Slave Empire - Prophecy (24 page)

"It used the
Net to make a complete transfer?"

"Correct."

Tarke frowned
at the winking crystals before him. "Are you sure?"

"I am sure
that is what the Atlantean space net’s information said, yes."

"You know the
legend of the Golden Child, don't you?"

"Just as you
do."

"Refresh my
memory." Tarke laced his fingers and settled back.

"Translated
into simple language, the legend says that at a certain time, the
Atlanteans must save a golden girl child from a dying planet. She
will, apparently, be able to avert a terrible catastrophe that will
otherwise befall the Empire, and save it. This is not only an
Atlantean legend, however, the Draycons have it too, but in their
version, they must kill the Golden Child in order to rule the
Atlantean Empire."

"But there's
no mention of this strange ship in either of them?"

"No."

"So, the
Draycons will soon find out she's still alive, and Atlan's
protection is pretty shoddy," Tarke mused. "If Atlan falls, I'll be
next on Drevina's extermination list. Perhaps it would be
worthwhile to take out some insurance. What would happen if Drevina
and her brother were to die suddenly?"

"They have no
true heirs. By Drayconar tradition, she must bear her brother's
twins. Drevina has a child by another male, but he's not considered
a true heir. Draycon would be plunged into chaos, even civil
war."

Tarke rubbed
his chin, his eyes narrowed. "That might be a good thing." He
sighed. "I want the Drayconar battle cruiser Norron destroyed. Send
out the order."

"This will
focus Atlan's attention even more on you."

He shrugged.
"So be it."

"You have no
idea what monster might emerge at the head of the Drayconar Empire.
You might make it worse. And if the Draycons find out who killed
their Empress, there would be reprisals."

"Then there
must be no survivors. I have a feeling that by the time the
Draycons sort themselves out and kill off all but one potential
leader, whatever catastrophe is coming to Atlan will have run its
course. It will prevent the Draycons from interfering any further
in the prophecy. I have no love for Atlanteans, but at least they
keep the Draycons quiet. Send the order."

Rayne sat back
and rubbed her temples, switching off the data screen with a flick
of her thoughts. Weariness tugged at her eyelids, but she forced
herself to stretch and rise to wander over and gaze out at the soft
rain that soaked the land outside. Since her return to Atlan three
months ago, a great many things had happened. The beacon in her
brain had been deactivated at her insistence, much to Rawn's
delight. Tallyn had argued against it, but her status now allowed
her to make certain demands, which the Atlanteans were obliged to
fulfil in order to keep her good will. She had been questioned
about her time with the Shrike, and had answered all the questions
honestly.

They did not
ask for his true name, and she did not offer it, so it remained her
secret. Drevina's murderous plot would have earned her a severe
reprimand from the Atlantean Council, and perhaps even a token
visit by a warship, had she lived long enough. The debris of her
ship, Norron, had been discovered in an asteroid belt not far from
Drevga B, a Brentar mining colony. The Draycons had threatened the
peaceful Brentar with retribution, then Atlan, before turning on
each other. A bloody civil war now raged on Amranon and Periabel,
the two principal Drayconar planets.

Soon after her
return, she and Rawn had been taught to use their cyber implants,
gaining easy access to all the Atlantean machines and data links.
Whereas before they had to view the data via a screen, or listen to
it, now they used a sensor pad and allowed the information to
stream directly into their minds, accompanied by images and
sensations, where necessary. They had also been allocated their own
dwelling, and Rawn had started dating a low cast Atlantean girl.
Once again, Rayne had forgone the social whirl to bury herself in
research, primarily on the Shrike's empire, uncovering many
unpleasant facts.

Most
disturbing was the crime that had earned him a death sentence from
the Atlanteans, the extermination of his race, the Antians, fifty
years ago. The report was brief and sketchy, but said that a
planetary distress signal had been received from the Antian home
world, Elliadaren. By the time an Atlantean ship had reached it,
the world was lifeless, rapidly descending into a nuclear winter.
The only ship in orbit had been an outlaw craft called Night Hawk.
Its pilot, when challenged, had identified himself as the Shrike,
claimed responsibility for the destruction of Antian civilisation,
and fled.

