Black Steel (27 page)

Damn. You're in deep shit now, boy.

"Sleel?" Vivian said.

"I need help," he said. "I have to call some people," Sleel said. "My family."

Chapter TWENTY-SIX

WU SWAM THROUGH waters thick and foul with chemical dregs to reach the shore of consciousness.

Had she known where she would arrive, she might have chosen to avoid the effort.

She was lying on her back on a bed, naked, arms and legs spread wide. Her head was turned to the left and she saw a silvery, almost iridescent silk sheet under her. Her arm looked to be unbound, but when she tried to move it, it came up only a few centimeters from the bed before she felt a tug. Her flesh just above the wrist dented, held by some invisible bond. A test of her other limbs revealed that they too were similarly bound by invisible cords at the wrist and ankles. Must be "Tight-beam pressor field," said a voice.

Wu was able to turn enough to see Cierto as he entered the room. He wore a green. silk gown open down the front, and nothing under it. His penis was semi-erect, interrupting the flow of the gown.

Wu strained, but the field holding her would not give past the four or five centimeters' play. It was like pressing against an unseen brick wall built just above her.

"You are wasting your time and energy," Cierto said. "The field is rated at a thousand kilos per loop. Of course, I expect that you must try."

Wu did try, for another ten seconds. Nope. She wasn't going anywhere.

She wanted to ask him what it was all about, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"I expect you are wondering why I brought you here," he said, smiling. "It is quite simple, really. I will have a son. You are to be his mother."

She couldn't help herself. "You're crazy."

"Not at all, dear Kildee. My son will have a mother with spirit. Someday, he will see the recording of you as you slew my five students in your dojo. You were quite magnificent, you know. I can admit that.

You have gotten much better over the years. "

"Last time we met I chopped off your foot. Why don't you give me a blade, and let's see if you are any better."

He laughed. His robe moved a bit farther away from his crotch. "Ah, that will come, but not yet. First you must carry my son to term."

"Like hell."

"It isn't a request. You will do so. Your matador is dead and no one knows or cares where you are."

She felt a pain in her gut. Sleel, dead? She reached into the Void, past it. Maybe Cierto was lying, to break her spirit. It didn't feel as if Sleel were dead. She would know if he was, somehow. Wouldn't she?

"My medics say that your next egg is still ten days away from arriving where my sperm will meet it. But we can practice in the meantime, no?" He slipped the robe off and it fell to the floor. Certainly his intentions were obvious enough now. All flaccidity was gone.

Wu gathered herself to fight him. Then she saw his expression. That was what he wanted, resistance.

Bound as she was, she certainly couldn't stop the rape. But if what he wanted was for her to buck and scream and thus show her fighting spirit-and surely he did, given what he had just said-then she could deny him that.

As he kneeled on the bed between her legs, Wu went limp. And into the Void.

Across the light years the call:

"Dirisha?"

"Yo, deuce. How are you?"

"I got trouble. I need your help."

Dirisha's chocolate face lost its smile. "Geneva!" she yelled. To him, she said, "Where and when, Sleel?"

Sleel felt a rush of emotion but he could not allow it to take him. "Can you get in touch with Bork?"

"Yeah. "

"Somebody has kidnapped Kee."

"We'll get her back," Geneva said, coming to stand behind Dirisha. Neither of them had asked who or why. Sleel couldn't believe how relieved that made him feel. No jokes, no questions except "Where," and "When."

"Hey, Dirisha?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. "

"No problem, Sleel. None at all."

The anger raged in Cierto, burning him into speechlessness. He moved on her, driving, but she lay there, nothing more than a warm and totally unresponsive body. He lifted himself away, still joined to her at the groin, and slapped her face with one hand.

Nothing.

He slapped her again, backhanded. The ring on his middle finger cut her, a small nick over the cheekbone. The scrape oozed a single drop of blood that broke and ran horizonally to the silk sheet.

Still she did nothing else.

He found his voice. "God damn you, you bitch!"

