Being of the Field (43 page)

Anselm didn’t doubt this was the truth. Actually it was making more sense than just about anything had in fifty years. ‘Forewarned is forearmed,’ he said, taking her hand to aid her to rise.

‘Nothing is more important to me than Taren’s safety,’ the queen assured him. ‘Words cannot express my gratitude to you for saving her from my sad fate.’ She bowed her head, indicating the heaviness of the burden she carried. ‘Now I have to devise a way to save the rest of my people.’

‘I will help you,’ Anselm said, and with a fingertip under her chin, he raised her face to look into her eyes. ‘You’re not alone any more.’

With his words, the queen’s tears began flowing anew.

‘I sincerely apologise for forgetting the conception of our daughter, but I can assure you there is no one more sorry for that memory loss than I.’

His apology made her smile. It was an eon since she’d been charmed by anyone. ‘I still remember every little detail,’ she said softly. ‘If you’d care to remember…’ she added in a seductive manner, and held her right palm up, her fingers splayed wide apart.

Anselm was curiously aroused by the offer. ‘You can convey your memory to me?’

She nodded, delighted that he seemed disposed to accept her proposition. ‘If you wish it.’

‘I can’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon.’ He led her to a lounge where they could be more comfortable.

Out in the corridor, Taren advised Ringbalin that she needed to speak with Lucian alone.

‘I understand that you do.’ He suppressed a smile.

‘Will you be okay?’ Taren didn’t like leaving the pacifist alone among a throng of Valoureans.

‘We’ll see no harm comes to him,’ a tall blonde Valourean was quick to say, and her company all agreed with great enthusiasm.

‘Very good,’ Taren replied. She looked at Ringbalin, knowing that he must have touched them with his gentle, compassionate love for all things, just as he had obviously touched her mother. ‘Will you please let me know the minute they are out of conference?’

Balin was a little unsettled by the request. ‘As I have been given a royal pardon, I really do need to be getting back to Module C as soon as possible,’ he said to Lucian.

‘Noted,’ Lucian confirmed. ‘I’ll see what I can arrange once the conference is over.’

‘In that case…I’ll let you know as soon as it is.’ Ringbalin frowned, resigned to waiting. He’d expected to find Zeven on board the Sermetic craft and so get spirited back to AMIE. ‘Where has Starman got to?’

‘On board AMIE, I expect,’ Taren explained as she backed away to lead Lucian to the quarters she’d been occupying. ‘One guess as to what he’s doing right now.’

Ringbalin was amused. ‘I won’t expect him any time soon then.’ He looked back to the females around him.

‘Tell us about Module C,’ the Valourean in charge suggested, and she could not have picked a better topic to keep Balin’s mind occupied.

‘How did you do it?’ Taren was bursting with anticipation to know how Lucian and Balin had freed her mother, but the captain was distracted by a couple of Sermetic agents walking by and came to a standstill. ‘What is it?’

‘All these guards have throngs of ghosts following them about.’ His eyes were glued to the apparitions that Taren couldn’t see.

‘Lucian…’ Taren took hold of his face and directed his attention back to her. ‘Are you seeing ghosts?’ Inside, her heart welled with excitement and warmth to the point of overflowing.

He gazed down at her and nodded. ‘I breathed the air of Oceane—’

Taren was overwhelmed with emotions. ‘For me?’ Her eyes filled with tears for she knew how reserved he was about all things supernatural.

‘I love you, Taren whatever-your-second-name-really-is,’ he replied, a little teary-eyed himself. ‘I don’t suppose they’ll let me marry you now that you are royalty and a prominent politicians daughter—’

‘
They
don’t get any say in it…’ Taren wanted to annihilate that obstacle just in case he ever really did get it into his mind to propose. ‘…because I am not giving myself to any man but you.’

She kissed him with such enthusiasm that Lucian had to hold her back to make a suggestion. ‘Ah…you have a room, I believe.’

Taren realised they were attracting an audience in the corridor. ‘Let’s go.’ She grabbed hold of his hand and led the way to the whistles and encouragement of the onlookers.

‘I suspect Khalid Mansur wishes to kidnap you,’ Lucian informed Taren once they were alone.

‘Well, why not?’ Taren said frivolously. She wasn’t worried, as she had no idea who he was beyond being her father’s viceroy. ‘Everybody else has had a crack at it.’ She stripped the shirt from Lucian’s body and kissed his bare chest.

