Authors: Cyndi Friberg
Saebin projected a mental pulse ahead of her, so the shots caught her by surprise. The guards hurried toward the opening as Saebin returned fire. Why hadn’t they gone down? They should be unconscious.
Using a tight shoulder roll to avoid their well-aimed barrage, she advanced toward the overlord who was still seated behind his desk. She caught one of the guards in the neck, propelling him backward. The second lunged for her, his weapon firing in staccato bursts.
Cyrus shouted something, then grunted as Lyrik delivered a vicious uppercut to his jaw. A narrow beam arced over Saebin’s shoulder and dropped the second guard. She glanced behind her and found Dro Tar standing beneath the mouth of the vortex.
“Move! They’re on to us,” Dro Tar called.
Lyrik heaved his father to his shoulder and jogged toward the transport conduit. The office door burst open as the vortex sucked them back onto the
Gale
. Angry shouts and wild weapons’ fire erupted as Krysta collapsed the conduit.
“Go! Lor, get us out of here,” Lyrik shouted into his audiocom.
The ship shuddered, then lurched forward, banking sharply to the left. Saebin steadied herself against a storage bin, but Lyrik slammed into the wall. They paused for a moment, waiting for the trajectory to stabilize before continuing on toward the holding cell.
Lyrik dumped the overlord onto the narrow bunk with a disdainful glower. Stepping out of the small cell, he activated the energy field. “Let’s put some distance between us and the COT.”
Saebin stood outside the holding cell staring at the unconscious overlord. Like Dr. Hydran, this man’s corrupt nature wasn’t evident in his features, but his actions spoke eloquently of his weak character. They had to act quickly. Every second they waited increased the chances her handler would learn of Cyrus’s capture and bolt.
Lyrik hadn’t given her specific instructions when he hurried back to the bridge. She hesitated another moment, then sent a mental compulsion into the overlord’s mind. Nothing happened. The pulse should have jolted him back to wakefulness.
His resistance to her abilities was a new development. He had responded instantaneously when they stole the
Gale
. This was further proof that he had planted the assassin or at the very least was involved with those responsible.
He groaned, rubbing his bruised jaw as he focused on his surroundings. “Where am I? What is the meaning of this?”
She wanted to laugh at his imperious tone, but she was D-159, emotionless, unable to function beyond her handler’s directives.
He scooted off the bunk and stood, tugging on his uniform top with an angry jerk. “What is your objective?”
She stared at him silently, maintaining an expressionless mask.
“Did you hear me? D-159 report. What is your objective?”
“She doesn’t answer to you, old man.”
The rush of excitement caused by Lyrik’s voice was harder to conceal than her resentment. He stepped up beside her, arms crossed over his chest, and glared at his father.
“You won’t get away with this,” Cyrus said. “They’ll hunt you down like —”
“Like an overlord who’s selling his people to the highest bidder?” Lyrik’s voice dropped to a menacing growl, and he moved closer to the energy barrier. “Who’s backing your play? The Kitinians? The Rodytes? Or a discontented faction on Bilarri? The gadget we dug out of Tann’s head was far beyond our technological capabilities.”
“You can’t pretend you’re not as frustrated as we are. I’ve seen the exasperation in your eyes.”
“Who is ‘we’?” Lyrik’s expression never wavered, but Saebin heard the subtle change in his voice. Cyrus had found a chink in his armor. She didn’t fully understand the conflict, but Lyrik wasn’t immune to it.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re content on Ontariese.” He paused, his brow raised in challenge. “The Mystics are trying to take over. This has been brewing for a long time.”
Ignoring his father’s manipulation, Lyrik asked, “Where did Tann get the implant? For that matter, where did you?”
“Tann’s was a prototype. We weren’t sure it would work.” The overlord glanced at Saebin, then returned his attention to his son. “How could you turn traitor over — that? She’s the biological housing for a sophisticated set of integrated implants.”
“Your argument might be more effective if you hadn’t sacrificed your honor and abandoned your responsibilities in pursuit of that same technology.” Cyrus didn’t respond to the charge, so Lyrik continued. “Back to the implants. Where did you get your latest toy?”
“War has been inevitable ever since the High Queen was rescued. We won’t be caught unprepared.”
“According to whom?” Lyrik flared. “War is never inevitable. There are always choices.”
