Prophecy (33 page)

Her smile was replaced by a look they could not interpret. “The problem is, the more energy I consume ... and the more I’m able to control the forces of nature around me ... and the more I’m encouraged to do so ... the stronger the seduction becomes to do whatever I want. With no consequences. I fight this power-hungry addiction to generate mass destruction each time I use this overwhelming psychic energy. I have to control this unregulated power by tamping it with ... consequence.” Ending her speech, she promised to let them know if she learned anything new.

It was the first time Mariah had admitted to the temptation of the power and where it could lead. They were not only concerned for her mental stability and physical strength, they were equally concerned for those that might get in the way of this unrestrained force.

Aleris understood why Mariah kept to herself for most of the trip to Hakilam, but the Three were worried. They found her prowling the spaceship—every compartment, every deck, every inch of space on the
Lepitera
──at all hours of the day and night. They said she usually seemed distracted upon their approach, acknowledging them when she finally realized they were there.

Mariah required a maximum of four hours sleep every three to four days and consumed food only as a social distraction when she infrequently joined them at mealtimes. What absorbed a great deal of her time was engaging the NMIP in continuous rapid-fire dialogue, absorbing Anorasian history and technology at an extraordinary rate. From hers and Sateron’s memories, Mariah extracted centuries of living experiences; not only the history of Earth but of other galaxies they visited.

Mariah’s psychic sending interrupted Aleris’ reverie.

This hybrid gives me no more information than its predecessors
. She looked up from her scrutiny of the nearly white moss-like substance.
The facilities on the
Lepitera
are sufficient for most trials, but I reason I could do much more if I had the lab facilities on Hakilam at my disposal.

Nodding in agreement, Aleris continued to study Mariah. Sometimes her vocabulary was as formal as theirs. To Aleris it was an essential indication that a potent force was succeeding in reforming Mariah physically, mentally, and emotionally. She wondered if anyone but she had noticed this. She even wondered if Mariah knew; however, for some reason, Aleris was reluctant to ask. There was, moreover, no more information about what would happen once the MERS reached Hakilam. This bothered Sateron more than it did her, but she would still prefer not to be surprised.

Mariah swiveled around and their eyes locked. Instantly Aleris felt at peace. She knew her mind was being manipulated, but it was useless to argue the ethics of this type of invasion. Besides she was fascinated. Mariah’s sendings were filled with emotions that infiltrated her senses, something unknown to Anorasian psychic delivery. At first it was disconcerting, receiving information combined with feelings; however it was becoming increasingly more interesting and rewarding.

She felt the presence of her colleague as he entered the lab.
Did I awaken you
? she sent to him.

I was summoned by this one
, he responded grumpily, causing Mariah to grin.

Sorry old man, but I needed to speak with you both and as long as Aleris was awake ... well, you may go back to sleep once I tell you what happened last night, although I doubt you will
.

Galaxaril lay as if dead, physically and mentally drained as never before. Still he relived, with joy, his encounter with the Man’asorai.

The Hevru entered his mind while he slept. Rather, had opened him up, peeled back the layers of mystery and buried desires, delving more deeply than ever the Min’yel’os could have imagined—and discovered his secret, his hidden resources. Satisfied he was who he claimed to be, she had moved back to his conscious mind and awakened him without ceremony.

Never had he trembled so completely before any, including Them. But he now quaked before her awesome might. She was a scintillating presence in his brain likened only to his encounter with Shen’dalah. Before he could address her she informed him that she was not Shen’dalah, had never been, would never be, and he was
never
to treat her as a deity.

Once that was established, she gave him full understanding of her mental and physical being. Bewildered at first, he finally understood her relationship with the dicit: that she was now a creature that took its life force from the universe, sucking on its atomic tit for nourishment. More dynamic than any living entity ever encountered, he realized she could harness enough energy to create a nuclear explosion—and possibly more.

Still it would not be enough. She knew it as well as he. Galaxaril was delighted by her humility as she solicited his aide. Unlike the Min’yel’os, she remained in touch with her humanity.

Nevertheless, beneath the surface he sensed the pomposity of unmitigated power. For now, praise be, it was harnessed by rationale, sanity, and purpose.

When he outlined his plan, she was skeptical that his abilities would suffice. After an hour of dialogue she was finally convinced that it was their only chance against the Min’yel’os who were ten psychics each at a minimum of level seven.

She quit his mind several hours past, leaving him empty and drained but aching for an intimacy he had never experienced with another. Even exhausted he still savored their contact. Never had he known that a psychic touch could be so familiar, so fulfilling, so sensual. Galaxaril was greatly saddened that he would never come to know the human race if she was indicative of its passion and candor.

