Forging Zero (68 page)

Tril’s
sudah began fluttering.  “The…honor, sir?”  All around them, the Ooreiki were
stiffening, as if Bagkhal had deeply insulted them.

“Not
you,” Bagkhal snorted.  “One of your recruits.  Lagrah tells me you have
several that are quite talented.”

Tril
relaxed.  “We had one, but she killed another recruit in a fight yesterday.  I
gave her the Ninth Degree.”

Prince
Bagkhal spun.  “You killed a
recruit?”

Tril
looked baffled.  “No.  I only gave her the Ninth—”

“You
stupid ashsoul!” Bagkhal raged.  “How did you manage to become a secondary commander?”

The
entire regiment was so silent they could hear the wind in the ferlii branches. 
Tril’s sudah began fluttering rapidly.  “She’s alive.  My battlemaster reported
so to me earlier this morning.”

“That’s
because I only used the Eighth,” Nebil said.

Both
Tril and Prince Bagkhal turned to look at Nebil. 

“What
is your name, Battlemaster?” the big Dhasha said.

“Nebil,
my lord.”

“You
disobeyed an order from your secondary commander?”

“I
wasn’t about to kill my best recruit for avenging her groundmate,” Nebil
replied calmly.

The
Dhasha pulled back and began to pace, his great weight crunching the diamonds
under him.  “I am not liking this, Commander Tril.  If you don’t command the
respect of your battlemasters, why should your recruits take their training
seriously?”

“They
do,” Tril said quickly.  “Even with nearly a tenth of its recruits missing, my
battalion has kept up with Second Battalion throughout training.  One of my
squads managed to capture a flag.”

Prince
Bagkhal turned.  “Really?  Who was the battlemaster of that squad?”

Tril
flinched as if he had been struck.  “Nebil, my lord.”

“The
same one who ignored your command to kill a recruit.”

“I
didn’t order him to kill a—”

“Battlemaster
Nebil, you are the new head of Sixth Battalion.”

Tril
stumbled forward.  “He’s just a battlemaster!  The Training Committee—”

“From
what I’ve been told,” Bagkhal interrupted, “There are plenty of things going on
around here the Training Committee would not approve of.”  As Tril recoiled, he
continued, “I already scheduled your departure, Commander Tril.  Go pack.”

For a
long time, the Ooreiki did not move.  Prince Bagkhal cocked his huge, sharklike
head at him, watching.  Then, stiffly, Tril turned.

“Before
you go,” Bagkhal interrupted, “I want your perceptual unit.”

Tril slowly
retrieved the little black device from his vest, his sudah fluttering madly.

Bagkhal
snorted his amusement.  “I’m not going to use it on you, furg.  Put it on the
ground and get out of here.”

Tril
dropped the unit on the ground and, looking numb, walked away.

The
huge Dhasha nudged the device at Nebil with a rainbow-scaled toe.  “Do you want
it?”

Nebil didn’t
even look at it.  “No.”

“Good.” 
Bagkhal stomped on it, slicing through the metal with his claws.  Joe let out a
pent-up breath, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Unfortunately,”
the Dhasha said, once the thing was utterly destroyed, “Tril is right.  The
Training Committee will take umbrage with a battlemaster commanding a
battalion.  I hereby promote you to—”

“Roast
them,” Nebil said.

The
Dhasha hesitated.  “Excuse me?”

“Roast
them,” Nebil repeated.  “I’m not taking another point.  Been there three times
already.  Not doing it again.”

The
Dhasha peered at Nebil for several breaths, then said, “Very well.  The
Committee can take its complaints up with me.” He turned to scan Nebil’s
recruits.  “Now.  If you really gave that recruit the Eighth Degree, she won’t
be useful for another week.  Do you have another recruit that might be able to
assist me?”

“Zero,”
Nebil said.

Joe
felt like he’d been punched in the gut.  Nebil was offering him up as a
slave
?

Prince
Bagkhal twitched his head.  “Zero?  Is that the name of a recruit?”

“Kkee,”
Nebil replied.  “He’s the one who led the offensive that captured the flag.”

