Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears Page 2

  “We anticipated her aggression. We underestimated her abilities.”

  That was as close to agreement as they were likely to come. Still something about the situation bothered Lyrik. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had been caught unprepared. “I’ll take the tray in to her, but I don’t want to leave her unattended for long.”

  “I’ll send someone to you.”

  “Thanks.” His father’s image blinked out, and Lyrik sighed. He was scheduled to take the Tempest to Bilarri at week’s end. The Joint Council had been negotiating with the Bilarrians for the better part of a cycle. Any delay or complication could negate the fragile alliance, and Ontariese couldn’t afford to lose the cooperation of the Bilarrians. How was he supposed to weigh the well-being of one broken woman against the survival of his people?

  He really didn’t need this aggravation.

  Turning his attention back to the control console, he entered the code for Trey’s office. Director dar Aune wasn’t going to like what he was about to request. The screen displayed the emergency interrupt option. Trey was in a meeting. If Lyrik contacted Krysta directly, there would be hell to pay. He supposed that constituted an emergency. “Interrupt.”

  Trey responded to Lyrik’s page via audiocom. He’d probably stepped out of the conference room. Lyrik smiled. They’d made Trey Director of Covert Operations for a reason. The man was infallibly secretive.

  “What’s going on?” Trey’s deep voice reached the console’s receiver.

  “I need to borrow your wife.”

  “I beg your pardon!”

  Lyrik laughed. “Not like that, you pervert, unless you’re willing, of course.”

  “Is there a reason you’re annoying me?”

  When Trey lost his sense of humor, it usually meant one thing: the NRS. The sect’s fanaticism had escalated steadily since the refugees arrived from Earth. The leaders of the New Reformation Sect had repeatedly demanded that the Joint Council sterilize the “unnatural abominations” created by Operation Hydra. If the NRS learned Saebin had been released from stasis, there was no telling what they would do.

  “Saebin was released from stasis this morning, and she’s called the ghost of the Night Moon out to play.” The screen flickered, and Trey’s dumbfounded image materialized in front of Lyrik.

  “When was this decided? What precautions were taken?”

  “I heard about it when the overlord summoned me to DC3. Gauging from the number of guards currently in the infirmary, I’d say their precautions were practically nonexistent.”

  Trey raked his multi-colored hair with his hand, then stepped away from the vidscreen. Lyrik heard the office door slam, then Trey returned. “This is unbelievable. Saebin took out Vee. Vee, for gods’ sake. Did they expect a cycle in stasis to make her docile?” He leaned back in his chair; his eyes narrowed with menace. “What does this have to do with Krysta? Her control has increased considerably, but she’s no match for Saebin.”

  “I need her knowledge of terminology and Dr. Hydran’s strategies. I’ll have her advise me, nothing more. She won’t go anywhere near Saebin.”

  “As if either of us could keep her away.” Trey paused, his expression tense and thoughtful. “Don’t underestimate Krysta’s stubbornness. It’s gotten me into trouble more times than I care to remember.”

  Lyrik accepted the suggestion with a nod, and Trey ended the transmission. His consent was inferred if not spoken.

  While Lyrik waited for Krysta, he took the meal tray in to Saebin. “You will eat and quietly wait for my return.” With her legs secured to the sturdy legs of the chair, there wasn’t much else she could do.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lyrik returned to the control booth and watched Saebin on the vidscreen. She stared at the tray, eating with speed and efficiency, never glancing to the left or right. The door slid open, and Krysta joined him in the booth.

  Krysta stared at the vidscreen in silent horror. Her wide, thick-lashed eyes blended purple and turquoise, a unique combination even on Ontariese. He looked at the pain in her gaze, and the knot in his gut tightened. This must be heartrending for Krysta. She had known Saebin before the experiments, before the implants, before D-159.

  “Tell me you have a plan.” She looked into his eyes, her gaze tear bright, yet demanding.

  “I have a plan.”