Finally his mind quieted and he fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

“I made contact with the Minister last night.” Mariah watched the reaction of the two Anorasians closely. “Were you aware that he is close to two million years old? The Min’yel’os have cloned him so many times he has no conscious recollection of his original body. I think they may have even altered him physically for their own amusement.

“So in his spare time, Ton So’Galaxaril has developed a rather unique talent. He claims it is a gift from Shen’dalah, given to him during their only encounter.

“Over the years he’s had autopsies performed on those whose minds have been fragmented by the Min’yel’os. And discovered that they destroy only the part of the brain where the intellect is stored. So he practices and becomes able to partition off a part of his own brain where the Min’yel’os would never think to look. And then he has this vision in which Shen’dalah makes him a Shel’Zib just like Hesad. Into this secretly segmented part of his brain he hides not only this religious fervor, but a white-hot hatred of the Min’yel’os and a small amount of extra psychic ability. It’s made him more psychically potent then they think he is.”

She grinned, admiration for the Minster lighting her face. “He’s been waiting for this Prophecy to be realized; that is, waiting for a being he calls the Man’asorai. He thinks it’s me. For now I’ll allow him to believe this since I can’t refute it.

“But even with the magnitude of energy I’m able to control, I won’t be able to touch the Sho’revra. The combined strength of the Min’yel’os, along with millions of years of technology, has made their lair impregnable. I’d have to blow the planet to smithereens just to get to them. Even if I could, I won’t murder billions doing this.”

She hesitated. Since patience was a genetically cultivated Anorasian attribute (although slightly lessened in Sateron), the two scientists waited until she completed her musings.

“Did I say ‘impregnable’?” Her grin widened, her eyes dancing with excitement. “I should have said
nearly
impregnable. Galaxaril discovered a weakness in their system. And has a plan. It’s dangerous and the odds of succeeding are slight, but it’s the best he can come up with. Reluctantly I have to agree. The only dilemma is once he gives me the window of opportunity to get inside, the Min’yel’os will know it’s him and will destroy his mind. He accepts this. He doesn’t want to live in service to them any longer. He’d rather die in the knowledge that they’ll be totally eradicated.

“One other thing happened about an hour after I broke contact with him.” Her smile faded, a look of unease now shadowing her features. “That bizarre SOS returned. Either it’s changed, or the dicit have given me the ability to read it a bit more.

“Whatever is out there is even more deadly than your Min’yel’os. No star system, no galaxy, no universe—hell, no dimension—is safe from it. Every cell in my body tells me that if it’s not dealt with soon, everything you’ve worked for, every risk you’ve taken, and everything we’re about to do will be for nothing.”

The forward view screen on the
Lepitera
provided a breathtaking sight: Hakilam, so similar to Earth, but with sixty percent of its surface under water. The change of seasons was less pronounced than places on Earth due to only a few degrees rotational tilt. The green belt was a rain forest; the blistering hot belt shone over water, but the water didn’t condense into the atmosphere so there were no dry, scorching deserts; and its brilliant colors shone clearly and distinctly in the unpolluted atmosphere.

Hakilam was the seventh of twelve planets orbiting Cheloran, the yellow sun. It was a star slightly less dense and with a somewhat smaller output than Sol, but far more stable and with a longer life span.

Hakilam was eight thousand miles in diameter, impressively substantial enough to have three habitable satellites—Galiora, Betslim, and Theazarn—that further stabilized the weather, allowing enough atmospheric variation for the rain that maintained the forest belt. Held in relief around it, the three moons were red, gold, and ivory respectively, their hues a testimony to the Anorasian’s love of esthetics.

Before she could do more than admire the view, Mariah suddenly froze, her eyes first widening in fear then narrowing in fury. She turned to the two scientists and said in a hiss, “I have to go back to Izorach. Now. You stay here.”

In a flash of blue-white heat, she was gone.

The ground beneath their feet quaked from the energy beam projectors firing from the Stirilium cruisers.

With the MERS gone, the satellites that monitored the Zubeln star system gave them only basic information: five cruisers had suddenly appeared in Izorachian space.

Emmanuel knew why they were there. He had known the Min’yel’os would retaliate for the destruction of the
Prehendere
. He also knew that, in military fashion, it was logical to destroy your enemy’s camp, giving them no base to return to, thus forcing surrender.

The lab and all its inhabitants were under millions of tons of rock, the Ephres Ridge as solid as the planet itself. There was no place to hide.

