Demon’s Revenge (High Demon #5)(56)
Author: Connie Suttle

"This is why we couldn’t find them before—they’re heading toward mostly empty space. What’s there?" Norian barked at an ensign, who scurried to check the comp, pulling up the area the rogue ship targeted.

"Nothing, Director," the Ensign muttered. "There’s no life anywhere there. A couple of dead planets, that’s it."

"Which dead planets?" Lendill did the barking this time.

"Cloudsong and Thiskil, sir," the ensign replied.

"Both killed by Zellar," Norian cursed.

"We’ve checked them in the past—they’re still empty," the captain offered.

"But they may not be empty, tonight. Tell me, you were looking for life-forms, weren’t you?" The light was coming on for Lendill.

"Yes. We found nothing. There was no need to search further—these planets are only home to old or ancient technology, now. Why would we need to look for that?" the captain scoffed.

"Because new technology may have been added to it," Norian felt ghostly hands move up his spine. He was on the same wavelength as Lendill, now. They’d both heard Zendeval Rjjn talk of a takeover. Technology was available to force the Alliance satellites and main comp systems to succumb to its commands. It wasn’t legal in either Alliance, but these people were smarter than he’d imagined—setting new technology among the old, knowing that with so much of it there, a few additional items would go unremarked.

"They’re going to do it tonight," Lendill whispered. "They’ll not only take over the people, but every information system in both Alliances. Bro," he turned to Norian, "we’re screwed."

"Every ship on manual, break away from ASD comps now!" Norian shouted. The ensign rushed to obey, as every system shut down on the ship and darkness fell.

Two clicks at hyperspeed. That’s how long it took. My fingers itched to hold a comp-vid and calculate which systems might be reached from Stellar Winds during that time. My cage and sixty-six others were in a cargo hold with no windows or comforts available. Controlled slaves dressed in little more than rags walked among the cages, watching for distress, fainting or illness. Some people don’t do well at hyperspeed; it disorients them. It’s much like traveling upon an ocean in a boat, for some reason. Buckets and cleaning cloths were provided to the few who became ill, while a physician tended to two who fainted. I watched all of it dispassionately, waiting for our landing.

"So, you think that little cook is going to be yours, do you? I heard dessert isn’t all she can do." Dantel Schuul grinned and slapped Zendeval on the back. Perdil grimaced at the one who’d provided all the comp components to construct the brain machines, all of which were set to take over every information system in both Alliances. With controllers injected into so many, now, it was easy to set things up for the takeover.

Perdil, however, was one of the few who wasn’t controlled. Regretted now that he’d allowed Zen to be controlled by Nedrizif. Wished more than once that he’d removed the damn thing himself. That way he would be assured of having one ally when he killed Dantel Schuul and the others. They were human scum.

Nedrizif, well, he and Perdil had been allied for a while. They understood one another. Zen’s streak of fairness had been quelled—and his life taken over—by a controller developed by Schuul Enterprises. Perdil sighed and turned away from Dantel Schuul. The opportunity would come, and Perdil still had a winning card to play. He would employ that option only if necessary.

"We have arrived," the commander announced to the gathered dignitaries. Yes, they would be exactly that, Dantel smirked. Dignitaries. Honored leaders. He would be held in reverence one day, much as Ildevar Wyyld was now. As the founder of the new, Combined Alliance, Dantel had plans to rule all of it, and with his controllers and controlling brains, there would be no crime unless he commanded it. He was looking forward to playing with lives. He already did that, but this would be on the grandest scale imaginable. Dantel’s fingers twitched, just thinking about it.

I felt the ship lurch when we landed. The ship was a modified freighter, no doubt with luxury cabins added. Those cabins would be equipped with the most expensive shock systems available, to cushion Zendeval and his cronies from the inconvenience of the land {e od. ing jolts. The caged slaves received no such comforts and some had to be tended a second time. I looked at eyes around me—mostly blank stares met my gaze. A few clutched the bars of their cages, feeling a bit of fear. At least that much was left to them.

Slaves didn’t live long, usually. Their owners tired of them or used them for their sick perversities until they either died or were sold into heavy labor. I held little hope that those who’d come before had been treated well after their sale. They were likely dead or well on their way.

The loader was powered up and the first cage was lifted. I stared through the opening hatch at the sunlight outside. This section of the planet had its face turned toward the sun. All the better. I recognized it, too. I’d been here before, to heal the core. Cloudsong greeted us as the bay door yawned wide.

Lendill, do you see this? I sent mindspeech.

Little busy here, Reah. See what? Lendill returned.

Cloudsong, I said. We’re on Cloudsong.

Lendill and Norian had spent the better part of two clicks folding from ship to ship, punching in private codes and taking each vessel offline from the ASD mainframe. Then they employed other, private codes to power it up again as an autonomous ship. It could be done; it just took time. Lendill and Norian put their cursing skills to the test, too. They were behind—far behind, and had no idea where they were going. Until Reah sent mindspeech.

Lendill hadn’t contacted her—didn’t want to worry her with the fact that help might not be swift in coming, if at all. And he’d doubted that Reah would even be allowed to know which world they’d landed upon, until he’d gotten mindspeech from her. Reah recognized Cloudsong, all right. She’d healed the core. The planet still appeared dead; Zellar had drained it more thoroughly than any other world. A dead world was now the perfect place for pirates and slavers.

"Set everything manually to get to Cloudsong," Lendill shouted into the aud-comp. "Best possible speed," he added. It would take another click to reach their destination, and anything might happen during that time. Lendill didn’t remember ever being this frightened.

"Cloudsong," Norian came in from resetting the last ship on manual, slumping onto a chair beside Lendill’s with a sigh. "Fucking Cloudsong. Why didn’t we see it before?"

The old palace in Song City was our destination. Yes, it was in disrepair, with the roof caving in places, allowing sunlight to filter onto the stone floors beneath. So much the better. I and the other captives were shunted into an anteroom, just off the central grand hall of the palace. We traveled through the grand hall on our way to the smaller chamber, where a crowd was already gathered. Caged women were scrutinized by prospective buyers as they passed by.