Survivor Planet III (4 page)

“He's a little concerned,” I told Lourde.

Ayres stopped and gawked at me. “After what happened yesterday I think I have a right to be.”

Lourde's expression relayed his insult. “I think yesterday went remarkably well and according to plan.”

“I disagree,” Ayres snapped. “You saw how she looked thrashing about…”

“I'd hardly call it
thrashing
. Slight agitation, perhaps,” Lourde interrupted.

“Her heart rate was through the roof, not to mention her other vitals were overtaxed,” Ayres stated.

“All to be expected on a longer connection, I assure you,” Lourde said soothingly.

“I want to do this,” I said staring at Ayres. “You sensed I was getting upset yesterday and you pulled yourself out of it, even though it was really Lara's anxiety you felt. You still have that ability. Trust me, all right? Trust us. We can do this.”

Despite all the modern technology surrounding us, the
room
we were in was actually a large alcove of a cavern deep beneath the ground. A labyrinth of tunnels pocketed with various-sized alcoves stretched on for miles. Upon first arrival I'd been astounded by the sheer enormity of the place.

The reason we even risked being on this planet was because of its close proximity to Calixtus. In order to establish a solid link with our subject this attribute was paramount. We may have been successful in attempting to link from Planet Earth, but Lourde had assured us that closer was better, especially considering the complexity of our objective.

Ayres sat down and glared at the both of us. “If it gets to be too much, I'll pull you out of there—one way or another,” he assured me.

I gave Ayres a wink and lay back, making myself comfortable. Quickly, before Ayres changed his mind, Lourde began hooking me up to the control device, which would reactivate my tracker and then begin casting out for a similar signal to link onto. Lourde had first discovered this technique quite by accident while he was dabbling in experiments on Calixtus. Unfortunately, he'd also fooled around with Baynar's latest mistress behind his back and found himself not only kicked out of the scientific lab but also on the top of Baynar's hit list. Lourde had been smart enough to flee as soon as possible and after weeks on the run he'd ended up on Taseeus like the rest of us fugitives. Once there, he'd tracked down his old friends, Ayres and Aris, from his early academy days.

The first and most difficult link to be established was between the subject and me. The subject must possess a tracker similar to mine, therefore being an Earth female. I'd learned that not all of the women captured and brought to Calixtus had trackers. Some were there merely by chance, be it that they'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time and been captured, or they'd caught the eye of a Tracker and been snatched. No forethought had been put into their capture. It was just a wild guess, but I had the feeling that those women that Ayres had spoken of, the ones used to rile the beasts in the games—the sacrifices—were probably without trackers. It only made sense that if a woman had a tracker in her head then some effort and time had been invested in her and they wouldn't be so quick to throw her to the beasts.

Establishing a link was like casting a net out into the galaxy and hoping to connect with the right signal. Since all of the Earth-girl trackers were on the same frequency, it was easy enough to latch onto that which I sought. This was another reason for us being on Taleon instead of Earth. If we were on Earth I would ultimately first link with unsuspecting females there before my reach would stretch out to Calixtus—our prime objective. If we wanted to successfully exact our revenge, as quickly as possible, then we had to be on this planet.

Of course, there was also the problem of bypassing the Earth girls who were past contestants of the tournament played on Taleon. Since their numbers were low—much fewer than the Earth girls possessing trackers on Earth—Lourde was able to manually guide me past them and coax my reach toward Calixtus.

The process was actually accomplished quickly thanks to Lourde's technologically advanced instruments. On a swinging arm a mini dome-like object was moved directly over my head. With a lot of high-tech mumbo-jumbo he'd explained how the thing worked by accessing my tracker, turning it on, and then zapping it with some beams of light causing it to seek out others. The machine was slightly different than the one set up for Ayres—he reclined in a chair setting his head into a device that rested at his temples. It emitted electric pulses into his head, turning on his tracker and then encouraging a link with mine. In the past Ayres had appeared to me on Earth allowing me to familiarize myself with his presence. The bond we had now, however, was stronger, thereby allowing him to not only control my body, but through me, the body of another. He wasn't able to take total control of my mind, and only had limited control of my body, so he concentrated on my lower arms and legs—allowing him to run, kick, spin, punch, etcetera—enough to carry out an assassination.

