Tekgrrl (16 page)

This time the walls and floor were black velvet, with two bright red couches facing one another in the center of the room. A spotlight hung over them, giving a weird feeling like the area was floating in space.

A woman that rivaled Kate in gorgeousness lounged on one of the couches, sipping wine from an elaborate goblet. Her long brown hair and dark eyes only set off ruby red lips. She was wearing a black corset and leather miniskirt that showed off her assets, and fishnets and black boots that seemed like they should come with a whip. Her skin seemed to glitter, and it was only as we came closer that I saw that was because her skin was adorned with symbols and letters painted in gold. Seeing us, she handed the goblet to one of the men who were silent walls of solid muscle on either side of her—bodyguards or boy toys, I couldn’t tell.

“Well, well. Hello…Mrs. Charles, is it? I can never remember the name.” She stood up and walked over to us and gave Lainey a cool embrace. “I’m sorry I missed the wedding, but I’ve never been one for ceremony.” She motioned for us to take a seat on the couch opposite where she’d been sitting. “To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of a visit from the Old One’s current group of cronies?”

“My friend, Tekgrrl, has been the subject of memory blocks,” Lainey said, motioning to me. “They were put in place using alien technology, and Wesley believes they might be circumvented and taken down with magic.”

“But he wasn’t sure he could do it anymore?” Fantazia’s lips curled into a strange smile. “See what your life cost him?”

Lainey’s expression was fierce, but she asked simply, “Do you think you can do it or not?”

Fantazia stood up and glided over to me. As she approached, I shrank back in my seat. The aura of power radiating from her practically burned. She might look as young as any of us, but like Kate, her eyes practically screamed that she was ancient and powerful.

She bent over me and cupped her hands around my head without touching.
“La mia mente ad il vostro,”
she said, like Italian was her native language. Now that I thought of it, it probably was.

I felt a faint buzzing in the back of my mind, like hearing a badly tuned radio. A spike of pain ran through me, and I groaned.

Fantazia straightened and looked at Lainey. “Yes, I see it. It would normally take quite a number of magic users to circumvent such strange, otherworldly work.”

“But?” Lainey prompted.

“I can do it if the techno mage will help,” she said. When she motioned for one of her henchmen, he stepped forward and she directed: “Go find the Virus.” With a slight nod, he disappeared into the other room.

“So, what’s this going to cost?” Lainey asked.

Fantazia took her seat across from us again. She tapped one black-polished nail upon her red lips. “Something fairly simple for you, Mrs. Charles. I want to be able to spend some time with your child.”

Lainey’s lips thinned to a straight line. “Why would you want that?”

Fantazia’s hand fluttered to her breast. “A better question is why wouldn’t I? It’s not every day one gets to be in the presence of a person who will decide the fate of the world.”

We all knew about the prophecy that said Emily would either bring about the apocalypse or save the world from it, but it had never sounded more serious than when this ancient magic user said it. A shiver ran down my spine. Lainey seemed taken aback.

“And besides,” Fantazia continued. “She
is
my half sister.”

Kate and I both turned to gape at Lainey. The Reincarnist was this strange woman’s father?

Lainey ignored us, keeping her eyes fixed on Fantazia. After a moment of silence, she said, “If your father doesn’t care, fine.”

Kate and I exchanged glances. What other surprises were we going to be hit with?

The bodyguard Fantazia had sent into the other room reappeared, escorting a stocky bald man whose arms were covered in binary language tattoos. “Cyrus the Virus,” the bodyguard said, and then resumed his position next to Fantazia’s couch. I thought I vaguely remembered seeing the bald guy in our criminal files.

“Cyrus. Good to see you’re lurking about, abusing my hospitality,” Fantazia said.

“Whatever this is, it had better be good,” the newcomer replied, seemingly unimpressed and uncowed. “I had a great hand in the poker game you just interrupted and I’ve got rent to pay.” Seeing Lainey sitting there, he grimaced. “What’s the Old One’s wife want?”

“It’s time for you to return my favor,” Fantazia said. She gestured to me. “You’ll like the job.”

