Star Viking (Extinction Wars Book 3) (3 page)

Carefully setting the Bloody Mary on the armrest, Sant told me, “I know something troubling has occurred. It’s why I interrupted my studies to make the trip here. Did the Emperor send you a message, perhaps?”

The way Sant asked that alerted me. “Why would he?” I asked.

Sant squinted. I’d been with Lokhars long enough to recognize his sudden discomfort. He thought he shouldn’t have said that. Picking up his Bloody Mary—it was his second one—he slurped slowly, as if he was trying to give himself time to think.

“Is there something brewing against Earth in the Imperial Court?” I asked.

He gestured at me with his drink. “My information is sketchy at best. It’s far too soon to be certain. Let us wait out events, as I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Okay,” I said, figuring we had time to come back to that. “I’m more interested in something else.”

“Oh,” he said.

“Yes. What can you tell me about the Shi-Feng?”

Sant’s reaction startled me. The Bloody Mary tumbled from his fingers, splashing the red liquid onto his robe, staining it. He appeared not to notice. The glass bounced onto the floor, rolling loudly. My gaze followed it until it bumped against the computer stand. When I looked up, Sant sat frozen, staring at me with his yellow orbs.

His lower jaw slid from side to side. Finally, words came haltingly. “You…you should not speak that name.”

“Care to tell me why?” I asked.

His head twitched, breaking the spell. Blinking several times, he seemed to consider what I’d said. Finally, he stared at me even more intently than before.

“I do not understand this,” he said. “How could
you
have learned of
them
?”

“Never mind that,” I said. “Who are they?”

Sant shoved up to his feet. Taking several long strides, he stood before the viewing panel, staring out at the sands of Mars.

On the bar, I rotated my shot glass on its napkin, waiting. Why was this such a touchy topic? I was more curious than ever.

Doctor Sant turned, regarding me. “They…do not exist. They are a legend.”

“Go on.”

“You cannot know about them.” Understanding lit his yellow pupils. He nodded. “Did the Forerunner Object speak to you again? Did it tell you about…
them
?”

“No.”

He sagged back as if I’d punched him against the chest. He sounded winded as he said, “No other race has ever learned of the ones you named. You must swear to me, Commander. Never whisper a word of this to anyone.”

“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that,” I said.

Sant groaned. On shaky legs, he returned to the soft chair, practically collapsing into it.

“They’re a legend, you say?” I asked him.

“A myth,” he said, “a wisp from the old times. It is inconceivable that you learned the name.”

I had the feeling he was lying to me. It was time to up the stakes. “Doctor, I know more than that. Some of the Shi-Feng—”

“No!” Sant said, leaning forward. “Do not speak that name. It is an ill omen to do so.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I cannot say.”

“They work in triads,” I said.

He sank against the backrest, staring at me in a stricken manner.

“Instead of killing with claw or gun,” I said, “Shi-Feng explode.”

Sant’s eyes went wide with disbelief. Then a glimmer of horror entered them. He began to breathe more rapidly. The horror deepened, and he whispered, “No. This cannot be. They…came to Earth?”

“Yes,” I said.

His panting stopped abruptly until his eyelids fluttered. He worked his jaws but no sounds issued. It seemed to take an effort of will on his part. He finally whispered, “When did this happen?”

“A little over a week ago on Earth,” I said. “They were waiting for me in the latest automated factory in Wyoming.”

“They waited for
you
?” he asked. “No. That’s impossible. You would be dead, then.”

“I killed the Shi-Feng, Doctor.”

With a cry, Sant lurched to his feet. He wouldn’t look at me. He strode for the door. It seemed he might just leave without telling me what I wanted to know.

“Lock,” I said.

Inner
clicks
meant the door locked from the inside. Frantically, Sant pressed the exit button, but the door wouldn’t open.

“I must leave,” Sant said, although he didn’t turn to say it.

“We’re going to talk first,” I said.

“I cannot speak to any
they
have signaled for death.”

“You’re talking to me now,” I told him.

Sant pressed the button again. When it wouldn’t open, he began to hammer on the metal.

I waited.

The doctor’s actions became more frantic. He pummeled the door. Then, he stepped back and slammed a shoulder against it.

If we’d been on Earth in a regular house, he would have smashed through. The Lokhars had built the dome tougher than that, though. Three times, Sant hurled himself at the door. Afterward, he panted before it. Maybe he realized there was no smashing through. Finally, he whirled around. Madness swirled in his eyes.

