Demon Lord V - God Realm (29 page)

Nikira stood
up. "Thank her."

Leaving the
lingtech to deal with Sarrin's questions, Nikira returned to her
office, where she found her communications screen beeping for
attention. She activated it, and Enyo's broad visage filled it.

"I think you
should come down here."

Nikira hurried
to the containment room, her heart hammering with a strange mixture
of trepidation and concern. Enyo turned from his console when she
strode in, his expression grim.

"He's
deteriorating."

"What do you
mean?"

"I mean he's
dehydrated and starving, commander. He's been lying on that table
for five days now, with no food or water. A few minutes ago he
slipped into a coma."

"Can we feed
him intravenously?"

"We don't know
if that's safe."

She walked
over to the observation window. "I thought he was the same as
us."

"In many ways,
but not all. He started going downhill quite suddenly a couple of
hours ago, so I analysed his body chemistry. It's not the same as
ours, but the difference is subtle. What really disturbs me is that
I found triphasel virene in his system. Jonar confirmed it."

"What's
that?"

He hesitated,
and then came to stand beside her. "You're not going to believe
this, but it's a derivative of the white power."

"Pardon?"

"It's one of
the elements found in the white power, exceedingly rare, and
usually a liquid."

She stared at
him. "How the hell did it get in him?"

"I don't know.
The only way I can think of, although I hate to say it, is that he
ate a creator, or part of one. Drank his blood perhaps?"

Nikira
swallowed hard. "Do we know that this triphasel stuff is found in
creators?"

"Not exactly.
We can only assume, since they use and live off the white power,
that they do."

She shuddered,
rubbing her arms as a chill washed over her. "That's horrible."

"I know.
Should we let him die?"

"No. We're
close to base, and we've brought him this far. Let's leave it up to
the leaders."

"So what do we
do?"

"We know he
drinks water. Would it help if we gave him intravenous fluid?"

He shrugged.
"A little, but it wouldn't do much good for long. If the leaders
want to keep him alive to examine, we'll have to find something
that will sustain him."

"Those people
who were with him might know." Nikira rubbed her brow. "They must
have seen him eat, and he couldn't live on the blood of creators.
There aren't enough of them, and they can't be that easy to kill.
Send a lingtech down to ask them."

Enyo nodded
and went to relay the message while Nikira gazed at the dra'voren
with a mixture of loathing and sadness.

Enyo returned
to her side. "I've made another interesting discovery."

"Is there no
end to them?"

"Apparently
not."

"What's this
one?"

He nodded at
the dra'voren. "He's generating some sort of field."

"What
sort?"

"I don't know.
Like nothing I've ever seen before. Completely inert and harmless,
but it encompasses several metres all around him."

"Radiation?"

"No, more like
a weird brain wave field, hard to describe." He shook his head.
"Telepathy perhaps, or telekinesis."

"He said he
could hurt us with his mind, but I thought that only worked in
short bursts."

"Well, since
they're both only theoretical, we have no idea."

The
communication screen beeped, and Enyo answered it, returning a
minute later. "Apparently he eats ordinary food, and something they
call god food."

"Creators'
blood?"

"Probably.
They're also pretty upset that we haven't been feeding him."

"Set up a
drip."

Jonar was
summoned to attach the new drip to the unconscious dra'voren while
Enyo monitored the bio scanner. As the medtech left the shredder
room, Enyo swung around with a frown.

"Take it
off."

Jonar's brows
shot up. "It's only -"

"Take it off
now. It's having an adverse effect, he's going down faster."

Jonar removed
the drip, and Nikira frowned at Enyo. "If that didn't work, how the
hell are we going to feed him?"

"The old
fashioned way?"

"Yeah, right.
Who's going to volunteer to get close enough to him to feed
him?"

Enyo shrugged.
"He's unconscious."

"What if he
wakes up while someone's in there with him? He'll have to be
released from the table, otherwise he'll choke."

"I'm sure not
doing it."

"What about
one of his slaves?" Jonar suggested. "They're not afraid of
him."

Enyo nodded.
"Good idea."

