Zein: The Prophecy Read online

  ‘Normally it is more diluted and can take up to five days in tablet form.’ Evelyn shrugged. ‘In this raw state, a matter of hours,’ she surmised.

  ‘How did you know about the treatment?’ Tyson asked, intrigued.

  ‘From time to time the sickness happens. We think it is the atmosphere of Earth, which is more carbon heavy then we are used to,’ Evelyn replied. ‘On Zein we had little sickness I am told. This antidote is centuries old, used when the Zylar of old was wielding his Ilsid to build the Zein Empire.’ Evelyn’s face darkened.

  ‘What would you like to see on Zein, if you did return?’ Tyson asked keen to change the conversation.

  It worked; her gloomy attitude changed. ‘When we are children, we are all shown old records of the summer period…it was beautiful. The two suns were very bright, both much smaller than your sun, the grass long and full of life. Life was simple. They dance, eat and live for summer,’ said Evelyn wistfully.

  ‘Sounds great! Kabel was telling me that winter and the reflection periods are brutish?’ Tyson asked, keen for another’s view on the distant planet. Evelyn’s happy dream-like state evaporated. She administered the potion to the last man and placed the ladle into the cauldron.

  ‘We were shown records of that as well from planet scopes,’ Evelyn said.

  ‘What happens to make it so brutal?’

  ‘The suns are blanketed by thick thundercloud storms and the temperature drops below minus forty degrees by human measurement.’ Evelyn hugged herself as if she was experiencing the cold.

  ‘That is cold. We have similar temperatures in certain places on Earth; can’t you adapt on the surface or move to a warmer climate?’ Tyson suggested. Evelyn released her arms from around herself and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

  ‘It’s not just the temperature, it is the howling winds, tornados, and we can’t move to another climate as the Pod have their breeding grounds there.’ Evelyn wiped a little moisture from her face which had dripped from the roof of the cave. ‘It was tried, believe me. In our history lessons we were told that when our excavators began to dig the foundation for the buildings in the breeding rounds, the Pod had left huge booby traps and the land collapsed in onto itself. Many of our machines were damaged and numerous excavators were killed.’ Evelyn picked up a jacket she had taken up and pointed to the cauldron.

  ‘What?’ Tyson asked.

  ‘Less talking, my beautiful boy, we have others to treat. Amelia, you stay here so they have someone to look over them when they come out of the sickness. They will be a little disorientated.’ Amelia didn’t like being ordered around but a warning glance from Tyson curtailed any disagreement. Tyson picked up the cauldron and they made their way back to Base Station Zero.

  In the communal central area Hechkle and Stern sat keeping a wary eye on the handful of survivors who stood around silently. Evelyn and Tyson repeated the process for the remaining men. When Tyson placed the empty cauldron on the floor, Evelyn took his hand.

  ‘Follow me, I have something to show you,’ she said seriously. She led him to one of the huts and Tyson looked round him and was just going to ask what it was she wanted to show him when she wrapped her body around his and gave him a deep kiss. Tyson responded, his mind a fog. Her body felt good and her lips warm and inviting. The fog melted away and he pushed her way, confused.

  That damn hypnotic trick again!

  ‘So it’s true,’ Evelyn said, her breasts heaving with the passion of the kiss, ‘You Blackstones only have one woman you love for life?’ she said, disappointment in her voice. He was speechless. What was the girl going on about?

  ‘Is it Gemma? I have seen how you look at her, or…is it Amelia…?’ Evelyn watched his face carefully and then began laughing.

  ‘What are you laughing at?’

  ‘You love one girl but are confused about your feelings for another,’ said Evelyn. She rested a hand on his chest. ‘That must be the human part of you…,’ she said playfully. With a touch of regret she patted him on the chest and walked from the hut still chuckling.

  Tyson just stood there. Not knowing what he felt. He composed himself and then strolled across to the two men, who were sharpening their short swords seemingly ignoring everything but in reality missing nothing.

  ‘Can I join you?’ Tyson asked. Hechkle looked up at him with a knowing smile and gestured to an empty seat. Stern didn’t look up and carried on sharpening his blade.

  ‘Will you please tell about how the transportation portals work?’ Tyson asked. Hechkle told him how they break down a person’s or an object’s particles and can then rebuild them at the receiving end as long as the coordinates are accurate and the portal is operational or switched on.