Blood shunted, hormones altered, and his lust dwindled. He shrank, becoming limp, unable to maintain his erection. He shoved hard with his hips, grinding his pubic bones into hers, but his penis bent and slipped out, drooping and defeated.

Dammit!

He shoved himself away from her and jumped from the bed, glaring down at her body. She might as well have been unconscious. Her eyes were open, but they stared into infinity, not acknowledging him.

He stormed out of the room.

Wu knew there might be cameras watching her, so she did not allow the smile she felt to show. But it was there. She had beaten him in the initial encounter. Not a major victory, but one had to take them where one could.

And one battle did not a war make. He would be back.

When Sleel arrived at the port on Rift, he did so under another name. He carried his and Kee's swords in a securitysealed tube, but no other luggage. He took a rental flitter to the port Hilton and checked in.

Somebody tapped lightly at the door to his room. Sleel opened it to see Bork standing there in freight handler's coveralls. Good old Bork, big as a Norse god and twice as strong.

"Sleel. You okay?"

"Better now. Come on in."

Bork moved into the room with a grace befitting a much smaller man. "Dirisha and Geneva are out gathering intel," Bork said. "Superficially the guy's got good security, but it doesn't go back very far. We got the schematics from the guy's house builder, originals are a hundred years old, plus all the additions since. Maps of the grounds, personnel rosters, like that. "

Sleel nodded. "Dirisha come up with a plan?"

Bork leaned against a wall. It creaked. "Well, yes and no. She's got some ideas, but she figures the plan ought to be yours. "

"Mine? Dirisha is the strategian."

"She says you know the territory better this time around."

Once Sleel would have nodded and smiled and said, "Yeah, I can handle it." Now he wasn't so certain.

"They'll be back in a couple of hours."

Sleel nodded again. "Well. How are things with you, Bork? Still married?"

"Oh, yeah. Veate sends her best."

"You get along okay with your in-laws?"

"Yes. Kinda strange to think of the boss as my father-in-law. He says he and Juete will come if we need them. Dirisha told 'em to sit tight for a while until we checked it out."

Sleel smiled. Emile himself offered to come and help. That's what family was supposed to be about.

Damn.

Bork said, "I told 'em I thought that was a good idea, that we didn't need to drag the poor old grandparents out of their dotage yet."

"Grandparents . . . ?"

"Yeah, well, Veate and I, we're gonna have a baby."

Sleel's grin was as big as any he'd had lately. "No shit! Hey, congratulations, Bork! That's great!"

"Yeah, well, I dunno about being a daddy. Course, we'll have you be a designated uncle."

Uncle Sleel. Gods. What a strange thought.

"I'm happy for you, Bork."

"Yeah, I know. You've changed, Sleel."

"I suppose so."

"Don't worry. We'll get her out."

"Yeah. "

Wu rubbed at her sore wrists as she paced back and forth in the gym. Cierto had given her a set of workout clothes, blue cotton shirt and pants, and she felt considerably less vulnerable dressed. He was allowing her to exercise, he said, because he wanted her to stay in good shape. The gym had been stripped of possible weapons, however, even wooden practice swords. That was smart on his part.

Thinking that she would bear him a child was, on the other hand, pretty stupid. She would kill herself first, and despite whatever medical miracles he might have stashed away, she was pretty sure she could manage it. Master Ven had left his body intentionally, so it could be done. She was pretty sure that if she could move far enough into the Void without making any effort to return, she could shut things down permanently. It would not be her first choice to remedy this situation, but it was there as an option.

So. Given that, what else could she do? She could pretend to give in to him, so that he might get careless that way. If while in the middle of rape her hands were free, she could hurt or maybe kill him. A sword was only an extension of one's own body, after all. Allowing Cierto to think he was enjoying even a moment's pleasure with her, however, had only slightly more appeal than killing herself.

She could fight directly when he or whoever he sent came to fetch her after her exercise, but that was probably futile in the extreme. If the place wasn't wired for zap, surely her guards would be armed. They could just dart her again and she'd wake up naked and bound again. No, better to stay conscious as much as possible.

None of her solutions so far sounded particularly appealing. Maybe time could give her some other ideas. She hoped so.

