“Your halifi!” Jerekiel gasped.
“You’re injured!” Achanei said wide-eyed. “Why haven’t the nanomechs started to heal you?”
Aiben shook his head, “I don’t know what Nairom did to me. I can’t get them close to the wound without them shutting down.”
Achanei sent Jiab running to fetch a medkit from the launch. She took Aiben’s arm and pulled the rest of the makeshift dressing away. It was still wet and sticky in some places and bits of cloth adhered to damaged flesh. Jiab returned with the antiseptic and bandages and Achanei began cleaning and dressing the wound.
“Why would he do this?” Jerekiel pressed.
“The halifi appeared on my arm because Tulan’s nanomechs had gathered there and saturated my skin.” Aiben gritted his teeth and endured the sting of Achanei’s topical ministrations. There was no help from his nanomechs. “They were waiting to bond with im shalal.”
“Judging by the lesion then, Nairom has more than just im shalal.” Lev-9 inspected Aiben’s arm as Achanei worked. “He has some of Tulan’s nanomechs, which means he most certainly has his genetic code.”
“What does that mean?” Neikkia asked. Her nose twitched.
“He’s going to use those nanomechs to change his own genetic code so that he can use the weapon,” Aiben said.
Jerekiel’s face went white with disgust and horror. The Shelezar’hi’s cult of personality would ensure that Nairom’s actions would surmount to sacrilege among her people.
“But how long will it take Nairom to change himself into Tulan?” Achanei questioned. Not fear, but doubt drew her brows together.
“Tulan made me so that the Haman Consciousness could live again after Nograth’s defeat. In reality, though, Nairom just needs to encode enough genetic information into his arm for im shalal to attach before he can use it. With nanomechs, that won’t take more than a day.”
His admission pulled everyone into a black hole of dead silence. It wasn’t a bad thing that Magron Orcris would meet his destruction, that would have been the ultimate outcome of Aiben’s mission anyway, but the prospect of someone taking Aiben’s place, someone they knew they couldn’t trust, left everyone at a loss for words.
Finally, Aiben broke the silence. “I have the master code to Morgoloth’s hyperportal, but that’s all. Im shalal didn’t give me any instructions about how to reach Magron. Without Nairom’s security clearances, they will shoot us right out of orbit. Even if we could make it through their defenses, how would we find Nairom before it was too late?”
“I can help you get onto Morgoloth.” All eyes fell on Lev-9.
“How?” Jerekiel demanded.
“It’s time I tell you what I know.” Surprise, curiosity, and suspicion were all looking at the mechanoid. “Operatives from Tain-Balmor are at this very moment approaching Morgoloth with emissaries from House Feillion on the pretense of peace. In truth, they’ve amassed a force from House Feillion and the Expeditionary Guild to attack Morgoloth. Their mission is to create enough of a diversion to allow us to get through the hyperportal and planet-side with minimal chance of detection. They have intelligence that will help them knock out the planetary shield and allow us to get inside Magron’s stronghold. We have never needed Nairom.”
“You and Oand-ib planned this.” It wasn’t a question. Aiben ran a trembling hand through his coarse brush of cropped hair. Where was Tulan’s steadfastness now?
“Yes,” Lev-9 said.
“Did you say House Feillion?” Achanei asked. “My family’s involved? Why haven’t I heard anything about this?”
“Your family’s flag ship, Queen Tenok, under the command of Fleet Admiral Geth Atregis is on a course for the Protectorate’s homeworld right now. In fact, the entire ruse of a peace mission was your father’s idea to begin with. He approached Tain-Balmor for assistance in planning the assault. As Oand-ib’s friend and confidant, I recognized that the situation could also serve the needs of the Hegirith’hi Shez’s mission for Aiben. Tain-Balmor’s chief executive officer was in agreement with my assessment. In turn, the Cybermancer Guild gave the fleet some much needed leads to someone here in the military on Mora Bentia willing to sell them information on Morgoloth’s offensive and defensive capabilities.”