  Chapter Two

  Saebin stared at her empty meal tray, hands clenched on her thighs as Krystabel’s words echoed through her mind. They’re only keeping you alive so they can figure out how your implants work. Well, that would never happen. She’d blast off her own head before she allowed anyone else to be subjected to this technology.

  How much did Lyrik know? He’d stepped into the role of handler with undeniable ease. His relaxed manner and charming smile couldn’t hide the authority underlying his tone. He’d ordered her to remain quiet until he returned. Swift and severe punishment followed any disobedience. Aggressive impulses tore through her body. Her muscles flexed and relaxed, flexed and relaxed. Her systems buzzed with excess energy, anxious, restless.

  Where was her real handler? Had she just imagined that hateful voice? Blurred images and confusing impressions wouldn’t focus within her mind. Was Dr. Hydran dead, or had she imagined that, too? Animosity surged, making her implants vibrate uselessly. She’d learned to conceal her loathing, but all the mental conditioning in the world couldn’t rid her mind of her hatred for her creator.

  The door slid open, and Lyrik entered. She scanned his body. No weapons just a communications device hooked over his ear. Not even a knife. What a fool.

  “I have the data for your next assignment.” He sat and folded his hands on the tabletop.

  “Continue.” Had she been sold to this man and his father? Where the hell was she? She couldn’t ask. D-159 wouldn’t care.

  “This will be a search and rescue mission. It’s imperative our target be recovered alive and unharmed.” He paused and looked into her eyes. His bright green gaze swirled like hers. She had never seen a male with eyes like his. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Why did he keep asking that? He was making it damn hard to keep emotion from her expression and her voice.

  “Your target is being held captive in ward D.”

  Saebin stiffened. What nonsense was this? Didn’t he realize she remembered the fire?

  “Her name is Saebin. D-159 has trapped Saebin. There will be no negotiation. It is your objective to free Saebin from D-159.”

  “My distinction is D-159. You are telling me ... I am not ...” Blood rushed through her ears. Her implants vibrated, stinging and burning. Was he trying to throw her into overload? She clutched her head with her hands. “Stop it! This is not a proper objective.”

  “Search and rescue is a proper objective.” His authoritative voice cut through the din. “Find Saebin and rescue her from D-159.”

  She rocked forward and back, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Images exploded within her mind. She opened her eyes, trying to escape the horror. Blood, twisted limbs, screams of agony. Was she hurting or being hurt? She couldn’t tell. Violent impulses shot through her body. She jerked free of the ankle restraints, her body armor protecting her flesh. Leaping to the seat of the chair, she panted, glaring at Lyrik.

  “I am ...” She screamed. He moved toward her cautiously. “I am D-159. No one is being held captive in ward D.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  The calm, female voice drew her attention to the door, and her heart missed a beat. Her implants activated, regulating her pulse. “Krysta?” The name escaped on a sob, and she sank to her knees, hands pressed tightly to her temples.

  “That’s right. I’m Krysta, and Saebin is my friend.” She took two steps farther into the room. “You must release her. She’s been your prisoner long enough.”

  Lyrik held his breath waiting for Saebin to react to Krysta’s presence. If anything happened to Krysta, Trey would kill him. He’d ordered her t
o stay in the control booth. He should have listened to Trey.

  Saebin clenched and unclenched her fist until a blast of Mystic energy burst from her right hand. Krysta ducked out of the way, but a moment later she crumpled to the floor. Saebin jumped from the chair, spinning to face Lyrik in midair. With dazzling agility, she landed with a light spring.

  A tight shoulder roll kept Lyrik just ahead of her blasts. He tackled her from behind, trapping her hands beneath her. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, and her entire body shuddered.

  “My wrist.” She panted. “You broke my wrist.”

  Shit! He’d only meant to immobilize her. The instant he eased his hold, she worked her legs beneath her and levered herself up, flipping him off her in one sustained motion. Her knees pinned his arms to the floor, and her fist slammed into his chest, directly over his heart.

  “I am D-159, and you are my prisoner!”

