The Zygan Emprise: Renegade Paladins and Abyssal Redemption (27 page)

The Andart’s blood had seeped through the
cloth pressed against his wound, and a few drops landed on the lush
burgundy carpet. Noting the Andart’s misfortune, Benedict put his
stylus down and looked up sharply over his reading glasses. I
thought I saw something flash in his eyes for a fraction of a
second. He glanced at us, then turned back to the Andart.

“You may go,” he said quietly, with a tone
that made me shiver under my fur.

The Andart flushed, and ran out of the
cottage in hyperdrive.

Benedict looked directly at us now and, in
the same tone, instructed, "Please sit.”

We sat. I noted that Spud had been using the
intervening time to sniff around the room a bit, pausing
momentarily at tomes by Plato, Dante, Quinn, and C. S. Lewis. He
took a leather chair by the fireplace where he could watch both
Benedict and the door clearly. Burr/Matshi grabbed the chair
closest to Benedict and sat on the edge of its seat as if ready to
pounce. Plionarctos/Pallas and I settled in on the floor, our backs
protected, resting against the paneled walls.

Benedict studied Spud for a few minutes, then
said, with a puzzling trace of irony, “Escott, eh? So it is.”

Benedict then leaned back in his executive
armchair and eyed Burr. Matshi returned the steady gaze.

“I never thought
you’d
be the one,”
Benedict said. “But, nicely done.”

“Thank you. My pleasure,” Burr/Matshi said
broadly, before glancing at me for a second with a silent
question.

I looked away. Benedict seemed to be
observing us as intently as Spud usually does on a chase, and I
didn’t want to raise any suspicions. In any case, I was equally
puzzled by Benedict’s praise.

Suddenly, the ground shifted under me and I
was knocked hard against the wall. A very strong earthquake was
causing the house to shudder for what seemed like an eternity. I
was thrown back on the carpet and struggled to keep from sliding on
the floor. The weight of an elephant compressed my chest and made
me gasp for breath. The intensity of the trembling (beyond my own,
of course) soon diminished, but I continued to feel a strong
vibration under my legs and trunk. I caught the eyes of
Plionarctos/Pallas, equally disheveled by the quake. Matshi and
Spud had chair arms to hold on to and were faring a bit better.

Finally, the vibration lessened and I was
able to return to my sitting position and face our host.

“I am sorry,” Benedict began again, “but
launch is always a little rough.”

Launch? I nodded, trying not to look
confused.

“Just the dome, or the entire planet?” Spud
asked.

“Very good, Escott, but it’s really not a
planet,” was the response. “Just a very, very large ship.”

Matshi and I looked at each other. Of course!
HDWhatever-it-was was a huge ship, Benedict’s mobile base. And now,
it was on the move…

Spud was making some calculations with his
Ergal. “I would estimate that our eventual target is a
gravitational singularity in the most distal octant of M81.”

“A bit more proximal, but yes,” Benedict said
with a hint of a smile. “Octant 6.”

“Now I have a question,” Benedict continued
pleasantly, maintaining his steady gaze at us. “Why have you
allowed Escott here to keep his Ergal?”

Oops.

“Burr” jumped in, angry. “These Andarts, they
are worthless!” He turned in my direction and gestured for me to
take it from Spud. “You see, it is always up to us to protect you
from the Zygans.”

I took the Ergal and slipped it into the
pocket of my tunic, adding dramatically, “Vigilance is a
virtue.”

To my surprise, Benedict laughed. “Always
alliterating, are you?”

“What do you mean?” I said, nervous.

“Really, Rush,” he returned. “A good disguise
demands more than a change in appearance. I have studied you all.
Alliteration is one of your tells.”

Oh, God.

Benedict then looked at Burr. “You … must be
Matshi.” He smiled. “Ulenem spoke very highly of you.”

Matshi gritted his teeth and said
nothing.

I inched my fingers toward my Ergal.

“Don’t,” Benedict snarled, “bother. I
disabled all your Ergals when you arrived. Gary always kept me well
updated on your equipment upgrades.”

I was ready to say something, but Benedict
raised a hand. His voice was cold. “I know. You have been …very
lucky.” Disturbingly, his tone seemed to imply a conscious use of
the past tense.