Cyrus the Virus was a techno mage and a classic villain—one who had used his powers to steal money so he didn’t have to hold a conventional job. And like every other villain who got into the game out of laziness, he was eventually caught by another team and sent to jail. He had already paid off his debt to society and had supposedly gone legit—if playing poker for your rent is legit.

Cyrus looked me up and down like I was a treat. “Very nice. If the job involves me, her, and a can of whipped cream, I think I love you, Fantazia.”

An involuntary gasp escaped me, and I fought revulsion.

Fantazia gave him an exasperated look. “No, idiot. She’s had memory blocks erected using alien technology. We’re going to break them down.”

“Really?” The Virus looked interested. “Wicked cool.”

“Have a look around,” Fantazia said, with a wave of her hand at me.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Cyrus approached. I gave Lainey a hesitant glance. After a moment’s consideration, she nodded. Glumly, I leaned forward to accept my fate.

Cyrus the Virus copied Fantazia’s earlier movement, cupping hands around my head but not touching. Looking directly into my eyes, he spoke softly: “I open my mind to the technological world. I speak its language; I see its pattern.” His eyes glowed with a strange green light. Nothing else seemed to happen, and then I felt a buzzing in the back of my mind, only louder.

“Oh, yeah, I see it,” he said. “Wow. That’s some handiwork.” He peered into my eyes, but not at them, looking almost through me. I twitched uncomfortably in my seat.

“Excellent,” Fantazia said, getting up. “Ladies, I need you to move so that she can lie down, and I need one of you at her feet and one at her arms. We’ll probably need you to hold her in place.”

At that bit of good news, my heart started pounding furiously, but I did as I was told, palms sweating, head pounding and already feeling more than a bit nauseated.

Fantazia and Cyrus took their places on either side of my head.

“I won’t lie,” Fantazia remarked. “This is going to hurt like hell. And I can’t guarantee what you’ll be like when we’re done. Are you sure you want to do this?”

You’ll go insane from what they did to you,
my mother had warned. I wanted to scream no, that I could just wait until the blocks broke down naturally or something else happened, but I knew in my heart that I had to go through with this.

As I couldn’t find my voice, I nodded my acceptance.

Fantazia patted my head like a small child, which I guess to her I was. “It’ll all be over soon, one way or the other…” She looked up at Cyrus. “Ready?”

He nodded, eyes glistening. “Oh, hell yeah.”

Fantazia grinned. “Let’s do this.
E’ ora di abbatterie i muri.”

Both of their hands plunged to my temples and forehead.

I started screaming.

I sat at my desk in the formal classroom, chairs lined up in a row facing the teacher. I particularly stood out, looking like a ghost in my improperly fitting white linen, wide-sleeved unisex shirt and pants, the requisite uniform of every student.

I wanted to make a good impression for all of humankind, so I sat quietly at my desk, spine ramrod straight, glancing at the holo-pad in front of me, mentally changing the swooping curls and symbols of Kalybrian script into English numbers and letters.

It was a lovely, inviting spring day outside, and I had the misfortune to be seated next to an open window. With every breeze, spicy and exotic scents wafted in, practically begging me to go romp in the lovely weather, perhaps play with my foster brother and sister a game of drakenball, a sport somewhat like football and baseball combined that all the young teens my age played. Or perhaps I could spend the afternoon with my foster mother making likchen, an ice-cream-like delicacy of Kalybri.

Despite the fact that I was on an alien planet, my life here was the most normal it had ever been. I had brothers and sisters, I went to school and did homework before helping my mother prepare dinner, and was currently learning from my father how Kalybrian transportation vehicles worked. I was happy.

“Man-dei, do you know the answer?” As always, the teacher spoke in Kalybrian, and my name sounded foreign with her strange accent, but my mind translated.

“That was in stardate twenty-three, one-eighty-nine, madam,” I responded.

She nodded. “Thank you, Man-dei.”

The wind blew harder now, like a storm was coming. Sure enough, as I glanced outside, the formerly bright day had darkened, like a group of clouds had suddenly appeared. Strange, but I didn’t think anything of it until a few seconds later when harsh sirens sounded. Everyone looked up, concerned.

Our teacher looked the most worried. “Probably just a drill, children,” she said, but her voice quavered. “Let’s conduct ourselves in an orderly fashion. You need to return to your domiciles immediately. Do not go anywhere else. Curfew has been instituted for everyone.”

