Overdrive (43 page)

The Shepherds and
Ram Terry were gone.

Chapter Twelve

Through the
tactical screen of the
Sweet Bejesus
, Asel watched as the giant Valkyrie
disappeared into Nospace. In its wake drifted the wreckage of three class 1
Frigates, discovering too late that getting between Gabriella and her goal
constituted extreme stupidity.

Instinctively he
knew where she was going. Using her affinity with a Shiva, she was taking the
direct route to her home planet; sixth heaven, Makon. He could feel her manipulating
the giant beast that controlled the space lane, cajoling and appeasing the
guardian of the quickest route between the two planets.

The rift in real
space disappeared and with it the sense of connection with both Gabriella and
the Shiva. He turned his attention to other matters. What remained of the
Gitanian space navy was now largely involved in rescue missions, picking up
survivors and requesting assistance from other ships in the volume; requests
which Asel for various reasons ignored.

After the small
yacht had presumably been allowed to escape, the Valkyrie wasted little time
doing likewise. The Blazing Trumpet had taken decisive action, blasting away
through the enveloping frigates and clearing a space for the jump into Nospace,
barely making the 300km minimum distance before opening a rift.

The small yacht
was now drifting erratically only a short distance away from Asel’s ship. In
order to tackle Gabriella on her home ground, he was going to need help. He
gave his orders to a waiting Nephillum, instructing him to rendezvous with the
Puritan
.
Five short minutes later he heard the telltale clunk as the two ships made
contact.

He opened a
channel and waited until a grim face emerged, filling the screen before him. “I
want to offer you a deal…," he began.

◊

Tarquin emerged
from the small bridge looking unhappy. Logan, Walter and Bruce were putting the
finishing touches on the panel they were installing over the hull breach. In
addition to that damage, it appeared that the entire engine room had been
destroyed by the slipmissile attack. The once state of the art
Puritan
was now a very expensive piece of floating junk.

All three looked
around as Tarquin entered the lounge.

“What is it?”
asked Logan, seeing the expression on his friends face.

“That was our friend
Asel. Seems he wants to make a deal. He’ll take us to Makon and help us rescue
Felix in return for sole access to the Overdrive.”

Logan shrugged. “I
don’t see that we have a choice.”

“Quite right,”
said Walter. “Although I don’t really trust that fiend. He’s already tried to
kill us at least once.”

Bruce flexed his
paws. “If he tries to again, I’ll break his scrawny neck.”

“Yes, yes,"
said Tarquin waving his hand impatiently. He looked around at the others. “Are
we agreed then? We’ll hook up with Asel, get Felix back and then hand over
control of the galaxy to the deviant.”

The others in the
lounge nodded as Tarquin looked at each in turn.

“Right. Grab your
stuff and don’t forget your weapons. This isn’t exactly going to be a pleasure
cruise.”

◊

Felix had been
stuck in a small, rather cramped cell for the duration of the 10 day trip to
Makon. During that time, he had only seen others, in the form of heavily armed
Angels, when they came to deliver his thrice daily meals. They obviously were
not going to take any risks now that they finally had Felix in their Angelic
grasp.

He’d spent the
time alternating between rage and sorrow. It was clear now that Crystal and
probably his friends were all dead. All for a bit of machinery. During the long
design process, he hadn’t actually contemplated the implications of what he’d
made, too involved in the present to consider the future. He should’ve realized
and now his friends were dead. He wished he’d never made the damn thing. He’d
happily give the information over if it would bring his friends back.

He sat on his tiny
bed and put his head in his hands for the umpteenth time in as many hours. In
front of him the door slid open. He looked up as Gabriella carefully entered
the small space, elegantly adjusting her wings so they didn’t catch. She
smoothed some hair out of her eyes before favoring Felix with a radiant smile.

“And how’s my boy
today?”

“Same as always.
Shit. What about yourself? Concocted any potions lately? Its all the rage for
witches I hear.”

“Now, now. Don’t
be like that.”

She bent down and
ran her fingers along the line of his chin. Despite the fact that he loathed
her, Felix still felt a twinge in his loins. He felt rage building again; anger
at himself for feeling that way and anger at her for causing the deaths of
anyone that actually mattered to him.

Sensing this,
Gabriella stood again, the smile never leaving her face.

“What do you want
anyway?," he asked her. “Come to torment me some more?.”

“Not at all,"
she replied glibly. “I’m saving the torment for later. I came to tell you that
we’ve arrived in orbit above Makon. I wanted to know if you’d like to join me
on the bridge. Its a beautiful sight.”

Felix sighed,
looking miserable. “Why not? Its not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

“Good," she
said. “Follow me."

She turned, and
gracefully for a woman of her size, made her way out of the cell. Felix
followed and emerged into a wide corridor behind her. Two large Angels carrying
impressive looking weapons flanked the cells door. They fell in behind as
Gabriella led the way to an AG lift.

“What’s going to
happen to me now?” he asked. Not that he really cared. It was just for forms
sake to show Gabriella that he really hadn’t lost all hope.

Gabriella entered
the lift, waiting for the others and the doors to close before answering.

“We’ll shortly
take a shuttle down to the surface where my most competent technicians are
waiting to work on you.”

“You’re wasting
your time. The Overdrive data will be corrupted if you try and force it out.”

“Ah,” she said
with a knowing smile. “We have some techniques that may surprise even you.”

“You mean creative
torture? Don’t bother; It won’t work. I usually just faint at the first sign of
blood, especially my own.”

Gabriella shook
her head sadly and tutted. “I’m surprised at you Felix. Do you really think me
capable of such horrible things?." Seeing Felix about to reply, she
forestalled him.

“Never mind. You
and I both know that torture will never work. You’ll have to willingly give me
the information.”

