Requiem for the Conqueror

  " told you." Suddenly she was in his arms, hugging him tightly. "By the Blessed Gods, I've been worried sick about you. Tap and Tasha are nervously waiting word at home."

  "Excuse me," Nyklos called. "We've got to make some important decisions here.

  Either we make the next shuttle, or we're in trouble."

  Skyla pushed back, heart pounding. "What's the problem?"

  "I am." The tan-eyed woman stepped forward, and Skyla got a good look at her.

  She had a square-jawed face and shoulder length brown hair. The tan robe she wore accented her trim muscular body and long legs. More than that, the woman had a powerful presence and vitality that made her damned attractive.

  Staffa pointed at the crate. "There's only room for two. Tybalt has the blockaded

  Targa—and that's the only way to get through the embargo the Regans have drawn around the planet."

  Nyklos said, "We've got provisions in the crate for two persons. It can't carry three—and we must get Kaylla off the planet. She is Seddi, and Ily will stop at nothing to find her."

  "So? What's the problem?" Skyla glanced back and forth. "Kaylla goes to Targa in the box. Staffa and I take my ship and return to the Itreatic Asteroids.

  We'll get to Targa after things settle down."

  "It's not that easy," Staffa told her. "Tyklat will have already issued orders for my arrest. My description is everywhere. If I step out of this warehouse, someone will spot me. Nyklos filled me in on the entire operation. My rescue has jeopardized the entire Seddi network on Etarus. They've worked for years to get Tyklat to his present position. He had to turn every stone over to find us. Ily will be looking for a scapegoat, and Tyklat's hanging by a thread. If he doesn't bend time-space in his search for us, she'll offer his head to Tybalt. Tlie crate looks like my best chance."

  "Put more food in the crate," Kaylla suggested.

  "Take too long to get it. We've only got four minutes to get that box loaded,"

  Nyklos said anxiously. "Tyklat can't delay any longer, he's got to seal this planet immediately."

  Skyla squinted at the crate, making a decision. "Staffa, you and Kaylla get in the box. Go, now. Of all of us, I'm the least likely to get caught in Tyklat's roundup."

  Staffa glanced uncertainly at Nyklos then stepped close, placing his hands on Skyla's shoulders. "And you trust Bruen and the Seddi?"

  Skyla gave him a crooked grin. "Not in the least, but Bruen is very interested in talking to you. I doubt they'll assassinate you before he gets a chance to sit down face-toface and discuss things with you. Something's gone wrong with the Seddi plans—and you're part of it. Trust them? Hell, no, but you've got plenty of insurance."

  "What about you?" Staffa asked, shifting uneasily.

  "I'm not the one who ended up in the slave collar," Skyla reminded. "You worry about getting to Targa in one piece. Find out what Bruen has to say about your son.

  "And if there's treachery?"

  Skyla shot a hard glance at Nyklos. "The Companions will guarantee your safety, Staffa. I have Bruen's promise of a safe conduct for you, and I think I have a plan for getting off Etarus. You see, Bruen has you, and I have Nyklos-and everything he knows about Seddi spy networks. As long as you're treated well, Nyklos doesn't get mind-probed, and that information doesn't get transmitie to either Divine Sassa 11 or Tybalt the Imperial Seventh."

  Staffa bent forward, kissing her gently on the lips. "gee you on Targa, if the quantum gods allow." And he ducked into the gray syalon crate.

  "Hurry!" Nyklos shouted, waving Kaylla in.

  Skyla's heart ached as the heavy door was glued in place and a hoist lifted the crate, whining as it sped along the ceiling gantries for the shuttle.

  Nyklos turned on his heel, saying, "You surely didn't think you'd get away with ...... He glanced down at the blaster Skyla shoved against his ribs.

  "Damn right I did-and do. Let's get moving. I've got to steal my ship before Tyklat impounds it, and you're going to play the part of my husband in the process." She smiled icily. "Right, sweet meat?"

  Nyklos measured the seriousness in her eyes and sighed in defeat. "Very well, at least let me call Tyklat. Maybe he can do something."

