Rebel Ice (35 page)

"Of ours, Kangal. You sired her on me. Why did you have her killed as soon as I left to join the rebellion? I did everything you asked of me."

"I do as I please. You can't do anything to me." The Kangal laughed. "You're only a woman."

"Yes."

Orjakis saw her eyes and took an involuntary step back. "There was a mistake. I am in the mood to be merciful, given your service to me. You can have a place in the palace."

"No. There is only one place for me now, Kangal." Sogayi threw her blade into his right arm. "At your side."

She ran toward him as fast as she could. She didn't stop when he took out a pistol with his only good hand and fired at her. She didn't stop when the pulses struck her body, or when he ran down the dock. She didn't stop when he ordered her to, and then begged her to. With the last of the life in her body, Sogayi slammed into Janzil Ches Orjakis and jumped with him into the swirling vortex beneath the docks. The kvinka swallowed them.

Teulon heard the sounds of pleasure and greed as the slaves brought forward the platters of sumptuous food. He could not remember his last meal, but it had been the same thin soup of native meat and synthetic compounds that he and the rest of the Iisleg had subsisted on for many months now.

The drone musicians began to play low, elegant Toskald music. Utensils clinked; wine gurgled into fluted servers. A single, staccato laugh rang out and just as quickly broke off. Feminine voices passed around him and drifted out of the courtyard. The scent of wine became heavy.

"Now that the ladies have gone for their cake," Gohliya's voice, somewhat blurry now, said, "let us have our small entertainment."

The man chuckled and laughed, until a jlorra snarled.

Teulon opened his eyes.

The sight of so many helpless women astride the deadliest creatures on Akkabarr made the Toskald men go still with shock. The offworlders, oblivious to the danger, applauded. Someone made a spluttering sound as he choked on his wine.

When the women and the beasts filled the center of the courtyard, a drunken Toskald voice called out, "You see, ensleg? Skjonn has entertainments like no other city."

That seemed to be a signal to the other Toskald men, who produced somewhat convincing laughter. Teulon saw Gohliya nodding to the musicians, who began to play the music to which the prostitutes would dance.

The women dismounted and shed their outer robes. Beneath them were scanty, stylized fur bands that barely covered their breasts and loins. Their faces, painted with delicate cosmetics, were more lovely than those of the Toskald women who had left the banquet.

"General!" a laughing voice called out. "Alert the city guard, the rebels have at last invaded Skjonn!"

More, genuine laughter filled the courtyard.

Teulon watched the women as they stroked the jlorra with their hands, making a small dance of the petting, caressing each beast as if it were a man. The guests were too busy joking and drinking and ogling the prostitutes to notice that as they danced, the women were unfastening the tethers and muzzle straps on the cats.

Just as the women fanned out around the cats, there was movement above them on the Kangal's balcony.

"Janzil Ches Orjakis, the Kangal of Skjonn," a drone announced.

Teulon saw the men look up to watch the entrance of the ruler. The women dancing turned in unison to face the balcony, as well, but did not stop their dance. They moved out, leaving their beasts sitting in the center of the courtyard, and wove their way around the banquet tables. They teased the courtiers, trying to draw their eyes away from Orjakis, but the courtiers were too well trained, and the dancers had to be content to stand behind the men and rub their hands over their bodies. Once they had teased the guests, the women moved on to undulate in front of the guards.

Orjakis, cloaked from head to toe in a hooded scarlet robe, moved into view on the balcony in slow, princely fashion.

Teulon saw one of the women pull the rifle from a guard's shoulder. She turned slightly, and her face and hair began to melt from her head, turning into the same blob that had made the vral faceless. The same thing was happening to the other dancers, who were also playfully disarming the guards.

The guards who could not look away from the Kangal.

"Now," one of the women shouted.

The prostitutes, armed with the pulse rifles they had taken from the guards, stepped back and trained the rifles on the Toskald.

"Over there. In the center," one of the dancers ordered. When one of the guards lunged at her, she shot him in the leg.

The band around Teulon's neck disappeared. "When I release these, can you jump down?" Resa's voice asked from behind him. "Yes."

