limped down to the access tunnel.

She was surprised to see that Luthien’s Kelths were still guarding it. One of them was holding a small scanner and had his ears backed. “Trouble coming in.”

“We’ve been traced,” she said. “Help Elrabin get everyone out of the building. Don’t save the equipment. Don’t worry about the viruses. If the patrollers break into the cooler, they’ll regret it.”

Nodding, the Kelths trotted for the meeting room, and Ampris went on through the tunnel.

Emerging onto the street, she put up the hood of her robe and ducked along the back of the building into an alley. Behind her, she could hear the shuttle landing and the barked commands of the patrollers. Her heart squeezed in worry, but she kept going.

She had faith in Elrabin’s abilities to get the others to safety. Her own path now lay elsewhere.

It took a long time for her to walk across the city. When she and Elrabin had first planned this, Elrabin was going to steal a skimmer and fly her to the rendezvous. But Ampris knew it was better that she go this way, alone. In these empty streets, a stolen skimmer would have been picked up by patrol sniffers right away.

The security field was firmly activated between the ghetto and the Viis districts of Vir, but Elrabin had taught all of them how to get past it. Although Ampris found her energy giving out, she kept trudging along. Very few folk were out this morning. The stench of death and smoke lay thick over the ghetto, reaching even into some of the Viis neighborhoods. Public transport was shut down, but Ampris could not use it anyway without a registration implant.

Panting and weary, she reached the Avenue of Triumph sometime after midday. Normally she would have been roasting under her long robe and hood, but right now she still felt cold. Her leg ached, and her entire body urged her to stop and rest. But there wasn’t time to rest. Ampris pressed on.

She heard music ahead of her, stirring Viis military marches, along with the muted cheering of a small crowd.

As she drew closer to the Plaza of the Kaas, a handsome memorial in the city’s center, she saw a moderate turnout of Viis citizens clustered around a large dais. Palace guards in green cloaks stood alert with drawn weapons. Patrollers in black body armor and helmets manned the crowd barricades. So far the crowd did not look sizable enough to cause any trouble.

Ampris looked, but saw no abiru or Rejects at all. Selected volunteers were supposed to be here, but it looked like her Freedom Network had lost hope. Her spirits sank, but she gave herself an angry shake. After having struggled so long and hard to get here, Ampris wasn’t going to give up. She would see this through to the bitter end.

On the dais, beneath the floating vidcams, Israi sat with her chancellors and ministers. Ehssk the Butcher was present too, wearing a vivid coat. No doubt he was there to bolster public confidence.

Ampris hesitated a moment, feeling very tired. Her courage failed her momentarily, but she backed her ears beneath her hood and forced herself forward.

“There she is!” shouted a patroller, pointing at her.

Members of the crowd screamed and backed away from her. Others were pushed aside by the patrollers who ran forward to surround her.

Ampris stopped, her heart pounding fast, as they loomed over her, each one pointing a side-arm right at her. This, she thought, was the moment of decision. They might simply shoot her down here and now.

Quickly she lifted her head. “I have come to confess!” she called out.

Israi heard her and leaned forward to speak to one of her guards.

“Bring the prisoner here!” the officer commanded.

The patrollers closed in around Ampris. With their visors down, she could not see their faces, but she could smell the sourness of their skin. They were hostile, perhaps even a little frightened, and eager to kill her.

She limped forward, careful to make no threatening moves.

The palace guard stopped her well short of the dais and scanned her for weapons. “She’s clean.”

The patrollers gestured for Ampris to climb onto the dais. She hugged herself a moment, then forced herself to stand more erect as she looked at the Kaa, so resplendent in a wide-skirted gown made of cloth of gold. It was embroidered richly and glittered with costly yellow tafir jewels sewn across the bodice. She wore a gossamer-fine scarf of gold-colored silk about her head and draped across her shoulders. Her slippers were coated with jewel dust. From head to foot, she glittered with a radiance that was dazzling in the bright sunshine.