  Mystic energy had no effect on him, so it was probable her weapons wouldn’t hurt him, unless Hydran had found a way to augment the energy stream. He’d better cooperate, at least for now.

  “If you wanted to play rough, sweet cheeks, all you had to do was ask.”

  She huffed, pushing off his chest without moving her fist. “That is an irrational response. You will be silent.”

  “I’ll grant you irrational, but the silence is doubtful.” He looked at Krysta as the hellion stood and turned around. Krysta was still breathing, and her color was good.

  “Get up, slowly, hands away from your body.”

  “Can my hands be on your body?” Her eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. “I’ll behave if you do me a favor.”

  “You are in no position to negotiate.”

  “Scan Krysta, and make sure she’s okay before you have your wicked way with me.”

  “I rendered her unconscious. There is no lasting effect.” She paused, her hostile gaze moving to his lips. “What do you mean by ‘wicked way’?”

  “You’ll have to tell me, doll face. You’re the one holding the ... knuckle.” He did his best not to laugh.

  “Activate the door.”

  They wouldn’t get far. Security was monitoring his audiocom. She pressed her fist to his back and marched him toward the door. The scanner beam passed over his body, and the door slid open.

  “Your place or mine? I’m not particular.” She hesitated so long, he glanced over his shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

  “Where are we?”

  He’d been wondering when she’d figure it out. “We’re orbiting the planet Ontariese. This is called the Day Moon. We’re far, far away from Earth. Operation Hydra was destroyed and the Center liberated by Krysta and her life mate. Your only real objective now is to stop rendering people unconscious and figure out what you want to be when you grow up.” Two guards rushed around the corner as he finished his motivational speech. They fell over each other as she sent a Mystic pulse their way. Lyrik shook his head. “I don’t think you’re committed to your new objective.”

  She shoved him into the corridor. “Is this a penal facility?”

  “Military outpost.”

  “We cannot stay here.”

  “What do you suggest?” Another group of guards approached. One got off a shot before she commanded them into unconsciousness. “Damn, that’s a handy trick, but it’s getting a little redundant.” He needed to get her away from the others until she calmed down. If she’d decided to kill him, she would have blasted him by now. He still wasn’t convinced her weapon would harm him, but he was in no hurry to find out. “Security code eight, two, one.”

  “What is the purpose of that code?”

  “To prevent you from turning anyone else off.”

  “That is not within your power.”

  “Sure it is. If they all stay away, you can’t hurt anyone else.”

  Her steps faltered as they turned corner after corner. All the corridors in this building looked the same unless you understood the symbols on the walls. She grabbed his wrist and aimed her knuckle at his hand. A short burst sent scalding pain up his arm. He jerked his hand away and blew on his singed skin.

  “What the hell was that for?”

  “You do not respond to my mental commands. I needed to know if you were immune to my munitions implants as well. Now we both know. I can hurt you. If I sustain the stream long enough, I can likely end your life.”

  “Is that what you want?” He crowded her against the wall, his gaze intent on her face. His hands itched to touch her, to explore the curves hidden beneath her body armor. Her breasts heaved as she stared back at him in silent defiance. “You would be foolish to harm me. I’m your only ally. I’m your handler now, remember?”

  “You are not a proper handler.”

  She sounded so belligerent he wanted to laugh. Regardless of how twisted it seemed, she was defending the only life she’d ever known. He heaved a ragged sigh and stepped back. She needed to believe she was in control, at least for the time being. It wouldn’t take her long to realize her options were extremely limited. Desperation was a powerful motivator, but its outcomes were seldom constructive. Besides, his head hadn’t stopped throbbing from their last wrestling match.

  “Where do you want to go?” He motioned toward her hand and grinned. “You’re the one with the knuckle.”

  “I want to see this planet you say we orbit.”

  “Easily accomplished. Follow me.”