  ‘How do you know the coordinates are accurate?’ Tyson questioned.

  ‘The digital core of the controls remembers previously used coordinates and assigns a place and name so that is relatively easy to teleport. For example each village portal is well known. The Elders in each village can restrict use by a programmed key,’ Hechkle informed him as he placed the newly sharpened sword back into its scabbard.

  ‘What about new coordinates? Don’t you stand the risk of teleporting into a wall or something unpleasant?’

  Hechkle laughed, ‘Not much chance of that, the programmes are sophisticated and will easily recognise objects like tables, walls et cetera.’

  ‘What about tracking people?’ he asked, remembering what had happened to Kabel when they had tracked him to Altrincham.

  ‘Much harder, to find people you can use someone’s DNA and then set the programme to track the main mass, or, if a place,’ anticipating Tyson’s next question, ‘usual mapping of coordinates by planet latitudes and longitudes,’ Hechkle finished.

  Before Tyson could ask any other questions there was shout from the main corridor which opened onto the main settlement area. They all looked round and saw Amelia and Bailey. Following her was a number of stumbling and confused men with their eyes restored to normality. Behind them there was groaning as the other men in the cavern began to come out of their trance-like state.

  Bailey pointed behind him at the newly awake men and with a deadpan face he joked, ‘Hey Tyson, they look like you on the morning after,’ referring to Tyson’s hangovers. Tyson couldn’t help but laugh along with his friend. Nothing ever got Bailey down for long.

  Evelyn was all business. ‘Right, we need to split up. Hechkle and Bronstorm I need you pull the bluejack into the main haulage lift.’

  Beside the two soldiers there were four large haulage carts stuffed with bluejack behind a truck which they had mined earlier. The two soldiers headed off to drive the truck into the large haulage lift.

  ‘The rest of us will escort these men via the main lift,’ Evelyn said, looking around to the Fathom men, who were blinking hard and trying to make sense of what had happened to them.

  They herded the first forty men into the lift and Stern and Amelia got in with them. The doors shut and there was a whishing sound as the lift sped up the shaft to the Core. The remaining group waited patiently at first and then grew restless. The lift took longer than it should do and Evelyn was cursing the slowness of the lift operators when suddenly it returned. They helped the rest of the men into the lift and walked on, shutting the lift doors behind them.

  The lift shot up and the journey seemed to be quicker going back to the surface than when travelling down. The doors opened. Amelia let out a cry of fear.

  Facing them were many guns held by flinty eyed soldiers dressed in the red tunics of the Eastern Quadrant army. Tyson began to summon his power.

  ‘Don’t do it, Blackstone, or the girl gets it,’ threatened Manek Malacca, who held Amelia with a blaster to her head. Tyson weighed the situation up and reluctantly dropped his hands down. Immediately the soldiers roughly grabbed him and Evelyn and tied everyone’s hands behind them, accept Tyson. They took away the Base Station Zero survivors to the holding cells. The others waited.

  ‘
Got something special for you, human,’ said Manek, walking up to Tyson and indicated to the soldiers to hold him tight. He then placed manacles that were glowing red around his wrists. ‘Try to get out of those even with your magics,’ he challenged.

  The remaining four of the group were taken to the main state room where they found Evelyn’s father seated degradingly on a seat to the left of the Fathom Clan throne. His hands were also tied with the same type of manacles that were around Tyson’s wrists.

  Tyson looked at the man now on the throne. He was reasonably tall and his face was flat, as if squashed back on itself. There was a meanness that it radiated, the man’s dark eyes glinting with unconcealed dislike and triumph. Tyson let his eyes wander round the room. The soldiers with the emblem of the Malacca Clan guarded the rest of the Elders whom he had seen on his earlier visit to the Council room. There were no soldiers with the green tunics of the Fathom Clan anywhere. There were a handful of Ilsid soldiers standing near Lord Malacca. Tyson recognised them from the Battle of Old Trafford.

  ‘What have we here?’ Lord Malacca stood up and approached the four prisoners. He walked past Bailey and Stern, who nursed a nasty gash on his head from when he had initially fought capture, and stopped in front of Amelia. ‘What a pretty face you have for a human.’ He reached out and touched her face. Amelia recoiled with distaste. Lord Malacca simply smiled. He continued his inspection and faced up to an increasingly angry Tyson. His face immediately changed.