“You leave me no choice,” Sant said in a harsh voice. Reaching into his robe, he withdrew a white handle. His thumb clicked a button. A force blade the length of a knife shimmered into existence. It was pure energy, able to cut just about anything. “Instead of sullying myself, Commander, talking to you about the indescribable, I must kill you. Prepare to meet the Great Maker.”

I hadn’t expected this. It was past time to calm him down.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Do you remember that the Forerunner artifact told me its name? You do know that none of the artifacts has ever told that to a Lokhar before.”

Doctor Sant roared. It was loud in the small confines of my chamber. With flapping robes and long limbs, he rushed me, thrusting the force blade like a rapier.

Now, it’s true succeeding bomb-blasts a week ago had beaten my body and broken my bones. The healing tank at Mars Base had also speeded my recuperation. I wasn’t one hundred percent, but I was still an assault trooper.

Even in my condition, I was too quick for him to kill me easily.

With long flourishes and grunting slashes, Sant came after me. The force blade sliced through the bar top. It chopped a lamp on my nightstand and slashed my blanket to ribbons. I’d grabbed the blanket off the bed and hurled it at Sant like a net.

I would have tried to talk sense into him, but he did wield a force blade. They were nasty weapons, perfect for close quarters combat. All he had to do was touch the energy blade against me, and it would cut skin, bones, muscles and interior organs. That thing was no toy.

Who would tire first? Normally, it would be Doctor Sant. Today—

After three passes around the room, I began to pant. His eyes still glowed with righteous fury. He gripped the front of his robes with his free hand and stood still for a moment.

I could see the wheels turning in his mind. I’d been able to dodge his rushes. Maybe he needed a new approach.

A hard grin stretched his lips. Slowly, using his greater reach, he began to back me toward a corner.

First gulping air, I said, “The Forerunner artifact told me its name. That it did so is a sign of my uniqueness. Surely, you realize that, Doctor. I am above your petty rituals and legends. So, these Shi-Feng hunted me in Wyoming. So what? They failed, exploding uselessly. I’m marking
them
for death now, not the other way around. You don’t want to keep attacking me or you’ll face my wrath.”

Sant halted. He tilted his head to the side, appearing quizzical. “I hold the force blade, not you.”

“I’m an assault trooper, though.”

“No! You are a guardian of the object.”

“That’s one of my duties, sure,” I said. “But first and foremost, I’m an assault trooper. That means I can defeat you.”

“Is that why you keep retreating before me?”

“No. It’s because I don’t want to hurt you, Doctor. You’re my friend.”

Lowering the force blade to his side, he stood hunched over. From glaring at me, his eyes darted away again. He backed up until he could view the panel. Although he faced me, he side-glanced at the sands of Mars outside.

“I have ridden the artifact,” Sant said, almost as if reciting a litany. “I survived the deaths of millions against the ancient enemy. I have been chosen for a holy task. I cannot throw away my life. I have a duty to Orange Tamika.”

“This is much better,” I said. “Turn off the force blade, and set it down. Let’s talk.”

He frowned. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Sure I did.”

“I am chosen. I cannot throw away my life.”

“That means you’d better put down your weapon before I decide I’ve had enough of this.”

Sant shook his head. “No. It means you are dead. They have marked you to die. By telling me, by naming
them
, you have brought me into the circle. I cannot stand with you against them. Thus, I must end it here before Orange Tamika loses my uniqueness. If I don’t kill you,
they
will learn I heard of their attack in Wyoming. Then, they will come and kill me too.”

“You’re making a bad decision, Doctor.”

With his free hand, he re-gripped the front of his robe. Hunching forward, he began to stalk me again. He held the force blade in front, waving it as if he knew a knife-fighting technique. Maybe he did.

“This is your last chance, Sant.”

“Good-bye, Commander Creed.” He bounded in a tiger rush, thrusting the deadly knife.

I’d seen his thighs tense, however. His body language had screamed his intentions. The lanky tiger roared at me as he came. Maybe he thought he could frighten me.

No. That was it. I’d had enough already. My mind snapped into overdrive. His movements seemed to slow down. The long arm kept coming as he leaned and stretched his seven-foot frame. He staked all on the thrust. If I’d been a regular human, no doubt the doctor would have skewered me. Instead, I dodged, but I’d forgotten about my bed’s exact placement. The side of my leg struck the edge and I toppled. Both us of seemed to move slowly now.

Sant still thrust as I fell onto the bed. He straightened. I rolled across the mattress. My legs shot up and I stood on the other side. Sant swiveled his hips, thrusting again. My feet tangled in the blanket lying on the floor. I almost tripped because of it, but I stilled my momentum long enough to keep standing. That took too long, though, giving Sant the needed time. When my attention riveted back to him, the force blade already thrust at my midsection. Sant’s length allowed him to reach widthwise across the bed to reach me.