‘He has Powers,’ Lucian warned, although he couldn’t help smiling as clearly nothing mattered to Taren beyond their union this very second.

‘So do we.’ Taren envisaged the clothes vanishing from her body onto the floor, whereupon she felt her person lightened of the load of fabric.

Lucian was delighted and sincerely impressed. ‘Will you marry me?’

Taren knew he wasn’t being serious, but moved in closer to engage her desires. ‘In this universe and the next,’ she affirmed with a kiss.

Khalid had not hidden the cursed crown in Heavensgate. He had a secret place where he stashed his riches.

In a deep crevice in a wide, remote canyon on the surface of Sermetica, there was a place known as Dead Man Downs. There was an abyss of embittered thought-forms to be found there, remnants of a human holocaust.

After Phemoria’s revolution, several shiploads of men had been launched to Sermetica. There had been no one qualified to operate the craft, no supplies, little oxygen and water, but plenty of fuel to make it to their destination with no known survivors.

Dead Man Downs was where those craft crash-landed.

Inside the least damaged of the shipwrecks, there were quite a few skeletal remains, but that didn’t bother Khalid. He felt the bones added to the dark ambience. Since the craft had plunged to the bottom of the canyon, it was forever in shade, and inside the wreck, some of the rooms, especially the executive lounge, were still usable, even comfortable. However, Khalid did not come here for the décor; he came for the
atmosphere
, which was electric with fear, anger, pain, suffering and other negative emotions that filled him up and made him brave enough to be more ruthless and cunning than the next man.

Khalid willed the lights and air-conditioning on, although none of the ships systems actually worked any more and had long ago run out of power. He placed the case containing the crown of Phemoria on the coffee table, to observe it while he mixed a drink. ‘This should be interesting,’ he muttered to himself. He took a seat on a lounge and rested his crossed feet beside the metal case on the table. ‘Disengage lock and open lid.’ He sipped at his drink, pleased that this spectacular theft had been so easy.

The sound of angry females emanated from the case as it opened and a huge seething ball of red energy burst forth from the crown and simmered furiously near the ceiling of the luxurious lounge.

Khalid Mansur,
it hissed, as five veiled women appeared nearby.

‘Ladies, how nice of you to come.’ Khalid held up his glass in mock salute. ‘I don’t know if you are aware of this, but your planet is up for a bit of a change in management.’

How have you stolen the crown of Phemoria?

‘Does it matter?’ he asked cheerfully. ‘What does matter is that you have something I need…Phemoria. And I have something you need…a ruler for your planet and the crown by which we shall control that ruler.’

A man will never control Phemoria!

‘Really? Then I’ll bury this crown in a desert and the Phemoray will become nothing more than a brooding pile of ill-will in the wilderness…much like the wretched souls you condemned to this sweltering abyss. Better still, I could bury your crown here and you would spend an eternity at the mercy of the men who owe their damnation to you,’ he threatened. The women took his threat seriously and humbled themselves.

No, we beseech you.

‘I appreciate that it would not work in our favour if I were to be known as the ruler of Phemoria. It is the world’s resources and political backing that I desire. So, fear not, I will not rule directly…I will impregnate your princess and deliver her and the crown to you, to control until my daughter comes of age to rule.’

The Phemoray were not in a good position to argue.
But you are her uncle.

‘Who better than a Prince of Phemoria to father your next queen?’ he spat out, and the female apparitions bowed their heads. They had no choice while the crown was in his possession.

We accept your terms.

‘Thought you might,’ Khalid grinned, and ordered the lid on the royal case to close. The Phemoray and their angry mass of female thought-forms vanished. ‘This take over just keeps getting sweeter all the time.’

‘So how did you do it?’ Taren finally asked, having expended all her accumulated sexual yearning for the present.

‘Three spirit beings talked me into snatching the queen’s crown from her head.’ Lucian looked down at Taren, who had her head resting upon his bare chest.

‘You saw Azazèl?’ Taren asked in astonishment.

‘I don’t know. The only name I caught was Armaros,’ Lucian replied, to Taren’s confusion. ‘Have you seen these beings?’