Nikira stood
irresolute for a moment, then grimaced. "We don't seem to have a
choice. I'm not endangering one of my crewmen, and perhaps he won't
harm his own slave. Bring the girl and fetch some soup."

The soup
arrived first, and the plastic bowl stood steaming incongruously on
a console until a lingtech arrived with the wide-eyed girl. As soon
as she entered the containment room, she spotted the dra'voren on
the other side of the glass and jerked free of her guide to run
across the room and press herself to the window.

"Bane!" She
swung around, her brows knotted. "What have you done to him?"

Nikira gaped
at her. "You can speak our language?"

"No! He's
doing it. Everyone can understand each other in his presence. He's
a god. Why is he sick? Why is he tied to a table? Let him go!" She
flew at Nikira, her fists raised, and Enyo grabbed her before she
reached her target. "Let me go! You're hurting him! He's a god! You
can't do this to him!"

"Calm down,
Ethra," Nikira said. "We're going to let him go, and we need you to
feed him."

"Why? Are you
afraid of him?"

"Yes."

"You're a
fool! He's good!"

"All right,
calm down. We want you to look after him. Will you do that?" Nikira
held out the bowl of soup.

Ethra took it
and sniffed it, pulling a face. "Foul slops! I wouldn't feed this
to pigs! Sarrin will cook for him."

Nikira frowned
at the contents of the bowl, a semi clear broth with a pleasant
meaty smell. "This will have to do for now."

Ethra glared
at her. "What you're doing is wrong!"

"Okay." Nikira
agreed, refusing to be drawn into a debate with the brainwashed
child, but filled with pity for her misguided loyalty to the
monster in the shredder room. Instead, she ignored Ethra's
fierce-eyed challenge and signalled to the enforcers by the door.
It slid open, and Ethra ran inside. She put the bowl down on the
floor and stood beside the dra'voren, her expression desolate and
her eyes bright with tears. For a moment she seemed loath to touch
him, then she sobbed and reached out to stroke his hair. Her mouth
twisted, and she cupped his face, caressed his cheeks and called
his name.

"Let him go!"
she bellowed.

Nikira winced,
then motioned to the contechs. Two went into the chamber and undid
the clamps on the dra'voren's limbs, then left. Nikira glanced at
the bio scanner to ensure that he was deeply unconscious before she
entered the shredder chamber.

Ethra looked
up, tears running down her cheeks. "He's cold!"

"We'll make it
warm in here."

"Why did you
do this to him?"

"He's
dangerous."

"No he's not!"
Ethra leant over the dra'voren and laid her cheek against his.
"Bane, please wake up."

"Don't try to
wake him up, just feed him."

"How can I
when he's on a table? He must be able to sit up."

Nikira nodded
and beckoned to the contechs who hovered outside the door. They
dragged the dra'voren off the table and propped him up against the
wall, their faces stiff with revulsion and fear. Fortunately, the
cloth that covered his hips stayed in place, but Nikira decided
that some sort of clothing was in order if the girl was going to
stay with him. The contechs turned the scanner equipment so it
would monitor his vitals, then left to find something for him to
wear.

Ethra knelt
beside him and brushed back the wings of glossy hair that fell over
his face, tears running down her cheeks. Nikira handed her the bowl
of soup, and the girl settled herself close to him. She tried to
tuck his hair behind his ears, but it kept sliding forward again,
as slippery as polished silk. Ethra lifted his head with tenderness
that made Nikira shudder, supported it with a hand on his cheek
when it would have lolled sideways, and scooped up a spoonful of
soup, holding it to his lips. It took her several moments to work
the spoon into his mouth, and most of the soup dribbled down his
chin.

Ethra glared
at Nikira. "How could you do this to him? You should be bowing down
at his feet, begging for his mercy. Bring me a cloth; I will not
affront his dignity by covering him with soup."

Nikira brought
the cloth herself, and Ethra snatched it from her to wipe the
dra'voren's chin and chest. She scooped up another spoonful of soup
and pressed the fingers of the hand that supported his head against
the side of his jaw, unlocking it. His mouth opened, allowing her
to steer the spoon inside. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed
in reflex. Nikira squatted down a short distance away.