Rayne thought
the situation demanded further investigation, but none had been
attempted. The Atlanteans had accepted the confession and passed a
sentence of death on the unknown individual who called himself the
Shrike. Why had Tarke destroyed the Antians, and how? To do that to
an entire civilisation should have been impossible, even with an
armada of warships. It made no sense, and she resolved to find out
more through other channels, if possible.

The rest of
her research had confirmed his story, a list of bloody deeds
performed in the building of a giant empire of ships and manpower,
untold wealth and immense political might. The Shrike was certainly
a force to be reckoned with, but the file lacked any sort of
personal details other than an estimate of his age, a list of
possible species and a description of his usual garb. It did
contain a three-dimensional space map of his territory, which
spanned a fair stretch of space, mostly populated with useless,
barren planets.

In another
file, she found a list of all his crimes since he had exterminated
his race, any of which would have earned him a death sentence. He
was blamed for seventy-four murders, all of which, oddly, were
fellow slavers and outlaws who were also sentenced to death. In
addition, he was supposed to be responsible for two massacres on
slaver space stations, apparently instigated by him. She continued
to dig, but only found a file that listed all his known aliases,
one of which was the one the Rentarian had used, Grey Shrike. The
file also listed his ships, whose number and strength amazed her,
even though the file was several years out of date.

Rayne then
requested data on the Antians, curious about why he had destroyed
them. It took several hours for the information to be located and
transferred from old archives, but when it reached her, she found
it surprising. The Antians had been the eldest of what were known
as the Younger Races, people who had developed after the Elder
Races had left or died out. Elliadaren had been similar to Earth in
many ways, except the climate was better, lacking hurricanes,
quakes, tidal waves and volcanoes.

The weather
had been gentle and predictable; the seasons followed a set pattern
that did not deviate by more than a centimetre of rain. The Antians
had more land than sea, their polar caps were small and their sun
was an old, stable yellow dwarf, like Sol. One could argue that
their system was old and decaying, but several million years had
still been ahead of them. The Antians had not expanded into space,
but had chosen to control their numbers and remain on their home
world.

They had also
forgone the usual armada of warships most advanced people kept for
defence and aggression, although their home world was equipped with
extensive defences that made their destruction at the hands of a
single man in a small armed cargo ship even harder to believe. She
searched in vain for a picture of an Antian, and the lack of one
surprised her. At the end of the file, a single word blinked in red
capitals. Extinct.

Rayne gazed at
the rain-soaked garden, where plants bowed under collected water,
letting it stream off onto the ground. Elliadaren had been a more
beautiful world than Earth, populated by gentle people. Why had
Tarke destroyed them? His parents, surely, had been amongst them,
perhaps brothers and sisters. It made no sense. She shook her head,
rubbing the spot above her left ear, which still ached at times
like these, when she had spent too long linked to the data net.

With a sigh,
she headed for the kitchen to make something to eat, then swung
around at a soft click behind her. She reached for the laser she
carried on her belt now, then gaped at the space line screen that
rose from its slot. Usually a tone announced an incoming call, and
its silent deployment gave her goose-bumps. When the wafer-thin
crystal had risen to the end of its glass wand, a series of words
appeared on it in blue script. Rayne read them with a mixture of
amazement and growing dread.

'Golden Child.
The time has come. Meet me at the Cerebilus Moons, alone. Your
Guide’.

After several
minutes of shocked inaction, her eyes riveted to the writing, her
heart hammering, she tottered to a chair and sank into it. Her
hands shook as she activated the web line screen used for local
calls, dialling Tallyn at the space port. She sent a message to
him, then Rawn, demanding they come immediately, then broke the
connection, not wishing to explain anything on the web line.