  Security Third Zsem Letmon noticed Corporal Shinn as he passed routinely through the military compound gate. The woman with him, however, was definitely nonroutine. Tall and athletic, she pressed against Shinn as she whispered in his ear. Her perfect face lit with laughter. Striking redbrown hair tumbled down her shapely back, glinting curls shining where they caught the slanting afternoon light. She wore a shining silver dress that looked to have been glued to her firm flesh.

  "Lucky bastard!" Zsern growled under his breath, seeing the scanners clear the pair. "He's got a woman like that to squire to the Second Division Ball-and I'm on patrol all night! Some justice!"

  He admired the full curves of her bottom as she walked along, arm in arm with the corporal. Damned if her hips didn't sway in a most fascinating manner.

  Zsem swallowed against the sudden tight knot of desire under his throat and shook his head.

  Three hours later, Zsem saw them again as he surveyed the parade ground. The sun had fallen behind the ragged peaks to the west, leaving the night sky star-shot, the Targan moon barely peeking over the mountains where it followed in the sun's wake.

  Shinn and that voluptuous woman strolled from the music-blaring ballroom toward the officers' quarters. Zsem cut through the darkness, taking advantage of his IR night vision to study her again. Her silver skintight dress caught the light and reflected it on all the curves of her phenomenal body.

  He timed it right to meet Shinn as he entered the personal residential quarters-just to get one close-up of her beauty. "Danced out?" Zsern joked, winking his approval at the corporal. He glanced at her, meeting incredible amber eyes that let him speechless.

  "You're gawking, Zsem," Shinn failed to mask his irritation. "Now go stick your nose in garbage cans so we know we're safe from Targan Rebels, huh. The lady and I are off to conduct some, uh, ground maneuvers." Shinn and the auburn-haired woman pushed past.

  "What I'd give for a woman like that," Zsem muttered, remembering the thrust of her breasts against the silver fabric. His fantasies allowed him to drift for a second as he hugged his blaster close.

  "Patrol check!" the Night Second's voice reminded flatly in his ear comm.

  "Third Letmon, all clear," he mumbled, thumbing his mike.

  Walking his beat between the deserted buildings, Letmon remembered her; she stuck in his mind, spinning herself around each of his fantasies. At the same time the music pouring out of First Mykroft's ball grated on his sensitive nerves. She had marvelous amber eyes. Amber eyes?

  The phrase caught, clinging in the back of his mind. "Third Letmon, over," he called in.

  "Yeah, Zsem, what ya need?"

  "Didn't we have a warrant for a woman with amber eyes and reddish hair a while back? Shinn just took a knock-out dish like that to his quarters. She's Targan, not one of ours. I mean, you'd remember a body like that--or those eyes."

  Zsem heard the comm hum in the background. "Yeah, here it is. Couple of months ago. Not much description. Think this is her?"

  "No," Zsem added, grinning wickedly. "But, what the hell, we're all missing the party and he's in banging bellies with one phenomenal piece of female flesh while I'm walking around in the dark. Maybe I'll give him time to exercise before I go knock on his door. Just to check her out, you see. "

  "Right!" The Night Second agreed, a perk of interest in his voice. "Uh, I'll follow from your monitor. If she's that good, we'll cop a couple of pictures.

  Might make my 20 ICs back.

  Zsem gave them an hour. He trotted up the hallway to Shinn's room and palmed the door latch. Locked, of course. His security ID bypassed the mechanism.

  Zsern pushed the door open quietly. Silence.

  "Security! Corporal Shinn?" he called as he marched into the sleeping quarters. Nothing. No one had mussed the
bedding, but Shinn's dress uniform lay scattered about the floor. The gap hadn't registered at first. He took a quick look at the wall again where a square hole had been cut. Plaster dust had settled in a fine white powder over the floor and the block that had been cut out had been pushed through.

  "Uh, what's behind this wall?" Shinn wondered, knowing the Night Second watched through his headset cam. "According to records, that's the armory."

  "Crap in the morning!" Zsem grinned to himself. "Hey, Second, is there a bonus if we break a black market ring?" "Uh-huh, just remember we're both in on it."

  "Yeah, well, keep your fingers off that alarm, buddy. I'll nail them, and we split fifty-fifty!"

  "Got it," the Night Second agreed.