Achanei shot a sharp look at the two Oobellians standing beside her, but they shook their heads helplessly.
“Why didn’t you say something before now, Lev?” Aiben asked. “I’ve lost count of how many days we’ve been here. For that matter, why didn’t you tell me about this part of the plan as soon as we left Besti?” Aiben was able to keep from sounding angry only because he thought he already knew the answer.
“Oand-ib instructed me not to. He suspected Nairom had become an agent of the Zenzani. Now we know that to be true. He was afraid if you knew too soon, Nairom might find out from you and flush the entire ploy out into the open. I agreed to tell you only after you found im shalal and I knew it was safe. I believe that time is now.”
“You did the right thing then, Lev. Nairom only knew as much as I did, and he’d already learned that from Hegirith Oand-ib himself.”
“How long has Queen Tenok been underway?” Achanei wanted to know.
“They have been forced to travel across Morgoloth’s solar system in normal space for several days already. Magron allowed them to enter only through a second hyperportal, which we suspect he somehow moved there from another planet. I took the liberty of copying the master hyperportal code from the ship’s computer when we arrived at Mora Bentia and I have been communicating with them on hypernet frequencies bought from the Cybermancer Guild’s intelligence lead. Unfortunately, I’ll lose that contact when they reach orbit due to tighter security measures.”
“How long is it until they start this diversion they’ve promised us?” Aiben asked.
Lev-9 was silent for a few seconds. He wasn’t sure if the mechanoid was calculating a reply or just hesitating. He had known sentient mechanoids to do the latter but claim the former.
“It is set for thirty hours and twelve standard minutes from now. I will spare you the seconds.”
“And what about the second part of our problem?” Jerekiel wondered. “How do we find and stop the heretic in time?”
This time, no one had an answer.
CHAPTER 38
It was already difficult enough that Aiben would be leaving Ballis behind, but parting with Jerekiel was proving to be harder than he thought it would be too. Presently, only the two of them stood in the desert night between House Feillion’s launch and the Keazil’hi’s transport. They lingered on the threshold of a moment neither of them wanted to face.
A strong wind picked up across the desert floor as the western sun completed its final descent below the horizon. It grabbed hold of Aiben’s ripped shirt and buffeted it against him. Jerekiel pulled back her black hair and tied it with a leather cord, but the wind caught its ends and fanned it out behind her like a great wing. She looked at home in the desert with her bronze skin and those high cheekbones, which would deflect the sun’s glare from her almond-colored eyes. She had discarded her armor and stood there in a black, skin-tight body suit, but still clutched her weapon at her side. Her well-toned muscles flowed beneath the garment like gentle waves in a dark sea of fabric.
“Iniri’ki Hegirith...” Jerekiel’s mouth turned up heavy-heartedly; the kind of smile that didn’t want to say good-bye, but did.
I’m not a Hegirith. Aiben’s thoughts sought hers. Remember, I’m just a halath thrust into circumstances beyond my control. That’s more evident now than ever.
Her glowing eyes narrowed at him. I will be the Shelezar soon. It wouldn’t be appropriate in the eyes of our people for me to call you anything other than Hegirith.
Change your ways then.
Titles don’t really matter anyway, that is who you are to us now. You have already taught us so much about the true nature of our people and shalal hiliz. Im shalal is only but a small portion
of the whole. The wind drove the fan of black hair over her shoulder and into her face. She wrestled to retie it as if it were a thing living that desired to strangle her. You will feel differently about yourself when you return to help us rebuild the Consciousness.
I don’t know about that, Shelezar. If I come back, I’m not sure who I’ll be then. For the first time since Aiben had come to understand the fullness of his destiny, his arm burned with that old bone-deep pain of uncertainty. He rubbed it over the bandage that Achanei had wrapped around it, but it didn’t help.
You shouldn’t call me Shelezar yet either. There was some slight reddening under that bronze complexion. I still have to prove to the five ilud’hi that I can recite the history of father Tulan and mother Jerekiel.
