The Morakh remained impassive. Mon’aella crossed to the fallen assassin, knelt, and touched his temple.
Sekal shook his head. “They must have kidnapped Jild. There’s evidence of reconstructive surgery.”
“But the mind,” Blaise pressed. “You fucking knew this guy. You must be in on it.” Sekal blanched and staggered to his feet.
Mon’aella shook back her hair. The diamonds braided into the red-and-white locks rang like ice bells. “They stole more than Jild’s appearance. He’s a soul eater.”
“What the fuck is that?” Blaise demanded.
“A mind control so powerful it becomes more like a mind drain. You take on the other personality – voice timbre, gestures, memories, everything. The strain on mind and body is profound. Soul eaters don’t last long.”
“We will retaliate, Raiyis,” Diverous said, overeager because he had been spared Blaise’s wrath.
“You’re damn right we will,” Blaise said. He looked to Durg. “Alaa, they had that big moon base on Fel’k, right?”
“Yes.”
“Nuke it.”
“What?” Diverous gasped.
Blaise ignored him, stressing instead to Durg, “Destroy it.”
“My lord,” Sekal said. “There are many thousand people living there.” Even this most loyal of loyal followers was shaken.
“I know. But nobody fucking tries to kill me!” Blaise suddenly screamed.
“We will retaliate, and we will not fail. Ruek of House Alaa will die,” Durg said, trying to penetrate the killing rage.
“You’re damn right you won’t fail. You’ll destroy that base!” Blaise was still shouting.
“My lord, that is not our way,” Durg said, his voice low and tight.
“That’s because it isn’t done your way anymore, it’s done my way. Mine! Do you understand me? Now do as you’re told, or I’ll have you killed too!”
Blaise whirled and stormed away up the stairs, his guards trotting to keep pace. Sekal, Diverous, and several others of the cabal who had assisted Blaise to power gathered in a tight huddle. Their anxiety penetrated Kelly’s shields.
Now do you see what you’ve done, the bogus prince thought bitterly. War is great, but genocide’s kind of a bitch, ain’t it?
Mon’aella released a held breath in a sharp little puff. “Well, that’s gratitude. Not even a thank you to you,” she said, glancing over at Kelly.
Kelly chewed on bile. Shook his head. “I’m just as glad he didn’t notice me.” He pictured again all those pretty little bubbles on the surface of Fel’k exploding, collapsing in flames. Tears stung his eyes. “Oh God, what have I done?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Jesus Christ!” Jay Ackroyd exploded. “Doesn’t it ever run down?”
Hastet shifted the screaming infant to her other shoulder and resumed patting. “She’s unhappy.”
“So am I… I have to listen to her.”
“I’m doing the best I can!” Hastet was on the verge of tears. Haupi, sensing her mistress’s distress, huddled closer to Hastet’s side. The creature seemed to share Jay’s sentiments on wailing babies. She kept weaving her head and mock striking at the swaddled noisy bundle.
“Well, what the fuck’s wrong with her?”
“She’s a telepath. She’s been separated from her mother. I can hold her body, but I cannot touch her mind. She’s angry and frightened.”
Another drawback to this telepathy shit. Jay sighed. “Is she eating?”
“Some.”
“Gimme the bottle.”
Jay stood up and almost cracked his head on the low ceiling of the compartment aboard the Ilkala-to-Alaak maglev train. Groping in his case, he emerged triumphant with a hip flask. Opening the bottle was another matter. The self-heating element sparked, and burned his fingertips. Cursing, he sucked at his fingers, then resumed his struggles. The nippled top came off, and Jay poured in a splash of potent Takisian brandy.
“Here. I suppose it’s more humane than hitting her over the head with a bat.”
Hastet teased the nipple across the baby’s mouth. Illyana screamed louder, then took a tentative suck. Another. Then the sound of contented nursing filled the compartment.
“Yep, that’s Tachyon’s kid.”
“The prince will never forgive me.”
“What the prince don’t know won’t hurt her… er, him.” Jay peered out the window. Saw dark. “Look, now that the ground sloth has quieted down, I’m gonna cut down to the diner and get us something to eat. Okay?”
“Yes, fine.” She never even looked up. Her total focus was on the baby. “Sleep, kuket, sleep.”
Shaking his head over the power of biology, Jay slid open the compartment door and made his swaying way down the narrow corridor. Takisians tended to be gregarious people: They enjoyed conversation as much as their food, music, dancing, and fighting. So when Jay walked into an absolutely silent refreshment car, he knew some serious shit had hit the proverbial fan. The holostage was on, and a news anchor was reporting in portentous tones about casualties estimated to be at six thousand. A low moan swept through the crowd.
“What’s happened?” Jay whispered to a man leaning against the wall near the door.
“Vayawand has just destroyed Alaa’s moon base. There appear to be no survivors.”
“Shit.”
“Alaa is attempting to retaliate, but Raiyis Blaise had troops already massed on the border. There’s heavy fighting in Alaak.”
“Great, that’s where we’re headed.”
“You maybe,” the man said. “I’m getting off in Fanja.”
“Hastet benasari Julali has closed her restaurant. Isn’t that interesting?”
The so-casual way Taj asked the question put Tisianne on guard. Slowly she dropped the re’ba’bi and bow and rested them on her knees. Pandasala had done a good job creating the illusion Tis was still pregnant, but the padding dragged at her weary, aching body. The bed was beckoning, and fourteen hours after her grueling labor had ended, Tis was in no mood to be entertaining. Especially with the news coming out of Alaa. Surely Jay would have heard and made adjustments to the plan.
She forced her attention back to Taj. “Is there some reason this should interest me?”
“Your human is very interested in Hastet.”
“Jay is very interested in women. Did you like that music? It’s Mozart, a human composer who I think stands up well to Takisian comparisons.”
“Very nice.” Taj stood and wandered the room, paused to handle an exquisite antique vase. “I haven’t seen Ackroyd brant Lois for several days.”
Tis shrugged and reminded herself to push off awkwardly from the settee. She waddled toward the table. Taj was suddenly blocking her way.
“Spare me the performance, nephew” And gripping the neck of her gown, he yanked, ripping it away to reveal the padding.
For a long moment they matched looks, then Tis pulled the mutilated edges of her gown together. “How long have you known?”
“M.I.S. has been on her since your human first became involved.”
“I could have trusted you,” Tis mused.
“No. If I’d known in advance, I would have stopped you. But once you’d succeeded so brilliantly, I couldn’t bear to interfere. It was a routine psi scan early yesterday morning that revealed your mental signature.” Taj ended with a shrug.
Tis slowly removed the disguising padding and laid it aside on the bed. “I realize you must show diligence for Zabb,” she said slowly, then looked at Taj. “But I thank you for the time you did give them.”
She held back nothing during the interrogation save her sisters’ involvement in the plot. She hoped her candor would keep Zabb out of her head. It hadn’t worked. Zabb twisted everything from her mind. Not content with the details of the plot, he absorbed, dissected, and examined her life, dreams, goals, hopes, and fears. So now she added to an aching body an aching psyche. It was mind rape, and she flung the accusation at her tormentor as she struggled to break the psychic embrace.