"Be ready." She cut through all the bands. "Now." Teulon jumped and landed on the polished tile. Two guards rushed at him, but Bsak was there and knocked them both to the ground in one leap. The other jlorra had worked their way through the assembly and were menacing the guests.

Resa handed Teulon a rifle. "I am happy to see you still alive, Raktar."

He pulled her into the circle of one arm and held her at his side as he assessed the situation. The cats would keep the guards at bay, but not for long. "We will leave." Several Toskald men shrieked in horror, and Teulon looked up in time to see one of the presentation

drones push the Kangal over the balcony. He fell screaming to land with a liquid thud on the courtyard

floor. General Gohliya fought his way over to the body of the Kangal and pulled him over onto his back. It was not Orjakis in the Kangal's robes, but a slave who bore only a superficial resemblance. He looked up, meeting Teulon's gaze. "They are only slave women," he shouted to the guards. "Use your swords!"

The first soldier who charged a dancer, his sword ready, fell back and collapsed, the front of his uniform burned. A jlorra pounced on top of him and gnawed with enthusiasm at his head.

No one moved after that. "Go." Resa slipped out of Teulon's hold as she gestured to the entrance from which she and the women had entered. "Jarn is waiting outside for you."

"You will follow me." She smiled up at him. "Very soon." Teulon strode to the entrance. Outside the courtyard, Jarn stood armed and waiting. She wore, not the

disguise of a prostitute, but that of a female merchant. "Raktar." She handed him the cloak and his seven-bladed sword. "Have you had your fill of court?" "Yes." He covered himself and his blade. "Do you have a ship ready?" "At the abandoned docks. We must—" Jarn pivoted away from him and threw the blade in her hand.

Something fell to the ground behind Teulon, and he turned to see General Gohliya, a disrupter pistol sagging in his limp hand. The hilt of Jarn's dagger protruded from his right eye socket. The healer went over, bent down, and checked the general's neck with her fingers before wrapping her hand around her blade and tugging it out of his head. She looked up at Teulon.

"I was wrong." She touched the blood on the blade, coating her fingers with it. "We are the same." Hand trembling, she smeared the blood over her face. "Jarn." Teulon barely caught her before she hit the ground. Her head lolled on his arms.

Then Resa was there, staring in horror at the limp body of her friend. The other vral gathered around them. "Teulon, is she dead?" "No." Teulon lifted Jarn and held her cradled in his arms. "She killed for me."

Reever stepped out of the shadows. "They are here, although I do not know from where they came." The light dimmed all around them. Teulon looked up into the darkened sky above the city dome, where innumerable ships hovered. Ships of every design from League to Toskald to Hsktskt.

Ships that bore the scars of crash landings, and rebuilding. Ships that bore the symbols of every iiskar on Akkabarr.

Daneeb frowned. "How?" "I am the ClanSon of a shipbuilder. I was also a pilot," Teulon said, staring up at them. "The Iisleg have been collecting derelicts for centuries. All they needed was time, someone to show them how to build the parts back into ships, and someone to teach them to fly."

Reever looked up at the rebel fleet. "That is why they made you Raktar." "Yes." Teulon looked down at Jarn's face. "I gave them ships, and taught them to fly them. So they could have their war."

Chapter Twenty-one

The day after the rebel fleet conquered the skim cities of Akkabarr, Hsktskt raiders formed a new and much larger blockade. The League, unable to leave orbit without risking an engagement they could not win, and finding no sanctuary in the rebel-held skim cities, appealed to Captain Xonea Torin of the
Sunlace
to intervene as a neutral third party.

"Your people are experienced negotiators," League General Shropana said over his emergency relay to Xonea. "We have every confidence in you."

Xonea watched the sweat bead on the man's upper lip for a few moments. "The Hsktskt are not a threat any longer, General. The rebels have the skim cities and the crystals from the Toskald vaults on the planet. They are the ones with whom you must negotiate."

"Their leader is said to be one of your kind," Shropana said. "He will listen to you."

"Will he?"

"You may use my command ship for your talks if you like."

Xonea sat back. "I will not be drawn into another League deception, and I have no desire to speak for your actions here at Akkabarr. No, General, if you wish to negotiate, you will come here, to my ship, and speak to the rebel leader personally."