No,
Joe thought, his whole body stiffening.  He fisted his hands
against his sides. 
No.  I won’t do this.  Not again.

The
Dhasha cocked his huge, sharklike head.  “I was under the impression that Draft
rolls began at One.”

“They
do,” Nebil replied.  “He was an Unclaimed who Kihgl added under Zero.”

Prince
Bagkhal clicked his teeth together.  “Very well.  Bring him to me.”

Battlemaster
Nebil turned to Joe.  “Zero, get out of formation.”

Betrayal
raking his insides, Joe did not move.

For one
long moment, Nebil stared at Joe and Joe ignored him, staring straight ahead as
rigidly as a statue.  Then the Ooreiki stalked forward, grabbed him in his
stinging tentacle grip, and threw him at the Dhasha’s feet.

“No!”
Joe shouted, jumping back.  “I won’t do it again.  I’d rather you killed me
first, you burning asher!”

“That
can be arranged,” Nebil said coolly.

Prince
Bagkhal observed the exchange with a quizzical tilt to his massive jaws.  “What
does he mean, ‘again’?”

Joe
turned to stare directly into the Dhasha’s eyes, hoping it would get him
killed.  He was
not
going back.  The Dhasha grunted and flinched
slightly, like someone fighting down a sudden reflex, then just stared back,
looking almost…curious.

“I gave
Zero to Knaaren rather than see Tril use the Ninth Degree on him,” Nebil
growled, “the ungrateful furg.”

The
Dhasha jerked.  “He was a
slave?”

“For
two weeks.  Knaaren traded him back to Tril for another recruit.”

Joe
continued to meet the Dhasha’s gaze, deciding to pull Kihgl’s maneuver and get
eaten for it.  He would
not
be a slave again. 
Never
.

Clicking
his black rows of teeth together, Prince Bagkhal said, “It doesn’t appear he
learned any manners while in Knaaren’s care.  Unless he is deliberately trying
to provoke me.”  The Dhasha leaned closer to Joe, filling his vision with a
single emerald eye.  “
Are
you trying to provoke me?”

“I’m
not a slave,” Joe gritted.  “I’ll die first.”

The
Dhasha seemed to digest that a moment.  “Take off your shirt, Human.”

Joe
ignored him and returned to his groundteam.

“You
Jreet-loving sootwad,
do
it!” Nebil roared, yanking him back.

“I
won’t wear those burning robes again,” Joe snapped.  “Go burn yourselves.”  Joe
turned around and started to walk away.

“Battlemasters,
detain him,” the Dhasha said.  Three Ooreiki swarmed Joe and dragged him back
to the Dhasha’s feet.  They held his face in the gravel until Bagkhal gave them
the command to release him.  Slowly, fury burning in his chest, Joe righted
himself.

“I’ll
repeat, Human.  Take off your shirt,” the Dhasha said.  “You would not like it
if I did it.”

Taking
a step away from the Dhasha so he could look up into his eyes, Joe said, “And I
repeat, asher, go burn yourself.”

The
Dhasha clicked his teeth together again.  “Battlemasters, take off his shirt.”

“Get
off of me!” Joe shouted, trying to struggle out of the Ooreiki’s burning grip. 
When he refused to raise his arms over his head, they ended up ripping the
shirt off of him.  When they released him again, Joe picked up a chunk of
diamond from the ground and got ready to clobber one of them with it.

“Zero!”
Nebil snapped, “Put that down, you soot-eating furg!  He’s not looking for a burning
slave!”

Joe
paused uncertainly.  “What?”

“I’m
going to need to document that,” Prince Bagkhal said. 

Joe
realized the Dhasha was staring at his chest.  

“Is
this the only survivor?”

“As far
as I know,” Nebil replied.

“And he
was still under Congressional protection?”

“Kkee.”

“Destruction
of Congressional property.  Send clips of it to the Committee for Knaaren’s
trial.  Let them see what he did when he wasn’t eating them.”

Joe
dropped the rock, confused.

Prince
Bagkhal clicked his teeth together in amusement.  “I’d tell you to put your
shirt back on, but it seems you can’t.”  He turned to Nebil.  “Battlemaster,
you’re sure I can have this one?”

