Demon Lord V - God Realm (25 page)

Enyo turned
from his console to confront her. "There's only one flaw in your
deterrent plan, commander. It's all very well to have that blade
poised to slice open his heart, but may I point out that he can't
see it?"

"He can
see."

"Jonar says
he's blind."

"He's a damned
dra'voren, and he was able to see when he walked into the trap. He
was following the child, intent on killing her, no doubt."

Enyo looked
puzzled. "A dra'voren doesn't need to be close to a person to kill
them, commander."

"Perhaps he
wanted to torture her first. How should I know?"

"Why don't you
let Jonar heal his eyes, then he'll be able to see the weapon?"

Nikira shook
her head. "No."

Enyo sighed.
"Well, you'll be interested in the results of the tests we ran.
They're certainly amazing."

"I thought he
was waking up."

The senior
contech glanced at his screen. "It might have been a false alarm,
or he might be dreaming."

"All right,
what are the results?"

"Confusing."
Enyo turned to a data screen and activated it. "We took a number of
samples, skin, blood and so on. His skin is incredible. I can't
even guess how old he is. He's got the skin of a child, utterly
perfect and untouched by time."

"And what does
that tell us?"

"Not much, but
here's the real surprise. I examined his DNA, and it's human, but
the only reason I know that is because I've mapped his genome and
found all the human genes in it. But whereas we have a double
helix, his is quadruple. It contains an incredible surplus of
information, and on top of all that, it's perfect, just like the
rest of him. He doesn't have a single bad, defective or inactive
gene."

Nikira
frowned. "But you said he has twice as many genes as we do."

"He does, and
they're all active. They're duplicated, like backups."

"So he can't
be mutated?"

Enyo rubbed
his chin. "Not easily. I bombarded his blood with every type of
radiation I have, with no results. I'd bet even the dark power
can't affect him, and I would say that he'll live a very long
time."

Nikira walked
over to the observation screen and stared at the man who lay on the
table. His clothes had been removed, and a dark blue cloth was
draped across his hips. Enyo joined her.

"We found
another injury, a sprained ankle, and an amazing number of scars.
They're so faint they're almost invisible, but there are dozens of
them, just about all over him. One reason they're hard to see is
because his skin is utterly devoid of melanin, which is why he's so
pale. I have a theory about that. If he uses the dark power, it
would have to pass through his skin, and melanin blocks certain
types of radiation. His lack of it could be an adaptation."

"Why didn't
the lasers burn him?"

Enyo shook his
head. "I haven't figured that out yet."

"Is he going
to wake up any time soon?"

Enyo glanced
at the screen. "No, his brain waves have gone back to a comatose
pattern."

"Let me know
if that changes."

The contech
nodded, and she left the containment room, heading for the bowels
of the huge ship. Two enforcers guarded the door to the hold that
housed the refugees, and saluted as she approached, activating the
door, which slid open. She passed through the mist wall and entered
a well-lighted scene of medieval humanity. The refugees had made
themselves at home and availed themselves of all the comforts the
servitors had provided. Makeshift washing lines were strung between
the hull beams, hung with ragged, coarsely woven clothes in various
stages of dampness.

Most of the
newcomers had used the washing facilities, and looked a good deal
cleaner, although a faint smell of musty cloth hung in the air.
Ablution facilities had been set up on one side of the hold, and
the servitors provided a constant supply of food for those who were
hungry. She made her way through the muttering throng, receiving
many timid smiles. The refugees had broad, plain peasant faces, and
were all adults. The girl they had rescued from the dra'voren was
the youngest, and Nikira found her with the group she had noticed
earlier. They sat on an air mattress, murmuring amongst themselves,
looking clean now and rested, but unhappy. The girl's face was
tear-stained and the old woman was tight-lipped. The fair-haired
girl looked tense and anguished, and an older warrior sat beside
her, his arm around her.

As Nikira
approached them the six men stood and bowed. The old woman and the
girl glanced up at her and smiled, and the fair-haired girl's
expression grew hopeful. She squatted down in front of the young
girl, returning her smile.

Indicating
herself, she said, "Nikira."

The girl
placed a hand on her own chest. "Ethra."

