ROMULUS (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 1) (4 page)

Aster lost her sight but not her hearing. Metal screeched against metal. Some unspeakable power was wrenching the ship in half. Soundlessly, she screamed in pain and terror as the ear-splitting noise obliterated her sanity.

Chapter 2

Romulus touched the screen of the vidcom embedded in the desktop and the monitor shifted to an upright position. "Operation Palomar, confidential data file, text only." A flicker of light scanned his retina for authorization and the requested material appeared on the monitor.

As with everything that had crossed his desk in the past week, he was looking for a flaw, an oversight, something to explain this nagging feeling. His nerves were on edge, a highly unusual state for him, and he was certain it was because he had missed an important fact that only his subconscious had picked up. He reviewed the facts on Operation Palomar.

Reports from Innerworld's Stellar Monitor Control were normally repetitious observations of the positions and conditions of the planets in and around Earth's solar system. But two weeks ago, an SMC technician had recorded a shift in Jupiter's gravitational pull against the sun. It had caused a realignment of bodies in the asteroid belt between Jupiter and Mars and several asteroids had altered their individual orbits entirely.

Many asteroids' orbits were normally irregular and might occasionally cross Earth's path but were rarely a matter of concern. This time, however, one particular asteroid—actually a planetoid since it measured almost two hundred miles across—was heading directly toward Earth. From its current position and speed, its collision with Earth would occur in just over a year.

As a respected member of Earth's scientific community, Innerworld's Emissary K66's assignment was to make sure his Terran colleagues picked up the shift and were proceeding properly with all due haste. K66 was in a position to help the Terrans prevent global destruction without any overt assistance from Innerworld or their home planet, Norona. The Ruling Tribunal's directive of noninterference would not be disobeyed.

But the Terrans definitely needed that assistance, Romulus thought grimly to himself. Earth's own experts disagreed on whether to explode or attempt to deflect the planetoid. If they decided to destroy it, a fragment might ricochet at an even greater speed and still hit Earth. If that fragment were as big as ten miles in diameter, the resulting earthquakes, tidal waves and pollutants could destroy all life on the surface and Innerworld could be sealed off. If the planetoid was not deflected at all, it would knock Earth out of its orbit and destroy Innerworld as well. They would have no choice but to evacuate.

The most efficient method would be to implant rockets in strategic locations on the planetoid. When detonated, the blast would change the planetoid's orbit again, redirecting it into the sun, where it would burn up.

The problem was the timing. It was essential that the planetoid be diverted within a precise area of space. If several of Earth's governments pooled their resources, they would have a sufficient number of space shuttles and firepower to do the job. Given the limited speed of their ships, however, even if they launched tomorrow, they would not make the rendezvous point in time.

Emissary K66 was responsible for handling that problem also. He would have to feed the knowledge of how to achieve the necessary speed to the right Terran scientist.

But Romulus knew there was no reason for concern. The solution was simple and the situation would not become critical for another six weeks.

He requested an intermediate update then called for his assistant, Tarla. He needed a powerful energy drainer.

* * *

Tarla leisurely chose a seat in the empty gallery. When word got out that Romulus was playing, the Arena benches would be jammed. He was respected as Chief Administrator of Car-Tem Province, but his outstanding skill in the games was what roused the fans.

To her right, at the far end of the field, a giant black stallion pawed the dirt as its rider mounted. What fantastic luck! An hour ago when Tarla had called the Arena for an appointment for Rom, she had used his name to insist on a human opponent for the games, but she had never expected it would be the infamous Black Knight. Rumor had it the mystery man was actually a trainer who only accepted the most adept students and refused to play in the games for fear his superior skill might result in injury to his opponent.

She could imagine Rom's immense pleasure when he discovered who he would be fighting. She knew better than anyone how badly he needed to burn off some excess energy. For the last several weeks he had been uncharacteristically nervous and impatient.

Thank the heavens, the official notification of his nomination had arrived today. In spite of being half the age of the current Governor of the Innerworld colony, Rom was obviously the best qualified of all the candidates nominated for the governorship. Tarla had expected the news to delight as well as calm him. Instead, he had gotten worse.

The Arena games excited her as much as they did her boss. After a millennium of social and cultural refinement, the primitive man still lingered deep inside Innerworld's occupants. Since their laws prohibited violence, they had been forced to create outlets for their unreleased aggression.

Rom appeared from the left, nodding slightly when the crowd applauded enthusiastically. Tarla smirked when she glanced around at the number of people filling the stands.

Even covered from head to toe, Romulus presented a formidable figure. His paper-thin silver armor, helm, boots and gauntlets fit his tall, muscular frame like a second skin. A navy-blue tunic hung from his broad shoulders to just below the protective codpiece. He was the Blue Knight.

Rom swung his body onto a white Arabian as large and anxious as the black. Modern technology had created the men's armor but the lances were replicas from ancient times.

When the first game began, the men ran their horses at full gallop toward the center of the field where they lanced a ring balanced on a post.

