Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind (21 page)

Read Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind Online

Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"Do you want to go with us when we leave for Terra?” he asked.

Kym laughed. “Oh, my, no! My destiny is here as the new Prophetess-Mother when Cyle Acet has shuffled off this mortal coil."

"But if it is discovered you helped us..."

She waved a dismissive hand. “Don't worry about me, Kamerone. When all is said and done, there will be no one left to cause me harm. I am quite content to remain on Rysalia Prime and live out my days as a benevolent, fair, and compassionate Prophetess-Mother. Under my guidance, I will see our planet into the glory it deserves, sitting side by side with the other worlds in peace and prosperity."

"And you plan on having the support you will need?” he asked, his eyes giving evidence of his concern for her.

"I will,” she assured him. “How many enraged women have you seen casting curses upon you, Reaper?"

"Only a few."

"A very few,” she corrected. “And each of them in the employ and under the iron fist of Cyle Acet. The rest of us know well what you sacrificed for us and only one other—like myself—know the price you paid was more than even you could have guessed."

He frowned. “I don't understand."

Kym stood up and came around the desk. “Come with me, Kamerone,” she said, reaching her hand out to him.

Cree got up and clasped her hand in his, surprised at the strength in so small a hand as she gripped him. She led him to a door that sat off to one side of her office. A fingerprint scanner panel lit up as she placed her palm flat against its opaque screen. The door slid open to reveal a long, dark corridor.

"We had a hell of a time breaking the code to open this door,” Kym told him. “You do know whose office this was before the rebellion?"

"One of the Chief Justices if memory serves,” he replied.

"Aye. Your old nemesis Trae Onar,” she supplied the name.

Cree thought fleetingly of the man who had ordered his torture on several occasions. “I hope the bastard is dead."

"Oh, he is,” Kym said. “Long before you ever fled Rysalian air space he took his last hateful breath.” She reached inside the corridor and touched a light pad.

What Cree had perceived at first to be a long, dark corridor was in actuality a narrow room filled on three sides by floor to ceiling shelves. On the shelves was row after row of numbered black metal boxes.

"The boxes are lead-lined, earthquake-, flood-, and fireproof,” Kym said as she led him into the room. “What we have here is the repository of Rysalian history and top secret files only a very few men were ever privileged to see. Some of these files are ancient and on antiquated memory disks.” She let go of his hand and took down a box from midway the first wall of boxes. She handed it to him and reached for another, stacking it atop the other in his hands. The boxes, though small, were heavy due to the lead lining.

"How many boxes are there?” he asked.

"Well over a thousand,” she answered, motioning for him to exit the room.

Back in her office, Kym closed the door to the secret archive and went back to her chair. She waited until Cree had deposited the boxes on her desk and returned to his seat.

"When the Daughters took over Fleet Command Headquarters, we were assigned offices as befitted our position within the Multitude. Hael Sejm was given this office and I was given one further down the hall. When Sejm was having her new furniture installed she noticed one of the wall panels did not seem to be flush with the rest of the wall. When she ran her hand over it, she realized it was not stationary. Upon closer inspection, she found the panel could be pushed to one aside—sliding behind the panel next to it—and when she did this, she found the door to the hidden archives."

"It seems a strange place for such a thing,” Cree observed.

"Indeed it does, but the contents of the archive were not meant to be found so easily. As I said, it took months for our engineers to find a way to open that door. Now, only I can gain access to it."

"How many women know of its existence?"

"Only four of us,” she answered. “Sejm is no longer with us and Acet will join her soon in whatever hell the goddess has prepared for them."

"Who is the fourth?” he asked. “Is she trustworthy?"

Kym's face broke into a wide grin. “Do you remember Sister Mary Joseph Kelly?” she asked.

Cree's forehead crinkled for a moment then the memory of the nun he had abducted from Terra flitted across his mind's eye.

* * * *

"I think I'm going to enjoy this,” the old woman had said.

"I'll do my best to see that you do,” Cree had been shocked to hear himself say.

"What's your name, lad?” she'd asked, smiling at him.