"Ethra, what's
god food?"

The girl
shrugged, reloading the spoon. "I don't know. He summons it from
the air in a golden cup."

Nikira sagged
with relief, glad that the horrible vision of him drinking the
blood of helpless creators that she had been carrying around was
wrong, and could be discarded. "How long were you with him?"

"I'm with him
still, but the time is hard to know, since we were in the God
Realm, where there's no night or day. It must be a few weeks
now."

"Has he hurt
you?"

"No!" She shot
Nikira a furious glance and fed the dra'voren another spoonful of
soup. "He saved me, many times."

"From
what?"

"Dark beasts.
They would have killed us all, but Bane saved us." She wiped away a
tear with the back of her hand.

"I see."

"No, you
don't. If you did, you wouldn't have done this to him. You've taken
off the stone that protected his arm. He must have been in terrible
pain." Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks, and her expression was
forlorn. "How can you be so cruel to someone as beautiful and
gentle as him?"

"How was he
injured?"

Ethra scooped
up another spoonful of soup and held it to the dra'voren's lips as
she recounted an amazing tale. Nikira listened with rapt
fascination and deep scepticism, wondering how the dra'voren had
implanted such a detailed story in the girl's mind, and what had
really happened. Ethra was certainly convinced of its veracity, and
Nikira pitied her. By the time she finished her story, half the
bowl of soup had found its way into the dra'voren's stomach. She
wiped a dribble of soup from his lips and shot Nikira a glare.

"You should
give his clothes back. It's an affront to his dignity."

"We'll give
him something to wear."

Nikira rose
and left the chamber, stopping beside Enyo at the observation
window to watch the girl continue to feed the dra'voren.

"Such
devotion," he murmured.

"Pathetic,
isn't it? It's got to be that field he's generating. It's having
some sort of mind altering effect on those near him, which is why
we can understand her when she's with him."

"Then we're
also in danger from it. Perhaps that's why he's made no attempt
escape. He's waiting for us to become like her, his puppets."

She shot him
an uneasy look. "Have you noticed any effects? Any sudden urges to
worship him?"

"No."

"Find a way to
block it."

His brows
rose. "Block a psychic field? We can barely detect it. I don't
think there's a way to block it."

"Then make
sure the crew is rotated regularly, and don't spend more than eight
hours at a time in here. If you notice any strange behaviour,
report it to me at once. I don't want any of my men ending up like
her."

Nikira turned
to gaze at the dra'voren again. Ethra had finished feeding him and
was curled up beside him, her head on his chest, her arms around
him. The contech Nikira had despatched for clothes brought a pair
of standard issue grey trousers, and she took them from him.
Re-entering the chamber, she approached the girl, who glowered at
her like a tigress protecting her cub.

Nikira said,
"Please leave the room for a little while, so we can dress him. You
can come back afterwards, I promise."

Ethra obeyed
with obvious reluctance, and Nikira averted her eyes while two
contechs put the trousers on the dra'voren. When he was dressed,
the girl took up her vigil beside him again.

Nikira left to
make another report, and then went to her cabin for some sleep. For
a while she lay awake, staring up at the dappled plastic ceiling as
she thought about the girl and her fearless devotion to the
dra'voren. What if they were wrong? What if he truly was
benevolent? She frowned and berated herself, wondering if the
dra'voren was influencing her as he had done to the people who had
been with him. Still pondering, she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke,
a message on her vidscreen informed her that the ship was
approaching base, and would dock within the hour. She went to the
bridge and ordered a message sent, informing the leaders of their
prize and requesting instructions. The reply came shortly before
the ship docked. Retribution was to be quarantined, and a party of
high-ranking scientists and technicians would be coming aboard to
examine their data and the captive.

Nikira met the
group of grey-haired intellectuals clad in white protective suits
in the boarding tube. They greeted her with curt nods and hard
eyes. They seemed angry, and she wondered why. She took them to the
containment room, where Enyo and his crew waited to show the
prominent scientists their data. While they pored over the
recordings, Nikira went to stand by the observation window and gaze
at the dra'voren whose fate would soon be out of her hands.