Legend Beyond The Stars (28 page)

When the soldiers hustled her around the corner, she heard squeals and cries behind her, resonating with fury and fear. So the other women were being dragged from their beds, too. Had Tarak’s promise they would be safe been nothing but empty words? Was he another man who could not be relied on? Or was he being betrayed by his father? Or by another?

Grimly Alana realised the answers to these questions would have to wait. Their very lives could be at stake.

Thoughts and half formed plans for escape spun through her mind as she and the other women marched through the dark streets towards the chutes. But too many silent soldiers trooped beside them.

Heavily armed soldiers. With reluctance she shelved the notion of making a break. Even if she evaded the soldiers alone, the thought of leaving the other women to their fate was too much to bear.

She snorted. Not that there was anywhere to run to.

They were surrounded by enemies.

When the doors of the chute opened on the hangar level, Alana jerked her arms out of the rough hold of the two warriors by her sides and, jaw clenched, strode through the
passageways. There were very few Darkon warriors at their posts in and around the departure bay. So their removal was to be kept secret.

Then who could be the instigator?
Alana paused at the end of the ramp. Her gaze swept the area one last time, looking for anything which could aid them. The cavern yawned empty of options.

A warrior grabbed her wrist and jerked her over the threshold and into the shuttle. Moments later, secured in a chair, she stared at the metal door closed against her. She turned to the other women sharing the small chamber with her and tried to smile. She twisted her head to the other side and noticed Jessamine sitting several rows behind her.

“Honey, I sure wish my premonition was wrong,” Jessamine said.

“Yeah.” Alana leaned against the backrest and braced her body for the takeoff as she registered the change in the shuttle’s power source. “Do you know if all of us are here?”

“Well, I know everyone from my section in the house was taken.”

There were murmurs of assent from the other women. Alana sighed.
It seems like the gang’s all here
.

Jessamine’s voice broke the sudden silence which had fallen over their group. “I didn’t see Norman though.”

“Really? That is interesting.” Alana chewed her lower lip. “I hope that doesn’t mean he’s imprisoned elsewhere or worse.”

“Yeah, I sure hope the little guy got away. Any ideas where we’re headed, Captain?”

”No, none.”

“I overhead one of the soldiers mentioning some place called
‘the camp’
,” one of the women ventured in a high pitched voice.

“Camp, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Alana refrained from answering. The foreboding deep in her bones told her it wasn’t a holiday camp they were heading towards.

The holding cells they were incarcerated into were small with four rows of bunks bolted on every wall. She flopped onto the nearest one and did her best to ignore Jessamine and the other women’s anxious chatter. None of the warriors had offered an explanation. With no weapons only their wits, their options remained few if any. Their destination had to be close to Cerciron. The ship they had boarded bore little resemblance to the massive shape of the Ark. So, no long range voyager—a smaller flight ship which meant a journey within the same star system or galaxy. She had no idea whether this was good or bad. Pain stabbed across her temple. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed her exhausted body to sleep.

Alana woke with renewed determination, if not refreshed. Her dreams had been punctuated with sickening flashbacks of the hover accident and the horrified voices of her family as they cried out, their hands outstretched and reaching for help that never came. She passed a shaking hand over her face and swung her legs over the side of the bunk. Time to face another day.

By the time the sound of locks snapping back and escaping gas indicated their kidnappers had returned, Alana was ready. She had made good use of the cleansing tubes and had taken the time to reassure the women in her cell.

Outwardly composed, she stood and stared into the blank face of the king’s captain when he entered the cabin.

“All of you, on your feet.” He indicated with a sweep of his hand Alana was to precede him out the door.

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell us what this is all about.”

“Orders,” was all he said. He gripped Alana’s upper arm but she shrugged free.

She shot him a look of contempt and brushed past. His total lack of response worried her. This warrior was either totally sunk into apathy where he questioned nothing or one who never questioned his allegiance. His rigid military demeanour gave nothing away and there was no hint of softness in the harsh contours of his face. She wondered whose orders he was following. Lord Rajan? Or someone else?

