‘My body is at your disposal anytime you’re ready,’ he said, glancing at Hawk to see what he was making of their dialogue.
‘Disposal would be the best thing for it.’ Hawk placed a protective arm about Tory’s shoulder and headed her to the hatchway. ‘I feel sure Swan has better things to do than catch your social diseases.’
Tory looked at Hawk, amused that he was defending her honour. ‘And what about your romantic endeavours, Captain?’ She allowed him to pull her close and fly her down into the Bil-me.
‘It helps if one has spent time in some form of society.’ He made light of his inexperience. ‘I’ve spent most of my life out here, on the run.’
Hawk looked about his vessel, now filled with children, and Tory suddenly realised why he’d been so reluctant about taking them on board. It must have been like viewing himself as a lad — it was the painful memories that weren’t welcome, not the children.
Hawk was pleasantly surprised when he suddenly found himself being hugged. ‘What’s this for?”
Tory pulled back, smiling broadly. ‘How does it feel to be a hero?’ she asked, and clearly, the captain hadn’t thought about what his decision meant to the children he’d just saved, who were now all staring adoringly up at him.
The hatch door closed behind Crow, who protested at Hawk getting all the credit. ‘I’m a hero too you know!’
A little child, who Crow had carted to the hold, came forward to hug his leg, and before they knew it, the three of them were caught in the grip of an island of little bodies.
The Governor had been led to a vacated house on the very outskirts of town, and although it appeared tiny from the outside, Brian was assured that a secret passage within led to a much larger dwelling.
‘I wouldn’t have looked in here,’ Rhun commented over Brian’s shoulder as they entered a small bathroom. Kesla and Adair, with a great heave, slid the entire bath forward to reveal a stairway underneath.
‘And where does this go?’ Talynn questioned suspiciously, feeling they were being led into the lion’s lair.
‘To safety,’ Samara informed surely, heading down the stairs with Brian in tow.
‘Come on.’ Rhun encouraged his teammate to loosen up. ‘It won’t kill us to trust these people, now will it?’
Talynn cracked a smile. She liked how cocky Rhun was, both in attitude and expression. Still, he knew that she executed her job better from a distance.
‘If it bothers you so much you can wait here,’ Rhun suggested, turning back to Adair and Kesla. ‘Alright by you guys?’
Both the Leonines were put on the spot. Kesla looked to Adair, who was obviously his superior.
‘And how do we know you’re not working for Nabu?’ Adair expressed their reluctance to agree.
‘How do we know you’re not?’ Talynn became very insistent. Rhun, being the good-natured individual he was, intervened.
‘Easy solved.’ His tone urged everyone to chill out. ‘Why don’t you leave Kesla here with Talynn?’ he asked Adair, who appeared happy with this. It was Talynn who protested.
‘But I may have errands to run,’ she stressed in a low tone.
Rhun was unaffected by her annoyance. ‘Well there’s no reason Kesla cannot go with you.’
Her eyes widened with objection. ‘I prefer to work alone.’ She made a final appeal.
‘Now is that any way to instill confidence in our new allies? If Kesla is a problem then ignore him,’ Rhun suggested, as he proceeded down the stairs.
Suddenly the Vice-Governor was not so amusing to Talynn and with a frustrated grunt, she headed back into the main part of the house as Kesla pushed the bath back into place.
The stairs led to a winding, earthen corridor that extended out in two directions. Brian and Rhun were led past several rooms filled with the living arrangements of a small resistance force. At the end of the passageway was a large operations room, where telecommunications equipment was spread around, although none of it was in use at this time. The twenty or so Leonines in the room were either reading, writing or cataloguing data on a few archaic PKA database systems — the soft-light screens of which had almost had their day.
All present in the room gave a cheer as Brian entered, believing him to be Tyrus-Leon, their enslaved leader, returned to them unharmed. Brian felt truly undeserving of the goodwill they bestowed on him. How was he supposed to handle this?
‘Don’t get too excited,’ Samara warned her people. ‘This is not Tyrus-Leon.’ As she turned her accusing gaze Brian’s way, her associates backed away from the impostor.
