Zein: The Prophecy Page 18

  ‘Seen people killed for less careless speech, you best be careful,’ he warned.

  ‘Yes, yes of course,’ Lord Malacca said. ‘Have you heard about the Core developments?’ he asked, looking to change the conversation topic. Lord Malacca had inserted his son in Lord Fathom’s court for a couple of years to provide an opportunity for his clan to gain access to the powerful zinithium raw material.

  His clan harboured long term bitterness against the Blackstones that went back centuries to the Xonian wars. Their success in the wars had seen the Blackstones take control of Zein to the detriment of the Malacca Clan. His personal bitterness was compounded when Egan Blackstone had subverted his lands and killed his wife. The latter was an inconvenience; the old hag was always nagging. He had agreed to be the spy for Zylar in the Western Quadrant to save his own skin and in return he would be given control of the Fathoms’ city. Now was the time his carefully laid plans could be brought to bear.

  ‘Yes, I heard,’ said General Chad, ‘I also heard that they are commencing zinithium production tomorrow. Does that not impact your strategy?’

  Lord Malacca emitted an evil smile, ‘I was never a one trick pony, General, wait and see…’ he said.

  ‘I don’t trust you.’

  ‘You have no say in the matter. Zylar agrees with my approach,’ Lord Malacca answered angrily. With that General Chad clicked his fingers and six Ilsid soldiers moved in from the shadows.

  ‘You are a fool. Do you not think my Lord would not protect his investment?’ said General Chad. ‘When you teleport you will take these soldiers.’ He gestured to the now motionless guards. Lord Malacca made to argue and stopped as General Chad moved quickly, drawing one of his swords out and holding it against his throat. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

  Lord Malacca was furious but held his tongue again. He nodded curtly and pushed the sword down from his neck and then stormed out of the room. He was quickly followed by the Ilsid, all carrying their trademark small packs that held the food which sustained them.

  Lord Malacca made his way across the parade ground towards the Transportation building, where twelve of his best soldiers stood waiting. Lined up next to them was the remainder of his army, standing to attention, immaculate in their red uniforms. He was irritated. This was just a fraction of his force.

  Zylar had demanded that the bulk of the Eastern Quadrant army was to be used to manage the troublesome quadrants and execute his plan for Earth. The army on the parade ground was only just over three thousand strong, his own personal Palace Guard. He pushed away his irritation.

  More than enough to conquer the puny Fathom Army, he thought confidently.

  The twelve men were part of his elite personal bodyguard, led by Cronje, his second in command. Cronje, the most vicious senior officer he had ever known, watched with interest the Ilsid escorting his Lord. His cunning face missed nothing. He was known as ‘The Fox’, not just for his ability in the battlefield but his face resembled the Earth creature with his eyes the most threatening element. They were thin pinpricks of bright intelligence. Always watching, planning and calculating.

  ‘Picked up some passengers, my Lord?’ Cronje asked silkily, looking over the faceless assassins.

  ‘General Chad seems to think I need baby-sitting,’ said Lord Malacca, still fuming.

  ‘Are they coming with us to the negotiations?’ said Cronje, cocking his head to one side questioningly. Lord Malacca nodded grimly.

  ‘Wonderful,’ said Cronje drily motioning for the personal guard soldiers to fall into line after the Ilsid. There was no love lost between the Eastern Quadrant army and the Ilsid, just a common hatred of the other clans. The expedition party from the Eastern Quadrant began to file into the Transportation building. The main force would follow them once the signal was given.

  From the ground floor dining room in the Palace, General Chad watched them go as he swilled his wine in the glass.

  ‘Well, we are privileged to have your company, General,’ said a beautiful delicate voice behind him. General Chad looked round and faced the tall woman with long blonde hair who had laced her statement with a heavy amount of sarcasm.

  ‘Lady Blackstone, what a pleasure to see you,’ he said smoothly, his hungry eyes roaming over her perfect body. Belina Blackstone shuddered; he gave her the creeps.