"Cree,” he had replied. He surprised himself again when he realized he was smiling back at her.

"Cree what?"

"Kamerone Cree,” he told her.

"That sounds like a good Celtic name,” she had concluded. “I like it.

He had laughed. “I'll tell my father you approve,” he responded and ignored the stunned looks of his crew. He'd held out his hand. “Now, let's get you settled in the sleep unit."

* * * *

"She joined the Multitude?” he asked, surprised the religious would do such a thing.

"No, but she holds a high position in our new government. She is well respected by Terrans and others alike."

"I can understand that,” he said. “I liked her."

"And she has great fondness for what she calls her Celtic warrior,” Kym told him.

"Bridget would be happy to know the nun is well.” He glanced at the boxes. “Does the good Sister know what those boxes contain?"

"She does. Sejm and Acet could not have cared less about Rysalian history,” Kym said. “Once I read a few of the archives, I saw no reason to share the knowledge with either Sejm or Acet."

Cree felt a cold finger scraping down his spine. “I take it what is in the boxes pertain to me."

"To you,” she stated. “To all Reapers, including the cadets imprisoned here as well as those who were executed right after the rebellion.” She reached across the desk toward him and when he took her hand, she squeezed his fingers. “I tried to talk sense into Acet and Sejm, but they insisted on executing your bloodkin. The fever pitch was high on Rysalia Prime and the women were celebrating their freedom from the Empire. Sanity would not return to the Daughters for several weeks. If I could have saved your kin, please know that I would have. Sejm was furious the virus had no effect on the cadets."

"I bear you no blame for what happened to my kin,” he said. “I do not agree with the course the rebellion took, but I can understand the anger felt by the women."

"An anger they have begun to bitterly regret,” Kym said. “There are less than two dozen men on Rysalia Prime—including you and the cadets—and over twenty thousand women in the city alone. That doesn't take into consideration those women housed on the abandoned space stations or on the satellite moons. They are beginning to realize what a lonely point in space this has become.” She shrugged. “They now know how the Rysalian males felt when all their women died when the retrovirus was inadvertently released."

"So what do you do now?” he asked as she released his hand and sat back in her chair.

Kym shrugged. “We do what the Empire did except this time around it will be men brought to Rysalia Prime instead of women and the men will be asked, not abducted. We are in contact with Storia which has an overabundance of men to women as well as do the Amhantareans. They both seem a hardy bunch."

"And if they don't want to come here? What then?"

A long sigh undulated from the Chrystallusian woman's lips. “Then I suppose we will have to rethink the abducting part."

"And become like the Amazeen,” he said.

"I don't believe it will come to that but we won't know until we try. Never again will we women allow this world to become a male-dominated place of slavery and despair."

Cree stared at the etched numbers on the front of the black metal boxes. “Okay, so what's in there?” he asked.

"Things you should have been told long ago,” Kym answered. “Revelations that will change your life forever, Kamerone."

The cold finger of dread scratched deeply into his spine and he fidgeted in the chair. “Why do I feel as though that change might not be for the better?"

"It is all in the perspective,” Kym said and tilted her head to one side when he laughed. “You find that amusing?"

He shook his head. “No, it's just that Dorrie said the same thing to me when I was complaining about all the women I'd suddenly inherited on the
Alluvia
."

"An interesting woman is one of those,” Kym said. “I had a long talk with the Necromanian princess. She is a most remarkable woman."

"Zainabu?” Kamerone queried. He wanted to know when Kym had spoken to the Necromani for he hadn't seen her leave the
Alluvia
before it was transported to the docking bay.

"She is the betrothed of Prince Lares Taborn is she not?” Kym asked. “She will Join with him when she reaches Terra."

Cree squirmed in his chair. “Actually, no, she won't.” His face took on a pained look. “He's already Joined with Beryla Dean. Legally under Terran law."

Kym's lips parted in an ‘o’ of surprise. “That doesn't bode well for Beryla,” she said. “Zainabu is a warrioress."

"Aye,” Cree said. “I'm all too aware of that. Where is she now?"