In the second contest the knights hurled their lances at a small target while flying by on their well-trained steeds. The scoreboard confirmed that neither game had offered the men much of a challenge. Black and Blue each had twelve, the maximum points possible.

Tarla's excited cheers blended in with the noise of the crowd, as the time for real battle arrived. The warriors exchanged their pointed lances for blunt-ended ones and shields while the referees lined up the railings for tilting. The contestants had to attempt to unseat their opponent as they raced past each other in separate lists. If both men were still mounted after three passes, the fight would continue on foot with swords and shields.

The trumpet sounded and the mighty four-legged creatures performed as they had been trained. The breakneck speed alone would have upset an amateur rider, but neither of these men fell into that category. With their bodies pressing forward, they managed their horses with straining legs as they bore their weapons in front of them.

With a thunder of hooves, the figures came together. Metal clashed as shield struck against shield then parted again.

On the second try as the noble steeds charged ahead, both men brandished their lances threateningly. Romulus directed his toward his enemy's helm, above the shield. The Black Knight aimed straight for the center of his opponent's shield.

The Black Knight managed to swerve just in time to avoid the attack on him but still achieved his own goal of hitting Rom's shield. Upon impact, the wooden post of The Black Knight's lance splintered into pieces. The force of the blow was so powerful that Rom's horse reared dangerously backward and it took all his strength to right the animal again.

When both men managed to remain seated through a third pass, they dismounted and the fight continued. The game would end only when one man contacted the other's heart area.

The combatants circled each other with swords and shields raised. Somewhat shorter and leaner than the Blue Knight, Black had the advantage of greater agility. The two knights put on a show that Tarla was convinced the fans would be talking about for months.

Unexpectedly, Blue used his shield as a discus and flung it at Black's knees. Black succeeded in leaping high enough to avoid the twirling metal but lost his footing and fell backward into the dirt.

Seizing the opportunity, Blue whirled his sword toward Black's heart. The final trumpet blared, signaling that the sensor device in the armor had detected a direct hit. The score had been twenty to eighteen, in favor of the Black Knight. But the win went to the Blue Knight.

Wild cheering filled the Arena as the Black Knight knelt before the victor. Without revealing his identity, the defeated knight remounted his waiting black stallion and rode off the field.

The Blue Knight trotted his white mount around the playing area, waving to the crowd then headed for the locker room.

Tarla waited patiently in the lobby for her champion. She supposed more than a hot shower occupied him. Undoubtedly, there was a throng of backslappers hanging around and, being all male, and a political creature at that, Rom could not resist their attentions. A night like this could add a little more sparkle to his campaign, not that his image needed it, Tarla thought.

Rom exited the locker room between two laughing men and Tarla greeted him across the room with an understanding smile.

She couldn't help thinking how very handsome he was. His hair, damp from the shower, looked jet-black and she knew his changeable eyes would be dark green in his happiness. When she had first met him, his potently masculine appearance had knocked her off balance. After that, however, the attraction had fizzled. Though she liked him as a special friend and admired him as her boss, she had accepted that there simply was no spark to their relationship.

She admitted to herself that she had done everything she could to create some heat between them. The times she had maneuvered him into coupling with her lacked something she thought should be there. Not that there was anything really wrong with him. His sexual skills were perfect and he had easily brought her to a satisfying release, but she could do that much without him. She had realized his emotions were not involved in the physical activity and that had left her feeling very unsettled. He had even seemed surprised when she had encouraged their becoming physically intimate.

Tarla had quickly discovered her competition and knew there was no contesting it. His work was his mistress and his political aspirations the only future to which he gave any lingering thought. Rom was never rude or inconsiderate but at times she thought she was working for an android. Only on rare occasions, like tonight, did he relax enough to have any fun.

"Sorry it took me so long," he said when he finally extricated himself from the two men.

"That's okay. I figured you were fighting off your fans in the locker room."

"Actually those guys were only part of it. I also took a few minutes in the whirlpool. My body already feels like I was run over by a marsh bull."

"And you loved every minute of it. Listen, why not come back to my place? We could have dinner and if you're real nice, you might get a massage."

Romulus laughed and put an arm around her shoulders. "You don't have to ask me twice. I don't think I could keep up this charade much longer."

Being pulled to his side as they walked made Tarla aware of the other thing that nagged at her when she was with Rom. She knew she was slender but she was hardly a stick, and at five foot three she had never thought of herself as a dwarf. Rom towered over her by a full twelve inches, making her feel like a miniature person. Some women liked feeling that way but, it only made her feel invisible.

By the time they entered her apartment, he had already recounted each detail of the game at least twice. "I cannot believe how great that guy was. He played the part of the Black Knight better than anyone I've ever seen, dirty tricks and all. I asked around but no one admitted to knowing which trainer he was. I guess it adds to the mystique of the game. One of these days I'll figure it out, though, and I'll take him on again. I think I should be ready in about two years." They both laughed heartily as he collapsed on the couch with an enormous groan.

Tarla gave her facilities manager their dinner instructions and, a few minutes later, set a platter of appetizers in front of her guest. "I heard from my father, the bigot, today."