Cierto watched her go through a series of warm-ups, the four cameras giving him views of her from that many angles. He had chosen well, he knew. That she had managed to thwart his first assault on her was, in the abstract, admirable. Very clever, the mother of his son-to-be. She had determined what would be the most frustrating for him in the small time before he had entered her body and done it. Once the anger of the moment passed, he had laughed at himself. You did not want it to be too easy, and she is certainly a worthwhile opponent. So much the better. When she is finally brought to heel, it will be that much sweeter.

Yes. Here was a game worth playing, after so long a time of lesser pursuits. She would fight him, but in the end, she would lose. It was only a matter of time. Once she was pregnant, it would become even more complex.

The four holoprojic versions of Kildee Wu danced athletically before him. Such a woman.

He leaned back in his form-chair and sighed deeply. Such a woman.

Dirisha and Geneva hugged Sleel in a long embrace. Like him and Bork, they also wore civilian clothes.

He felt warmth fill him. After what seemed a long time, the two women stood away.

"Okay, down to biz," Dirisha said. "Here's what we have. Computer on."

The air danced with the images Dirisha called forth from the computer, and she and Geneva took turns pointing out the information for Sleel.

"That's the main house," Dirisha said. "Our overfly was in a commercial liner so we wouldn't spook him. Here's the enhancement . . .''

Sleel watched the pictures and numbers flow past, letting it all sink in and be absorbed. He would view it again, as many times as needed until it became a part of him, memorized to the last detail. For just a moment, the old arrogance flared within him. This Cierto had made a bad mistake. He didn't know who he was fucking with.

The arrogance melted under the memory of Jersey Reason's head bouncing against his leg. But Sleel's determination remained solid. That was a lifetime ago; he had been another man then, a lesser man. Now he was more. And now he wasn't alone.

Hang on, Kee. We're coming for you.

Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

KILDEE WU LAY naked upon Cierto's bed once again, face up. Cierto did not mind that his students saw her that way, and he gestured at her. "Turn her over," he said.

The two hurried to obey.

"Put a pillow under her hips."

They did so.

"Activate the pressor as you leave."

The field reached out and gently caught the nude woman's wrists and ankles, and spread them so that she formed an "X" facedown upon the bed. She moaned softly, still unconscious.

"We will see how strong your resolve is this time," Cierto said.

Sleel considered all the material he had seen and read and the reports from the others. They had all taken elementary precautions, arriving on Rift under false names and registering at different times at different hotels. It was almost impossible that Cierto would or could visually inspect every person who came and went on an entire planet, but even if he did , Bork, Dirisha, Geneva and Sleel had been skinmasked as they arrived, and not wearing their matador gear. So Cierto probably didn't know they were here. They would proceed as if that were the case.

As he lay on the bed in his room, mulling it all around in his mind, he thought about what Dirisha had said earlier. "I'll call it if you want, but I think you ought to do this one."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "You know the players better."

"That's the only reason?"

There was a pause. "You need to do this. I dunno why exactly, but that's what it feels like."

Sleel chewed at his lip. He didn't want to risk Kee's life, he didn't want anything to go wrong, but Dirisha was pretty good when it came to intuition. He'd trusted her too many times not to believe that.

Then again, if he fucked it up . . .

"All right," he said. He would take the responsibility.

That had been the choice and he had made it. He hoped to hell it hadn't been the biggest mistake of his life.

Wu awoke. She realized where she was, that she was naked and bound again, her face pressing into the silk-covered cushion, a softer pillow lifting her hips away from the bed. She heard Cierto chuckle behind her. "Awake again?" he said.

Before he could say or do anything else, however, she went back into the Void. If he would play, then he would do it without her.

Cierto stormed into his office. There was a sculpture of a Yuzmekian water ballet on the bookcase next to the door, a lacy thing carved from green crystal from Rangi ya majani Mwezi, the Green Moon in Bibi Arusi. A dozen swimmers seemed to float in the air, held up by nearly invisible strands of the crystal. It had cost a quarter of a million standards and had been a bargain at that price.