Clan and Crown (9 page)

The invitations made the Imdiko think
of Clajak, the Dramok’s delightful body crushed against his. Those
thoughts made Egilka moodier than ever.

As busy as Ler was that morning, it was
sedate compared to the festivities offered and enjoyed at night.
After dark, the crush of bodies in the streets might keep a person
standing in the same spot for half an hour. Most didn’t mind as the
atmosphere of decadent celebration meant drinking and sex were
available wherever you ended up ... if one wasn’t too
picky.

With the sun climbing high and the
temperature soaring, most tourists and inhabitants had moved
indoors. Egilka found it easy to navigate the dusty streets that
sent him to the ‘dispensary’. The Imdiko was chagrined to discover
it was little more than a hole in the wall. The proprietor was a
grimacing Dantovonian hunched behind a counter.

Looking like a cross between an insect
and an amphibian, the indigenous species of the planet was as
shrewd as it was ugly. Egilka eyed the creature with a segmented
face and long hind legs that enabled it to hop great distances. He
– Egilka thought this particular Dantovonian was a he – was a
quarter of the Kalquorian’s size. His grayish-green segmented
carapace made clicking sounds as the creature moved.

Egilka couldn’t imagine a more
disreputable looking shop or keeper. It reminded him of one of the
favorite sayings on Dantovon: the poorer looking the fellow, the
more money he had. Given the lack of any niceties of this place,
this fellow commanded top dollar for his wares. He would also have
weapons close at hand if he suspected any trouble.

There was another saying on Dantovon:
kill first and ask questions later.

Had it not been Emperor Yuder who had
sent him to drug dealer, Egilka would have turned around and walked
away. His one defense was that Kalquorians were known to have money
ready to spend, and money was what made the residents of the planet
happy. This Dantovonian would give Egilka leeway if he caused
offense ... but only to a point.

After taking his request, the
Dantovonian hop-wriggled its way through a darkened doorway behind
its counter. It returned with a needle injector, its vial filled
with amber-colored liquid. Egilka winced to see the delivery
system. Most medical injectors were painless. This one was going to
hurt like hell if he managed to jab Clajak with it.

Egilka told himself that it was a small
bit of what the prince deserved for running off, both from Kalquor
and after last night. Maybe that was why Yuder had recommended this
particular vendor. The Nobek Emperor had no problem demonstrating
his impatience with his only child.

Egilka paid for the drug and injector,
which would knock Clajak out cold for several hours ... long enough
to haul his rebellious ass to a transport and get underway for a
nonstop journey to Kalquor.

Egilka stepped out of the marginally
cooler environs of the dispensary and squinted in the fierce
sunlight. At the edges of the city, steam rose from the jungle. The
Imdiko looked up and down the nearly empty street. The oppressive
heat was driving even the hardiest of celebrants indoors. If Clajak
was still somewhere in the city, no doubt he had holed up with some
luscious prostitute or two. Or a dozen. Hadn’t he said something
about a place with a nonstop orgy?

There was no telling where the Dramok
had ended up. Egilka wiped at the sweat running in rivers down his
forehead. “If I was a self-centered prince looking for fun and
excitement, where would I go?” he wondered out loud.

As if on cue, he heard the distant roar
of a crowd. The sound came from the center of the city, where a
huge entertainment stage filled an entire square. Thinking it might
be a sign, Egilka headed that way. It was as good a place to start
looking as any.

It took a few sweltering minutes to
reach the hub of the city. When Egilka got to it, he gaped at the
churning mass of life before him. Despite the growing heaviness of
the air, the crowd surrounding the open air stage was large. Aliens
of every size and description in loose-knit packs craned their
necks to watch the program in progress.

At over six and a half feet tall,
Egilka saw over most of the crowd. The stage held about a dozen
pairs or groups of aliens, all having sex under the glaring sun.
Smiling males and females of varying races pulled onlookers from
the crowd up on the stage, enticing them to join in on the fun. It
was a demonstration put on by one of the brothels to drum up
business.