“May I have the ring?” Benedict added, in a
tone that made his request sound very much like an order.

I didn’t bother with the, “What ring?” If
Benedict wasn’t bluffing, then the ring was useless to us. If he
was bluffing, I now had a momentary opportunity to try to take the
advantage. I shrugged, and casually reached into the pocket where I
had secreted Gary’s ring, and, with a warning glance at Spud and
Pallas, used my claw to activate it.

Instantly—nothing happened. Gary’s superErgal
was dead. Annoyed, I pulled it out of my tunic and laid it sharply
on Benedict’s desk.

Benedict smiled, and picked up the ring,
slipping it onto his hand. “Nice to have it back again,” he said
quietly. “Thank you.”

Frustrated, I plunked back down on the floor
and did not respond.

Spud decided to take a chance. “Tell me,
then. Theoretically, how might one uncover mutes?”

“Theoretically, I don’t have to uncover
them,” Benedict said calmly. “I simply had to rescan the Kharybdian
ship that’s now following ours.” He leaned forward and favored us
with a piercing gaze. “I noted that, peculiarly, it also had a
Burr, a Plionarctos, and an Agriarctos on board. Deducing the rest
was not difficult.”

Doomed. We were so doomed. I cradled my head
in my hands.

Benedict sat back again and crossed his arms
upon his chest. “Well then, it seems as if we are at a decision
point.”

We didn’t respond.

He looked at each of us in turn. “Are you
with us?” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Or, dead?”

Chapter 20

Eve

Benedict pressed a light on his desk and we
were immediately surrounded by a large corps of Andarts who
M-fanned with stun guns aimed at us and set to kill. I noted that
one of the Andarts was our injured escort, whose wound had now been
sealed and was no longer seeping.

Still playing the genial host, Benedict
advised us that we would each be escorted to different sections of
the cottage, where we would have an opportunity to reflect on and
discuss our future. The planet-vessel’s voyage to its destination
would take a few hours. Our “planet ship” was obviously not a
Sportstar. Benedict wrapped up by telling us that he hoped our
business could be concluded by the time we arrived.

Doomed.

After being relieved of my now useless Ergal
and weapons, I was led by three Andarts back into the main hall and
through a large wooden door on its left. Spud, Pallas, and Matshi
were all taken away through three different doors in, I assumed,
three different directions and lost to my sight.

I was marched down a long hallway, my guards
pushing me forward anytime I tried to slow my pace and observe my
surroundings. The corridor seemed infinite. After walking for over
ten minutes, I reckoned we must’ve long left the cottage and
perhaps even the dome itself. Finally, we arrived at a turret with
multiple doors—all of them windowless and closed. I didn’t see
either door handles or knobs, and none of the doors seemed to have
locks. I leaned casually against the door next to me, but it
wouldn’t budge, even with force.

The Andarts marched over to a steel door
farther around to my right. One of them took out a silver
instrument that resembled the half of an orange that Gary had swept
over my head as he attempted to raid my neurocache on the
Sportstar. The door opened without a sound, and the rest of my
guards shoved me into a bare windowless cell with an open toilet, a
three-legged wooden stool, and a small cot. Remaining outside, they
closed the door and left me there alone.

After exhaling, I did the usual Catascope 101
stuff, checking the door and the rest of the room to see if I could
escape. That never works, you know—bad guys aren’t stupid. What’s
the point of setting up a prison cell if your prisoner can easily
get out? Unless you want him to. Which, unfortunately, Benedict
didn’t. So—no surprise--the door was quite locked, without slits
through which I could squeeze a makeshift crowbar from the
available furniture. I lay down on the cot. I would have to wait
for my opportunity to run.

The one bright light on the horizon,
literally, was Eikhus’s ship following us. If Nephil Stratum had
been monitoring Benedict with her gem, they could be aware that we
were in trouble. With the two Ytrans and the two remaining Megarans
to help, they might be able to mount a rescue mission. I could only
hope. I closed my eyes, and, with John’s words about patience
echoing once again in my ears, prepared to wait.