“The Joint Council argues about clarifications and traditions that haven’t had any real meaning for generations. All the while they subtly shift the balance of power. If we don’t stand up for ourselves, we will have nothing left to defend.”
Lyrik rubbed the back of his neck, fatigue etching lines around his eyes and mouth. “And your solution is to blow up a ship full of innocent people?”
Cyrus snorted and threw his hands in the air. “The Bilarrians are part of the problem. Only those with powerful Mystic abilities have any value on Bilarri. The Joint Council is using their society as a template for ours. If this alliance is allowed to solidify, you will be part of the discarded underclass. Why can’t you see what they’re trying to do?”
“Who is supplying you with the technology to resist the Mystics?”
With a defiant glower, Cyrus turned his back on Lyrik and returned to the bunk. “You’re too late. It’s already begun.”
* * * * *
Ensley pulled the snug-fitting cap over her head and secured it to her shield suit. Her three-member team was well equipped and efficient. She would present the Level Four child to the Stirate. She must. Jaden was on the verge of passing her on to the crew. She could sense his displeasure. He sat in the pilot’s seat of the small space craft, watching every move she made. He’d been especially cruel after the bizarre incident with Pern. She couldn’t explain what had happened the night before, didn’t understand it herself. It was as if someone else had taken over her thoughts and feelings.
“You can’t afford to be distracted.” His harsh tone cut into her musing.
“I understand the mission.”
“Our only advantage is surprise. We are not yet ready for a frontal assault.”
She didn’t respond to his badgering. Instead she rechecked the pressure in her energy canister. Every time she made a tight fist, the canister expelled a burst of energy through the thin tube on the top of her gloves. Creating an external version of her munitions implants had been Jaden’s idea. They made a good team, or they had until last night.
She motioned D-2-5 and D-2-6 toward the hatch with a careful hand signal. They followed without hesitation. Mystic Brook flowed through the clearing not far from the ship. Penetrating the shield without notice was impossible, so they would only have a matter of minutes to execute the plan. As well as possessing the standard weaponry, D-2-5 was able to teleport, and D-2-6 had been fitted with the containment field mechanism that had performed flawlessly in the laboratory. Secure in their arrogance, the Mystics would never anticipate a brash invasion of their sanctuary.
Unable to suppress her smile, Ensley paused for one last scan of the Conservatory. The Level Four child was in a room near the center of the sprawling building. Two adults were with the child, and others moved about just beyond the room.
“Concentrate, D-2-5. You must put us inside that room.”
“Affirmative.”
They moved into formation, weapons ready, back to back. Resisting the urge to close her eyes, Ensley accepted the colorful vertigo as D-2-5 opened a transport conduit. She gritted her teeth against the painful ringing in her ears and waited for their destination to manifest. The overwhelming roar eased, then the blinding light. They emerged in a small, warm room.
D-2-5 pivoted, aiming both fists at the door. A female held the Level Four child, so Ensley grabbed her from behind, positioning her hands strategically. “If I tighten my fists, a stream of energy will be expelled into your brain and the brain of your child.” She knew the woman wasn’t the child’s mother, but she didn’t want to reveal their true purpose too quickly.
The child’s father stood three steps away. Ensley knew how quickly he could move or change shape. She’d seen him in action on Earth before D-159 incapacitated him. The effort nearly killed D-159.
His bright green eyes took in the scene with shrewd deliberation. Could he shift through their bodies and snatch the child from the woman’s arms? He narrowed his gaze, and Ensley’s implant vibrated as it dispelled his mental compulsion.
“Not so powerful now.” She smiled triumphantly, and D-2-6 launched the containment field.
The Mystic went wild within the translucent sphere. He pounded against it, he shifted forms, he shouted and screamed, but no sound penetrated the dense energy field. D-2-6 sank to her knees as she struggled to maintain the sphere.
Though the female Mystic remained perfectly still, her body temperature rose at an alarming rate. Even through her armor Ensley’s skin began to burn. “Let’s go,” she snapped. She had only planned to snatch the child, and she wouldn’t risk losing him now.
Leaving D-2-6 to maintain the containment field, Ensley and D-2-5 stepped back into the transport conduit.
“Who are they? What did they promise you?” Lyrik rolled his shoulders and looked at Saebin. This was useless. The overlord wasn’t going to tell them anything. Cyrus sat on the bunk, staring at the wall beyond Lyrik in mutinous silence.
