King's Sacrifice (47 page)

"I've got
Security," Church reported.

Tomi ran to the
console.

The security
guard spoke softly, she was probably in hiding. "Seven
spaceplanes have landed. They left two men down here, guarding the
planes. The rest spread out through the ship. They know what they're
doing, all right. They're armed to the teeth. Some sort of gas
pellets knocked out the first security team."

"Dead?"

"No,
they're coming around. We've got a few wounded, but these guys,
whoever they are, seem to be going out of their way not to kill
anyone."

"It's not a
hit, then," Tomi said to Church. Frustrated, she beat her fist
on the console. "What the hell is going on? What do they want?
If we knew, maybe we could—"

"Tomi,"
said the lieutenant, "the door."

Tomi looked, was
astounded to see it starting to open. Furious, she rounded on the
ensign.

"I told you
to seal—"

"I did,
Tomi! I swear it!" His voice cracked in panic.

The door was
opening, sliding back smoothly, quietly, efficiently. She thought she
saw a tiny whiff of blue smoke puff out of the control panel next to
the hatch, but that may have been her imagination. She didn't have
time to dwell on it. Her lasgun was in her hand, aimed at the
entryway.

A bright blue
light flared, blinding in intensity. Tomi fired at it, saw it wink
out, saw her burst glance off, as if it had struck an invisible
shield. A woman clad in black walked in through the half-open door.
She held in her hand some sort of weird-looking sword that burned
with a bright blue light. Tomi squinted against it, fired again. The
blue light vanished. Again her energy burst was reflected, did no
damage.

A shield of some
sort.

The woman came
straight for her. Blue light flared in an arc. Tomi tried to fire
again, felt pain sear the flesh of her gunhand. She smelled burning
flesh, could see her own skin blister and bubble. And yet the blade
had never touched her, it had only come close.

Moving swift as
thought, the woman shifted the blade's position. Its blue light
glowed near Tomi's breast. She could feel the intense heat radiate
from it.

"Drop your
weapon," said the woman.

Tomi, despite
the pain in her burned hand, gripped the gun tightly. Point-blank
range, she couldn't miss if she tried. This woman with her sword or
shield or whatever it was couldn't possibly react faster than the
speed of laser fire.

Tomi looked the
woman in the eyes, to keep her attention from the gun. The blue light
of the sword reflected off gray eyes that were cool and dispassionate
as a frozen sea. The sword's blue light seemed to envelop Tomi,
enclose her in a dazzling halo. She couldn't see anything beyond the
light, except the woman standing before her, and the sudden, fearful
thought came to Tomi that everything beyond the light had vanished,
leaving her isolated, alone, adrift in time and space. Only the woman
with the gray eyes was real.

"Drop your
weapon," came the voice, speaking from within Tomi, not outside
her. "I don't want to have to kill you."

Tomi willed
herself to shoot, but her fingers no longer responded to her command.
They were under the control of the woman with the blue light and the
gray eyes. The lasgun fell to the deck with a clatter.

The blue light
vanished, leaving Tomi—so it seemed for an instant—in
red-tinged, eye-aching darkness. The woman turned her attention away
from her and Tomi felt, suddenly, as if she'd been dropped to the
deck with her gun. She was herself again, her will was her own. The
bridge, the deck— reality was back.

"All
secure, Xris?" the woman asked a cyborg, who had entered behind
her.

"All
secure, sister."

Tomi glanced
around, saw her lieutenant clutching a bleeding arm, a dart sticking
out of the flesh. His own side arm lay on the deck. The cyborg, of
course. She made a mental note, spotting the sophisticated weapons
hand he wore. Her communications officer cowered at his console, his
hands held so high in the air it seemed he might, with little effort,
grab hold of the ceiling.

The cyborg must
have augmented hearing, too. "Someone coming," he reported
to the woman, and he moved to stand against the bulkhead, near the
open door.

"How many?"

"One."

Tomi strained
her ears, couldn't hear anything, but it must be a member of the
security team. Probably heard something or seen something to make him
wary, suspicious. She could picture him in her mind, treading
soft-footed down the corridor, weapon drawn, walking into a trap . .
.

