“Oh, please. Why don’t you do something, tough guy?” Thresha said with a seductive smile. Then to Letho, she said, “He’s bluffing. He knows we can tear him and these fools to shreds. Let’s just kill them.”
“Shut up, Thresha!” Letho snarled through clenched teeth.
But Saul took the bait. The dry, concussive blasts of his sidearm thundered in the air, but Thresha had already begun to move. She slipped through the air, frictionless, dancing her way toward Saul as bullets sped by her on all sides. She pounced, blurring forward, catching him in the solar plexus with both hands and driving him to the ground.
Saul’s soldiers could have obliterated her in that instant, but they obeyed their commander’s last order and did not fire. Letho was amazed at their restraint, their absolute obedience to their commander, whom Thresha now sat astride, one hand pinning him down, the other raised in a clenched fist. Letho didn’t know what to do.
But the arrival of someone new defused the situation before Letho had time to make yet another decision he might’ve regretted later. All attention turned to the enormous steel double doors on the nearby catwalk as the weary machines that moved them began to groan and spit magnificent plumes of steam and the occasional jet of sparks. Letho thought for a moment to use this diversion to his advantage; in fact, Saladin was practically goading him by presenting ways to incapacitate Saul’s men. The vignettes skittered like arachnids across the augmented network of neurons in his mind, and Letho was disappointed to see that most of them ended with at least one of his comrades dead.
But all such thoughts were obliterated when Letho saw him.
An old man, bent by time but not broken. He was still rather thick around the waist, though his flesh seemed to hang in the manner of one who has lost a considerable amount of weight. One gnarled hand clutched a walking stick, while the other arm hung coiled just above a pistol like a pit viper.
“Just what in the hell is going on here, Saul?”
It all unfolded much like a scene in so many of the Eursan films that Letho had watched in his time on the Fulcrum station. The film director would have likely queued up an upbeat synth-riddled pop tune with sparkly guitars and a lively, crunchy snare drum, and would have used quick shots that panned to a close-up of each of the actors’ faces.
“Zedock!” Letho shouted, trying and failing to hold back tears of joy that sprang forth from his eyes, emotion causing his voice to crack like a juvenile’s.
“Je-Ha alive! Is that you, Letho?” Zedock said.
“Dad! I’ve got it under control!” Saul said.
Wait. Dad? Did he say dad?
“That ain’t what this looks like to me at all.” Zedock said, though when he did, at all it sounded more like ah-tall. “Now, I’m no soothsayer, but it looks to me like you’ve brought a goddamn Mendraga to our inner sanctum, and that she’s gotten the better of you—as they are wont to do. Why on Earth would you have done such a thing? You know they can talk to one another by talepetheh.”
“She was with Letho. What the hell was I supposed to do?” Saul pleaded. Zedock’s eyes widened and his brows leapt up, threatening to join his receding hairline.
“That does present somewhat of a wrinkle, don’t it.” Zedock turned to Letho, his look at first filled with reproach; but the old, softhearted man couldn’t maintain the facade, and his eyes began to twinkle with unabashed joy. He didn’t rush to hug Letho, though Letho desperately wanted him to do so. Instead the old man regained his composure and screwed on a face that was more befitting of a leader.
“Letho. I would say that the ball is decidedly in your court. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“She killed her own to save me, sir. She’s on our side,” Letho said.
Zedock turned to the Mendraga. “That true?” he asked.
Thresha nodded.
“Well, I still can’t take you inside. It would violate every rule in our book,” Zedock said.
“You guys actually have a book?” Letho asked.
Zedock ignored him.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Thresha said. “I can take care of myself. I just want a shot at Alastor.”
“Well, that sounds really good, but aside from the aforementioned conundrum, there’s another problem, and it happens to be rather significant. What are you going to eat? You ain’t going to be sucking on my people. And one thing I’ve learned is that we all gotta eat, Mendraga and Eursan alike.”
“You guys have animals down there? Pigs? Or do you dress them up in uniforms and make them your personal guard?” Thresha looked at Saul and his soldiers as she said this. They did not seem amused.
“Very funny. Yeah, we got pigs. How did you know?”
“Pigs will do. It’s close enough to the real thing. And I know you have pigs because the guy I’m holding down here smells a little like pig shit,” Thresha said.
Zedock laughed a little at this, then focused his deep-set eyes on Thresha. “Well, it would go a long way with me if you’d let my son up off the floor,” he said.
Thresha nodded and rose to her feet. She offered Saul a hand, which he grudgingly accepted, allowing her to help him to his feet.
Zedock stepped off the catwalk and onto the suspended platform, past a dumbfounded Saul. He now stood in front of Letho and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s really you, it’nt it?” Zedock said.
“Yeah, it really is me. Sorry it took me so long to get back. I got a little sidetracked,” Letho said. Zedock chuckled a little at this, and then his face became serious again.
“You’re a real square shooter, son, and you’ve never done anything to cause me to doubt your motives in any way. But runnin’ around with a Mendraga in your group…”
“I know it looks really bad. I haven’t figured it out myself. But I’m telling you, she saved my life. You remember the crew that attacked the Centennial?”
“I do,” Zedock responded, tipping his head in a curt nod.
“Well, there was one with them, body all covered in tattoos. Do you remember him?”
“Yeah. He seemed like a real son of a bitch.”
“He was. And she killed him. Saved my life. Ripped his damn head clean off his shoulders. It was disgusting, but also one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen,” Letho said. He chuckled a bit, hoping it would inject a bit of levity into the proceedings. It didn’t.
Letho didn’t like seeing that look in people’s eyes, the telltale expression people wore when they were measuring him, for Letho feared that they would always find him lacking. Most of all, he hated seeing it in the eyes of those he loved.
“I trust you, Letho. God knows it’s crazy, but I trust you sure enough. But you have to know, a lot of things have changed since you’ve been gone. You have to understand that I can’t bring her inside. People are counting on me, son. You understand that, don’t you?”
“But if you cut her loose, she’s going to run straight to Abraxas!” Saul exclaimed.
“There’s that,” Zedock said, clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he drifted into a trance-like state. Letho could practically hear the gears turning in his mind. After a time he spoke: “Well, it looks like our options are either to kill her where she stands or bring her inside. Now, no man can say that I harbor any secret love for the ones we call Mendraga, but it sounds like this one here is a little different than the others. Sounds like she saved my friend on a rather sordid adventure that I can’t wait to hear more about. It might help to have one of the bad guy’s people on our side…”
Saul’s jaw fell open in shock. “You can’t be serious? Bringing one of them inside? There’s no way!”
Zedock cut his son a glance that looked as thought it could burn through the sheet steel doors that loomed open behind him. “Saul, if you learn one thing in this godforsaken life, learn to not speak when your elders are speaking.”