  ‘What unpleasantness have you been up to today?’ she asked, bored, and not really bothered what the answer was from the big man in front of her.

  Belina had lived in the Palace for the last twenty odd years, spoilt by her doting uncle. He had told her that she was the last of the royal lineage of Blackstones. Her family had been killed by the renegade Southgates, who had slaughtered her father, mother and brother. She had very few friends and spent many hours reading and staring out of her bedroom window with her living quarters covering a whole floor of one of the dome buildings.

  She liked nothing more than teasing big bad General Chad, who she knew desired her but, dared not step out of line. It was just a little bit of fun in a life where there was little love interest and it kept her amused. She so wished to meet the love of her life and they could have a grand wedding here in the Palace. She remembered the last time she was in love and felt sad.

  A few years ago, one of the young Eastern soldiers who had guarded her had sent her a note expressing his love. Belina had confided to her hand maid, Milano, who was her childhood friend and who from the age of twelve had been given the task of serving her. Milano was just as excited and asked to see the letter. Conspiratorially they had talked deep into the night. Over the next week Belina had floated around the Palace, her head full of romance. The young handsome guard gave her a new letter each day and she had briefly touched his hand when he handed one of the letters across. It had sent shivers down her spine. She was in love. Milano smiled happily and was thick as thieves with Belina.

  Then one day the young soldier wasn’t there. Belina had asked the other soldiers on guard who didn’t know what had happened to him and then in desperation had rushed to see her uncle. Her uncle was sympathetic but, alas, she was informed that the soldier had to follow his duty and go to the Southern Quadrant with the army. She had cried for a week; Milano was there to comfort her.

  What she didn’t know was that Milano was now the proud owner of her own house in the local village, a token from Zylar for her treachery which had delivered the innocent and naïve man into his clutches. As Belina dreamt that her love would return from the fighting the boy was having his skin peeled from his body slowly by General Chad in the dungeons below, before her uncle himself had calmly walked up to the boy and taken his knife out and gouged out his eyes. As the boy screamed, Zylar, displaying no emotion, gutted him so his insides spilled out. The boy died an agonising slow death. Zylar watched coldly…no one was going to love his niece except him.

  A couple of weeks later a solemn uncle gave his niece comfort, as an uncle should do, when the dreadful news arrived that the young soldier had died a heroic death fighting the rebellious Southgates. Belina was inconsolable.

  Belina was pulled back to the present. General Chad was answering her casually tossed question.

  ‘Nothing, my Lady, the Core development required some support due to a sickness that they were experiencing and Lord Malacca and his son are negotiating terms.’ Belina felt a sense of thrill at the mention of Lord Malacca’s son, Manek. It was Manek who had taken her innocence in a lust filled night a couple of years ago. She didn’t love him but looked forward to his visits, however infrequent they were.

  ‘How kind of Lord Malacca and his son, I hope they can agree the support required,’ she said gracefully.

  ‘You are too kind, my Lady, I am sure they will,’ General Chad answered, smirking internally. She had no idea that her precious lover had murdered many with the poisoning of the water.

  ‘Why all the soldiers?’ she asked, as she looked across the ranks on the parade ground.

  ‘They need help in moving the zi
nithium and Lord Fathom has requested Lord Malacca’s help.’ Belina hoped that the help would alter other Zeinonians’ views of the Eastern Quadrant. They were mistaken of their involvement in the Quadrant Wars. It was the tyrannical Lord Southgate who had caused much of the fighting. Her uncle had been very clear about that.

  General Chad realised that he had to check on progress of the targeting probe which was housed in the heavily guarded bunker outside. He looked at his time piece and almost jumped. The time was close when Earth would feel the full might of Zylar. His body tensing he turned to Belina. ‘Excuse me, my Lady, I have business to attend to,’ said General Chad, bowing before hastily leaving the room.