A warm breeze caressed my face. I opened my
eyes and found myself lying on cool grass in a forest of tall
pines. Streaks of light shone through the branches and trunks of
the trees, which formed a radiant cathedral ceiling. I breathed the
pleasing scent for a few minutes, enjoying the peace of the spot,
before remembering that I was a prisoner and that it would behoove
me to get up and find out where I was. Quickly. A rapid visual and
aural scan of my location told me I still seemed to be alone,
except for a few chirping insects that I hoped I wouldn’t step
on—or even catch a glimpse of, thank you very much. I trotted among
the trees along a well-trod path for several yards before I came
upon a clearing, surrounded by tall grass. Ducking low behind it, I
couldn’t easily be seen. The whispers I was hearing up ahead
sounded like more than the wind.

Peeking through the stalks, in the field
beyond, I spied three men, their backs to me. One was crouching
over an unusual instrument the size of a large suitcase. He stood
up, and, to my alarm, I saw it was Benedict. The second man nodded
at Benedict and pointed to a pair of trees beyond the clearing a
few yards away. I briefly saw his profile and my eyes widened. It
was Wart! But it was the third man who really drew my attention. He
seemed to be wearing a spacesuit similar to the ones Spud and I had
used fleeing our ship, except that it was completely covered by
what looked like a… a Golden Fleece!

Benedict adjusted some settings on his
instrument and gave a thumbs-up sign to his suited colleague.
Suddenly the man was outlined by a blinding light. I was too far
away to see many details, but I did observe the space-suited man
pull … the Somalderis? … tighter around him, and turn to Benedict
and Wart and return the thumbs-up sign.

I could barely see the voyager’s features
through the suit’s visor before he disappeared, but I didn’t have
to. I instantly knew who the other man was. An overwhelming agony
lanced through my heart. The traveler working alongside Benedict
was my brother John.

I heard my voice screaming, “Nooo!”

* * *

I sat up, blinking, eyes brimming with tears.
Where was I? Oh, yes, Benedict’s cell. My brother’s face behind the
spacesuit visor flashed before me: John! And Benedict! I shivered.
Impossible! It was only a nightmare. It had to be. John would never
… I looked around the room. Benedict!

“I see you had a nice nap,” Benedict smiled
from his precarious perch on the rickety stool.

I brushed the moistness from my face.
“Haven’t slept much in the last few days,” I said dully, my eyes
darting to the door.

“It’s still locked,” Benedict informed me. “I
Ergaled in, quietly. Didn’t want to disturb your … dream.”

I looked up, astounded. How did he know
…?

“Your brother was one of my best men,”
Benedict continued. “You could follow in his footsteps.”

I physically jerked back. No! Not John! Never
John!

Through clenched teeth I responded bitterly,
“What could I give you?” I added with a snort. “The
Somalderis?”

“Thank you,” Benedict said inexplicably.
“Now, I would like your help with His Highness.”

I stared at him, incredulous. The man was
totally out of his mind. Aside from the fact that the Omega Archon
never, ever left Zyga, he was, without a doubt, the most protected
being in all of Zygfed. Me, a junior catascope, would get Benedict
the Traitor access to our King? Come on.
Really
.

Still, I’d come from Hollywood. I’d heard
crazier. Taking a cue from my agent’s playbook once again, I leaned
back and narrowed my eyes, “And then what?”

“Then, we will share a singular experience,”
Benedict chuckled. “Now that we have our Somalderis.”

* * *

The idea that Benedict and his minions had
somehow beat us in the quest for the Fleece was disturbing enough,
but Benedict’s claim that John had been part of his team had
devastated me. Impossible, absolutely impossible! The brother I
knew and loved would never have joined ranks with an avowed killer.
What could have made something so unlikely happen? It had to be a
lie. It had to. A lie to make me cooperate, perhaps?

Well, then, maybe I should play. Pretending
to go along with Benedict could buy me some valuable time. A course
change from M81 to Andromeda and the Omega Archon would give us
another few hours during which Eikhus and his team could attempt a
rescue. Hours during which I could answer the unsettling questions
my dream had engendered.

Apparently, and wisely, Benedict didn’t
entirely trust me, I wasn’t given back my Ergal and weapons. But at
least, using yet a different color of half
orange—platinum--Benedict reversed my mute and turned me back into
my lithe self. It was, I had to admit, a relief to be out of
Agriarctos’ hulky body.