Please God, please don’t let it be Tarak
. Either way, Alana sensed this warrior was beyond being reached by pleas for compassion.

In silence she strode behind an ensign along the curved corridors, followed by the other women. It was only when she recognised they were heading towards a small runway, she realised they had arrived at their destination.

At first she thought the outer doors of the voyager were open as she could see beyond a barren icy wasteland. As she got closer though, she noticed a transparent wall
separated the ship from the elements. Already pockets of arctic, frigid air were seeping into the ship and she shivered at the bite of cold.

Great—another inhospitable planet
.

Guards lined the departure bay and she glared at them as she passed, noticing with misgiving how none would meet her eyes. Matters must be worse than she thought.

The captain brushed past her and with a clipped, “Move faster,” led the way down a ramp beside the outer doors which she had not noticed previously. Under her weight, the ramp gave a slight wobble. With amazement she saw she was enclosed within a clear tube which curved into a loop and stretched down to the surface of the planet.

Through the flexi glass, Alana could see several massive all-terrain tracked vehicles parked at the end of the tubular ramp. They reminded her of the huge mining vehicles which burrowed beneath the hard rock surface or mountains back home, with their spiralled drills prominent at the front. There was a door at the end of the closest vehicle, which obviously led into the interior.

The captain shot back the bolts and opened the door. He motioned with his hand and Alana climbed into the small cramped space and sat on the hard bench. Experimentally she touched the sides and quickly removed her fingers from the cold burning surface. The air was stuffy, and thin. Her breath wheezed in and out of her lungs as they struggled to cope with the alien atmosphere. She slowed her breathing to maintain an even heartbeat and beat back the wings of panic fluttering in her mind.

The door slammed shut.

It was dark inside but in a few moments, her eyes adjusted and she discerned the faint silhouettes of the other occupants. The women’s frightened gasps sounded loud as they struggled with the strange atmosphere and she instructed them on how to regulate their breathing pattern. The vehicle jolted and lurched forward. It was just as well there were so many of them packed inside, otherwise they would have been thrown from one end of the vehicle to the other. At the angle they were all leaning to, she didn’t even want to think about the slope of their descent.

It was obviously steep.

A thought which did not sit well with her queasy stomach.

Sometime later the vehicle jerked to a bone-shuddering halt. The door creaked open and in the dim light, Alana recognised the features of the captain. He jerked his head and, hunching her back, Alana edged her way past the other women. She jumped onto a slippery hard surface, wobbled then regained her balance. The captain watched expressionless, making no attempt to assist her.

Chin lifted, she ignored him, taking her time to gaze around what appeared to be another cavern chiselled into the side of the frozen landscape. Stalactites hung glistening and lethal from the ceiling while stalagmites dominated the floor resembling a forest of small white trees.

Behind her she could hear the moans of the women as they climbed out and stretched their limbs. The sounds of engines heralded the entrance of other vehicles into the caverns.

It was easier to breathe here although the way she gulped at the air made her think the oxygen levels were lower than what she was used to.

That would make it harder to escape, harder to run. Hands clenched into fists, she fell in behind the captain as he swung into step heading towards the far wall.

She entered the chute close on the captain’s heels and waited in grim silence as it hurtled downwards. By dint of extreme control, she managed not to disgrace herself by vomiting when the chute’s door hissed open. There was no way she would show any weakness in front of this traitor.

Another corridor and at the end a group of males stood conversing. Alana tensed as she approached.

One of the Darkons turned and she recognised Lord Atolo.

“Alana.” He smiled in genuine pleasure, his brown eyes genial and soft. “I’m so glad you decided to join us.”

Confused, she stopped short and returned his greeting. Had she been wrong? Remembering Tarak’s comments on the forthcoming battle and probable destruction of Cerciron
had
they been taken out of harm’s way?

“Thank you, Officer Ulrac. Return to your post.”