“Close your eyes and relax,” instructed Lourde.

I remembered the drill. It was similar to being put into a trance. Images would slowly invade my psyche lulling me deeper and deeper, comparable to falling asleep. Then the images would become more and more lucid until it became virtually impossible to distinguish the difference between dream and reality. Ultimately, dream would become reality once the link forged. Slowly, as I drifted further and further into my subject's head, the both of us would merge, making the two become one. I would then cease to consider myself there as a bystander and would believe myself to actually be the subject. Only once I pulled out of the link and regained my individuality, would I recall the entire situation from a bystander's point of view. It was all very confusing if I overly pondered it.

I started to drift off and visions began entering my head, first being familiar, then more and more unfamiliar. Shortly after, they were accompanied by sounds. The voice that had seemed to linger deep inside my brain even when I wasn't linked grew louder, and like a siren it drew me further in. My mind wandered, and it felt as though my body floated through space. Then I was hovering overtop a woman with long red hair and green, fearful eyes.

Wooden bars surrounded me. I was jostled in a swaying motion from side to side, while my bottom bumped against hard wood from what appeared to be a tiny caged wagon—large enough for one. A beast resembling a reptilian bird with shriveled wings pulled the wagon. A hunched over, shaggy-haired man sat on a high bench-like seat attached to the wagon guiding the animal down a narrow dirt path. Where we were going, I did not know. My head felt full of cotton. The last thing I remembered was awakening in my cell after fainting in the arena. A man I assumed to be a physician stood over me. Ignoring me, he spoke to another man in the room dressed as a guard. He'd declared me fit and diagnosed my earlier indisposition as a case of cowardice. I'd love to see how he would have fared if our roles had been reversed. Shortly thereafter I'd been fed and allowed to sleep. In the early morning hours I'd awoken to the sound of women crying. Past my cell I'd seen guards escorting young women I hadn't seen before into cells of their own. I wondered what had become of the nineteen others who had accompanied me into the coliseum.

Tucked into the piles of straw in the corner of the wagon I noticed a gourd-shaped object with a stopper in the top. I assumed it to contain water. Uncapping it I tipped it up pouring the contents into my mouth. My lips felt dry and cracked, and the liquid, though warm, was refreshing.

Getting up onto my knees I grabbed hold of the bars and stared around the area. Overhead the bright sun shone unobstructed by any clouds. The two moons in the sky loomed, reminding me I was no longer on Earth. For the life of me I still couldn't remember how I'd ended up here. Actually, everything from my past was hazy. I'd remotely recall something or someone, but the harder I tried to focus, the quicker it seemed to slip away. It reminded me of dreams; how you wake up in the morning and try to snatch the remnants while they rush to escape. Maybe something happened to me when I was abducted? I obviously
was
abducted. So maybe they hit me over the head, or messed around with my brain or something causing all this confusion? My head hurt hashing it over and I returned to focusing on the present.

A forest of tall trees resembling those on Earth rested on either side of the rutted, bumpy trail we traveled. Bird songs sang out and fluttering small winged creatures cavorted overhead. The lazy sway of the wagon and the beautiful surrounding landscape outside my cage was sharp contrast to the vile thing going on inside of it. I was obviously still a disparaged prisoner. Despite my fear I began to feel anger bubble up inside of me. What right did they have—whoever
they
were—to do this to me? I was a human being, a feeling, thinking, intelligent being. I wasn't some animal. I turned my narrow gaze on the man holding the reins of the reptilian bird.

“Hey, you.” I made my voice as authoritative as possible.

The shaggy head turned in my direction. He twitched his mouth around and then spat onto the ground. His eyes flashed over me with disinterest. “Finally awake,” he grunted, and turned his gaze back toward the trail.

“Where are you taking me?”

He shrugged and squirmed around in his seat a moment. “To your new master,” he eventually answered.