As the ground heaved and the stone walls began to shatter and implode, the Three, stumbling and falling to their knees in the upheaval, made their way to the hangar in a last vain attempt to gain their freedom before the complex caved in entirely. They were not psychically strong enough to contact Mariah and had resigned themselves to their fate. Having lived over-long, their sadness at this point was for the animals that would be crushed to death in the Zones and for missing the final outcome of Mariah’s confrontation with the Min’yel’os.

The heat of the energy beam projectors finally penetrated the hangar. The wind in the gorge roared in fury while the walls of the Agrist K’anna began to buckle, its crystals exploding outward to detonate on the canyon floor below. The imminent demise of Izorach was at hand.

As the hangar walls crumbled, Emmanuel thought he saw a presence emerge from the dust and darkness.

Mariah stood as uncompromising and immutable as stone, the comparison all the more startling because her chest did not rise and fall with the intake and expulsion of air. Energy had replaced the oxygen that fed her blood. She no longer processed nutrients and eliminated them; instead, she fed on subatomic particles.

Aleris and Sateron were not surprised when seconds before, the white-blue light of a hyperspatial transport had filled the
Lepitera’s
main compartment. When it vanished, they were thrilled to see Mariah and the Three before them. Covered with rock dust, bruised and cut from falling debris, they were otherwise unharmed.

Not listening to words of gratitude, Mariah moved to the furthest spot forward on the
Lepitera’s
bridge. She never spoke nor did anyone else. They knew she concentrated on the planet below, her destiny hurtling toward her at interstellar speed.

The MERS banked to the left and stopped, awaiting further instructions. They all held their breath, unsure if Mariah waited for the Shekron to acknowledge her or if she was deciding to get close enough to the planet’s surface and try to out maneuver them.

Then their answer came. The NMIP opened a communication port and the holographic image of an Anorasian dressed in the midnight blue of the military elite stood before them.

“I am Shekron Prime Commander Ta’daeu, Military Principal of the
Seftiras
of the Cheloran star system, the heart and brain of the Anorasian Empire. I presume I address the renegade scientists, Ton Re’Sateron and Ton Re’Aleris, they who have disgraced themselves by disregarding Empirical laws. Furthermore we have intelligence that these traitors harbor a tutivillus suspected in the obliteration of the Stirilium Cruiser,
Prehendere
, and the annihilation of its complement.

“By mandate of the Minister of Finance, Chief Official of the Synadracus, Prime Legate to the Min’yel’os, your vessel will be seized and transported to Hakilam where those on board will be dealt with as prescribed by the
Rules of Right
.”

As his holographic image disappeared, they felt a violent jolt as a nascent beam locked onto the
Lepitera’s
signature. The engines on board the MERS automatically tried to break the hold by applying reverse thrust, but to no avail.

“They are secured according to protocol, Prime Commander,” said Bridge Pilot Corvus. The vid-screen showed the
Lepitera
held in the powerful beam. Just as Meron Ta’daeu was about to give the order to return to the planet below, the bridge compartment on board their cruiser suddenly flooded with a brilliant light so overwhelming they were momentarily blinded. The bridge Merons automatically trained their weapon on the fading light.

Momentarily blinded by the light, Ta’daeu’s eyes adjusted to the unnatural glow that remained.

He was perplexed to see a female standing before him. He had not been given any particulars concerning the tutivillus he was ordered to bring to the planet’s surface, but he certainly was not prepared for a creature that appeared, at first glance, to be Anorasian.

His mind was seized and he winced at the momentary pain.

This is the “unnatural being” herself, Prime Commander Ta’daeu. Pleased to make your acquaintance
.

Mariah turned her head to stare at the control panel from whence originated the nascent beam. Her eyes narrowed slightly ... and with a
pop
! the panel erupted. Metal dripped in great gobs onto the command center floor while the smell of chemicals on fire filled their nostrils and caused many to cough.

Spellbound, the bridge crew watched the panel disintegrate. The navigator turned his weapon in Mariah’s direction ... and the instrument flew out of his hand as if his fingers had become lifeless, spinning through the air until it hit the bulkhead wall and fell to the floor.

She turned her gaze back to Ta’daeu, the smile on her lips not reaching her eyes.

I would be ever so grateful if you would quit screwing with my spaceship. I really do not appreciate being dragged like some fucking donkey on a choke rope. I will meet you outside the Sho’revra when I am damn good and ready
.

Rest assured, Prime Commander, you will not have long to wait. For now, leave me alone. I would not want to be thought of as an inconsiderate guest by blowing the Seftiras to pieces
.