In contrast, Ampris stood there in a dusty robe of badly dyed cloth woven on Aaroun looms, a combination of imperfect handiwork and poor materials.

The council members seated on either side of Israi looked sleek, handsomely dressed, and well-fed. Ampris noticed how they all stayed behind the force field. That concerned her. She had to find a way to lure Israi from behind that barrier.

The captain of the guards saluted Israi. “The prisoner is before your majesty.”

Israi did not spare Ampris a glance. She gestured gracefully. “Let her stand where she is. Ehssk?”

The scientist rose to his feet and stepped onto the circle on the dais, which activated both cams and loudspeaker. “Citizens of Vir,” he said loudly, his voice carrying across the Plaza. “The so-called plague is nothing but a hoax, created by this Aaroun rebel named Ampris. No Dancing Death has reached our city. There have been no outbreaks. All Viis citizens are safe and will be kept safe. The abiru-fever affects only abiru. It cannot harm you.”

A scattering of applause prompted him to bow like an entertainer. Smirking, he resumed his seat.

Ampris stared at Ehssk, feeling the fur on her neck bristle as she remembered all the degrading torture he had put her through. He was a fool and a charlatan. Under the name of research he had tormented and killed countless victims, including her newborn daughter. Ampris would never forgive him for that. She had vowed to kill him, and now he was within her reach.

But she had to put her own feelings aside and remember what she had come here to do.

Drawing in an unsteady breath, she glanced at Israi. “May I speak now, majesty?” she asked in a voice of deepest respect and humility.

“Yes, Ampris,” Israi said. She was glowing with satisfaction and triumph. “We will now accept your confession.”

A guard pointed at the circle, but Ampris already knew that she had to stand on it to be heard. The cams floated closer to her face, but she kept her hood in place. She was shivering now, and the robe felt good around her.

In fluent Viis, she began to speak: “The Dancing Death is greatly feared by Viis citizens, and it should be. The once mighty Viis empire was nearly destroyed by this mysterious disease, which was brought back by an explorer from a faraway world. It has decimated families and eliminated entire bloodlines. Millions of Viis died in the last great plague, and no cure was found then. No cure has been found now. Worst of all, the plague left you unable to bear and fertilize eggs with the same abundance as before.”

Lord Brax leaned forward in his chair and hissed. “Sacrilege!”

Ampris ignored him. “The legendary beauty of the Viis people has also been diminished by this terrible disease. Fewer and fewer Viis hatchlings are accepted each year. More and more Rejects are pushed out into squalor and poverty, abandoned by their families because they are somehow less than perfect.”

“Don’t get carried away, Ampris,” Ehssk said to her. “You’re not here to give a speech.”

She ignored him too. Unless someone shot her, she was going to keep talking. “Your scientists have given you many assurances,” she said. “Your government has issued statements saying that the abiru-fever cannot harm you. But it can. The government has told you falsehoods, claiming that this is not the Dancing Death. It is. It has returned to you in a mutated, more virulent form. It struck the abiru folk first, but it will reach the Viis. It is already spreading among the Reject population, your abandoned chunen, who are dying of it without aid or care.”

“Ampris,” Israi said coldly, “say what you agreed to say.”

Ampris stood a little straighter. “Be afraid!” she said, her voice ringing out across the Plaza to the Viis faces upturned to her. “Think how many abiru there are. Yes, the Kaa in her great wisdom has killed many of them, but there are more. Not just the common laborers that lie dead in the ghetto this day, but all the slaves in Viis households. Slaves that prepare Viis food, that tend Viis hatchlings and chunes. The most loyal, loving slave has only to give a hatchling a caressing lick, and the infection is spread. As her majesty already has cause to know.”

Israi’s rill stiffened and she rose to her feet. The guards started toward Ampris, who cried out, “Will you silence the truth? Do these people know that all the abiru slaves in the palace have been removed? Not one remains to serve the Kaa and her court.”