Time for good cop, bad cop.
“I’ve expanded D-159’s parameters.” He paused, waiting for the overlord to react. Cyrus maintained his expressionless demeanor. “D-159, new objective. Interrogation.”
“Objective accepted. Provide data.”
The familiar phrases brought Cyrus’s head up. He looked at Saebin, then turned his rapidly spinning gaze on Lyrik. “You wouldn’t.”
“The overlord has information in direct opposition to the greater good. You must learn who is supplying him with the technology we found in Tann and the ultimate purpose for the association. Do you understand?”
“Affirmative.”
Cyrus shot to his feet, his forehead deeply furrowed, jaw working frantically. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re damn right I don’t understand! So, explain it to me. What are you planning, and why shouldn’t I shoot you where you stand for high treason?” Lyrik’s audiocom beeped, and he tapped the device so hard it nearly came loose from his ear. “What? I’m a little busy right now.”
“I need you on the bridge. Tal just … just get up here.” The terror in Krysta’s voice sent a violent shudder down Lyrik’s spine.
“Copy.”
“Bring Saebin with you. Dro Tar is already on her way down.”
Posting a guard was probably overkill, but Lyrik wasn’t taking any chances. He motioned for Saebin to follow him, and she did without question.
“What’s going on?” Cyrus asked.
Lyrik ignored him.
Dro Tar stepped out of one lift as the doors slip open for the other. “No worries,
mon capitaine
. I’ll torment him for you.”
Despite the tension knotting his belly, Lyrik smiled. The lift whisked them to the bridge, and Krysta began her frantic explanation before the doors slid shut behind them.
“They kidnapped Seth. They teleported into the Conservatory and snatched him away from Vee.”
“How is that possible?” Lyrik asked. “The Mystic shields are impenetrable.”
“Apparently not.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes and paused for a deep breath. “All Tal could tell me is that Vee is in bad shape. He is asking for Saebin so I need to take her to the Conservatory. I’ll fill you in on the details as soon as I know more.”
“Of course.” He turned to Saebin and gave her a quick hug. “We’ll be right behind you. Go.”
* * * * *
Dizzy from the transport conduit, Saebin knelt beside Vee’s cot. Her chest ached, and all the adjustments of her armor wouldn’t alleviate the pain. Death hovered over the Mystic. She could sense it, smell it, and see it in his eyes.
“I … choose … Tal,” he whispered, each word an individual effort.
She looked at the dark-haired Mystic. Did he understand what Vee was trying to say?
Krysta knelt on the other side of the cot, tears streaming down her face.
“I
choose
…”
“The conduit.” Krysta looked into Saebin’s eyes, urgency sharpening her tone and molding her expression. “The ancient ritual. He is choosing Tal to inherit his wisdom.”
“No.” Tal took a step back. “He will recover. He just needs time and —”
“Now,” Vee cut in. “Do it now, or all is lost.”
Krysta sobbed openly, no longer attempting to conceal her sorrow.
Vee reached for Saebin’s hand, and her heart lurched. “I don’t know how. It was an image from a dream —”
“Vision.” Vee squeezed her fingers, ending her objection. “Ye know. Ye have always known.”
Grief lodged in her throat, making it hard to swallow. Vee had saved her life. She had tried to kill him, and he had showed her the ultimate kindness. How could she refuse him anything?
“Tal, please kneel beside Krysta and take Vee’s hand.”
Tal turn his face away, his hair cracking like a whip before it coiled down the middle of his back. “He is not dying.”
“If you refuse, everything he is will be lost.” Her insides trembled, and the pressure banding her heart made each breath painful, but somehow she managed to sound calm.
Tal released an exasperated cry and Shifted into place. He took Vee’s hand and raised it to his cheek. “Master …” Whatever he had meant to say was lost in his sorrow.
Saebin felt the strength bleeding from Vee’s fingers. She took Tal’s hand and opened her mind. Surrendering herself without reservation, she allowed the energy to flow. Scalding, intense, substantial, the transfer shook her body and paralyzed her mind. Images flashed and feelings saturated her being. Tears streamed down her face. Loss, burning determination, heart-breaking tenderness. This stoic Mystic felt more deeply than anyone could possibly imagine.