Nikira glanced
at the woman, who said, "Sarrin."

The
fair-haired girl managed a wan smile. "Mirra."

The men
introduced themselves, and Nikira nodded at each of them. As they
sat down again, Sarrin mimed drawing, which struck Nikira as a
singularly good idea. She caught the attention of a wandering
servitor and requested a pencil and paper, which he brought a few
minutes later. Sarrin took the gift with a glad smile and began to
draw, a frown of concentration furrowing her brow.

Several tense
minutes passed, during which time the men, who peered at the
drawing over Sarrin's shoulder, made a number of comments and
looked quite excited. Nikira wondered what she was going to see on
the paper, but was not prepared for the end result when it was
handed to her. The drawing was poor, but there was no mistaking the
deep widow's peak or the slanted brows.

Sarrin tapped
the paper. "Bane."

"Bane?"

Sarrin nodded
and smiled, placing a hand on Mirra's shoulder. The girl gazed at
Nikira with an intense look that she was unable to fathom. Sarrin
indicated the drawing again and spoke in an alien tongue.

Nikira glanced
down at the picture. "That's his name?"

Sarrin looked
uncertain, then placed her hand on her heart. "Sarrin." She pointed
to the drawing. "Bane."

"It's his
name," Nikira marvelled, and nodded.

Ethra snatched
the drawing and clutched it to her chest, her eyes filled with
misery. Sarrin tapped the paper and breathed hard, nodding. After a
moment of confusion, Nikira realised that she was asking if the
dra'voren was alive. When she nodded, Mirra gave a soft cry and
raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes shimmering with tears. Ethra
grinned and turned to Sarrin, speaking several rapid sentences.
Sarrin faced Nikira and tapped her chest again, then mimed walking
and pointed at the drawing.

Nikira shook
her head, amazed that they seemed so concerned about the monster
who had enslaved them. "No, he's dangerous."

Nikira pulled
a fearsome face and made some growling noises that had the men
looking at her askance, then pointed at the drawing. Ethra jumped
up and shouted, her face twisted with anger, and looked on the
verge of attacking Nikira. Sarrin grabbed the girl and pulled her
back down, and the men looked uneasy.

After a short,
sharp rebuke from Sarrin, Ethra subsided, glaring at Nikira. Sarrin
pulled the somewhat wrinkled portrait from the girl's hands and
pointed at it, then pulled the fierce face and shook her head so
vigorously that locks of silver hair came loose from their
fastenings and flew about her face. She then embraced the drawing
with a tender smile. To drive her point home, she rose and pressed
the paper to Artan's face. Making him hold it in place, she knelt
and clasped her hands, gazing up at the portrait with reverence
shining in her eyes.

Nikira nodded
and made soothing motions. "Okay, I get it. You're all brain
washed."

Artan removed
the paper from his face and studied it with a frown. Sarrin sat
down, miming again her wish to see the dra'voren, this time adding
a series of signs that Nikira interpreted as meaning that if she
took Sarrin to him, the dra'voren would be able to translate. Mirra
leant forward, her expression intent; as if willing Nikira to do as
Sarrin asked, yet Nikira got the impression that she could not
understand the old woman either.

Nikira shook
her head and stood up, turning to leave. Artan stepped forward and
pointed at the drawing of the dra'voren before crossing his wrists
in a clear sign on bondage. Nikira hesitated, unsure of how they
would react to the truth, then signed that the dra'voren was
asleep, which seemed to mollify them. Artan smiled and spoke to
Sarrin, who beamed at Nikira. Mirra also seemed consoled, and the
older warrior spoke to her, patting her shoulder.

The younger
warrior, who sat close to her, Grem, stared at Nikira with a level,
measuring gaze, as if he had trouble believing her, which made her
uneasy. Leaving them to eat and rest, she exited the hold, even
more confused and angry. How had the dra'voren brainwashed them?
Some sort of mind control? Would he be able to control the people
around him when he woke up? If so, he was a grave threat, even
bound as he was.

After going to
her office to write a report, Nikira was drawn back to the
containment room, where the contechs had relaxed. They were engaged
in a heated discussion, and fell silent when she entered. She
stopped before the observation window and gazed at the dra'voren
for several minutes, then Enyo joined her.