  The book said they needed to sound an alert but hell, on a Security Third's pay? Risks were called for. Zsem thrust his blaster through the square hole, bounced on his toes, and crawled through head first. The air in the armory felt cool against his face. Zsem eased himself over zero-g crates and onto the concrete floor. One out of five of the overhead lights were on, leaving the place dimly lit. Silently, he stole through the huge building.

  When he neared the main doors, he ducked back. Both guards appeared asleep, head cams pointed at holo-vision. "I'm getting a bad feeling about this," Zsem whispered into the mike. "Maybe we better sound an alert. This could-"

  "They been watching that holo, for the last half hour." "So Shinn and the lady been in here a half hour? This gate leads out to the compound. Nothing there but electrified fence. You get a proximity reading on that?"

  The Night Second's voice sounded baffled. "Nothing. They couldn't have thrown a personal hygiene pack over the wire without an alarm going off and surveillance lighting up the whole area."

  "I'm going to check the other door." He advanced, blaster held low, while, worry traced fingers up and down his spine. As he feared, he found the other security personnel-dead. He stared at the bodies. The throats had been neatly cut, heads propped to point at the holo box.

  "Rotted Gods!" the Second whispered hoarsely in Zsem's ear.

  "You know, there's enough explosive and weaponry in here to flatten half this planet," Zsem reminded as he backed away from the corpses.

  "Yeah, but the screens haven't shown any vehicles moving," the Night Second reminded. "Only thing that crossed the compound was one AG cart. Went to the service entrance at the power plant. Probably routine delivery."

  Zsem pushed the door open, blaster ready. The night seemed peaceful enough.

  "Sound the alarm. I gotta bad feeling about this."

  "My bonus money keeps getting-Holy crap! Proximity! Must be a thousand people out there in the night! Can you see them? Zsem? Can you see-"

  A blinding flare of light illuminated the grounds in an actinic glare that shot up from behind the armory. The compound lights flickered and went black.

  The concussion deafened, then the ground heaved under Zsem's feet. With his IR vision, Zsem saw the masses beyond the fence coming at a run, hundreds of people, charging forward purposely.

  "Power plant!" he gasped. "They blew the flipping power plant! Whole place is dead!"

  He turned and caught sight of a light coming through the armory. Behind him, the mob rushed the fence, lasers cutting the wire like butter.

  He wheeled and ran toward the light, drawing up as he slid to a stop and pulled for his blaster with fear-thick fingers. Her amber eyes bored into his.

  Her vibraknife thrust into his gut, low down, ripping up through his chest.

  He tried to scream as he fell beside the AG cart she had been towing. The world turned gray before Zsem's swimming vision while she pulled cases of blasters and armor past his face. Outside, a swelling roar rose in angry throats. Fleet pounded through the armory as Targans armed themselves before spilling into the night.

  * * *

  Skyla turned to the monitor as it hazed and wavered. Something was coming in on a scrambled channel. She sat in the familiar seat of her personal yacht, the worry-cap lowered onto her ice-blonde hair. One by one, the systems came to life on the instrument panel as she completed the preflight check.

  Tyklat's face formed. "Wing Commander? I just thought I'd check and make sure you made it through customs without problems." He hesitated. "You wouldn't consider turning Nyklos loose, would you?"

  "I will, as soon as I get Staffa off Targa."

  "I take it the Master is in good health?"

  She chuckled. "He must be. You ought to hear him curs ing back there. Don't you Seddi have rules about the kind of language a Master can use?"

  Tyklat gave her a flat look from tired eyes. "Masters are not used to being held hostage."

  "Consider the stakes, Tyklat, and then you tell me what you'd do in my place.

  By the way, how'd you get us such an easy clearance? I've already got a flight plan from orbital traffic control. Not even a single delay."

  Tyklat grinned evilly and held up a golden badge with a cat's face and lily design. "Ily's jessant-de-lis. When she finds out you used it to clear her ship, I'm hoping she'll be so embarrassed she won't think twice about using me for a scapegoat."

  "My systems are powering up and I can see Ily's cruiser on the monitors. I guess they haven't figured out what's gone wrong?"

  "They're curious about the alert but not panicked yet. I imagine things will be interesting by the time Ily gets on board." His dark features went tense.

