The Caverns of Mare Cetus (63 page)

   "Patience, bro," said the other who had a short goatee, piercing green eyes, and was well built too. "Until Gray tells us to go in."

   "Just what is a Mendrax?" asked the taller one.

   "No idea," said the other. "It's got to be something though, or they wouldn't have rushed us to this shit hole with four hours notice. I've never seen the top brass go so crazy like that before. You'd think there was some kind of monster on this planet or…"

   There was a burst of gunfire on the left side of the ship. Two soldiers had been hit in their legs and had gone down—shot by their own troops. The soldiers who had just fired began calling for medical assistance. "We have two down! Don't know where the sniper is! Get us medical now!" The soldiers rushed over to the two who were down—both women again as Renata could tell by the length of their hair. As the men began tending to them as if they weren't the ones who shot them, more soldiers rushed to their aid.

   "I will admit this is some fucking nightmare from hell you've dreamt up," said Richelle, glancing around at the mass confusion continuing to afflict the Novian troops.

   "You do have a way with words, Richelle," said Devon.

   "Say, I think I need to know this. Can we die if we don't get our heads blown off?"

   "Everything dies," said Devon. "No one can change that."

   "Hunter said you broke your neck and lost a boatload of blood, and it didn't even faze you. Will I be like that?"

   "You already are. Just look at your teeth."

   Richelle hurried over to a fallen soldier and pried a silver handgun from his fingers. As she walked back toward Devon, she held the gun in front of her, viewing her teeth in the reflection on its stock. "God, they never looked this good before. When did this happen?" She began pointing the gun at some troops on their left.

   "Put the gun down," said Devon. "Now!"

   Richelle frowned at Devon, then set the pistol on the ground.

   "Do you have a range?" asked Renata. "Obviously you're affecting things even inside the MAC or they'd have killed us by now."

   "Gray was right," said Devon. "I could have tweaked Yosef through the com. It wasn't smart for him to show his face. But then again, you'll soon realize the amount of energy—being me— requires. I'll rarely be at 100 percent. Besides, I like challenges. Some would say I'm missing a few bricks." She chuckled. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

   Renata gave her a dubious shake of her head. "I have to know this." There was nervousness in her voice. "Did you make those men shoot those women?"

   "Do you think I would do that? Do you think I like to cause pain?"

   "I don't know. In some ways you seem to be enjoying this."

   Devon sighed, deeply. "Now where have I heard that before?"

   They had reached the bottom of one of the large steppedentryways to the MAC, its massive portside fuselage section now above them. Renata glanced behind them. Not one soldier was coming after them, not even the women. "If you can't control the women, how are you doing this?"

   "Listen, Rene," said Devon. "I don't control anyone. I am an absence of reality. And women empathize. It's a deadly combination."

   Renata nodded but still wasn't sure what Devon meant.

   Devon looked up the steps. A guard at the top fell forward and down the steps, landing at the bottom with a groan. Devon stepped over him and started up the steps, Renata and Richelle right behind her, Renata eyeing him carefully.

   As they entered the ship, two of three crewmembers in the wide pale yellow corridor dropped to the floor. The remaining crewmember, a woman with silky black hair and an olive complexion, glanced between the women and the downed crewmembers, incredulity in her eyes.

   "Where is Captain Gray?" asked Devon.

   The woman pointed down the corridor. "Use the P-1 elevator. Go up two levels to the Command Center floor. Do you want me to take you there?" She glanced at the men again. "They'll be okay, won't they?"

   Devon nodded. "Of course they will. They're just asleep."

   The woman nodded, then crouched beside the men.

   Devon began walking toward the P-1 elevator, Renata and Richelle anxiously following.

   "Are they just asleep?" asked Renata.

   "In a way," said Devon.

   "They will be okay, won't they?"

   "I would never lie to her."

   After they had gone a distance toward the elevator, two soldiers burst out of a door in front of them. Renata and Richelle shrieked and jumped back. As the soldiers raised their pistols, they immediately looked like they were having a hard time breathing. The men's eyes wide with fear, they dropped their guns and stumbled toward the opposite wall, falling against it, then collapsed to the floor.