Praise the Goddess for that, thought Brian, relieved that he didn’t have to keep up the charade, as he’d never been a very good actor. ‘There has been a case of mistaken identity,’ he confessed, and Rhun rolled his eyes in despair as Brian relinquished his cover at the first opportunity.
‘He admits it!’ Adair was pleased to have his first instinct verified.
Brian assumed his true form, which sent everyone in the room another step backwards, except for Adair and his mother, who stood their ground.
‘Who are you?’ Samara’s eyes narrowed. She’d never actually seen one of the Chosen Ones before, but the man before her certainly fitted the description.
‘My name is Brian Alexander,’ he gently confessed. ‘I am the reigning Governor of Ki—’
‘Lahmu!’ Samara cried out in horror, whereupon every Leonine in the room dropped to the ground to cower at his feet.
Bemused by this turn of events, Brian looked to Rhun, who was grinning broadly. Brian gave his nephew a stern look, thinking he might have had something to do with his predicament.
‘Come on,’ Rhun defended, having not been out of his uncle’s sight since they’d arrived. ‘I’m good, but I ain’t that good.’ He resumed his true appearance also. ‘I swear, I don’t know where they got it from.’
Brian knelt down to try and raise Samara and found that she was silently weeping. ‘Why are you crying, Samara-Leon?’
‘You exist,’ she mumbled.
‘Well, if my existence is going to upset you like this, I shall have to do away with myself,’ he joked and Samara laughed, although she did not rise.
‘Look at me,’ Brian urged, and although she allowed him to tilt her head upwards, she averted her large golden eyes.
‘But you are a God,’ she gasped, hyperventilating with the fear and exhilaration of being this close to the legend.
‘True,’ Brian was reluctant to admit. ‘But to you and your people I am not a God to be feared … for I was once a mortal just as you are.’
The lioness slowly turned her eyes his way. ‘Please forgive my offensive —’
Brian placed a finger to her lips to stop her apology. ‘I was the one attempting to deceive you … although not very well, it seems. Nevertheless, if anyone should apologise, it should be me.’
‘The prophecy unfolds,’ she mumbled, as silent tears of relief rolled down her face. You do have a caring heart, she inwardly observed.
‘So it would seem.’ Brian forced a smile, then frowned. ‘How is it that you know of my connection to the legend of Lahmu?’
‘The same way everybody knows,’ Adair said.
‘Adair.’ Samara reprimanded him for speaking out of turn, but Brian urged them all to stand.
‘No, please speak freely. We can hardly win a revolution on our knees with no communication.’ Brian used humour to appeal to their sense of reason.
Rhun was rather impressed, as the mood in the room lightened considerably and everyone rose to a humble, although upstanding, position. Brian had a greater knack for diplomacy than he gave himself credit for.
‘So, Adair,’ Brian motioned the young man forth, ‘tell me about your source of information?’
‘The pirate broadcaster, Nova, has been keeping every outlaw and resistance movement in the known galaxy informed of your defiance of Nergal,’ Adair advised in an admiring fashion. ‘Did you really tell Nergal that he could stick his seat in —’
‘Adair!’ Samara insisted he’d gone too far.
Brian looked to Rhun, worried that the account was a little too accurate.
His Vice, however, was struggling to suppress his complete rapture; they couldn’t have bought this kind of publicity. ‘He sure did,’ Rhun answered Adair’s question enthusiastically. ‘And do you know what else Lahmu told Nergal?’
‘Rhun!’ Brian sternly cut him short, and then softened his expression. ‘Do we have to make this worse than it already is?’ When Rhun nodded, Brian pulled Adair aside. ‘Where will I find this Nova person?’
‘But … I thought you knew him?’ Adair was confused. ‘Nova gives that impression,’ he explained, and the Leonines around him agreed.
Brian and Rhun both frowned as this news was most curious.
‘In answer to your original question, my Lord,’ Samara spoke up, ‘no one knows where to find Nova. He must stay anonymous and on the move in order to elude Pantheon detection. He broadcasts via a by-directional laser-optic datalink he has with our system. But Nova only downloads when he has an update.’