Tomi started to
shout a warning.

Xris, standing
against the wall, looked at her, smiled, shook his head. Laying his
real flesh-and-blood finger to his lips, he drew the metal finger
across his throat in a slashing motion, then glanced significantly at
the open doorway.

"Shout and
you won't die. He will," was the unspoken threat.

Tomi kept quiet.

The security man
dashed onto the bridge, beam rifle raised, aiming at the woman, who
stood watching him with an expression of cool interest. The sword in
her hand flared blue. The man paused, startled, eyes blinking.

Xris never moved
away from his stance by the wall. He lifted his arm, pointed it at
the man. The cyborg's hand flew off the end of his wrist, struck the
security man hard on the back of the head. He crumpled onto the deck
with a soft groan. The hand fell down beside him with a metallic
clang.

"Any more?"
asked the woman.

The cyborg
listened, seemed satisfied. Walking over, he picked up his hand,
reattached it. "No, that's it. Agis's coming . . . and Brother
Daniel."

Tomi heard the
pause between the names, saw the cyborg's lip curl when he mentioned
the second, filed this sign of a possible lapse in team spirit for
future reference. Her hand hurt. Trying to ignore the pain, she
turned to help her lieutenant.

"Here, sit
down," she said, leading him to a seat. "You all right?"

Church's face
was ashen, but he managed to smile. Blood welled from beneath his
fingers. The metal end of the dart protruded from the flesh. "He
needs a medic," Tomi said angrily, turning to the woman. "Let
me send for the doctor."

The boss would
know what was going on by now. His bodyguards were trained hit men,
they'd worked for the syndicate for years. A call to him, pretending
to ask for Doc, and . . .

"I don't
think so," the woman responded in a pleasant and totally
uncaring tone of voice. "I believe that there are enough of us
here at present."

"But he's
hurt!"

"That's not
my concern," said the woman.

A man entered
the door, glanced around swiftly, summing up the situation with cool,
deliberate calculation. A professional soldier if Tomi ever saw one.
Her heart sank. Whoever these people were, whatever they wanted, they
were obviously quite capable of taking it.

"Everything's
secure, my lady. Xris's men are rounding up the passengers, escorting
them to their rooms. Sparafucile has located the water supply. Raoul
is preparing the chemicals now."

"What?"
Tomi demanded. "What are you doing to the water supply?"

My lady. He
called the woman "my lady." Strange. But then none of this
made any sense. What did these people want?

"Casualties,
Agis?" My Lady asked, ignoring Tomi's question.

The soldier's
eyes flicked to the lieutenant, clutching his bleeding arm. "Only
a few, my lady, and most of those are minor. Some of the passengers
proved uncooperative, but threats and the butt ends of beam rifles
soon settled them. The owner of the ship was more difficult to
handle. He and several of his men barricaded themselves in his
stateroom. We blew the door, tossed in gas. They'll be unconscious
for quite a while, but they'll be all right."

Tomi bit her
lips, hoping no one would hear her sigh. Her last hope ended.

"Satisfactory,"
said My Lady. She pointed at the console. "Cut off all
communications. Enter the course change. Xris, see if you can shut
that door. Oh, Brother Daniel"—the woman glanced around at
a young man who had just entered-— "you have three
patients who would be grateful for your attention."

The young man,
unlike the cyborg and the soldier, appeared uncomfortable, ill at
ease, confused, and helpless. He followed the woman's gaze to Tomi
and the lieutenant. Tomi saw his eyes widen at the sight of Church's
injury.

Brother Daniel,
the woman called him. Tomi remembered the sneer in the cyborg's
voice. She lowered her eyelids hurriedly, fearful that her exultation
would be noticed. She had just found the weak link in the chain.

Church was
breathing heavily, his face was soaked with sweat. The young man
approached him, his gaze fixed on the lieutenant's wounded arm, his
eyes creased with concern. He reached out hands that looked strong,
skilled, delicate.

Tomi flung one
arm protectively around her lieutenant's shoulders.

"You
butcher! Get back! Don't touch him!"

Brother Daniel,
riveted by shock, stared at her, wordless.