Xonea told him before terminating the relay. He looked across the console at Duncan Reever. "That much is done. Were you successful with the Hsktskt?"

"I contacted them and asked for a representative to be sent for the negotiations," Reever told him. "They are sending TssVar."

Xonea rubbed his face. "Has there been any signal from Skjonn?"

"No. He will come at the time he said. He has no reason to avoid it." Reever looked through the viewport at the white sphere that was Akkabarr. "You are not to interfere. No one is. Make that known."

"Duncan—"

Reever rose and left the room.

Xonea signaled the Senior Healer. "I want a full medical evac team in the launch bay in one hour."

Shropana was the first to arrive. He and his contingent of diplomats observed every known Jorenian courtesy in greeting Xonea Torin and his flight crew.

"We will hold this meeting in launch bay," Xonea told the League general as he escorted them there. "It is the only place on my ship large enough to accommodate all three parties."

"So you were able to convince the lizards to send someone? That is no small feat." Shropana had to trot to keep up with the Jorenian's long strides. "I suppose if anyone wishes to leave, launches will be provided?"

Xonea's expression remained blank. "I doubt anyone will wish to leave."

OverLord TssVar arrived with a detachment of heavily armed Hsktskt centurons. The eight-feet-tall, six-limbed reptilian commander said nothing to the Jorenians, and remained silent as he was escorted to the launch bay, where he and his men took up positions opposite the League contingent. His saucer-sized yellow eyes watched everyone and everything.

Reever escorted Raktar Teulon and his three vral guards to the launch bay. The rebel leader had kept his furs and borrowed only a black cloak, which he wore with the hood drawn over his face.

Outside the launch bay, Reever paused and looked up at Teulon. "This would be the last opportunity you have to change your mind, Raktar."

"I will not." He gestured at the door panel, which Reever silently opened.

Jarn and Resa stayed on either side of Teulon, while Daneeb followed behind them. The women wore their vral masks, and the sight of their faceless heads seemed to startle the League men. TssVar and the Hsktskt merely watched in silence as Teulon walked up to exchange greetings with Captain Torin.

"Linguist Reever has not been very forthcoming about you," Xonea said after they had exchanged greetings. "All I know is that you are Jorenian. Of what House, Raktar?"

Shropana strode forward to interrupt. "You Jorenians can conduct your family reunion another time. There are four thousand ships out there, poised to fire on each other. I want safe passage out of this system for my fleet. What will it cost me?"

Shropana's eyes widened, and he became a statue. "You're dead. They told me you threw yourself to the wind."

"The wind threw me back." Teulon looked at the Hsktskt OverLord. "I am Teulon Jado, ClanLeader of HouseClan Jado, taken prisoner by the League during the Jado Massacre, sold as a slave to the Toskald, and left to rot on this world."

"You have an interesting manner in which you rot, General," TssVar said.

No one moved as Teulon removed his cloak and handed it to one of the vral.

"This man is a slave and a liar," Shropana said. "If he intends to blame us—"

Teulon did not draw his seven-bladed sword. He removed a handful of transparent crystals, the surfaces of which were etched. "The treasure of Akkabarr." He handed them to Xonea. "There are forty thousand more down on the planet." To the Hsktskt, he said, "These are crystals permanently etched with the command codes needed to issue orders to the fleets, armies, and military forces of ten thousand systems within this galaxy. These command codes use corresponding crystals in the command database on each vessel to override any other commands issued by anyone or anything. The matching crystals are set in a matrix, invented by the Toskald, that cannot be removed from the databases or destroyed unless the ship is. I possess all of the override codes to these crystals."

"You cannot use them," Shropana said. "You do not have the means—"

"The command transponders in each of the skim cities are now manned by my men and women," Teulon said. "I have but to issue the order, and the crystals will be activated." He watched Shropana draw a small weapon from his tunic. "Killing me will make no difference. The order will be issued if I do not return to Skjonn in one hour."

"What is the order, Raktar?" TssVar walked forward. "Do you intend to use these forces to attack the League, or the Hsktskt? We are not responsible for the Jado Massacre."