‘So, he downloads his broadcast and then any reports you have for him are uploaded to the source.’ Brian was familiar with this old method of transferring data through deep space, for wave frequencies dissipated in the vacuum. This process converted data into a laser-optic pulse bullet that plotted a course around stationary obstacles to a designated receiver. Still, unpredictable space phenomena like comets and dust clouds were always interfering with these transmissions. These days a synchronous photon-optic linking system was used, which moved data infinitely faster and there was less chance of data being lost or damaged in transit.
‘I know you must be thinking that our means are very archaic.’ Adair guessed the Gods were too polite to mention the fact. ‘But this old system is very specific to Nova’s needs, for its laser is powered by what my grandfather, the first exponent of the Leonine resistance on Nugia, used to call “smart rocks”.’
‘Smart rocks?’ Rhun grinned at the term.
‘I swear, it’s true,’ Adair insisted. His mother stepped in to explain.
‘The Lord Marduk was aware that minerals had intelligence, but unlike the human soul-mind, it is a collective consciousness that encompasses the entire deposit. After much investigation into fourth-dimension minerals the Lord discovered one that he named a telestial crystal, for it had an extraordinary talent —’
‘Let me guess,’ Rhun smiled, thinking the idea outlandish, ‘telepathy.’
‘Indeed,’ Samara answered surely, as she could tell the Gods were in doubt. ‘When Marduk brought forth a huge chunk of the telestial rock into the physical realm, he discovered that the main body of the rock could telepathically find the smallest splinter of itself, no matter how far removed in space the splintered fragment was from the mother stone. The reason this system serves Nova so well is that, even if a resistance movement is adrift in space, as the pirate DJ is himself, Nova can still locate and transmit to his mobile targets. Every time a new resistance force forms, Nova sends them a transmitter and a receiver.’
Rhun wasn’t looking sceptical now, and raised his eyebrows, impressed by the pirate’s generosity. ‘He is certainly a person of means then,’ he decided, as these communications systems couldn’t have been cheap to put together and God knows how many the DJ had distributed. ‘But how does he know if the rebel force is legitimate?’
‘Oh, the Pantheon receive his transmissions.’ Samara implied that spies were not a problem. In fact, she made it sound as if the DJ welcomed their attention. ‘Nova has always moved on by the time the Nefilim can trace him and give chase.’
As these transmissions could equal the dimensions of a fist-sized ball of light, depending on how much data they were carrying, and were, in appearance, not unlike tiny shooting stars as they raced between transmitter and receiver, Brian had to wonder. ‘So how do you prevent your data linkup being seen?’
‘Our receivers and transmitting beacons are built into the far side of the Su canyon,’ Adair advised. ‘We need the cover of night to prevent the Pantheon’s air surveillance spotting our set up. We have a cloaking device that projects an image of the steep canyon cliffs and camouflages our equipment by day. But, as this shield will damage the data on an optic-transfer, our equipment cannot perform its function efficiently from behind the camouflage. We can only open for transmissions after curfew and we transmit in ultra-violet.’
‘Black light,’ Rhun stated, thinking the arrangement rather clever. ‘How long have you had this setup?’
‘My grandfather established this haven with the help of the Lord Marduk,’ Adair stated proudly for the record.
‘And in all that time the Pantheon have not tracked your transmissions?’ Brian found this unbelievable.
‘It is their arrogance that is their undoing,’ Adair enlightened him, disdain in his voice. ‘They think us far too primitive and suppressed to be this organised. Catching Nova, and Lahmu,’ he nodded to the Lord in acknowledgement, ‘seems to be keeping the Pantheon busy for the present.’
‘Where I come from originally,’ Rhun placed a hand on Adair’s shoulder, ‘the Nefilim used to be referred to as the Lofty Ones. I used to think this was because of their imposing height, but I have come to realise of late that it was the Nefilim’s overdeveloped superiority complex to which our ancient forefather’s referred.’
Adair smiled at Rhun, pleasantly surprised and warmed by their mutual cause and ideas. ‘And who might you be, Lord … if you don’t mind me asking?’
Rhun laughed and then apologised for his rudeness. ‘I am Rhun, Vice-Governor of Kila, at your service.’