My mouth hung open and no sound emerged.
My what?
I tried to calm my furious beating heart and rising indignation with upbeat, logical facts. At least I was no longer in the arena facing God knows what. If I indeed had a new
master
than someone wanted me alive. That was good, right? Instead of arguing with the man, or yelling something I may regret, I decided to play it cool.

“Do you know my new master, sir? Is he a kind man?”

What kind of bastard owns another person?
The righteous voice deep inside me reared its head. I'd swear sometimes it felt as though I was no longer alone in my body, but shared it with someone else. Someone who put up walls and didn't want me digging too deeply.

“Kind?” the man said with a snort. “I would not describe him as such.”

Great.

Not sure I was ready to face more chilling facts, I changed focus. “Where does he live? Is it far?”
Do I have time to escape, hijack a spaceship and fly back to Earth?

“Not far. His domus is located outside the capital.”

“His what?”

The man snorted. “Forgot you Earth girls know nothing. A domus is a home. An upper-class Roamyn home.” He spoke to me slowly, like I was an idiot.

“Roman?” Why did that word sound so familiar—not in the well-known Earth way, but in a way that had greater meaning? Something inside me reacted to the name but I wasn't sure why. I mean, it only made sense he'd say Roman considering I'd just been in a bloody coliseum full of them.

“Yes, that's right. Your planet uses the name as well—thanks to us.”

His superior attitude confused me. How could he possibly take credit for anything to do with my planet? Below the surface I felt that indignation and rage rearing up again. Something big was going on here, and if deep down some part of me knew what it was, it wasn't in a sharing mood. Though I bubbled with questions, I kept them to myself. Soon I'd be face to face with my fate.

Sure enough, the reptilian-chicken-thing turned off the trail and began pulling us up a hill on what resembled a driveway to a house perched at the top. Now my belly turned to knots and I began wringing my hands. I wanted to drink more of the water as my lips were suddenly dry again, but I hesitated, wondering if there'd be a place to relieve myself upon arrival if I had the urge. Several minutes later the cart pulled to a stop in a circular turn-around at the front of the building. It was quite large for a home—domus—but the old goat
had
said it was an upper class dwelling.

Two guards dressed similar to the ones at my earlier prison came out. One tossed a small bag to the old man I assumed held payment, the other one came round and opened up the back of my cage. Neither of them spoke to me or made eye contact. When the guard reached for me, part of me was tempted to lean back and kick him in the face. Considering I was not a violent person the urge surprised me. Instead, I allowed him to take my hand and help me out. As soon as my feet hit the ground and the cage door slammed shut again, the old man was off.

Holding tight to my arm, the young guard guided me around back of the house. I guess I wasn't important enough to warrant entering through the front. The other guard led the way and I almost had to snicker with the thought of the need for both of them to see to me. We passed through an arched gate set into a high bricked fence, and I was herded through a back yard that was quite grand. My eyes were immediately drawn to a large fountain in the center. The rest of the yard, which I estimated to be about an acre or so, was a combination of grass, cement, and stone. A long, narrow in-ground pool sat against the farthest back wall with cozy chairs placed around it. A few wealthily-dressed men and women lounged in the chairs, and what appeared to be servants, wearing short tunics of different colors, heads demurely lowered, stood close by. The guard leading us left us at this point with a few parting words to the man holding me. My guard then led me up toward a discreet back entranceway, rapped twice on the door and then entered, pulling me along. We moved passed another guard and down a wide passageway, passing several doors. The area was well lit with natural light, and gazing up, I could see many skylights overhead. The building itself seemed to be made out of poured concrete.

We stopped before a door and my guard paused a moment before knocking. Then he looked down on me. “Do not speak unless specifically asked to,” he warned me.

I nodded once. The door was opened by what appeared to be another slave; a young woman who kept her head lowered and gestured for us to enter. The room was large and sparsely furnished. The furniture was made of heavy, dark wood—a few chairs and a table. It resembled an office, or a library, as two of the walls were lined with shelves of books. A large window was centered in the far back wall, before it sat the largest, most ornate chair in the room. And in that chair sat a giant of a man, with the body of a warrior.