Alien Hostage (9 page)

“Let me make one thing clear, Basma. You will pay in blood for this attack on my daughter. We will hunt you down, and we will rip the flesh from your living bones as you scream for mercy.”

The one major concession the Imperial Clan did make was to pull Crown Prince Wayne from training camp. He was kept under close guard at all times. For the first time during Clan Clajak’s rule, guards stayed within their apartments around the clock.

The Royal Guard did not provide that service. The entire force was under investigation. It had been during their watch that the princess and her cousin had disappeared. The disgrace was a huge blow to the organization. To be a member of the Royal Guard was among the greatest honors a Kalquorian could aspire to. That a member of their number had tried to abduct Empress Jessica a couple years prior was discussed at great length among Kalquorians. Had they been completely infiltrated? Were they under the exclusive command of the Basma? The rumors flew as investigators and interrogators began the work of discovering those who were no longer loyal.

Global Security stepped in, providing personal security for the royals. Imperial Father Yuder had so recently been among their number that they were judged to be still loyal to the rulers. The heads of departments and Global Security’s executive administration were ruthless in their mission to guarantee that fidelity. They went as far as to record their officers’ every movement even when they were off duty.

It was discovered that Matara Tasha had been served a drink laced with drugs. The Imdiko stylist who’d given it to her alerted investigators that he’d been put up to offering it by another stylist, Dramok Cral. Cral had disappeared the night of the princess’s abduction and no one had found the first trace of him.

Another stunning development came when experts, looking for evidence of a cloaking device that may have been used to sneak the abductees away, found instead signs of disturbed electrical patterns in the nursery and on its balcony – a sign of alien phasing technology discovered a few years prior. Only a few military contractors had access to such technology, leading to mass raids by investigators.

Noelle’s tracker sent no signal for the searchers to follow. Though it seemed impossible, some speculated she had somehow been taken off the planet. Every ship known to have left Kalquor’s space was tracked down and investigated. None were found to have any evidence she’d been brought on board. With that avenue exhausted, search efforts concentrated on Kalquor. The company that had manufactured the princess’ tracking device had all its operations suspended as it was investigated. The owner and his board were hauled into Global Security’s offices to face endless hours of interrogation. Even the doctor who had implanted the device, a man who had always been believed to be above all reproof, was subjected to interrogation. Dr. Flencik was the clanmate to the head of the capital city’s branch of Global Security, but that did not spare him days of questions under truth-telling compounds.

The Galactic Council’s member planets offered manpower and resources to help find the missing child and her cousin. Even Bi’is, long an antagonist to Kalquor, sent overtures of aid. Every resource was employed to chase down sightings and rumors in hopes of finding the abductees.

Yet two days slipped by with no evidence and no sign of how they had been taken or where. Princess Noelle and Natasha Salter had disappeared without a trace.

*  * * *

Empress Jessica entered a patient’s room in the hospital’s Matara psychiatric unit. She left the four Global Security officers guarding her in the hall after they peered inside the room and stationed themselves around the door that snicked shut behind her.

Jessica looked around the patient’s room, much as she looked at every area she entered now. Even in the most unlikely places she couldn’t keep from searching, searching, searching. Her gaze begged for a sign, a remote hope that her daughter would suddenly appear and everything would be all right.

However the room, one she’d visited regularly for the past five years, was the same as ever. The smell of antiseptic cleanliness was as familiar to Jessica as her own perfume. The walls were softly padded to keep their lone occupant from hurting herself should she suffer one of her infrequent impulses to fling herself against their surfaces. That hadn’t happened in so long that the doctors considered putting the longtime resident in a regular room.

The sleeping mat was the one piece of furniture in the space. It had the softest of linens, brought in by Jessica herself. The window vids were tuned to the nearby seascape, bringing bright sunlight into the room. An art vid automatically switched to a new masterpiece to be enjoyed every couple of hours.

Otherwise, it was an empty place. As empty as the blue-purple eyes of Matara Narpok, the woman who had lived in this tiny room for the last few years.

Narpok had fled the real world with all its horrors, overcome by the trauma of being sexually victimized. How long she’d endured the torture by a clan of traitors – men aided by her own Dramok father – no one knew. Robbed of all sense and speech, Narpok couldn’t tell them.

Only once in a great while did Narpok exhibit signs of any real life. Usually it happened when male orderlies were around. She would somehow become aware of their presence and scream, an awful lost sound coming from vocal chords raspy from long disuse. Like the episodes of driving her almost six-and-a-half-foot frame against the walls, the instances of shrieking had not happened in a long time. Once Narpok’s therapist Govi had figured out she reacted to men similar in looks to her former assailants, he’d vetted her orderlies for appearance.

Narpok sat on her sleeping mat as she always did. Her long black hair hung lifeless to her waist. Her skin looked dull. Her face, just as lifeless, wore a slack expression. She was still a large Amazon of a woman, about eight inches taller than Jessica. She didn’t seem strong for all her size, however. Narpok had lost weight during her long convalescence. While still muscled because of the natural Kalquorian predisposition for bulk, Narpok looked wasted and sickly.

She stared at nothing, uncaring of the world that had gone on without her for five years. Unaware. Jessica stared at her former rival for Clan Clajak, feeling a moment of envy.

What the empress wouldn’t do to forget the last few days. She thought she would gladly trade places with Narpok and forget that her world teetered on ruin.

Jessica had spent the time since Noelle’s disappearance going through the motions of ruling and caring for things beyond the sudden loss of her daughter. She kept moving because if she didn’t, she would end up like Narpok. Jessica had never known such terror. When the Basma took Noelle, he’d ripped a portion of her heart out. Every moment felt like dying, made worse because she never realized the relief of death. Instead fear and grief mounted, fed by every second that passed without knowing if Noelle was healthy, if she was even alive.