Egilka licked his lips as he watched
sweating bodies twine together in lascivious knots. The sex workers
were a talented lot for the most part, turning fucking into a
sinuous ballet of entangled limbs. The crowd’s cheers were not
halfhearted in the least. Egilka wondered which brothel these
prostitutes came from. It would be worth a visit. His gaze filled
with one green-skinned Duhi, her six long-fingered hands easily
handling the male Plasian lying beneath her on one of the stage’s
platforms. She simultaneously stroked his cock, finger-fucked his
ass and mouth, pinched his nipples, and spanked his ass. He writhed
under her bidding, his black-marble eyes glassy. Egilka rubbed his
stiffening cocks, thinking about how delicious it would be to be
ravished by a woman with six arms. How equally delicious it would
be to play with the four full breasts that ran the length of her
torso. The heat in the square seemed to rocket up another ten
degrees.

The Imdiko might have remained
distracted had he not spotted the two large creatures lumbering
with a purpose through the crowd before him. Onlookers cried out as
the pair of Tragooms stalked through, but they jumped out of the
way quick enough. Egilka curled his lip. Damned awful creatures.
With ugly, warty, snouted faces, bad tempers, and smelling like
rotten dung to boot, Tragooms were no one’s favorite species. They
crossed borders, attacked when they sensed weakness, and stole
others’ technology for their own uses. They thought nothing of
raping and killing just for fun. Even the Galactic Council of
Planets turned a blind eye when its members slayed Tragooms with no
provocation. The only line the governing body drew was attacking
the Tragoom home world with no motive.

Dantovonians loved money, and they had
no compunction taking it from any species. Dantovon was one of the
few planets that had commerce with Tragooms. Still, being
universally hated kept the monstrous bastards from coming to the
pleasure planet in large numbers. It was odd to see them
about.

There had been two outside the brothel
the day before, wearing Bi’isil collars. Egilka’s eyes narrowed and
he strained for a closer look at the hide-wearing pair plodding
through the crowd. The brutal sun reflected a gleam from their
necks. Yes, this pair wore metallic collars. Were these the same
Tragooms enslaved to Ru’imbu?

The Imdiko wove through the crowd,
looking the pair over closer still as he closed the distance. He’d
not taken a long, lingering look at the Tragooms outside the
brothel yesterday. His intent had been to escape the irate Bi’isil
prince and get Clajak away as well. He couldn’t be sure these two
were the same pair.

His breath caught to see one holding a
long bar in its cloven-fingered hand. There was a loop of
retraction wire at the end of it. A capture noose. The Tragooms
hunted, looking to catch prey of some sort. From the way their
rounded snouts stuck in the air with nostrils flaring, they tracked
a particular quarry, one whose scent they’d caught. They were
making a beeline for their victim.

Evil premonition filled Egilka’s gut.
He looked in the direction the Tragooms headed. Sure enough, he
caught sight of a familiar steel-haired head. Clajak stood in front
of the performing Duhi, a big appreciative smile lighting his face.
He had no idea doom was coming on him fast.

Egilka shoved his way through the
crowd, panic making his heart hammer. The congestion closest to the
stage thickened, holding him back. There was no way he’d get to the
prince before the Tragooms slipped the noose around the Dramok’s
neck. But he might be able to reach the Tragooms before they got
Clajak.

A battle-trained Kalquorian could take
on several Tragooms in hand-to-hand combat. Egilka was not
battle-trained. He was a research scientist, an Imdiko who had
taken a few fighting classes with self-defense in mind. Egilka
would be no match for the pair of aliens that towered over him,
each weighing twice as much as him.

His frantic brain could think of only
one thing to do. He pulled the needle with its vial of sedative
from his pouch, the one he’d intended to use on Clajak. Egilka had
no idea if it would be potent enough to take out a Tragoom ... and
he could only dose one.

There was no time to deliberate over
his chances. The broad backs of the Tragooms were right in front of
him now. Rents in the hides they wore showed him the thick,
rock-like surface of their gray skin.