  Her heels tapped smartly as she matched her steps to his much longer stride. He’d better take her outside. She was just obstinate enough to dismiss a viewport as trickery. When they approached the perimeter door, he noticed a bright red cup upside down on the narrow shelf near the scanner. A tracker had been placed on the upturned cup. Clever. His audiocom sent out a traceable signal, but she would be virtually invisible if they got separated. Without turning his head, he reached for the tiny device.

  She grabbed his wrist. “What is that?”

  “Insect repellent.” He smiled. “It emanates an audio frequency that drives away bugs.”

  With a derisive snort, she snatched the tracer from his palm, dropped it to the floor and crushed it beneath her heel. “That’s my idea of insect repellent.”

  “By the ghosts of the Night Moon, did you just make a joke?” He clutched his hand over his heart. “I’m going to fall over.”

  She ignored his antics and nodded toward the door. He scanned it open, waiting for her to exit before he joined her on the railed walkway surrounding Detention Center Three. Similar buildings marched in graduated steps, following the steep contour of the Day Moon. Interspersed with the austere buildings were lush gardens and tree-lined parks.

  The Day Moon had once been a pleasure colony, the most popular destination for Ontarian tourists. The Great Conflict had begun long before Lyrik was born, and the massive military training facility had replaced the leisure colony.

  The faint scent of flowers drifted on a gentle breeze. He glanced at Saebin, and his breath lodged in his throat. She’d raised her face to the setting sun, her eyes closed, expression blissful.

  “Saebin,” he whispered.

  She looked at him and smiled. For a breathless moment they stared into each other’s eyes. Her gaze sparkled. Color blossomed across the crest of her cheeks; then her gaze clouded, and expression bled from her features. D-159 had returned. She continued her visual assessment of her surroundings as determination surged through Lyrik. He would see that expression again.

  “What is that?” She pointed to the palatial building perched atop the highest hill, the Warlords’ Headquarters.

  He hesitated. D-159 was incapable of curiosity. She gathered information for assignments. He had no intention of letting her out of his sight. Still, it didn’t feel right.

  Guards approached from the left. Lyrik waved them back. She was too distracted to notice.

  “How can this be the moon? The moon is right there.” She pointed to the dark, shadowy shape silhouetted on the far horizon.

&
nbsp; There was no security risk in answering this question, so Lyrik explained, “Ontariese has two moons. We’re on the Day Moon. Bend down. You can see the planet over there.” She followed his instructions, her bottom brushing against his crotch. Heat swirled though his belly, settling between his legs.

  You’re spitting into the wind there, buddy. Even if she were willing -- which is about as likely as the Joint Council appointing you High King -- how would you get past her body armor?

  This was part of the reason he spent so much time in space. Finding female companionship was easier in any spaceport than on his home world. Ontariese had become a frustrating, lonely place for anyone without Mystic abilities.

  “You will take me to the planet.”

  “I don’t think so.” She made a threatening motion with her fist. “Sweetheart, there are way too many people down there. Unless you can pilot a spacecraft, it’s not going to happen. You’re stuck with me until you figure out what you want.” Oh, and by the way, you make one wrong move and you’re toast. My father has decided you’re too dangerous to keep around.

  She clutched her head, then grasped the railing, moaning pathetically. Lyrik hesitated. Was this another “broken wrist?”

  “Hot.” She rasped out the word, her body trembling. “I’m so hot.”

  A shimmering red aura erupted around her. This was no trick. Were her implants overloading? Was she --

  Before he could complete the thought, she disappeared in a flash of light.

  * * * * *

  “What the hell happened to her?”

  “Stop shouting at me!”

  Lyrik took a deep breath and inclined his head toward Krysta. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to get the tracker on her. Do you have any idea where she went?”

  “I don’t think she meant to teleport. To my knowledge it isn’t within Saebin’s capabilities.”

  “D-159 can do all sorts of things Saebin couldn’t,” Cyrus said from behind his desk. Krysta sat in front, while Lyrik paced the office. “What about her body armor? According to Trey’s report, it makes the wearer undetectable to Mystics. What other functions does it serve?”