"We have a few Necromanian women here. She went to meet with them and took along the two Ionarians.” Kym frowned. “I don't care for those two."

"You spoke to them, as well?” he asked.

"Briefly,” Kym said. “Not overly bright women but then Ionarians as a whole aren't particularly intelligent beings."

"May I ask why you spoke to them?"

"Do you think I would leave your safety in unknown hands, Kamerone?” she countered. “I wanted to be sure the three of them were as committed to you and your escape as are the Amazeens and Dorrie. Oh, by the way...” She leaned back and opened a desk drawer, taking out a small leather box and placing it on the desktop. “I have already given one of these to the Necromani and had one taken to Dorrie in her cell. The Ionarians will not be leaving with you when the time comes. Because they aren't, I am having them watched closely. I want no loose lips giving away the plan. I have one each for Kahmal and her crew.” She opened the box and withdrew a thin golden chain upon which hung a small disk. She handed it to him. “Put this on and under no circumstances remove it. Hide it beneath your jumpsuit."

He looked down at the disk upon which strange symbols had been engraved. “What is it?"

"It is a locator. I will hand the codes for each locator over to Kahmal in the morning. All she will need to do is plug in those codes in her retrieval bank and no matter where any of you are on this planet you can be transported to the
Alluvia
without interference."

"A very handy little gadget,” he said and hooked the gold chain over his head and tucked the medal inside the front of his jumpsuit.

"Now, I am going to leave you alone with my computer for awhile,” Kym said, getting up from behind her desk. “When you have scanned the information in those two boxes—start with the lower numbered one first and read the data in order as you find it; you'll know what needs to be read and what doesn't—you can have Shei-Ling find me. It shouldn't take you more than an hour."

"Do you need to leave?"

"I don't want to be here to see your face as you read,” she said.

He frowned. “Is it that bad?"

"Bad enough, Kamerone,” she said as she came around the desk. She hesitated then bent down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “And when you've read what is in the boxes, there is somewhere I need to take you. The password is Resuello, by the way.” She spelled the word for him so there would be no mistake.

Long after Kym had left the room, Cree sat staring at the boxes. He wasn't sure he wanted to open them. In his youth, he had devoured the history and literature of Terra and the myth of Pandora's Box was uppermost in his mind. He remembered all too well how all the ills, crimes, diseases, and sorrows of mankind had flown from the box when it had been opened and he feared he was about to unleash something he could never control.

He leaned forward in his chair and slid the higher numbered box from the lower. Just touching the thing sent a faint electric shock down his arm. He knew that was nothing but his nerves playing tricks on him but nevertheless it added to his unease. He was getting a headache and he reached up to rub the pain over his right eye for a long time, staring intently at the boxes.

When at last his curiosity got the better of him, he plucked the lower numbered box from the desk and set it in his lap. His face was set, his jaw clenched, as he thumbed the lid up and looked inside, flinching as though he expected a swarm of stinging insects to flood from the interior as it had from Pandora's chest.

There were eight two inch square black computer disklettes lying in a thick foam pad, each disklette pressed into its own cushioned bed. There were two rows of the disklettes and each bore a different name. The disklette bearing Kamerone Cree's name was the second from the left on the top row. The top left label read Dr. Dearing Noah Jarl. Just staring at that name made the hairs on the back of Cree's neck stand up. His fingers hovered over the Jarl disklette for a long time before he finally plucked it from its foam bed. Not giving himself time to balk, he got up from his chair, took the metal box with him, and sat down at Kym's computer. Placing the box beside the keyboard, he placed the disklette into its designated slot on the CPU, his hand shaking as he reached for the electronic device that controlled the coordinates of the cursor on the vid-com screen.

A bright red screen appeared on the vid-com with the word
Warning!
in bold red letters. Under that word was a prohibition as to who could view the file on the disklette, restricting its contents to Level 9 and Above Justices. A password box pulsed at the bottom right corner of the screen.

Cree put his hands on the keyboard, hesitated for a second or two then typed in Resuello. The first thing that popped up on the screen was an official photograph of Dr. Dearing Noah Jarl. Beneath his name were the dates of his birth and death.

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