Only three places on a Tragoom’s thick
hide were vulnerable to a stabbing attack. Egilka’s aim would have
to be accurate. A miss would get him killed.

With the needle in one fist, he pounded
on the closest Tragoom’s shoulder with the other. The rancid stench
of the creature filled his nose and mouth. Egilka did his best to
ignore the reek, though his guts gave a heave. “Hey!” he shouted at
it.

Cheers shattered the air as spectators
urged on those having sex on the stage. With all the noise, the
other Tragoom didn’t note Egilka’s presence. He clumped on towards
Clajak while Egilka’s intended victim slowed and began to turn. Its
triangular ears swung like satellite dishes on top of its boulder
head.

Tiny, muddy brown eyes set deep in the
Tragoom’s skull peered around as it swiveled its head before its
body. Tragooms had awful eyesight, but their sense of smell more
than made up for that shortcoming. Egilka’s target’s nostrils
flared, getting a good whiff of sweating Kalquorian. The hulking
body tensed. The Tragoom’s arms bunched, readying to
attack.

Letting instinct and panic guide him,
Egilka plunged the needle at the Tragoom’s face, sinking it into
one of those myopic eyes. He depressed the plunger, sending the
sedative into the monstrosity.

It worked with amazing efficiency. The
Tragoom got off one ear-blasting bellow. Its carrion breath drowned
Egilka before shoving him away. The Imdiko flew backwards for
several feet, landing hard on his ass in the dirt next to the
stage. He looked up in time to see the Tragoom stagger and
collapse. It flailed for a moment, clasping one hoof-like hand to
its injured eye. It made strained squealing sounds that got the
attention of its companion. Then it lay silent and
still.

As the second noose-holding Tragoom
stomped back to its felled companion, Egilka wasted no time. He
jumped to his feet and ran for Clajak, pushing amused bystanders
aside as he went. He reached the prince and grabbed his
shoulder.

Clajak jerked around. His face split in
a welcoming grin that at any other time would have warmed the
Imdiko. “Oh, hi Egilka. Did you sleep well? You’re here just in
time for us to join in on the fun.” He nodded at the delightful
Duhi in front of them on the stage. She had finished with the
Plasian and looked over the crowd for her next playmate.

One part of Egilka’s mind registered
that Clajak had wanted him to find him all along. Anger at being
toyed with replaced anger at being deserted. Still, there was no
time for that. A quick glance at the Tragooms only feet away
confirmed that suspicion. The one with the capture noose kicked its
senseless companion, snorting with impatience. He would soon give
up on his sedated friend and come after them both.

Egilka gave the prince a rough shove
that barely hinted at his irritation. “Fuck you, Clajak. Your
friend Ru’imbu sent his pets to collect you. I put one out of
commission already. We need to get moving.”

Clajak peered at the two monstrosities,
darted a look at the Duhi heading in their direction, and huffed
disappointment. “Damn. I was hoping to have a turn on stage.” He
shrugged, his devil-may-care smirk setting the Egilka’s teeth on
edge. “Oh well. Let’s get you out of here. Good work taking the one
Tragoom out. You’ll have to tell me how you did it
later.”

Clajak’s hand circled Egilka’s arm in
an iron grip. The Dramok tugged him through the crowd, taking
Egilka away from the danger. He wove through the mass of aliens
with the skill of a man who had run from trouble before. Egilka’s
ire rose even as he admired his companion’s adept ability to make a
hasty exit. Clajak was entirely too good at this.

Within a couple of minutes they were at
the outskirts of heat-hazy Ler, on the opposite edge of where
Egilka’s lodgings were. Between a couple of granite-walled
buildings, Clajak led him to a dark cave opening. It was the
entrance to the market beneath the city, a place locals referred to
as Below. As they descended into its dark environs, Egilka felt the
air cool. Moments later, they entered the main corridor of a warren
of tunnels.

Chapter 4

Egilka stared at his surroundings as he
followed his companion. Dantovonian residents teemed here, enjoying
the escape from the muggy heat above ground. The two Kalquorians
joined the crowd in the underground maze.