  That’s odd. He usually prolongs our meetings, taking delight in undressing me with his scaly eyes.

  Belina, intrigued at the sudden change in demeanour and tone, decided to follow him. She peeked out into the grand corridor. General Chad was now some distance away and then he disappeared into one of the many rooms which were off the main corridor. Belina ran quickly to the room he had entered and placed her ear to the door. Inside there was a grinding sound and then quiet. Belina couldn’t help herself; she had to find out what that noise was.

  She opened the room and stepped inside ready with some story to tell General Chad as an excuse for why she had followed him. No one was there. The room was a simple office with a large desk and bookshelves. There was a major stone fireplace with no fire lit. Leading up to the fireplace were marks from the General’s muddy boots. Then they stopped in front of the fireplace. Where did he go?

  Belina knew that this was not the entrance to the dungeons where sometimes her uncle had kept lawbreakers ahead of trials. The old Palace was riddled with secret passages and she quickly guessed this was where he’d gone.

  She followed the footprints until she was in front of the fireplace and looked up and down. She scanned the fireplace carefully. There wasn’t much to look at. A clock, a poker, nothing that was out of the ordinary. There was quite a bit of dust as cleaning only happened twice a week and it was due tomorrow. Then she spotted that part of the fireplace was free from dust. It must have been wiped away. She reached out and pressed the area. Suddenly there was the same grinding noise she had heard before and the whole fireplace moved back to show steps down into the ground. Belina watched carefully and looked down the stairs, even considering simply closing the passage, but then curiosity got the better of her. She began her descent down the steps.

  The steps wound round and round taking her deep below the Palace until they ended in front of a stone wall. There was an indented stone lever in the wall. Belina pulled hard on it and the wall span round and she stepped through the hole. She was in a concreted long corridor with a number of corridors branching off. On the walls there were lights embedded into the stone glistening through the murky darkness.

  Left or right? Belina made her decision and turned left after closing the door.

  She walked slowly and at certain points made note of the different hiding places she could go if needed. After she had been walking some five minutes the corridor opened up into a large expansive room. There were two storage areas either side of the entrance where goods were stacked, including cabling and body armour. She quickly hid behind two large drums of cable and looked out into the room.

  The room was circular with another corridor at the far end which led to a long ramp that led up to the surface. Belina could just see in the distance the two massive steel doors at the top of the ramp. They must be the doors she had seen from the parade ground. The doors were heavily guarded. There were two mounted photon machine guns either side of the corridor manned by two Ilsid soldiers. In front of the door there were at least another couple of dozen Ilsid and regular Eastern soldiers on guard.

  In the room there was a large round console that surrounded a white electronics platform which fed into a mast. The mast reached to the ceiling and out. Working at the console there were at least twelve operators with a guard standing right behind each of them. It looked like they were more guarding their work than guarding them, Belina thought. At each station the operators had a map of the Underworld and all had a different region of the world which they were managing. The majority were red; however, some were still blue. General Chad was in earnest conversation with one of the operators.

  Belina was straining to hear the conversation and as she edged forward she knocked a chest protector onto the floor. General Chad spun round and was just going to order a couple of the soldiers to check where the noise had come from when the operator in front of him pointed excitedly to the screens. General Chad turned back and saw that all the consoles were now showing red. He let out a cry of excitement, all interest lost in the noise Belina had made.

  Belina thought now was a good time to leave. She went back through the corridor, operated the mechanism and climbed back up the long winding stairs, pleased when she was back safely in her room. Milano walked in with some soup and bread and Belina realised she was very hungry. She would tell Milano what had happened later.

  Chapter 21

  Bluejack

  Tyson sat on an outcrop of rock in one of the numerous cavernous mining areas off the main corridor. It was cooler here with large industrial fans circulating and cooling the air. He looked at one of the gigantic digging machines that mined the zinithium. It was the size of a detached house. Its beetle-like shape was complemented by two enormous claws used to dig deep into the rock in front of the manned capsule. The large caterpillar tracks lay dormant at the foot of the rock face as they waited for their operators. Bailey was like a little boy as he climbed inside the command pod and played with the controls. Around each of the vehicles were dumping trucks that transported the raw material to the holding bay, before being shipped back to the surface in the main haulage lift. There were also row upon row of zinithium powered pickaxes in case the machines went down and were out of action until repaired.