   Devon smiled guiltily at Renata. "Sorry. I know I shouldn't do things this way, but you have to know the thrill I get sometimes."

   "Keep your thrills to yourself," said Renata, her hand on her chest as she tried to catch her breath. "Don't ever let that happen again. Got it?"

   "Those two—now they're dead, right?" asked Richelle. She gingerly stepped past their bodies.

   Devon huffed. "You know, I could pick up one of their guns and shoot them both in the head. Would that qualify?"

   Renata began shaking her head. "No, Devon. Don't do that. Please don't do that."

   "Can't you kill?" asked Richelle, a belligerence in her voice.

   "Of course I can," said Devon.

   "Well, with the way they came at us, they certainly weren't bringing us a red carpet. I would have killed them."

   "I know you would," said Devon.

   "I don't know about you two, but I'm hungry," said Renata, holding her stomach. "I need to eat."

   After just a moment, the women were in front of the P-1 elevator. They entered the cylindrical, featureless elevator and in just a few seconds were at the Command Level of the ship.

   As the doors opened, Renata and Richelle stepped back. A woman crewmember was standing in front of the door.

   "Gray?" asked Devon. "Where is she?"

   "Down there. In the Command Center." The woman pointed to her right. "The large green doors."

   The three hurried down the turquoise blue corridor. The Command Center doors opened, and they stepped inside. Gray, Marcian, and three armed elite guards—Renata could tell by the women's uniforms—were standing in the center of the huge carpeted room, an array of tables, desks, chairs, computer screens, and complex control panels and navigation equipment scattered along the pale green walls. Renata counted seven other soldiers and techs in various places around the room, appearing asleep—all men.

   "Take them!" ordered Marcian.

   The guards raised their rifles.

   "Stand down!" ordered Marcian.

   The guards glanced at him, their expressions seeming to question Marcian's sanity.

   "Hold your aim!" ordered Gray. "She's already gotten to the commander."

   Marcian walked over to one of the control monitors, sat down in a swivel chair and began staring into the screen, seeming oblivious to everything.

   The guards now had their rifles trained on Devon's face, pointblank range, looking as if they were just waiting for the command from Gray to splatter Devon's head all over the room.

   Devon briefly looked at the rifle barrels staring her in the face. She appeared undaunted. She turned to Gray. "There are no longer any communications to or from your ship. Your chief engineer—Silas. He's sabotaged your core drive. Your chief gunner. She won't let anyone fire at us, even if your weapons worked—which they don't— thanks to Silas again. I believe your robotics officer has taken all your robotics offline. None of what your techs have been pumping out of your com rooms has had any effect on me. I compensate quicker than you can throw things at me. You're using old Earth technologies that just won't work against a Mendrax. You came at me with a sledgehammer. Did the NMA warn you that strategy is rarely successful? Does the NMA realize what it's up against? Who ordered you to bring so many men?" She waved her hand toward some of the men in the room. "Did someone tell you—you could protect them? You can't—not from me. I know you're a brilliant commander, Erica, but I think some bad advice has put you in a hole. The Harpy Eagle is mine."

   Gray seemed distraught. "I understand my men—I warned Yosef about that, but how are you handling my women?"

   Renata was absolutely famished. She spotted some food on a table in a corner of the room. A tech was sitting by the table, his body slumped forward. She went to the man and looked at his face briefly. She pushed him back into his chair, then picked up two half-eaten sandwiches, stuffing them in her mouth, one ravenous bite after the next.

   "Captain Gray," said a guard who had short auburn hair and light brown eyes. "If what she says is true…"

   "Everything she said is true," said Gray, dismay in her voice.

   "Then what can we do, Captain?" asked the guard. "How can we take her into custody if she owns our ship?"

   "Who said anything about taking her into custody?" answered Gray.

   Renata looked up from the table; she had a tomato-like fruit in one hand, a drink in the other.

   "Please clarify, Captain," said a tall, dark-haired, tough-looking guard with a Grecian nose. "Are you ordering us to execute her?"

   "You heard me," said Gray.