  "Minister Takka is coming to. I've got her in a med unit, but I can't keep her down any longer. You've had all the time I can safely grant you without creating awkward explanations or incompetent misdirection. Good luck, Wing Commander." His lips curled over white shining teeth, eyes sparkling. "I am sorry to have to let you go. Ily promised I could put a collar on you—and keep you!"

  "Might not have been so bad, Tyklat." She gave him a wink and a saucy smile.

  "The Lord Commander's on his way to Targa, huh? You put together a hell of a rescue. If you need anything from us ... the Companions do not forget a debt."

  "I will remember, thank you. And good spacing, Wing Commander."

  "Farewell, Tyklat. And thanks."

  "Take very good care of Nyklos." The screen went dead.

  She cleared with planetary orbit control and powered out of orbit, laying a vector for deep space—setting a false trail of plasma in the direction of Rega before shutting the reactors down. Changing her ship's attitude, Skyla blasted reaction mass from time to time to change vector without leaving a consistent trail. Satisfied no one could follow, she let her cruiser float on automatic.

  For long moments, she stared out the main port at the billions of stars that shimmered in double and triple images beyond the Forbidden Borders. A whole universe lay out there—beyond human ability to reach. An unfamiliar depression settled on her, a feeling the universe had changed, that nothing would be the same again.

  Skyla, you're tired. You haven't had a full night's sleep in a week.

  The worry-cap gleamed in the cockpit lights as she lifted it off. She stood and took one last glance at the controls before she palmed the cockpit hatch and stepped into the main cabin. Using a special security code, she locked the cockpit hatch and turned. Nyklos remained firmly bound with EM restraints where she'd shoved him into one of the cushioned sofas.

  Not that he was suffering. Her private yacht had once belonged to the Secretary of Economics on Formosa. The interior had been paneled with sandalwood and Riparian ebony. Velvet upholstery was the rule, and gleaming gold accented tasteful decor. The table Nyklos sat behind had been cut from a slab of Vegan marble and Myklenian silk had been used for the draperies. The thick spongy rugs had come from the finest Ashtan manufacturers.

  He cocked his head curiously and asked, "Everything is all right? We're spacing for Targa?"

  Skyla sighed and shook her head. "Afraid not. It will take quite a while for Staffa's cargo canister to arrive on Targa. Meanwhile, Ily Takka is going to come boiling out of Etana with an anger the li
kes of which not even the Rotted Gods could imagine. Rushing off to Targa might put us right in her net. Want a cup of stassa?"

  "I'll pass. So what are we going to do? You're not going to keep me tied up the whole time, are you?"

  Skyla shrugged. "Depends on how you act, and what I decide to do, but first things first. I'm going to feed you, get you something to drink, and let you take care of nature. Then I'm going to tie you up, lock you in one of the after cabins, and I'm going to sleep for as long as it takes to get my brain functional again. After that, I'll let you out, feed you again, and then I'm going to sit around and do nothing but think until I can tack some kind of plan together and initiate it."

  "While I'm tied up again?"

  Skyla raised an eyebrow. "It could be worse. This isn't exactly a pigsty."

  "And I can always fantasize about you."

  "You already did that."

  He gave her a suspicious glance. "When?"

  "Under the Mytol."

  He colored. "Well, I guess there are no secrets between us."

  "Oh, there are plenty," she told him coolly. "But they're all mine."

  His smile grew until it curled his mustache. "Uh, I don't suppose you'd sleep better with someone close. Just because you're my captor doesn't mean we couldn't—"

  "No."

  "Oh, come on. You know how I feel about you. The Mytol wouldn't leave any doubt in your mind—or mine, for that matter. You know that what I told you was the truth. I think you're one of the most wondrously beautiful women in all of Free Space."

  "If this is some sort of psychological warfare, forget it. I've been flattered by the best, Nyklos, and you don't have a chance. Over the years, I've learned that there is no limit to the amount of lust that can be packed into a male body."

  Skyla fed him, showed him to the toilet, and finally locked him—well tied—in one of the cabins. She programed the security monitor to go if the door to his room were tried and then went to the elegant master cabin. There, she stripped and enjoyed a hot shower before tumbling into the decadently comfortable bed.