That part of the story Aiben hadn’t shared with his companions. The Shelezar’hi had kept the knowledge alive that ancient Jerekiel had been Tulan’s wife. Tulan’s memory was quite vivid where she was concerned. He had adored her. Pain had hammered his heart when she had left with im shalal. She had been one of only two members of their council that Tulan knew he could trust implicitly and he had given her charge of the one thing that could most shape or destroy the destiny of their people. Why didn’t he foresee it would do both?
I would like to hear those stories sometime, Aiben thought to her.
How much this Jerekiel, so many generations removed from the mother of the ilud’hi, resembled Tulan’s Jerekiel from so long ago! Another shot of bone-searing pain brought his hand back to the gauze bandage Achanei had applied. Aiben looked back over his shoulder and saw that his fellow cybermancer was leaning in the launch’s hatchway, watching them, her mouth turning down, her forehead wrinkling into a frown. Aiben felt a small twinge of guilt, but he had already admitted to himself that he loved Achanei, not Jerekiel.
Then you’ll have to return to us no matter what happens.
The wind yanked a strand of the bound up fan free so it could whip against her cheek. Suddenly, she lurched forward and threw her arms around him. All of the emotions Aiben had found in himself, in Tulan, for her, which he had been repressing the past several days, spilled out and he held her tight and close. Finally, after several seconds, she put a hand to his chest and pushed them apart.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said, her voice controlled.
She spun around and jogged back to her transport. Aiben didn’t linger either, he didn’t want the hurt to have time to mature. He returned to House Feillion’s launch without even looking back to see if Jerekiel had boarded her transport. Achanei had already disappeared inside.
CHAPTER 39
High up in orbit, above Mora Bentia’s hyperportal, Nairom watched as his combat sensors molded a holographic mock-up of the main military complex spinning around Mora Bentia below him. Several wings of fighters and landing craft, their thrusters giving birth to new stars in the blackness, jostled out of their launch bays and sunk into the planet’s atmosphere. Each one bore the colors and ensigns of Commander Gorontol’s elite forces.
Protectorate command had given Mora Bentia’s naval commander the choice to obey the planet’s governor, a Moolag that had made him fat and rich off the spoils of corruption, or Magron Orcris, the man to whom he owed his military allegiance and life. Nairom knew Selat had planned it so it appeared as if the Moolag had botched the job of capturing the escaped renegades from Besti.
The governor’s security logs proved that Selat had reason to get rid of him and this was the perfect opportunity to do it. Gorontol wouldn’t know the details, and wouldn’t want to know either. The military man had chosen the right side, no matter the cost to his coffers, since it meant retaining life and limb. It was very clear who the winner in this tête-à-tête would be.
It was certain the Moolag couldn’t muster sufficient forces in time to stand toe to toe with Gorontol’s attack, let alone repel it. Even if he could order the planet-side garrison into such quick action, the Protectorate troops on the ground still wouldn’t be in his favor without having first emptied out his bank account to make certain of their devotion. Instead, Zenzani troops would fall upon the Moolag’s estate and begin to tear it apart bit by bit. Nairom doubted they would find the conniving hydrosapien waiting for them. Spymasters had schooled the creature for too many years in the art of subterfuge. That perhaps was his only real asset.
New buds of light blossomed in the holographic display as several additional ships sprang up into low orbit. Nairom traced their trajectories back to the Moolag’s estate. They would be the few remaining ships loyal to the governor, but he knew it was just cover to fool everyone into believing they were secreting away the shelled slug in an attempted escape.
The group of spacecraft transferred to a higher orbit, sliding along a course that would intersect with the hyperportal. In reaction, a wing of Gorontol’s space forces corrected course, stepped in between the fleeing ships and the hypertransit gateway, and pushed them back towards the planet. They would leave nothing behind but sliced up hulls to burn up in Mora Bentia’s unforgiving atmosphere.
Nairom’s interest in the skirmish began to wane even before the wing of fighters finished their job. He would never see those final moments where fire streaked space with ignited gas. Instead, he was studying the familiar silhouette of a small launch, its curves called out the designs House Feillion found stylish. The female Oobellian pilot had placed the small ship into an orbit that would allow it to slip into the hyperportal. No one would even notice amidst the spectacle and confusion of the battle until it was too late.
