Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) (137 page)

Lucifer stared at the fringed, linen shawl folded neatly on the shelf.
Both
versions of Lucifer seemed to be obsessed with the little chieftain, which gave Eligor hope that someday the two sides might reconcile.

"All I remember is that I started to fall, and that he caught me," Lucifer said. His eerie silver eyes met his. "Why is it, that your memory and my memory of the event are so very different?"

"It's not different," Eligor said. "What you remember is real. It's just out of context, that's all. I think by then you had won him over?"

Lucifer's eyes glazed, and then the good twin was gone. The evil twin ran through his morning routine of stretching, as if his body was an unfamiliar suit, and then focused on Eligor with his icy silver eyes.

"Good morning, Eligor," Lucifer said.

"Good morning, Sir," Eligor replied.

"What were we just talking about?"

Eligor felt the intrusion into his mind, much more powerful and less subtle than when the good twin did it.

"You asked me about the angry young chieftain."

"Ahh, yes," Lucifer's lips curved up into a predatory smile. "I had plans for him, but General Hudhafah forced me to leave him behind. Quite a loss, really. I always
did
like the ones who were fearless."

Eligor didn't dare ask
'what kind of plans.
'  It was none of his fucking business, but given what had happened with the
last
human male he'd pulled out of Lucifer's room, he had a pretty good idea.

Lucifer's grin broadened, showing his perfect, white teeth.

"When you've existed as long as I have," Lucifer said, "you find novel ways to amuse yourself."

'You mean a pet…'
Eligor thought to himself.

Lucifer's smirk faded.

"You woke me up before giving me my medicine," Lucifer asked. "Why?"

His expression was watchful, a cobra watching a mouse. Eligor felt the intrusion into his mind. He told the truth.

"Because I don't trust Zepar," Eligor said. "The dose he gave you is far higher than it normally is. Before I shoot up the Prime Minister of the Alliance with anything questionable, I want to hear it from his own lips that it's what he wants."

Lucifer laughed, but it had a raucous, sharp edge. Not humor, but the laugh of a victor to the conquered.

"Why Eligor," Lucifer said. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you cared."

"Just doing my job, Sir," Eligor stated blandly. He forced himself to think menial thoughts and not pick at his fingernails until he felt the intrusion leave his mind.

"Very well," Lucifer said. "Ready my shuttle. I'll meet you down there as soon as we exit hyper-space. Set a course for the Sata'anic Forward Operating Base."

"Yes, Sir," Eligor said.

Lucifer glanced at his trophy wall.

"On your way down there, stop by engineering and procure two extra FTL cores," Lucifer said.

"Two?" Eligor said. Warp cores were worth an emperor's ransom this far out in the uncharted territories. Carrying an extra as backup was prudent, but two of them? When they were just setting down on the planet?

"Two."

"Yes, Sir."

Eligor left Lucifer to do whatever psychotic, mind-reading, split-personality Prime Minsters did to get ready to meet with one of their enemy's highest-ranking generals. He retrieved the FTL cores, and then headed down to the flight hanger to prepare the shuttle for launch. In the spot next to him, two Nephilim loaded whatever was on the carts onto a brown Nephilim shuttle.

The flight hanger grew deathly quiet as Lucifer made his entrance, white wings flared, dressed in an outfit suitable for addressing a head of state. He moved as though the entire universe was his plaything, and in a way it was, this man who had outsmarted not just one god, but
two
of them. The goons fell into line behind him, intimidating bookends, and joined Ba'al Zebub and his guards. The six of them tromped up the ramp and buckled themselves into the shuttle, the two highest-ranking officials from enemy empires, both now renegades, both of them eager to carve out a piece of the galaxy for themselves.

"We're about to drop out of hyperspace, Sir," Eligor said. He flipped the switches to fire up the engines.

"The moment we do," Lucifer said, "I want to be out of here. I've waited long enough to implement this plan."

Eligor nodded, and then focused on his pre-flight procedure to fill his mind with nonsense. There were plenty of things to think of when taking off and landing, it was those lengthy shuttle runs which always worried him with Lucifer able to read his mind.

The
Prince of Tyre
dropped out of hyperspace. The moment it did, Eligor announced to the Captain they were taking off. Within minutes, they had cleared the second set of airlocks and were free of the ship, floating above the prettiest blue orb of a planet that Eligor had ever seen. Its oceans were the same color as Asherah's eyes had been, and over the southern continent a hurricane had spawned off the coast.

"Earth," Eligor said. "Refuge of the last bastion of humanity."

The radio crackled, a challenge from the Sata'anic battle cruiser
Jamaran
orbiting the planet. "This is restricted airspace. Return to your ship or you will be fired upon."

"This is Special Agent Eligor from the
Prince of Tyre,
" Eligor replied in fluent Sata'anic. "We have Lord Zebub on this shuttle along with two of your men. Ba'al Zebub demands passage to meet with General Hudhafah."

"Prove it, Angelic," the lizard hissed.

Eligor glanced back to the three lizards in the passenger section. Ba'al Zebub hissed with irritation, and then leaned forward, causing his chair to groan in protest.

"This is Ba'al Zebub," the corpulent lizard hissed. "Who is this? And who do you serve under?"

"Specialist Tasleem, my Lord," the lizard hissed. "Sir? How do I know it is really you?"

"You will know it is me when not only are
you
denied the opportunity to take a wife," Ba'al Zebub growled, "but every one of your brothers."

There was a tense moment of silence.

"
Tyre
shuttle-1," the lizard finally hissed. "You have been given permission to fly straight to the base, but if you veer off-course, General Hudhafah has given us authorization to blow you out of the sky."