"No change,"
he said.

"He's taking a
hell of a long time to come round."

The contech
nodded. "Probably an overdose of anaesthetic."

"He's
brainwashed the people who were with him. Their concern for him
is... pathetic. He might have the power of mind control."

"We could
tranquilise him."

"Good idea."
She turned away. "I'm going to get some rest. Call me if anything
happens."

The soft
beeping of her alarm clock woke Nikira, informing her that she had
completed her eight-hour rest cycle undisturbed. She washed,
dressed and ate a light meal, wondering why the dra'voren was still
comatose. After a brief visit to the bridge to ensure that
everything was as it should be, and the ship drifted back towards
base, she returned to the containment room. The atmosphere remained
tense, the contechs uneasy with the latent threat of a dra'voren so
close at hand.

After gazing
at him for several minutes, she roamed the room, studying the
various screens that held information from the scanners set up
around Bane. One showed a complete body scan that monitored his
vitals, including his brain function, which was negligible. The
image of his brain was drawn in cool blue with occasional yellow
flashes. Enyo came in, looking refreshed after his off duty time,
and approached the observation window.

"Still
nothing."

"Maybe he'll
stay comatose until we return to base. The techs there can examine
him."

Enyo nodded,
then glanced around as a soft alarm sounded on one of the consoles.
"No such luck, commander."

"He's waking
up?"

"Looks like
it." He turned to a contech. "Close the door and stand by with the
stunner."

The shredder
room door slid shut, and Enyo studied the body scan screen while
Nikira gazed at one of the video feeds that gave a close up of the
dra'voren's face. Her stomach knotted and bile stung her throat.
For the umpteenth time, she wondered if she had made the right
decision by allowing the dra'voren to live. If he got loose, he
could kill all of them and tear her ship apart.

"Wow, look at
this," Enyo said, and she turned to his screen. The cool blue image
of the dra'voren's brain was turning yellow, and some parts
brightened to orange with flashes of red.

"He's
definitely waking up this time. His heart rate and respiration are
increasing and his temperature just rose two degrees."

Nikira gulped,
her heart pounding, and wondered if she should trigger the blade
that was poised over his heart before he killed them all. Allowing
him to wake up had seemed like a reasonable idea when he had been
deeply unconscious, but now that it was about to happen it struck
her as suicidal in more ways than one. Turning away from Enyo's
scanner screen, she stared at the video image on her own. A muscle
in the dra'voren's neck twitched, then his Adam's apple bobbed as
he swallowed. Dra'voren destroyed worlds, and their power was
apparently limitless. Now she held one captive, but for how long?
An aeon seemed to pass while they waited, and her neck grew stiff
from her tense, uncomfortable position poised over the monitor.

"Whoa!" Enyo
muttered, and Nikira swung around to stare at his screen. The image
of the dra'voren's brain was now entirely red, with flashes of
white in it.

"What does the
white mean?"

"It means the
scanners can't measure that amount of activity. It's off the scale.
A normal brain is never more than a third active, but look at that.
He's using all of his."

Nikira turned
back to the video image. The dra'voren's Adam's apple bobbed again,
and his eyelids flickered. His brows drew together and he licked
his lips. Nikira gripped the console with white-knuckled hands,
fighting a strong urge to order the blade deployed.

"He has a
name," she muttered to Enyo, partly to distract herself from her
terror. "He's called Bane."

"A fitting
name for a dra'voren."

Nikira tensed
further as the image on her screen showed the dra'voren's eye lids
flicker again, then open briefly to reveal his clouded eyes before
they closed once more.

"He's
awake."

"He seems
groggy," Enyo commented.

"That can only
be good."

The
dra'voren's neck muscles tensed, and he raised his head, making
Nikira recoil. After a moment he relaxed, his head falling back on
the steel table with a tinny bonk that came through the intercom.
He frowned, and his arms tensed, testing the cuffs. He grimaced and
turned his head towards his left arm. An alarm from a nearby
console made her jump, and Enyo turned to it with a frown. The
scanner screen, which had been a blank green, now showed the
shadowy image of the dra'voren's hands, and the darkness was
spreading up into his arms.