  ‘Another Blackstone I need to kill,’ he spat out. Tyson looked at him, his clear blue eyes unflinching, face showing no emotion.

  I am going to enjoy planting my seckle in your neck, he thought. He read Lord Malacca’s mind and heard behind the bravado the fear he was feeling.

  ‘Where is the other Blackstone?’ Lord Malacca asked with false politeness. They had not captured Kabel. Where was he?

  ‘No answer?’ He nodded at his son, who turned his blaster in the direction of Stern and shot him. Stern collapsed dead to the floor.

  ‘Why, you evil bastard,’ Tyson shouted, pulling powerfully against the two soldiers holding him.

  ‘Stop or I will shoot the human,’ Manek said, pointing the blaster at Amelia. Her face registered the fear she felt. Tyson stopped struggling.

  ‘I repeat, where is Blackstone?’ Lord Malacca asked again. Tyson, fearing for Amelia, quickly explained that Kabel had not joined them on the visit to the Base Station Zero and he didn’t know his whereabouts. ‘How about you, my darling Evelyn?’ he moved on to stand face to face with the red haired girl.

  ‘I don’t know, I thought he would be here,’ she replied, uncertain. In answer he pulled out his own blaster.

  ‘No. No, you promised not to hurt her,’ Lord Fathom said frantically, trying to stand up which was difficult with his hands tied behind his back.

  ‘I am not going to hurt her.’ With that he turned and shot Lord Fathom in the right shoulder. Evelyn screamed and he backhanded her with his other hand. Again Tyson lunged but Manek waved his gun at him and pointed it at Amelia.

  ‘Don’t feel pity for your father, he has been sending copious amount of zinithium for years to us so we can build our army. He is just another greedy Fathom, in a long line of greedy Fathoms,’ said Lord Malacca.

  ‘Father! Is this true?’ Evelyn was horrified. Her father, who had managed to turn onto the side not injured, dropped his head in shame.

  ‘Father, no.’

  ‘Father, yes,’ said Lord Malacca, in his element.

  ‘Father, you promised me?’ said Manek, looking across at Evelyn.

  ‘Yes, I did. Pity really.’

  ‘What?’ said Evelyn confused.

  ‘I promised he could have you, my little princess,’ Lord Malacca answered. Evelyn’s face went pale. ‘Oh, not in marriage or anything as honourable as that, but he can have whatever twisted way with you.’

  Lord Malacca’s malevolence began to spill out of every fibre, his force-field a nasty dark red shimmered over his whole body making even Tyson pull back. He reached out and took hold of her face, his snarling face so close to hers that his spittle from the words he spat out landed on her face. ‘When he is bored with you he has my permission to pass you to the rest of my guard for their enjoyment. It’s only right that all my men have the ‘princess’ experience…though by the time they have finished you will be no more than the dirtiest whore in the quadrants!’

  Evelyn half collapsed in a state of shock. Her face crumpled with fear and loathing. The Elders were livid. Her father was sobbing in desperation.

  Manek gleefully took hold of the petrified young princess and separated her from the group. ‘Now, my little pretty vixen, you are mine,’ he hissed into her ear. Evelyn struggled against his grip but to no avail. He was too strong. The Malacca prince hauled her off to his sleeping quarters. Tyson made a move to help but Evelyn gave him a sad small shake of her head and looked resigned to her fate. Amelia hung her head in worry, tears glistened on her cheek. She was scared for the young girl.

  Lord Malacca straightened out of his twisted stance and his face returned to respectability as if he hadn’t sent a young girl to a fate worse than death. He strolled back to the captured throne and wearily sat down, ignoring the naked hatred directed at him. He turned to Cronje, who had watched the proceedings unfold and hid his true feelings about the recent events. He was too experienced and carefully kept his face impassive as he waited for his master’s instructions.

  ‘Cronje, take the prisoners and Lord Fathom to the prison cells under the Palace,’ said Lord Malacca, and as an afterthought he pointed to the distraught figure of Lord Fathom. ‘Make sure our friend here receives the best medical treatment. We want him fit and well to identify his daughter’s body.’ Lord Fathom pulled himself up with a roar and staggered towards the malevolent Malacca.

