***
Guron’s eyes darted to the receiver in his palm—a faint light flashed there, its green throb vivid in the dark. He cursed silently, stifling a grunt as he pushed up from his squat position. He slipped forward through the chill shadows to peer round the corner of the alcove. A string of bulbs spaced widely down the center of the corridor cast a spotted pattern, and Guron squinted down the fading trail of light. In short time he became aware of faint footsteps approaching. Soon he was able to pick a vague figure out from the darkness, and he took note of the golden skullcap.
Lord Kal sa’n Alar strode past at a brisk pace and Guron began to move in his wake, shielded from view by the thick columns lining the shadowy corridor. Suddenly Zalar, the short, rotund scientist who was Prime on the Rejen project, rounded the corner in front of Lord Kal. Guron faded into deeper shadow as the scientist bustled purposefully forward, his billowing lab coat flapping wide with each waddling stride. He carried a large green folder under one arm.
“My Lord! I must speak with you!” Zalar exclaimed breathlessly. “We’ve recorded a significant success today—a major breakthrough!” Zalar stopped a few paces away from Kal, his expression of exuberance fading to puzzlement. “Zemplar? You are not attending the Council? I must present my findings to the gathered Advisors.”
Taken aback by the appearance of Zalar, Guron wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead. Could this be a chance foul–up? He’d expected another of his allegiance—Cronon’s deep-cover Security Guard—to be his foil on this blind-operations action. Certainly not the pompous and bungling Zalar. Unsure of himself, Guron listened carefully.
“The Council is formally adjourned for the evening, Zalar.” The Zemplar’s tone suggested distracted impatience. “Many of the Advisors have likely departed by now. What is it that you wish to present?”
“I must present to the entire council, my Lord.” Zalar spoke warily, and Guron nodded to himself—it was no secret that the Zemplar was no ally of the Rejen project.
“Ahh, Zalar. I suspect that you exaggerate? I’ll not reconvene the Council without good cause.” From the shadows Guron watched the large man straighten to his full height as he spoke in an officious tone. “I should advise you, Zalar, that a vote will take place at first light. It is my intent that our decision will mark the end of your project.”
Zalar’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped a full span. “M… my Lord!” he spluttered. “No! What I say is true—a breakthrough! I must present to the Council! Look! I will show you a summary!” Zalar motioned frantically for the Zemplar to join him under the modest light of a hanging bulb.
This is it! Guron was suddenly sure. There was to be a diversion to allow me to close unnoticed. Even inept Zalar is capable of diversion.
Zalar began to scrabble with his paperwork while Kal bent forward to look on, and Guron surged forward from his spot in the dark shadows. As he closed swiftly, silently, Zalar chanced to glance up. Realization dawned in his eyes, and he screamed “No!” just as Guron pounced.
The Zemplar had started to turn just as Guron slammed the injector against his neck and triggered it. Kal stiffened immediately, but still managed to catch Guron’s right arm in both hands. Guron stifled a cry of pain as the larger man fell to his knees, fingers tightening like bands of steel around his wrist and forearm. Guron’s mind reeled.
How can this be? No man can withstand such a toxin!
Lord Kal’s grip forced Guron to his knees, hunched over, his right arm pressed awkwardly to the floor. Guron fought to keep balance while scrabbling at his right side with his free hand, and he snatched free the d’arkblade sheathed there and thrust sideways in a gawky lunge at the Zemplar. Zalar, who stood frozen with a horrified expression, chose just that moment to intercede. The scientist darted in, shouting “It’s OFF! I—” but his words choked off as Guron’s clumsily thrust blade sank deep into his lower belly. Guron spat out a curse as Zalar peered down at the protruding weapon, his eyes wide in astonishment.
With his arms windmilling to either side Zalar screeched and fell backwards as Guron wrenched the blade free. A terrible weight pinned Guron’s arm to the floor at an excruciating angle, and there was a distinct snap as the bone finally yielded. Guron screamed and again thrust the d’arkblade.
The blade sunk deep, and with a spastic muscle contraction Lord Kal dragged Guron inward. Now face to face on their knees Guron saw the briefest glimmer of understanding in the Zemplar’s eyes, and then Lord Kal’s head wrenched forward like a steam-driven piston. Guron’s nose burst in a spray of blood and his head snapped backwards, his vision flashing dark and bright. He collapsed limp to the stone floor, only vaguely aware of the single hand still clamped around his ruined arm.
From where he lay, dazed, Guron willed his fluttering eyes to see, and through blurred vision and a film of blood he saw the Zemplar tottering, head drooped forward, blood coursing around the slender dagger lodged in his chest. And then Guron felt the living strength of the man’s grip go limp as he toppled forward. Guron screamed as the hilt of the d’arkblade jammed into his pelvis and the fallen deadweight shoved the blade on through the Zemplar’s torso. Struggling to draw breath, Guron raised his head to peer fuzzily over the lifeless bulk that pinned him. He blinked senselessly at the shiv, gleaming dull red, which protruded from the dead man’s back.
Guron’s vision faded from grey to black and the corridor fell silent, save the faint hammering of boots approaching at a dead run and the soft blubbering of Zalar, who lay splayed against the wall in a spreading pool of blood.
“I... I thought you were told.” Zalar gurgled softly as he sobbed. “It…. the plan… it was changed…. Rejen…………....”