By the time
they hurried in a few minutes later, she had poured herself a
strong drink and sipped it as she gazed at the screen. Tallyn,
first to arrive by about three seconds, put away his laser and
scowled at her.

"Were you just
testing us? Because if so, I -"

"Read the
space line."

He and Rawn
read it, then turned to her.

"When did this
come through?" Tallyn demanded.

"About a
minute before I sent you the message."

"It could be a
hoax, a trap. The Draycons -"

"Are embroiled
in a civil war," she interrupted again. "Besides, it wasn't an
ordinary message. The space line didn't give a tone, it just
deployed. It was kind of spooky."

Tallyn glanced
at the screen again. "It could be malfunctioning."

"I have a
feeling this is genuine. I have to do as it says, anyway, don't I?
Just in case it is. We were expecting some sort of contact. Well,
there it is."

Rawn frowned,
looking anxious. "You can't go to the Cerebilus Moons alone. It's
too dangerous, and someone has to fly the ship. You have to have a
crew, people to guard you."

"The message
says alone. If I'm not, I don't think there will be a ship there to
meet me."

"She's right,"
Tallyn said. "But even if we gave you a scout ship, you don't know
how to fly it."

"You can
programme it, can't you? Put in the co-ordinates for the Moons, and
for the return trip, then all I have to do is activate the Net,
right?"

"In theory."
Tallyn sat in a chair opposite, studying her. "You're taking all
this very calmly. How much have you had to drink?"

She giggled.
"I'm not drunk. Believe me, I'm terrified. I almost fainted when I
first read that, but I've had time to calm down now. It's kind of
exciting, don't you think?"

Rawn sat
beside her, placing an arm around her shoulders. "I'll come with
you. I'm your guardian, right?"

Tallyn shook
his head. "We made that assumption when we took you from Earth, but
there's no mention of a guardian in the prophecy, and the
instructions say she must go alone.

"It could be
dangerous," Rawn protested. "Like you said, it could be a trap.
Maybe it's not the Draycons. We don't know who else might want to
stop her fulfilling the prophecy."

Rayne sighed
and put down her glass. "I have to do as it says. Just show me how
to operate the scout ship. If it's trap, I can simply reactivate
the Net, and it will bring me straight back to Atlan, right?"

"Yes, but
being in the Net doesn't guarantee your safety," Tallyn said. "And
if it's a trap, you might not have time. I would suggest we shadow
you in Vengeance."

"No. It might
detect you, especially if its technology is as advanced as it
appears to be."

Tallyn shook
his head. "There's only one way to settle this. I'll call the
council and let them decide."

Rayne nodded,
and he wandered over to the window to gaze out while he contacted
Vargon on his implant's net line. When he turned to her a few
minutes later, he looked grim.

"The council
agrees. You must follow the instructions. I'll arrange for a scout
ship to be made available, and show you how to operate its basic
functions in a simulator."

Rayne slipped
her hand into Rawn's, trying to reassure him with a brittle smile.
He looked unhappy, but rose and followed when Tallyn led them out
to his gravcar.

Chapter Fourteen

Over the next
four hours, Tallyn put Rayne through several simulated flights,
which she managed fairly well until he sprang an emergency on her,
then she panicked and failed miserably. He coached her until she
learnt to control her panic a little better, encouraging her with
lavish praise. He was a good teacher, motivating her when she
wanted to give up, until her skills improved sufficiently to
satisfy him. When at last he allowed her to leave the simulator,
she was tired and shaky.

The worst part
was linking her cyber implant with the ship's neural net and being
bombarded with masses of information whilst in the grey no-place of
the net. The scout ship normally had a crew of two, so they could
fly it in shifts, but she would have no such luxury. Tallyn wanted
her to sleep before she left, but a sense of urgency consumed her,
and she only ate a hurried meal before insisting on going to the
spaceport. Tallyn seemed to admire her resolve, but she was certain
that if she delayed she would lose her nerve and not go at all.