Where is my baby? Is she okay? Is Tasha all right and taking care of her, or is Noelle alone among enemies?

Tasha’s disappearance ate at Jessica too. For one thing, she adored her cousin. They had been friends for as far back as Jessica could remember. For them to have parted right after Jessica had chastised her filled her with guilt.

Jessica could only fend off the horror of the situation by continually moving. She asked for updates on the search every hour. She checked the news vids for any reports. She constantly commed Nobek Raxstad, a close family friend in Global Security. She contacted her searching clanmates begging for information. Jessica did everything but jump in her shuttle and wander from home to home to ask if anyone had seen anything, anything at all.

Jessica didn’t dare stop for fear that the true awfulness of the situation would crash down and crush her. She couldn’t even sleep because who knew what nightmares would assault her? She felt guilt when the stim tabs she took wore off, allowing her to feel exhaustion. How could she think of sleep when her daughter was missing? She had to find Noelle. There had to be some way of locating her baby.

Yet Jessica knew everything that could be done was already in motion. Empress or not, her continuous begging for information helped no one. The helplessness to do anything wore on her, and so she did whatever she could to pretend she made a difference.

One such task was making her regular visit to Narpok. Jessica had hoped to find some sense in normalcy, so she’d decided to perform a duty she did several days a week. Standing in the patient’s room now, that hope faded fast. She moved across the soft padded floor and sat down next to the blank-eyed woman anyway.

“Hello, Narpok.”

Jessica’s voice sounded hollow, without hope. No, she couldn’t give up. The Basma would not harm Noelle. He had to know it would turn all but his most ardent followers from his cause. She must not give any outward hint of how lost she felt.

Jessica floundered for something to say to her silent companion. Usually she told Narpok all the latest goings on in her personal life, as well as the current most talked-about topics in the Empire. Jessica would talk for an hour with no hint from the sad soul she spoke to that anything was heard. She had shared her thoughts about the rebellion, her fears when Wayne went off to training camp, the ideas she had for bettering conditions for the people of Kalquor. Sometimes she brought Noelle to play at Narpok’s bare feet.

Remembering the many times she’d brought her daughter with her as she’d tried to coax Narpok to rejoin the world brought a choking sensation to Jessica’s throat. What was she doing here? Why was she visiting with a woman who didn’t care whether Jessica showed up or not? She should be in the emergency command center with Clajak and Egilka looking over reports as they came in. She should be sitting with Wayne to make sure no one got to him too. She should be out there, looking for Noelle in every corner of the Empire.

The horror came back, its black tide drowning Jessica. Her baby was gone without a trace. Noelle was gone.

A scream welled in her throat. Jessica had fought it off innumerable times before, but it always came back, each time stronger than ever. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop it from being voiced this time.  It shoved its way up, and her mouth opened wide to unleash it.

Instead of the soul-rending shriek she expected, the cry of a dying animal moaned from deep in her gut. It was an ugly sound, the sound of a damned soul with no hope of redemption. With it came a torrent of tears, gushing in a flood from Jessica’s eyes.

The awful moan that wouldn’t end formed words, words Jessica wasn’t consciously aware of speaking. Yet she heard them and knew they were hers, pouring a litany of unfathomable anguish.

“My baby. The Basma took my baby. I can’t find her anywhere. Where is my baby? Where is my Noelle? Noelle! Noelle!”

The words ended as abruptly as they had come, cut off by the massive seizure of grief that contracted Jessica’s stomach. She bent double as the moan resumed, interrupted by harsh sobs that ejected from her wide-yawning mouth.

Jessica cried and cried, the pain too vast to be denied any longer. How long she barked the sounds of agony she didn’t know. She wasn’t aware when the arm of another wrapped around her shaking shoulders. Realization that someone held her and stroked through her hair with a gentle touch came by slow degrees.

When Jessica finally became conscious of the comforting trailing of fingers through her chestnut hair, she blinked away the tears blurring her vision. Her guts eased their violent contraction enough for her to straighten and face the person showing her such compassion.

She looked up, stunned to see her kind attendant was the long-silent Narpok. Narpok, who gazed at her with wide eyes. Eyes filled with anger and pain.

Chapter 7

When not on duty at the district’s fire prevention office, Wekniz enjoyed being in the company of his clan. Years ago he and Nur had been gregarious men, out among friends and enjoying themselves at clubs and parties. They still had some social contacts through their jobs, but for the most part theirs was a lonely existence. The isolation was necessary to be kept out of Maf’s crosshairs as much as possible.

Falinset had already started separating himself from society by the time Wekniz had met him. Shamed by the truth of his parentage and trying to protect himself from his biological father’s machinations, the strong-jawed Dramok lived in fear of Maf finding out too much about his life. Maf, respected by those outside his realm of poisonous influence, was not to be given any information if possible. He wielded others’ dirty secrets as lethally as a Nobek used a blade.

Keeping themselves secluded was not easy, but it had to be done. Wekniz missed the friends he’d had on Kalquor. It was hard to not accept social invitations from his co-workers. The Nobek acknowledged he had little choice in the matter, but the loneliness was still hard to take.

Once in a while, he did require being alone. Visits from certain people sent Wekniz out into the woods to walk and process impotent anger and occasionally kill something to spend that anger.

Falinset’s mother Feyom was one of those who upset Wekniz. She’d visited their home for the second time in a week, dropping more hints that Falinset needed to bond with Maf. It ended with mother and son screaming at each other, mutual hatred pouring from their mouths like poison. It was Feyom’s odious presence that sent Wekniz out into the woods that night, stalking among the trees as he tried to rid himself of fury.