She fought against the paralysis of her own self-disgust. Alicia's bottomless hate and hunger hissed and crackled before her, and she feared them. She, who had never known fear, knew terror as she confronted her equal. It would be so easy to hold her hand, to wait out the last fleeting minutes and let death separate her from that seething well of power, for Alicia DeVries was a Fury, fit to destroy even an immortal.
But Tisiphone had learned too much, changed too fundamentally. It was her fault, she'd told Alicia, and hers the price to pay.
She paused for one blazing second, drawing in her power, and attacked.
-=0=-***-=0=
Alicia DeVries howled and lurched to her feet, pounding her head with clenched, bloody fists. She staggered, writhing in her agony, and rebounded from the uncaring battle steel of a bulkhead. She went back to her knees, beating her face against the padded deck sole in a blind, demented frenzy, and chaos raged behind her eyes.
The blood-red ferocity of her madness shuddered as Tisiphone drove into it, and thunderbolts of raw, unfocused power flayed the Fury with spikes of agony she had never been meant to know. Fury opposed Fury, clawing and gouging, and there was no mercy in Alicia. She lashed out, frantic to kill, to destroy, to avenge all her loss and torment and suffering even if she must drown a universe in blood, and Tisiphone screamed in soundless pain under the avalanche of hate.
She could not reply in kind—she would not! She had said she was more skilled to wound than heal, and it was true, but this time she would heal or perish herself. She refused to strike back. She absorbed the killing blows without riposte, and drove a tortured sliver of her being towards the wound in Alicia's mind—the bleeding hole to Hell that filled Alicia with madness.
She touched it, only for an instant, and staggered as she was hurled away. Bits and pieces of her own being were ripped from her, added to the holocaust reaching to consume her, and she clawed her way back into its teeth. Somewhere behind it she heard the sobbing of a little girl—a mortal girl alone and terrified in hellspawned darkness—and groped blindly for her hand.
-=0=-***-=0=-
Tannis Gateau sat silent at the com station, face bloodless. Sir Arthur Keita stood beside her, one arm around her shoulders, and a display at Ben Belkassem's elbow raced downward, counting off the moments left to live.
Ninety seconds. Eighty. Seventy-five. Seventy. Sixty-five. Sixty. Fifty-five. Fifty—
And then the oncoming Fasset drive swung aside, clawing away from its deathride with frantic power, and Ben Belkassem wrenched his own course to the side while Sir Arthur Keita leapt for the com and began bellowing orders for Vice Admiral Horth to cease fire.
Epilogue
The elevator door opened, and Ferhat Ben Belkassem stepped onto the flight deck of the refurbished starship Megarea. Alicia DeVries unfolded herself from the command chair, immaculate as of yore in midnight-blue and silver. Her hair was its natural color once more, spilling over her shoulders in a tide of sunrise, and Ben Belkassem decided it went even better with the uniform than her black hair had. He held out his hand.
"Ferhat." She took his hand in both of hers, squeezing firmly, and he marveled again at the way her smile got inside a person. The fanaticism and hatred were gone, yet they'd left their mark. There was a new depth in her cool, jade eyes, a softness. Not a weakness, but a new strength, perhaps. The strength of someone who understands how utterly any human, however remarkable, can be reduced.
"Alicia." He looked around with a smile of his own. "How was the shakedown cruise?"
"Why not ask someone who knows?" a voice said from a speaker, and his smile turned into a grin. "As a matter of fact," Megarea continued, "it went even better than the original builders' trials." The speaker sniffed. "I told them we could increase the drive mass."
"Must have been a shock for the yard to have the ship talking back."
"It was good for them," Megarea insisted.
"Probably." His eye fell on the chair still sitting beside Alicia's, and he settled into it with a little sigh. "Never thought I'd sit here again," he said softly, rubbing the armrests gently.
"You almost didn't get to," Alicia agreed. She could talk about it now with only the faintest twinge. She remembered every horrifying moment, yet the memories held no terror. They were only memories—and warnings.
"How's Tisiphone?" Ben Belkassem asked after a moment, and Alicia smiled wryly, stroking her temple unconsciously.
"Still here—though I'm not too sure Tannis and Uncle Arthur really believe in her even now."
"Ha! They believe. The Emperor doesn't hand out citations—not even secret ones—to figments of the imagination. They may not agree on what she is, but they know she's there." He cocked his head and eyed her curiously. "Speaking of whom, I sort of had the impression she'd be ... Well, moving on once the job was over."
"So did I," a voice said wryly in Alicia's mind.
"Should I tell him?"
"You may as well, Little One. I would prefer not to keep secrets from him—nor am I any too sure we could if we tried!"
"I'm afraid she can't 'move on,'"Alicia said to Ben Belkassem. The inspector raised his eyebrows, and she sighed. "Something happened there at the last. I don't understand it—I'm not even sure Tisiphone does, really— but we both came so close to, well—" She paused and cleared her throat, and Ben Belkassem nodded.
"She stopped me somehow," Alicia continued softly. "There was a ... a hole inside me. I'm not sure I can explain it, but—"
"I believe I can, Little One. With your permission?"
Alicia blinked in surprise, then nodded and sat back to listen to her own voice.
"At first, I did not understand what Alicia had done, Inspector," the Fury said through Alicia's mouth, and to his credit, he didn't even flinch. "I had sealed a portion of her mind—a mistake which almost destroyed her, for she is not a person to submit to transgressions tamely."
Ben Belkassem nodded, watching with fascination as Alicia turned pink.
"She attacked the barrier I had built and breached it, and in the process she accomplished still more. I was made three in one, Inspector. There were ... connections between my selves, but I lost them when I lost my sisters. Or so I thought, for in truth, they exist still. One set I extended without even realizing to Megarea, and so we were able to accomplish much, yet I was in control of that linkage, however little I recognized it.
"But I was not prepared when Alicia forced open the other. Sir Arthur, as you know, once speculated that I was some manner of secondary personality, created when Alicia awakened inherent psionic capabilities of her own. He was wrong, but not entirely. She did possess such talents, latent and undeveloped but powerful, and I did not recognize them. I am inclined, as you may have observed, to arrogance. I do not apologize. It is my nature, yet because of my arrogance, I had always scorned human minds.
"That," Alicia heard "her" voice turn wry, "is no longer the case. Alicia has cured me. My presence awoke that capability to reach in through the unused link I had forgotten, and through it she tapped my basic structure. Even the best of human minds—even Alicia's—is not equal to that. I have learned much from Alicia, yet I remain what I am, and it drove her mad."