‘Light-filled spirits, one of whom, Azazèl, appears very much like you? Yes, I’ve seen them. They saved me from the Phemoray,’ she told him, delighted and amazed. ‘But I was astral travelling at the time…you saw them whilst still in your physical form, which means you’re a
medium
.’ She was so very elated for him.

‘I see through walls, too,’ he added, revelling in her excitement.

‘X-ray clairvoyance!’

‘So my higher self saved you from the Phemoray, even when I could not,’ Lucian said, finding the idea very reassuring.

‘Azazèl is not just
your
spirit self, but
our
spirit self,’ she enlightened, and Lucian was pleased and discomforted at the same time. ‘Overwhelming, isn’t it? He told me we were…the male and female sides of himself.’

‘No wonder I was so attracted to you when we first met.’ Lucian’s mind boggled. ‘What were the chances of us ever finding each other?’

‘Very good apparently,’ Taren said with a grin. She went on to explain what little Azazèl had revealed to her. ‘We, and others of our soul-group, are constantly drawn together to accomplish what none of us could accomplish alone.’

Lucian smiled, liking the sound of it. ‘That rather removes the loneliness out of life.’

Taren agreed and calmed down enough to remember the point of this conversation. ‘So Azazèl advised you to remove my mother’s crown. Why?’

‘It said the crown was cursed and while she wore it she would be of no assistance to me,’ he explained.

‘You trusted a spirit?’ Taren was flabbergasted.

Lucian shrugged off her disbelief; he knew he’d been a total sceptic. ‘He was yelling and threatening me with failure if I did not comply,’ he joked about his blind faith, but Taren was incredibly proud of him.

The door chime sounded, and Taren and Lucian both scrambled around quickly, finding clothes and trying to put them on. ‘Wait a second.’ Taren thought them both dressed and then moved to unlock the door.

‘That’s sure going to come in handy,’ Lucian said, as his panic subsided at finding himself fully dressed once again.

Ringbalin was startled when the door was answered so quickly. ‘Your parents are asking to see you.’

‘Are they still being civil to each other?’ Taren winced, not fancying her chances, but hopeful nonetheless.

‘From all appearances they are in fine spirits,’ he told her happily.

Taren looked to Lucian as he joined her by the door; he was as

amazed as she. ‘Could the ancient feud actually be coming to an end?’

‘Let’s go find out.’ Lucian took hold of her hand and they followed Ringbalin’s lead to the council chamber.

Taren was stunned to find her mother unveiled and smiling, and her father beaming with delight.

‘You will be happy to know that a new relationship of cooperation has been formed between Sermetica and Phemoria today,’ Anselm informed Taren, unable to keep his eyes off Qusay-Sabah Clarona.

‘I can see that,’ Taren replied. ‘So does this mean no more having my memory erased, no more hide-and-seek—’

‘Not exactly, no,’ Anselm was sorry to say. ‘You will be under guard until I can find Khalid Mansur and address certain claims that have been made against him.’

‘What?’ Taren had other plans. ‘No way, I—’

‘I’m only talking about a few days,’ Anselm beseeched her.

‘Look, I’m really pleased that you two have worked out your differences, but how about we consider what I want for a change?’ Taren posed and her parents felt they owed it to her to hear her out.

‘All right,’ Anselm conceded. ‘What is it you want?’

‘I—’ Taren was interrupted when a guard entered with Kalayna in tow.

‘Sorry, Mr President, but she insisted.’ The guard kept one hand on Kalayna’s shoulder, just in case her intrusion was not welcome.

‘No, it’s fine,’ Anselm said. He knew her and knew she was embroiled in all this too.

‘Thank you.’ Kalayna watched the guard leave and then turned to them. ‘I would not have come if my news wasn’t urgent,’ she began
and thought about where best to start. ‘Since my agent programming was broken, I’ve been remembering some things from my past. The most repugnant of which was my recruitment into the SS by Khalid Mansur. Right before he wiped my memory, he confessed to being responsible for me losing my job. He killed my father to get to me—’ She began shaking as tears of fury flooded her eyes.

Ringbalin moved in to place a hand around Kalayna’s shoulder and his calming energy gave her the strength to continue.

‘But I also recall him doing something that I did not see again until I met Zeven Gudrun. He didn’t know I saw him and knew I wouldn’t remember in any case.’ A smile threatened to form on her lips. ‘The man has PK,’ she advised. Some in the room knew this already, but most did not.