Israi gestured, and the guards stopped reluctantly just short of Ampris.

“Take care,” Israi whispered, her gaze flicking to the cams to show that she was well aware that today’s events were being broadcast live to the entire city and planet.

The crowd had begun to shift uneasily. People were speaking to each other. A murmur of astonishment and alarm rose from them.

Ampris pretended not to hear Israi’s warning. She knew the Kaa dared not cut her off at this moment. “The most rebellious, resentful slave has only to spit in the food of his master, and the infection is spread. Perhaps such a thing has already happened in your household. Can anyone watching this vidcast feel complete assurance that no slave in his employ is uninfected? The only way to stop the plague from spreading into the Viis population is to let the abiru leave Viisymel forever. We have made this offer, but the Kaa will not release us. Ask your Imperial Mother to let us go. Ask her!”

The crowd looked alarmed now. A female screamed, “My chunen are not safe. If the sri-Kaa can die, what will protect my little ones?”

They began to shove, trying to leave, but the patrollers held them in place.

“You,” a guard said curtly to Ampris, “stand aside.”

Ampris whirled around and met Israi’s furious gaze. “What will you say to them, majesty? How will you calm them now?”

“You go too far,” Israi said. “The death of our son is not a subject for your rhetoric.”

“I sympathize with your loss,” Ampris replied. “Ask Ehssk why he had to dissect my daughter at birth.”

Israi’s gaze faltered. She glanced at the scientist momentarily, and he rose to his feet. “Majesty, this accusation from a slave is too absurd. What possible—”

“Be silent,” Israi said.

Beyond the dais the crowd was sounding frantic and angry now. Israi’s attention moved in that direction. Her tongue flicked out.

“You will pay for this, Ampris,” she said harshly and stepped out from behind her protective shield.

“Majesty, be careful!” Lord Brax called out.

But Israi walked to the circle and stood there, facing her alarmed subjects with magnificent, regal calm. Within seconds, they stopped pushing at the barricades and turned to stare at her. She gestured, and they fell silent.

“Good citizens, you have seen our mercy toward this poor deluded Aaroun, who was once dear to our heart. We raised her as a pet, and out of fond memories we allowed her to speak today, giving her the chance to confess her wrongdoing to you. Instead, she has alarmed you with lies and yet more lies.”

“Majesty, take care!” called out someone from the crowd.

Her rill extended fully behind her head, Israi smiled. She glittered in the sunlight with every breath she drew. “We believe the assurances of our eminent scientists.”

From his chair, Ehssk bowed very low.

“We have not removed our abiru slaves from the palace,” Israi said, lying boldly. “How could we appear before you dressed and bathed and jeweled if this were true? The sri-Kaa we will not discuss, for our heart grieves too much. How many of you have lost young and tender hatchlings in their first year?” She raised the edge of her scarf to her face as though to mask grief, then lowered it. “So many things go wrong so quickly.”

She paused a moment, bowing her head, and no one moved or spoke.

“Citizens,” she continued, “listen not to the ravings of an ignorant savage. We say ‘ignorant,’ for although Ampris was given an education by us, taught to read and speak Viis for our amusement when we were young, she does not understand what she has read. She has convinced her fellow abiru that a treaty once existed between her people and ours, a treaty that promised the Aarouns their freedom.”

Israi spread out her hands. “Such a treaty was signed centuries ago, but its terms stipulated that the Aarouns could not leave our service until their land became capable of supporting life again. Lord Temondahl?”

She turned to the chancellor, who handed her a holo-cube.

Activating it, Israi held up the image of Sargas III before the cams, displaying it as a barren, lifeless rock. “This is the homeworld of the Aaroun race,” Israi said. “We saved the Aarouns from death centuries ago, and they owe us a great debt. Yet now we are accused of deceit and evil oppression, for we will not let them return to a world which cannot support life. How many of you have stopped a chune from hurting herself and been accused of oppression when she threw a tantrum?”