Even to my speeded senses, my hands blurred. The edge of the force blade touched my forearm. Blood spurted. A loud
crack
told of broken wrist bones: his. Tiger fingers became numb and released the handle. Given the safety design of the force blade, the energy portion of the knife disappeared.

Time flowed back into normal channels for me then. Because of my move and throw, Sant sailed over me, flailing his long Lokhar limbs. He crashed against a wall and slid down in a jumbled heap, tangled in his robes.

I clamped a hand onto my bleeding forearm. The force blade had barely touched the skin, but it was enough to spill blood. A fraction more pressure and that end of my forearm would by lying on the bed in a welter of gore. Instead, the white handle lay on the bed.

As Sant worked to untangle himself, I reached down and picked up the force blade. A
hum
warned of the reappearance of the energy blade. I cut the blanket and wrapped part around my forearm. Blood soaked it, but I stanched some of the bleeding.

Turning with his force blade in my hand, I faced Sant. He sat against the wall, cradling his broken wrist.

I walked to the bar, set down the knife and picked up my glass. Ice cubes rattled in it. I drank the liquid. It was barely enough to wet my mouth. Even so, that made my cheeks warm.

“The Shi-Feng is a holy order,” Sant said from where he sat. “They cleanse away evil. None has ever seen one. In their purity, they commit deeds no Lokhar would dare. They accept modifications to their body. They commit ritual suicide and they use their blood to wipe away wickedness.”

“I’m wicked?” I asked.

“You have learned the name of a Forerunner artifact. You are the chief guardian to an object that belongs to the Lokhars.”

“If you’re referring to its stay in the Altair star system—”

“I am,” Sant said.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t move the Altair Object. It relocated on its own, remember?”

“That is not how the Shi-Feng would view it. To them, you are a beast, Commander. It is inconceivable for a creature to do the things you have. No. You must relinquish the Forerunner artifact. You must formally return it to the Lokhars.”

“Now you can say their name?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. With his back against the wall, Sant slid up to his feet. “You’re about to die.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are the Shi-Feng about to break into my room?”

“It is not wise to mock what you don’t understand.”

“That’s why I asked you to come to Mars. Explain the situation to me.”

“You are marked for death, Commander. That you have resisted your fate endangers the rest of us. I cannot allow that to happen.”

I picked up the force blade. “Do you see who has this?”

“I will make your passing quick, Commander. And perhaps it is well for you to understand.” He winced painfully, glancing at his broken wrist.”

“Let me summon you aid,” I said.

“No! I will leave on my own. First, you must know this much. When one mentions the Shi-Feng, it means their actions must be honorable. Without realizing it, you brought the old codes into play.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Doctor Sant reached into his robe and pulled out a wicked little needler. He pointed it at me.

“This is a spring-driven weapon,” the doctor said. “It holds poisoned slivers. It was fashioned without any ferrous metals. Thus, it passed your detectors.”

“If you had that all along, why use a knife to try to stab me?” I asked.

“Didn’t you hear my words? You invoked the Shi-Feng. I had to slay you with a knife, washing away your insult with blood.”

“What insult?”

“That you, a beast, should name the holy ones,” he said.

“Holy ones blow themselves up to kill others?”

“Good-bye, Commander Creed.”

“Shi-Feng!” I shouted.

Sant frowned. “Why do you shout those as your death words?”

“I’m invoking them. You have to fight me honorably now.”

“I attempted that. Now, you will use dishonor to question me. I cannot allow myself to be captured and give away Lokhar secrets. Instead, I will kill you any way I can.”

I stared into his eyes. He seemed to mean what he said.

“Listen, Sant,” I said. “You don’t realize—”

He pulled the trigger seven times, sending seven poisoned slivers into my stomach.

I stared at him. Then, I collapsed onto my knees.

He tucked the needler within his robes. Then he shoved his broken wrist there as well.

I sucked air into my constricted throat. “You shot me,” I wheezed.

“I killed you, Commander Creed.”

“No,” I said.

“Are you daft? Look at you.”

“Don’t you realize I still have medical monitors in me?”

Sant frowned. Maybe he didn’t understand.

Intense dizziness struck me. The chamber seemed to spin. Then the door slid open and several assault troopers rushed in.

Sant managed to redraw the needler in time to shoot the first one. The rest reached him and bore him onto the floor.

That’s when I fell unconscious for the second time in a little over a week. I couldn’t believe it.