‘That changes things,’ Taren said, concerned that a man who wished to kidnap her could find her with a thought at any time.

‘Hence the twenty-four-hour guard,’ her father concluded.

‘Is Mansur after Dr Lennox?’ Kalayna guessed.

‘So it is rumoured,’ said the queen.

‘Never fear.’ Kalayna felt very proud to be able to provide reassurance, showing them her handheld silver device. It was shaped like a very large, slightly squashed cigar. ‘This is what I call a psychic neutraliser. It performs the same function as the restraining bands, but from a distance of up to thirty metres.’

All present were completely astounded, and Ringbalin backed away to give her the floor to demonstrate.

‘I can see why Khalid went to such great lengths to recruit you,’ Taren commented, feeling safer already.

‘I have a gift,’ she grinned, excited. ‘I am a thaumaturge.’

No one was any the wiser, bar the queen. ‘That is an ancient art. I’ve never come across anyone in modern times who claims to have such a gift.’

‘Kassa said that thaumaturgy was known as the “art mathematical”, the ability to construct complex mechanical devices that are ahead of their time, which is how the inter-system gateways were constructed, or so it is theorised. It’s like I can pull blueprints out of the future with my mind, and within existing machinery I can see the
components that will fulfil the brief, then the engineer in me constructs the device and…ta-da!’

‘Have you tested it?’ Anselm wondered.

‘I have,’ Kalayna said. ‘A shot from this weapon will incapacitate psychic ability for a little under two hours.’

‘About the same time it takes for a field to re-stabilise after wearing a restraining band,’ Anselm noted. ‘How does it work?’

As her tutorial drew to a close, Kalayna was suddenly fearful and she felt an ominous presence near her.

Khalid materialised behind Kalayna and, with a knife to her throat, he removed the psychic neutraliser from her hand. ‘You’re all supposed to be dead,’ he snarled, firing the new pulse weapon at Anselm, the Queen of Phemoria and Taren—all those known to him to have psychic talent. They staggered and gripped hold of each other as the force of the pulse bullet knocked them backwards. ‘I don’t appreciate having my secrets betrayed,’ he told Kalayna as he sliced his blade across her throat. Blood streamed from her wound as Kalayna dropped to the floor and Khalid faded to invisible once more.

Ringbalin rushed over to help Kalayna, but the cut was too deep…she was already dead. ‘No, no, no!’ He could not believe he was bearing witness to another tragic and brutal slaying inside a week and he collapsed into tears.

Lucian grabbed hold of Taren’s hand, whilst straining to try and spot their foe.
If I’m a medium, why can’t I see him?

Taren was suddenly yanked from Lucian’s grasp and Khalid reappeared as he dragged her further away—his knife at her throat. Lucian, Anselm and the queen all took a step towards them in protest.

‘Khalid, don’t do this,’ Qusay-Sabah Clarona appealed to him. ‘She is your niece—’

This news shocked everyone in the room, including Anselm. ‘Khalid is your brother?’

‘My half-brother,’ she admitted.

‘On any other planet I would be ruler and you, dear sister, would be nothing but marriage fodder for political gain. But,
no
, I had to be born a bloody Prince of Phemoria, to be completely disinherited from birth.
Well, I intend to change all that,’ he advised them. ‘Speaking of which, the little princess and I really do have to go, as we have a wedding to arrange.’

Lucian launched himself towards Khalid, who vanished with Taren, and the captain fell to the floor empty-handed. ‘Sonofabitch,’ he yelled, finding his feet to express his frustration. ‘What will it take to keep this woman in my life?’

The queen and Anselm could only sympathise with his feelings. This unexpected turn of events had them all baffled and distraught.

‘We’ll find them,’ Anselm assured Lucian.

‘I have agents who can—’ the queen began to say, but Lucian, who was still sore at these two, for a great many things, snapped.

‘
Stop
helping us!’

‘I didn’t detonate that bomb on your craft, captain,’ Anselm said, to set the record straight, ‘that was Mansur’s order—’

‘I don’t care any more.’ He looked at his dead technician, of whom he’d grown very fond in the time he’d known her. ‘Your kind of assistance gets people killed! My project had a full complement of crew and between the two of you I have lost all bar five! I’ll find Zeven Gudrun, and we’ll handle this.’