Eligor closed the heat shields over the windshield, relying upon instrumentation to make this part of the descent. The shuttle grew warm as atmospheric friction glowed red into the tiny side-portals, coloring Ba'al Zebub's green skin to make him look like a gigantic, purple dinosaur. At last they hit the stratosphere. Eligor opened the heat shield so he could see where he was flying. It was nighttime on this part of the planet, pitch black without the light-grids of a civilized world. Lucifer was right about one thing. If the Eternal Emperor ever got his hands on this planet, he'd declare it off-limits in a heartbeat. These people hadn't even invented iron weapons yet!

He set down in the Sata'anic Forward Operating Base. Even with his limited formal military experience, he could see that things on the FOB were not well. The lizards lit up a flight circle for him to land, but beyond that the base was curiously dark. What lights existed were bonfires and torches, and all of the Sata'anic shuttles were lined up, wing-to-wing, not out on missions the way they usually were whenever Shay'tan annexed a new planet. Eligor had no idea why the supply armada had lingered at the wormhole bridge, but it had, and the Sata'anic base appeared to be the worse for it.

'Good…'
he thought. Just because he didn’t
hate
the lizards the way some of the enlisted men did, didn't mean he liked them, either. They were enemies of the Alliance, and the only use he saw for them was when Lucifer needed to bamboozle them into helping him fend off and even
bigger
threat. Like the Tokoloshe…

The ones embedded with the armada which was hot on their tail…

Yet one more reason to get this over with so he could get the puppet prince back someplace where a doc could shrink his head.

Ba'al Zebub heaved his girth up out of his seat and waddled to the hatch. Eligor glanced back to make sure Furcas and Pruflas had positioned themselves to defend the door in case this thing headed south. The dead-eyed goons gave him a subtle nod. Eligor scanned the perimeter of the ship using his eyeballs and the cameras. It was hard to see with the runway lit up so poorly, but neither the infra-red nor the heat-seeking sensors picked up anybody standing anyplace other than where they were supposed to be.

He released the door latch. The ramp slid down. This was a fairly sizeable shuttle, complete with a cargo hold, a bunk room, a full bathroom and a miniature kitchenette for long-haul runs, but when Ba'al Zebub walked, he was so obese it made the entire ship shudder. Eligor secured the cockpit, and then hurried aft to provide a third gun.

"General Hudhafah!" Ba'al Zebub hissed in the Sata'anic language. "As I promised, I have returned."

"Where's my armada?" the burly lizard general growled, straight to the point as always. His sturdy tail hung behind him, not tucked up as was normally the case when a subordinate spoke to a superior.

"It's about three weeks behind us," Ba'al Zebub said. "They experienced delays coming around the Monoceros Ring, but now they're on their way."

"The armada is nearly five months behind schedule," Hudhafah hissed. "Do you have any idea what deficiencies my men have suffered because
that
idiot positioned his ships to cut off my supply routes?"

Eligor didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until that point. Okay. Hudhafah still didn't know that both Lucifer and Ba'al Zebub were considered renegades by their respective empires.

"General Hudhafah," Lucifer purred with mock charm. He flung out his arms in a magnanimous gesture as though he embraced the entire galaxy. "It's so very nice to meet you again."

"I don't know what you're up to, Angelic," Hudhafah growled. "And I don't like it."

"It's not
up
to you to like it," Ba'al Zebub hissed smoothly. "Only to obey, Shay'tan be praised."

Hudhafah and the entire contingent of lizards who'd come with him made the prayer-gesture to their foreheads, their snouts, and their chests, repeating the familiar adulation. If ever Eligor needed any proof the gods weren't omniscient, it was the fact these men praised Ba'al Zebub.

Lucifer glided down the off-ramp, white wings extended so they picked up the light from the bonfires and made it appear he radiated sunlight from his feathers. Yeah, sure, Eligor had white wings too, but when Lucifer did that, he always looked so … regal.

"Come, General," Lucifer's expression was that of a father speaking to a son. "Let's not quarrel. We have excellent news! But not out here. Let us meet someplace secure, and then I would appreciate a tour of your female training academies."

Eligor trailed behind them, pretending not to listen, until they disappeared into a crude stone building. He leaned against the rough-hewn stones, surveying the landscape as he got his first-ever look at an ongoing Sata'anic annexation that wasn't fighting to fend off
them
. Two burly Marid guards had been assigned to babysit him. The blue-men stared at him in silence, neither hostile nor friendly.

A small, slender lizard scurried out of the building. A short while later, he came back with a tall, swarthy-complexioned human male wearing a combination of Sata'anic and Angelic clothing. It took Eligor a moment to recognize that the man beneath the short-cropped hair, his face shaved and wearing an abundance of modern weaponry, was none other than Lucifer's angry young chieftain, the one who had tried to bury a knife into his chest.

Lieutenant Kasib stopped in front of Eligor.

"Your master requested that
you
search this man for weapons this time," Kasib said in Galactic Standard.

"What? He doesn't trust you after the
last
time you dropped the ball?" Eligor asked. He turned to the man. "Okay. Tell him to spread 'em so I can frisk him for a knife."

The man responded without being asked.

"I see you've got him trained," Eligor chuckled.

The olive-skinned man met his gaze, his obsidian black eyes filled with a hint of anger.

"I … no … stupid," he spoke in halting Galactic Standard. "You want search? Search. I no make …trouble … for Alliance … Príomh-Aire."

Eligor raised an eyebrow. So? Lucifer's pet had picked up a bit of Galactic Standard since they'd left him? Had Kasib taught him just that phrase? Or had was he fluent like Ninsianna was?

"Take off your coat," Eligor ordered. "Now spread your arms and legs. I'm going to pat you down."

The man did as he was told. Eligor told him to remove his pulse rifle, which by the green indicator was fully charged. Recognition niggled at his brain as he pulled a knife out of a belt-holster and recognized the bejeweled handle.