He shook his head and muttered aloud to the emptiness of his cockpit, “He’s not giving up. I should have expected Oand-ib’s idealism would be infectious. I guess I’m going to have to kill him after all.”
He flicked a switch on his heads-up display and the combat scene dissolved away. The focused light re-coalesced after a few seconds into the view of a private chamber on Morgoloth. Selat was there in the shadows.
“Nairom!” Pale light welted the abraded skin of Selat’s face with jittering shadows as he drew closer to the holoreceiver.
“So surprised to see me Selat? Did you think perhaps I had betrayed you and gotten myself killed in the act?”
Selat stuttered a hiss. It was like the sound of a strangled serpent. “No, my boy, it’s not that at all. I’m happy to see you. My contacts told me the governor had one of his men kill you. I’m glad that information was wrong.” He paused long enough to crumple his face into a wicked gaze. “I’m afraid I’ve acted a little too rashly, though. I have already sent our troops after the Moolag to avenge you. No matter, what’s done is done.” The stuttering hiss evolved into a throat-choking laugh.
Nairom forced himself not to look disgusted at the pathetic display. He still had to play the part of the obedient servant for a while more, at least. Soon enough, though, Magron’s fetid dog would wish the Moolag or his ratty had indeed killed him.
“Yes, let’s forget about that useless lump of shell. Whatever his part in all of this was, it’s over now, and we’re still on track with the plan.”
“You have it then?” Selat’s blood-shot eyes glimmered with lust.
“I’ve got it.” The creature’s covetous look bothered Nairom. His arm was starting to ache, a deep down bone-ache, and it made him feel a bit impudent. “Just make sure Magron is where we agreed at the right time.”
“Oh, I will, my boy.” Selat mocked. “And what about Hezit? Will he arrive on time as well?”
“He’s on his way right now.”
“Good, we understand each other then. Supreme Commander Nairom.”
Nairom killed the display and cut off Selat in the middle of another depraved outburst. The light beams that had been sculpting that putrid face now ripped it apart photon by photon.
Let’s see how he likes being cut off abruptly, Nairom gloated.
***
Nairom’s holographic avatar dispersed like a thousand little translucent fis
h scattered by a stone thrown in a pond. Selat lapsed back into his halted hissing.
“It looks like I still need to keep my little rat in the hole. I might need her services later.” His eyes darted around the shadows, searching. The twin crimson darts found their mark and sped towards the Agar Hegirith sitting in the corner of the room. Selat’s rotting face shook in mock regret. “What a pathetic little puppet Nairom has become, eh? You of all people should understand what that means.”
Magron Orcris glared at Selat, but refused to answer as Selat choked out another ugly laugh.
CHAPTER 40
A launch belonging to one of the oldest Noble Houses in the Seven Guilds, crewed by a small group of renegades from Protectorate authority, hung just inside the mouth of hyperspace. The ship’s occupants had been crammed in the small quarters together for almost thirty standard hours and everyone’s patience was wearing thin.
“Isn’t it about time yet?” Jiab squirmed in his flight couch.
“The time appointed for us to exit hyperspace is exactly ten standard minutes after the hole in Morgoloth’s planetary shield opens for the bogus peace envoy,” Lev-9 explained for the second time to the anxious Oobellian. “One of the ships is carrying seeker missiles that are programmed to bring down the planetary shield generator. Once they’re on their way, forces from Tain-Balmor and House Feillion will start the diversion, and we’ll enter the system and make a run for the planet under their cover.”
“And it’s going to be that easy too.” Achanei rolled her eyes.
“Indeed,” Lev-9 opined. “However, since there has been a disruption in the plan, Aiben will need to connect with Nairom over the hypernet and talk him out of what he is doing and get him to return the device before it is too late.”
Achanei snorted. Ever since leaving Mora Bentia, she had been noticeably cynical of their situation.