Adair was stunned to learn this. ‘But if both the Governor and his Vice are here on Nugia, who has been left to guard your own planet?’
‘My wife, the Governess.’ Brian couldn’t prevent his glance from drifting to Samara, who was holding the fort for her husband.
Do I remind you of her, as you remind me of my Tyrus? she wanted to ask, but decorum prevented it.
‘You are wondering why I appear so much like your husband.’ Brian guessed the cause of her dismayed expression.
Samara nodded, fearing he could read her mind and so she dared not deny it.
‘Do you have somewhere private we could talk?’ he queried with a distinctly softer tone in his voice. When Samara nodded once again and moved to lead the way, Brian turned back to Rhun to instruct: ‘It won’t be long until curfew. Best send Talynn to fetch the others back here before dark.’
‘Done,’ Rhun confirmed and vanished, which left everyone in the room gasping.
‘You are as powerful as the Nefilim,’ Adair announced, rather astounded by the fact.
But not as experienced. Brian’s thought was contrary to the cocky smile on his face. ‘And there are many, many more of us,’ he informed Adair, not wanting to put a dampener on his excitement.
‘Do you plan to free my father?’ Adair appealed hopefully, and his mother turned back to hear the response.
‘I plan to free every enslaved soul in this galaxy,’ Brian told the young man with certainty. ‘Starting with Tyrus-Leon.’
15
AND LOVING IT!
Everyone on board the Bil-me had their hands full.
Seagull was working overtime in the kitchen feeding the hungry mass of children they’d taken on board. Chook was in the crew washroom, herding the older boys through the showers. Hawk was taking care of sleeping arrangements, whilst Crow had volunteered for the clothes washing detail just to escape the chaos. Raven, having already made contact with Nova, was awaiting another by-directional data linkup with the DJ, hoping he would advise of a safe destination for their excess of living cargo.
Tory was in the captain’s private washroom and, having ushered all the older girls through it already, she was currently scrubbing her way through the younger children. Fortunately, Hawk was a big man and his cleansing tube was large enough to fit several of the young
sters at once.
When Hawk entered his quarters to find it in complete anarchy, he had to wonder if Tory was still alive in there. A bunch of clean six year olds were bouncing up and down on his bed. Dirty youngsters were rumbling all over the floor and attempting to penetrate the bed space; the older, cleaner kids were deflecting them.
‘Oi, you lot.’ Tory stuck her head out of the washroom to reprimand the clean kids. ‘I told you to go see Seagull.’ There was a unanimous whine in response. ‘Do it now, please,’ she instructed them, calmly but sternly, and they gave up their protest and pottered off past Hawk, saluting him as they passed.
‘Clean troops, dismissed,’ he responded with a smile as he watched them depart. ‘You handled that well.’ He seemed surprised by the children’s obedience.
‘They’re good kids.’ Tory ruffled the filthy hair of the Leonine female who was next in line. ‘Have you come to help?’
‘Can I?’ Hawk queried her back. He’d never had much to do with kids, so he wasn’t sure where to start.
‘It’s easy.’ Tory raised a finger and beckoned him closer. ‘You just strip them off and usher them in and out. Then I’ll tend to any injuries, and get them dressed. If Crow,’ she raised her voice to a shout, ‘ever shows up with the clean clothes!’
Crow came powering into the cabin hauling a large basket and all the children dived aside to make way for him. Hawk was not fast enough to move and so got bumped out of the way. ‘There you go, your Majesty!’ He threw the basket down at Tory’s feet.
‘Thank you,’ she said calmly, pointing to the new pile of soiled clothes on the floor outside the washroom door.
‘Not more!’ Crow grumbled as he began gathering up the stinky laundry. ‘I’m not built for this parenting crap!’ He stood with his load, repulsed by the smell. ‘You little shits had better learn to stay clean, cause I ain’t doing this again,’ he snarled, and exited, leaving a trail of laundry behind him.
Hawk stood, stupefied by the fact that Tory had his brother doing laundry.
‘Are you up for this, or what?’ Tory raised her brow questioningly.