  ‘Penny for your thoughts?’ said Amelia as she climbed down to join him. Tyson turned round and gave her a grin. Amelia was immediately captivated. Her love for him had grown to a point that if she didn’t win his affections she didn’t know what she would do. She sat down and brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs.

  ‘Just that all this,’ Tyson waved his hand round the cave, ‘has been happening for years and no one on Earth has any idea. It simply amazes me.’

  ‘I know, it’s hard to believe,’ Amelia replied as she followed his gaze. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’

  ‘How do you control them?’ she pointed to the now silent figures of their previously crazed attackers who were following Tyson around like doting pets. Amelia shuddered as it made her uneasy to look at their white eyes and shuffling feet like some bad zombie movie.

  ‘I simply send them thoughts and pictures of calmness, that we are not here to hurt them and that they should not attack us,’ Tyson replied glancing across at them. Seeing Amelia’s question forming in her mind, he quickly went on to explain. ‘The drug induced them to be violent with no reason. All I did was give the boundaries and guidance to prevent them harming themselves or others. They are very pliable, as if their own ability to determine has been removed.’

  ‘Do you need to look into their eyes to transfer the instructions or can you do it from afar?’ Amelia asked as she threw a loose pebble into the mining pit below. Tyson shrugged.

  ‘They are so dependent on instruction that I can guide them remotely. There are others that remain in the settlement area which I can connect to, all a little kind of weird,’ said Tyson.

  ‘Bronstorm says that this is how Zylar controls the Ilsid. Do you think that’s possible?’ Amelia blushed at the saying of Bronstorm’s name as the young soldier had taken a distinct liking to her. Tyson caught the thought and though he kept his face straight he was surprised that anger crept into him. He couldn’t be jealous, could he? He had watched earlier as Bronstorm gave some tra
ining with the short sword and the photon blaster. Amelia was a keen student and her left hand was rock solid when she aimed the blaster at the targets that Bronstorm pointed out to her.

  She is left handed. Why had I never noticed that?

  His view of Amelia had undoubtedly changed. He had seen another side to the previous irritating girl whom he had known for many years. Her bravery in standing up to the recent attacks and matter of fact help of the injured Hechkle had impressed him. He knew she was a little fed up with the attention that Evelyn gave him. Who wouldn’t be, it was a little over the top. Evelyn made no secret of her desire for him. A previous simple life was now so complicated by the collective thoughts of three women.

  He smiled to himself. Life is becoming so complicated…listen to yourself!

  ‘I guess it is possible,’ Tyson answered Amelia’s question. ‘It would take a lot of training and power to be able to turn them into such a successful and disciplined army though.’

  ‘Tyson,’ it was Evelyn, carrying a cauldron she had found in the main eating area. He stood up as Evelyn made her way to him. She gave a quick glance of disapproval at Amelia, who ignored her. ‘I have made a crude antidote from crushing up the bluejack that can reverse the sickness.’ Evelyn lowered the cauldron onto the rocky floor. Inside was an unpleasant blue-tinged liquid which had Tyson swallowing hard holding back the queasiness he felt. Was that safe to drink?

  ‘I need your help to administer it. Can you organise them for me, darling?’ said Evelyn, fluttering her eyelashes.

  Tyson laughed.

  Amelia groaned.

  Evelyn’s eyes twinkled.

  Tyson had the men line up next to the cauldron and as Evelyn administered the antidote, Tyson talked to them, sending them images that this will help, soothing their nerves.

  ‘How long will the antidote take to work on them?’ Tyson asked as he held the cauldron.