   That comment should have sent panic through Renata, but it didn't. After what she had seen outside the MAC, she was certain Devon had everything under control. At least she hoped she did. As Renata bit into the juicy, lemony-tasting fruit, she noticed Richelle was over by Marcian, peering at him with curious amusement as she slowly waved her hand in front of his face.

   "I'm sorry, Captain, but I can't obey that order," said the third guard, a woman with buzz-cut golden-blond hair and a physique that made Renata think executions could easily be one of her specialties. "She's an unarmed woman."

   "The hell she is," said Gray. "Don't you see what she's done, what she's doing?"

   "Heck," mumbled Renata. "I don't even know what she's doing yet. How can you?"

   "She's not doing anything, Captain," said the guard. "She's of no threat to us. She's injured too. Look at the cut on her forehead."

   "No threat? She's clouding your minds…" Gray seemed exasperated. "Damn it! I ordered you to shoot her. You will carry out that order."

   "No disrespect, ma'am," said the auburn-haired guard, "but I won't do it. I won't harm this woman. ARTEC will surely bring war to Novia if we do."

   As Gray's guards lowered their weapons, she appeared completely at a loss for words. She cast her eyes downward.

   "You're alone, Erica," said Devon. "You're the last."

   "You've taken my ship from me," said Gray. "You've obliterated my crew. Frankly, you've totally disgraced my command. What more do you want? Why are you here?"

   "You came for me," said Devon. "That forced me to come for you."

   "Come for me?" Gray looked up and laughed. "You're joking, right?"

   "What you see outside—does that look like a joke?" Devon waved her hand toward some view screens, then cracked a smile that immediately faded. "I'm also here to deliver a message. I'm not leaving the Tau System. I was going to take my Sister home with me, but I've changed my mind."

   "You never said anything about that," said Renata. "When were you planning on telling me?"

   "A message? You did all this for a message?" Gray's face grew flushed. "Let me give you a message, sweetheart." She took out her sidearm from its holster and placed the barrel of the gun against Devon's cheek.

   Startled, Renata dropped her food to the floor. She looked at Devon. There wasn't a shred of emotion in Devon's face—no fear, no astonishment—nothing.

   Gray's guards raised their weapons toward Gray, but Renata could see consternation in their faces. "Captain!" exclaimed two of the guards in unison.

   "ARTEC be damned," said Gray, paying no heed to her guards. "I won't let you humiliate me and my troops like this."

   "You're not the first," said Devon. "But consider this before you pull the trigger. With me here, there's still some control. Without me—well, you've never seen the unbridled wrath of ARTEC. I have. Whether I'm dead or alive, ARTEC will come. That is a certainty." She pointed at Richelle who was still watching Marcian, a girlish smile on her lips. "After you blow my brains out, you're going to have to smear hers all over the room as well. You do understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

   Gray looked at Richelle, appearing confused.

   "She's Novian, and she's me too."

   "No," said Gray. "That's impossible."

   "And while you're at it, wipe the slate clean. Kill my Sister too. She's more valuable than I am anyway. ARTEC will come for her— even with me dead. Just remember to tell her you love her before you put a bullet in her brain. Now go ahead, pull the trigger."

   Renata's jaw dropped. "Devon! Are you insane?"

   With three clacks from their rifles, the guards immediately aimed them at Gray's head. "Captain," said the guard with the buzz cut. "Don't force us to stop you."

   As Gray's eyes glanced between her guards and Devon, indecision seemed to be overwhelming her face. "Can't you see how she's twisting this around? She's the evil here, not me."

   "Am I?" Devon raised her hand in a gesture of reconciliation.

   Gray looked in Devon's eyes, then suddenly pulled the gun from her face. She put the gun back in her holster.

   Her guards lowered their weapons, and one of them sighed.

   Renata began grabbing more food off the table. So much for Devon's control. Her tactics—well, they seemed ridiculous. Maybe she was crazy like she said.

   "You know," said Gray. "This is far from over. In fact, it's only the beginning. The NMA will go ballistic over this. They'll hunt you down. They'll find out what they need to do to capture you—or kill you if they have to. They'll prepare for ARTEC. We will fight to the death for what we believe in. We will not become another Earth. You can count on that."