The soldier’s gaze met hers as he turned on his heel. Unease stroked her still clammy skin with slivers of ice as she sought to interpret the fleeting expression in his eyes.

Lord Atolo extended his arm in invitation. Gingerly Alana placed her hand on his and he led her away.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” With a sweeping hand he indicated the icy walls. “You need not be anxious, Alana, this location is not yet known to our enemies. In fact, very few know of its
existence. Many cycles ago, this was a mining colony. Once the source of spheres had been depleted it fell into disuse.” His sigh was mournful. He shook his head, the long mane of white hair rippled down his back. “The war changed everything.”

“Where exactly are we?” Alana asked, careful to keep her tones neutral and not betray the doubts whirling through her head.

Lord Atolo chortled. “Not far from Cerciron but far enough.”

Alana rolled her eyes at his cryptic words. “And after the war began?” she prompted after a few moments of silence.

“The colony was redesigned into a military camp at first. Then matters regressed when Liama gained control of the council. We were hunted like vermin.”

Alana glanced sideways.

Spittle flecked his chin.
Oh oh
. She recognised the bite of hate lancing his voice. It seemed the one Darkon leader she had thought capable of rational reasoning was also out of control—lost in a vortex of impotent rage.

She glanced behind her but they were alone as they strolled along the frozen corridor which every so often branched out in myriad directions. Every corridor looked the same. Finding her way out of this maze would take a miracle. There was no point of reference. No signs. No markings on the walls. Just endless winding twisting corridors of white ice. She fought down momentary panic.
Take it easy. One thing at a time
.

There was no reason to believe they were in danger. No reason, except her intuition. And the expression in Officer Ulrac’s eyes as he turned away. She could have imagined that message of warning.

Maybe.

But she didn’t think so. Her intuition had gotten her out of tight corners before; now was not the time to turn her back on it.

Alana reviewed all she had been told while the Darkon brooded alongside her. One fact now stood out so starkly she wondered how she could have forgotten it. Once again she heard Norman’s shrill voice wailing in her ears and delivering that fatal word—’
payload’
.

She had forgotten it because she had been foolish enough to allow her senses to be swayed by a man’s beguiling smiles and the urgent touch of his hand.
God, I’m such a fool
.

I’ve fallen lock, stock and smoking barrel for honeyed words and a tender touch
. Hoping in her lonely heart this time, this man would carry through on his promises. She had forgotten there was no such thing as a safe haven within a man’s arms. Her heart splintered into millions of pieces of shattered crystal, the agony so immense she stumbled on legs that trembled with shock.

Remember the others
. After a long moment, she marshalled her defences, rebuilt the walls around her heavy heart and regrouped.

No time to fall apart. Be the soldier she had trained to be.

Summoning control from deep within, she said, proud of her steady voice, “You were telling me about the war.”

”Of course. Forgive me, I did not mean to neglect you.” He smiled with all apparent sincerity, but Alana was not fooled.

She would never be fooled again.

“The war lasted longer than we thought possible.” Atolo spread his hands in genuine bewilderment.

She clamped her lips together. Alana could well believe how surprising it would have been to a race which had ruled unchallenged for centuries to find themselves immersed in a war they could not win. There would have been disbelief, outrage and an inability to face facts. It was obvious the Darkons were not ones who embraced change willingly.

“But we were betrayed,” he said. Beside him, Alana jolted with shock. “I see our gallant Tarak has failed to tell you of this incredible act. A close comrade of his, a childhood friend. The son of one of our leaders! That one of our people should have brought about our downfall. Unthinkable. But he has been punished.” He waved a clenched fist in the air.

Alana repressed a shiver of distaste at the gloating voice. She kept quiet as he continued.

“The retro virus swept through our people. No one was immune. Our women. Our children. All gone. With our Darkon warriors unable to produce sperm, our race diminished. We stood on the threshold of extinction,” his voice rang out hollowly like the clanging of a bucket in a deep disused well.