Felix shook his
head, mirroring Gabriella’s earlier body language. “You have nothing to give me
in exchange for the Overdrive. Everything I had, you took from me.”

Gabriella frowned
down at him. “Being a bit melodramatic aren’t we? But don’t worry, we’ll fix
that once we get down to Makon.”

The lift doors
opened and the four of them stepped out. The wall sized screen was filled by a
beautiful blue and white planet floating gently below them. How serene it
looked, thought Felix. Probably a complete contrast from how it actually was.
If Gabriella ran it, Makon was probably a hotbed of sin and corruption with the
occasional mass murder thrown in.

“Gorgeous isn’t
it?” said Gabriella, spreading her arms wide in a dramatic fashion. Out of the
corner of his eye, Felix could see Sammael nodding. He wasn’t looking at the
planet though.

“Yeah, great,"
said Felix without feeling. Gabriella’s smile faded.

“I’m surprised at
you Felix. I thought a man of your intelligence and obvious taste would
appreciate such a sight.”

“I would,” he
replied. “If I had someone pleasant to enjoy it with.”

Gabriella glared
at him. Quickly though, the expression was replaced by one that implied great
pleasure to come.

“Fine," she
said. “The shuttle is waiting. Time for you to meet your destiny.”

Felix shrugged
sullenly. “Whatever. Destiny can kiss my arse for all I care.”

◊

“Well gentlemen,
what do you think?." Asel spread his arms wide with an expectant look on
his face.

“I suppose you
could pass as an Areopagite at a pinch," said Logan, shrugging
noncommittally. “You certainly have the right equipment.”

He pointed at Asel’s
wings which were jutting out prominently above his head. The Watcher had dyed
his normally multi colored wings to match the pure whiteness possessed by
Areopagite Angels. A long blond wig adorned his head. He was even dressed in
the simple white robes of an Angel.

Logan, Tarquin,
Walter and Bruce were gathered in Asel’s personal quarters aboard the borrowed
ship. The three men were dressed in Templar Knight garb; simple tunics
emblazoned by a silver fist holding a lightening bolt. Asel had assured them
that the symbol was meaningless; he’d chosen it purely because all Areopagite
Angels of high rank had retainers bearing such crests. Bruce, unable to pass as
a Templar, was dressed in a prisoners pale blue smock. Light manacles lay
unclasped upon his ankles and wrists.

“I for one think
we all cut a rather dashing picture," said Walter, drawing and brandishing
his sword.

“Careful,"
said Tarquin, swaying aside to avoid Walter’s less than coordinated
brandishing. “Its all fun and games until someone loses an eye.”

Asel looked the
three men and the transplanter over with a critical eye before giving a nod of
satisfaction.

“Good," he
said. “Let’s go, and remember, leave the talking to me."

He led the way out
of the small room and made for an airlock. The others followed with mixed
expressions on their faces. Logan looked grim; his face hard, prepared for the
trials to come. Tarquin shared a similar look albeit not quite so serious.
Bruce looked menacing; a look he pulled off with little or no effort while
Walter, bringing up the rear, was inexplicably smiling.

Out of all of
them, Walter had emerged the most changed from the events over the last couple
of weeks. Especially in the last 10 days. During that time, he and Bruce had
been closeted together, the latter passing on his knowledge accumulated from 15
years as a mercenary. Walter had lapped it up, hardly noticing when they
changed ship half way through the trip to Makon.

The ship had met
them in Nospace. Contacting his father Semyaza, Asel had explained the situation,
detailing their needs. His father had complied readily, much to Asel’s
surprise, dispatching a ship immediately to intercept Asel and his unlikely
allies. The ship was a small Areopagite Galley, liberated some time ago from
the rival organization and saved for such a time when it would be needed most.
This was the time.

Disguised as a
visiting Areopagite Lord and his followers, Asel hoped to infiltrate
Gabriella’s palace and rescue Felix. But first they had to pass through Makon’s
security on one of the planet’s moons.

Makon possessed
six moons. The largest, creatively renamed Gabriella’s allure, was also its
filter point for any off world arrivals. It was also notoriously intolerant of
unwelcome guests. Security would be tight.

Following Asel,
they entered the airlock and waited while it cycled. Unusually, the airlock
opened into a huge rock chamber, rough hewed directly out of the moon. The only
concession to aesthetics was the floor; smooth and flat and run through with
what looked to be pure gold. The lighting above reflected off the surface,
sparkling into the eyes of the small party as they made their way to a security
checkpoint.

Asel strode
imperiously before the others. He stopped just before the checkpoint and eyed
the Templars there contemptuously. One of the guards hurried over, careful not
to keep a visiting dignitary waiting.

He bowed
fractionally when he was face to face with Asel, the minimum of courtesy when
one was unsure of another’s rank.

“My Lord? How can
I be of assistance?”

Asel did not lower
his gaze. To him, the Templar was beneath contempt. “I have an urgent
appointment with the Princess Gabriella. It is of a delicate matter.”

The Templar bowed
again. “Certainly my Lord. If I could just have your name and security code. I
will inform Gabriella that you are on your way.”

Logan stepped
forward, coming within centimeters of the Templar and belligerently sticking
his face into the other mans.

“You dare question
the Throne Japhkiel? Templars have been killed for less.” Thrones were of the
first hierarchy in Areopagite society; just below Seraphim and Cherubim and as
such, less likely to be questioned. Templars who questioned first hierarchy
Angels found themselves dead or languishing in rubbish collection roles.

It was a clever
move by Asel; as a Watcher Prince, he was equivalent in power to a throne and
could easily pass as one. In addition, the real Japhkiel had disappeared two
months ago exploring a new Shiva route and so was unlikely to be encountered on
Gabriella’s home world.