  Cronje stepped in front of him and held him back. ‘Now is not the time, old man,’ the warrior whispered. Fathom stared up at the impassive face of the Easterner and saw the hint of sympathy in the little slits glinting at him. His spirit wavered and he let Cronje direct him to the other prisoners. As they left the Throne Room they could hear the manic laughter of their conqueror echoing round the hall.

  Chapter 22

  Reunion

  Remo stood at the transportation portal controls in the Palace. He had earlier bribed the main operator with some splendid Mee wine. When Lord Malacca and his small party teleported in, he was able to record the coordinates to the Eastern Quadrant Palace and store them in the console’s memory banks. Once the room was cleared, Kabel, Gemma and the Changeling joined him, along with two hand-picked soldiers, Dante and Grampion. They, apart from the Changeling, who had transformed into a wolf, had changed into travelling attire and Remo had lent Kabel and Gemma some old Fathom body armour in case they met any trouble.

  ‘Are we set?’ Kabel asked. He made sure he could access his remaining seckle from a concealed place in his armour. He had earlier explained to Lord Fathom the plan. Lord Fathom had no issues except not to let the Malacca party become aware of the subterfuge. He had also spoken to Remo to look out for any communication centre which could be disrupted if negotiations did not go to plan.

  Gemma reached inside her armour and felt the contours of her own seckle. On witnessing Gemma practise skilfully with Kabel’s, Remo had sought a deactivated seckle from the office stores. Gemma was overjoyed, liking the balance and lightness of the weapon.

  ‘It is harder to use against a person,’ said Kabel thoughtfully, thinking back to the two men he had killed near the Falls. Gemma sobered up and realised that until she used it in earnest she needed to tread carefully.

  ‘I have the coordinates to the Eastern Quadrant Palace, what I need now is a piece of your hair?’ Remo asked. Kabel raised a quizzical eye. ‘With your DNA, if your sister is there, we can teleport nearer her rather than directly to the portal,’ he explained patiently. With no further hesitation Kabel took out his knife and cut a lock off his ha
ir and handed it to the warrior. Remo inserted the hair into a receptacle and then closed a domed lid over it. His fingers worked fast across the controls as he pushed in the Eastern Quadrant Palace coordinates.

  ‘Ready?’ he said, looking at his companions. They all stepped into the portal as Remo flicked the last lever and followed them in. Their bodies shimmered and in a flash of blue light they teleported.

  Kabel watched as the room around them steadied and then became reality. He was in a bedroom. A grand bedroom with a four poster bed, with fine embroidered bed sheets. His sister wasn’t there but he felt her presence. His excitement rose; she was alive.

  ‘This is her room,’ he stated confidently. Gemma turned to him and gave him a big smile of encouragement. Remo peered outside the window; the parade ground was full of row upon row of soldiers. He beckoned to the young Lord. Kabel, quelling his excitement, walked across the room to join Remo at the window.

  ‘What are they all doing?’

  ‘No good, I presume. I think Lord Fathom may have a rude awakening,’ said Remo, shaking his head.

  ‘We should go back and warn him,’ said Gemma.

  ‘Too late,’ Remo pointed to the first set of soldiers filing into the Transportation building. He turned his attention to the heavily guarded bunker. ‘We would better be served finding out what is in the bunker over there,’ Remo said, pointing to the bunker. ‘That mast is worrying…I wonder,’ he seemed to be considering the unthinkable as his face carried an increasing worried frown.

  ‘Why?’ Kabel asked, more concerned about finding his sister than what may or may not be in a bunker.

  Remo didn’t answer immediately. His face was thoughtful. Realising that his companions were waiting for him to speak he said, ‘The last time I saw something like that antenna it was on the original Expeditionary Force ship stored away in the Southern Quadrant Palace.’ The others looked at him none the wiser. ‘When we came to Earth we sent ahead probes, like your satellites,’ he pointed to Gemma, ‘which you started sending up into space in the 1950s. On the ship there was an antenna similar to that; I have seen it. The antenna was able to communicate with the probes all around the Earth. It would have probably disrupted all of your more basic communication networks back then.’ He waited for them to catch up with what he was trying to point out. Their vacant looks meant that they still hadn’t joined the dots. ‘What I am trying to say is that this is a carbon copy, if not the actual antenna we used. The only purpose I presume is to control Earth communications.’