Joe
stiffened again.  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The
Dhasha stared down at him, his scaly alien face lit up with amusement.  “Then
we are at an impasse, because I’m not leaving until you do.”

Joe
laughed.  “What kind of furgsoot is that?”

The
Dhasha waited.

Joe’s
amusement died in his throat.  “You’re just going to
stand
there?”

The
Dhasha said nothing.

“I’m
not going anywhere with you,” Joe repeated uncertainly.

“Zero,
I will beat you until you’re a bloody—” Nebil began.

“It is
just as well, Battlemaster,” Bagkhal replied.  “My sons and I had a good fight
with Knaaren and I have nothing more to do today.  The rest of you may go
acquaint your battalions with their biosuits.”

“Perhaps
we should have kept the perceptual unit,” Nebil said, his scowl giving Joe the
idea he wanted to strangle him.  “He’s one stubborn sooter.”

“So am
I,” the Dhasha said, staring down at Joe like a cat watching a mouse.

“You’re
declaring ka-par?” Lagrah demanded, from a few yards off.  His pale brown eyes
went from Joe to the Dhasha and back.  “With a
recruit?
”  He sounded
shocked.

“I’m
considering it,” Prince Bagkhal said, still fixated on Joe.  “This one
intrigues me.”

“No
need to waste your time, milord,” Nebil growled, reaching for Joe’s neck. 
“I’ll deal with the fire-loving Jreet.”

“Go
attend to your battalion, Battlemaster,” Bagkhal ordered, his tone allowing no
complaint.  “I will handle this.”

Battlemaster
Nebil gave Joe a look promising a few thousand laps around the barracks, then turned
and went back to Sixth Battalion, leaving Joe standing in front of the enormous
Dhasha alone.

As the
spore-breeze whipped across the plaza, tinkling the diamond chunks disturbed by
Bagkhal’s taloned feet, Joe found himself stunned that the Dhasha hadn’t
ordered anyone to drag Joe back to his den for him, let alone batted him in
half. 

Still,
he knew that it could be a ruse, a hoax, a cat playing with its mouse…  The
last thing he was going to do was go back to a Dhasha’s den.  Once he was
there, Bagkhal could do anything he wanted to him, anything at all, and
Congress would simply turn its head.

“Whenever
you’re ready to follow me to my quarters,” Bagkhal calmly said into the silence
that followed, “let me know.”

“I
won’t
serve you,” Joe growled.  He started to back away.

“I
didn’t dismiss you,” Bagkhal reminded him. 

Joe
felt a flush of anger.  “Like I give an ash.”  He turned his back to the
Dhasha, fully prepared to be eaten, rather than taken as a slave to Dhasha
again.

“What
you are doing is insubordination,” the Dhasha reminded him calmly.

“Damn
right, it is,” Joe said, still walking towards the barracks.

“You’re
not afraid of me,” Bagkhal commented.

“I just
know I’m gonna die,” Joe retorted, without turning.  “Don’t really care, at
this point.”  He kept going, waiting for the jaws to descend upon him.

“Do you
know what ka-par is, Zero?” Prince Bagkhal rumbled, at his back.

Joe
hesitated.  He could feel the huge predator watching him.  Frowning, he
turned.  “Let me guess…” he snapped, with more disdain than he intended.  “Some
obscure new way to claim a slave?”

“It is
an ancient ritual amongst the elders of my people,” Bagkhal said serenely.  “A
way to settle arguments and determining the better warrior without the
inconvenience of shredding each other.  Though with lesser species, it is often
a way for a Dhasha to legitimately claim dominance, yes.  When declared, even
Congress recognizes the results of ka-par, and other Dhasha will enforce the
result, which is why it is not offered often.”

Joe
snorted.  “Burn you.”  He turned to go again.

“I
haven’t dismissed you,” Bagkhal repeated calmly.  

“So eat
me,” Joe said, still walking.

“I
could,” Bagkhal said.  “But I’m more interested in fixing the mess that my
ignorant furg of a predecessor left for me.  Thus, I would like to offer you
ka-par.”