Tomi was aware,
obliquely, of My Lady watching them. The young man quickly regained
his composure.

"I assure
you, ma'am—"

"Captain!"
Tomi snapped.

"I assure
you, Captain," the young man said, flushing, not looking at her
while he talked, "that I am a trained nurse. That wound needs
attention—" His lowered gaze caught sight of her own
injury. "And so does that burn on your hand," he said, at
last lifting his eyes to meet hers.

Swiftly, he
lowered them again.

"Don't
worry about me. You're right about Lieutenant Church. He needs
treatment, but I'm not letting any of you butchers touch him. The
infirmary's right down the corridor—"

"You're not
leaving the bridge, either of you," said My Lady with utter
finality. "And no one else enters. Brother Daniel treats the
lieutenant here and now or he bleeds to death."

Church was
obviously on the verge of passing out. Tomi, with a show of
reluctance, grudgingly moved to one side. "You'll be all right,"
she said to Church, who managed a weak smile.

Brother Daniel
hurried forward. Tomi backed off, managed, as she was doing so, to
brush up against the young man. She was startled to feel his body go
rigid at her touch. He shrank away from her, his face flushed a
burning crimson. He moved swiftly, hurriedly, past her to his
patient.

"You should
lie down."

Brother Daniel
put his arm around Church, guided him to a low, cushioned bench that
ran along one far wall, provided for the comfort of the guests when
they made their tour of the luxury liner after first coming on board.

Tomi looked
around the bridge—what had been, until moments ago,
her
bridge. The man, Agis, was altering the course. Nursing her burned
hand, Tomi leaned over to see what figures he punched in.

She stared in
disbelief. "No, wait! You've made a mistake."

"Have you
made a mistake, Agis?" My Lady asked.

"No, my
lady. These are the correct coordinates."

Tomi rounded on
the woman. "But that will take us into the Corasian galaxy!"

"Yes, it
will, Captain."

"Who are
you?" Tomi, for the first time, felt fear slither inside her.
"What do you want?"

"My name is
Maigrey Morianna. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"Yes, I've
heard of you," answered Tomi grimly. "You're one of the
Blood Royal. One of the last. There's a bounty on you—dead or
alive."

She glanced at
the strange weapon the woman wielded, remembered the terrible feeling
of being forced to obey this woman's will. At least that much was
explained. Other pieces were starting to fall into place.

"One of the
other last surviving members of the Blood Royal—what's his
name, Sagan—fled to Corasia to escape being executed for
murder. And you're off to join your lover. That's why you want this
ship, isn't it?"

The soldier
stirred in his chair, looked around at Tomi with a frown.

"Complete
your work, Agis."

"Yes, my
lady."

Maigrey
shrugged, started to turn away.

"And you
also need us to bribe your way into the galaxy safely!" Tomi
cried. Fear and anger were making her lose control. "You're
going to sell us to the Corasians! You bitch!"

Tomi lunged,
intent on killing the woman, not thinking, not caring what happened
to herself. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, was the panicked
thought that dying like this would be far preferable to the fate that
awaited her in the Corasian galaxy.

An arm of steel
blocked her way, a steel fist on her jaw knocked her fiat. Tomi
staggered back into a chair, fell, landed heavily on the deck. The
blow made her dizzy, she almost lost consciousness. Fighting the pain
and mists threatening to engulf her, she forced herself to a sitting
position, clinging to the overturned chair for support.

Xris stood over
her, apparently waiting to see if there was any fight left in her.
There was, but Tomi decided this was neither the time nor the place.
She shook her head weakly, wiped away blood with the back of her
hand, and spit out a dislodged tooth.

The cyborg,
satisfied, turned to Maigrey. "You fried those door controls
good, sister. It's jammed. It won't shut."

"Can you
fix it?"

"Sure. Take
a couple of hours—"

"Then do
so."

"What about
the captain here?"

"I'll keep
an eye on her. When Sparafucile's finished his work, he can escort
her and her lieutenant to their quarters. Good work, Xris,"
Maigrey added with a smile. "You and your men."

"All in the
contract, sister."