‘And just how do you propose to aid Taren?’ Anselm was dubious as to the captain’s capacity to be of help.

Without disclosing too much, Lucian replied, ‘Do you believe in guardian spirits?’

Anselm would have completely disregarded the implication had his daughter not told him just recently that she had one.

‘I do,’ replied the queen, with a nod to grant him permission to act on her behalf.

Anselm sighed, persuaded to have a little faith. ‘What do you need us to do?’

Zeven and Aurora lay naked on the observation room floor, amid a pile of their discarded clothes. In the wake of their passionate outpouring, which had lasted several hours, on and off, their muscles had begun to fail them and so they had paused to catch their breath.

‘I just can’t go on…’ Aurora gasped for breath. ‘…although I still want to.’ She found enough energy to roll over and kiss Zeven before collapsing once again.

‘I think we’ve pretty well exhausted every possible sexual aspect of this lab anyway,’ he laughed, only now feeling a twinge of guilt for stealing this brief interlude amid the chaos AMIE was embroiled in at present. ‘I suppose I should let someone know where I am.’

Aurora was reluctant to let him go again. ‘No,’ she protested as she rolled over to prevent his escape. ‘Stay with me forever.’

‘I intend to,’ he assured her with a kiss as he slid out from beneath her.

‘And Kalayna, too?’ Aurora sounded disheartened. She was thinking he would like Kalayna so much better now that she had a Power like he did.

‘Hey,’ Zeven was alarmed to see her tears returning. ‘I care about Kalayna but if I had to choose between you, I’d choose you.’

‘You do have to choose.’ Aurora’s emotional state deteriorated before his eyes as she explained how they had spied on the captain, and how Kalayna had used the information they gleaned to acquire herself a Power. ‘The only reason she picked me up in that bar in the first place was because she’d been programmed to.’ She collapsed into Zeven’s arms and wept.

‘Just you and me from now on then,’ he whispered, and his sincere resolve had a calming effect on Aurora. ‘And that’s the way it should have been all along.’

Aurora raised her teary sights, astonished to hear him say so.

‘I should have asked you out that night and I’m really sorry I didn’t.’

She smiled broadly. ‘Apology accepted,’ and she kissed him again.

Quite often, Aurora’s kiss would induce a kind of euphoria in Zeven, but what he felt right now was not like that. At the same time it was all too familiar.

You’ve been summoned,
announced an overconfident voice inside his mind, one that had possessed him before against his will.

Sammael, don’t you dare…
Zeven protested and before he could grab one stitch of clothing, he was being hurtled through space to an unknown destination.

Lucian, although he was not a spiritually savvy person, had had the foresight to realise that if the spirit he’d encountered was, in fact, his higher self, then as a medium he could call on this spirit for counsel and aid, which he did.

Azazèl and his comrades had responded to the call at once and charged Sammael with rousing Zeven Gudrun.

Zeven materialised before the President of Sermetica, the Queen of Phemoria and his captain in the council chambers…nude.

As the pilot materialised, Lucian noted the spirit step out of him and leave the poor fellow wavering in his stance.

Sammael.
Azazèl was annoyed at his comrade.
We are not supposed to directly intervene. We are supposed to inspire and guide—

He’s lying naked with a beautiful woman, he is not listening to any guidance I might have in regard to leaving,
Sammael responded, defending his action to Azazèl and Armaros, and neither being could argue his logic.

When Zeven realised where he was and who was present, he immediately covered his private parts and imagined himself clothed. The weight of the fabric manifesting on his form was a great relief.

‘Your…um, highnesses…’ He nodded to the last two people he would have expected to see in the same room as his captain. His eyes drifted to a bloodied stain on the carpet and his concern trebled. ‘Where is Taren?’

‘That’s exactly what I need your help to find out,’ Lucian advised solemnly.

‘You don’t know?’ Now Zeven really felt guilty. He should have got back to her sooner.

‘She’s been kidnapped by Khalid Mansur—’ Lucian began.

‘Say no more,’ Zeven said and closed his eyes to focus.

‘No, wait…’ Lucian grabbed hold of Zeven’s arm to warn him about the new weapon in Khalid’s possession, whereupon the captain was whisked away to the surface of Sermetica with Zeven.