We had never been told to return home before in our drills, or had a curfew, and I noticed the ripple of excitement and worry in the student body. This was out of the ordinary and strange, but like all children, we were thrilled to be getting out early.

As I followed the other students out into the hall, I heard my name being called, and turned. Anyoska, my foster sister, came up to me.

“I wonder what’s going on,” she said.

“So, this isn’t usual?” I asked, even though I knew it wasn’t.

“Maybe father will know,” Anyoska mused. “My teacher said they called curfew for the whole village.”

“Sounds serious.”

Anyoska nodded. “Maybe there’s a bad storm coming.”

As soon as we stepped outside, we knew why it was dark. There was a giant black spaceship hanging in the sky overhead.

“Maker save us,” Anyoska breathed.

“What the hell is that?” I said.

“Come on!” She grabbed my hand, knocking my data pads out of my grasp and yanking me toward her home.

“Wait, my schoolwork!”

“Leave it!” she hissed, dragging me along.

“Anyoska, what’s going on?”

“We’re being invaded.”

We ran.

“Anyoska, Man-dei! Thank the Maker,” said my foster brother, Dyvinsher, appearing out of nowhere. He was headed back the way we had come, and it was unsettling to see him carrying a weapon. The Kalybri never carried weapons; this was only the second time I had ever seen one in a whole year on their planet. “You’ve got to get inside.”

“Who is it, Dyvinsher?” Anyoska asked.

His expression was grim. “It’s the Vyqang.” My foster sister’s face drained of color, and I knew this was a bad thing.

And that’s when the screaming began.

Men of varying colors and shapes suddenly rounded the corner of the town square behind us, dressed in ragged leather, torn flight suits and loaded up with a variety of weapons. I watched in horror as one rammed a sword through a townsperson, while another set a building ablaze with his flamethrower.

“Go!” Dyvinsher screamed, turning to face the invaders, unleashing a spray of bullets from his weapon. Anyoska’s fingers bit into my arm as she pulled me away and toward her house.

We skidded to a stop near the front door. A body was lying across the front lawn, in pieces.

“Father!” Anyoska screamed, and I felt bile rise in my throat. This intelligent and kind man had met a terrible end.

A strange man-creature covered in scales and with dirty dreadlocked hair and what looked like horns coming out of his face, but on second glance turned out to be bones actually piercing his skin, stepped out of the house and caught sight of us. He raised his heavy gun and pointed it.

“Run!” I screamed to my foster sister, and we both took off. I heard a strange blasting noise from behind, and a second later the sound of a body hitting the ground.
Anyoska!
Then came another noise, and a sizzling pain hit me in the back. My body and mind went numb.

When I came to, I was lying on a cold metal floor that was also itchy. Forcing my eyes open, I noticed it was because someone had halfheartedly tossed straw down, I guess to make up for the lack of a bed. There was the sound of crying, and I looked up to see I was in a small cage barely high enough to sit up in, let alone stand.

“Man-dei?” A small form crawled toward me, and I noticed it was my foster sister.

“Anyoska!” I embraced her. “I thought that creature killed you.”

She shook her head, and I noticed her eyes were glassy and dull. “The Vyqang do not kill females.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

I looked around, seeing other small cages surrounding us, with weeping figures inside. Some of them housed familiar Kalybrian faces; other prisoners were strange alien species I had never seen. All of them were female. All looked scared out of their minds.

“Anyoska, where are we?” I asked.

“Aboard a Vyqang hunting ship,” she said.

“Hunting? What are they hunting?”

“Us.”

I shook in terror. “What do you mean, us? What’s going to happen, Anyoska?” I clung to my sister in fear.

“The Vyqang are plunderers, warriors-males. No one knows their planet of origin. They travel the galaxies, raiding whatever planets they like, taking their crops, fine metals and technology for their own use.” She met my eyes. “And their females.”

Her unspoken meaning settled in.
“No.”

“There are no female Vyqang. They have no way to reproduce.” She swallowed harshly. “For that reason, they round up the women of the planets they raid. Some become slaves or bed warmers to the Vyqang or are sold to other brutal species. The rest…” She broke off in tears. “The rest they turn into breeders.”