The Face of Earth (13 page)

Tresar and Flavoi were staring in disbelief at Karina. Flavoi spoke first. “You know this man?” he asked, pointing to the grinning pirate.

Karina snorted. “Know him? No, but I recognize his face. He was waiting to speak with the leader of that sniveling bunch of sheep when the cops brought me to their headquarters. Around a year later I was frozen for the first time in their thrown-together cryogenic contraption. I overheard later that he was the man who had given them the key to immortality.”

Agnar looked smug. “Ah, it’s good to know I’m revered as a savior to some species. My own species doesn’t seem to appreciate me.” He looked pointedly at Tresar and Flavoi.

Flavoi folded his arms across his chest and glared back at the pirate. “Some species can more readily identify a common criminal.” His barb seemed to irritate the pirate.

“Enough talk! Do you surrender?” Agnar paused, looking at Karina with interest, remembering the protective response she had aroused in him on their first meeting. It had lasted for only a moment, but at least she made him feel something. That was more than he could say for most women he met. “You speak our language well, Earthling. Tell me, how long did it take you to learn it?” he asked, addressing Karina.

“My name is Karina,” she replied, emphasizing her name for him as if he were the stupidest man in the universe, “not Earthling. And I see no reason to acquaint you with my capabilities,” she continued haughtily.

Agnar chuckled, amused at her posturing. “Never mind. I can do the math. It takes about nine months of distortion travel to get here from the Milky Way, so you learned Yalsan sometime within that time frame. Impressive, Earthling.” He deliberately emphasized the word to provoke Karina. “It only took me a few months to learn your simple language,” he continued in English. He scrutinized her for a moment and then grinned winningly at her. “Why don’t you ditch these two jackasses and come with me? I’m a lot more fun,” he cajoled. “Besides, if I hadn’t sold that technology to the Lazarus League, you wouldn’t be alive right now. You should thank me.”

Tresar and Flavoi looked at Karina, waiting for a translation. They couldn’t understand what Agnar had just said, because they hadn’t learned Karina’s language. Why bother when she was the only humanoid to speak it? She didn’t translate, but continued to speak angrily to Agnar in her own language.

“Now why would I join you? You’re the reason I spent so much time in that ice coffin, and they’re the reason I’m no longer in it.” She folded her arms across her chest and sneered, “You’re the last person I’d ever consider joining.” She glared at him and added, “Or thanking.”

Her icy tone annoyed Agnar. He bit back an angry response and turned his attention to Flavoi. “You could give me the Earthling and I would let you leave peacefully,” he offered. His gaze wandered back to Karina and he found himself staring into her eyes. Something in his chest twisted in response to the fire in them as she glowered at him. He cleared his throat and wrenched his eyes away, returning his gaze to Flavoi. “Or I will take your ship and its cargo by force, and keep the Earthling anyway.”

Tresar looked up from the console he had been working at while Agnar was distracted with Karina and Flavoi. “Neither, Agnar. Have a nice trip.” He smiled and tapped a key on the console. Agnar’s face was replaced by a view of his ship against a background of galaxies. A yellow light flashed around the ship and it disappeared. Karina and Flavoi stared open-mouthed at the now empty spot the pirate ship had occupied. Tresar leaned back in his chair and smiled at the screen.

“Where . . . what . . .” Flavoi seemed to be having trouble with his tongue.

“What happened?” Karina demanded, recovering from her surprise first.

Tresar chuckled. “I’ve been dying to test that on something bigger than my skiff. I’m just glad it worked. I still haven’t perfected it enough for conventional use.” He started laughing. “I wish I could see the look on his face when Agnar discovers he’s in the Bitowan System. After stealing from them, I don’t think the Bitowans will be too receptive.”

Flavoi looked at Tresar in disbelief. “Where exactly in the Bitowan System did you put him?”

“Right now he should be floating in orbit around Bitowa. I think it’ll take him some time to extract himself from this particular predicament.”

Flavoi joined Tresar in a good laugh at the thought of Agnar’s fate. Karina just smiled and shook her head. This was turning out to be one hell of an adventure. There was something that bothered her, though. “Tresar, we figured that I’ve been frozen for a long time, right?”

Tresar gave her a strange look. “Yes. Why?”

“How is it that Agnar is still alive and doesn’t look any different from the day I saw him on Earth?”

Flavoi interrupted before Tresar could speak. “I can answer that one. Agnar is an excellent pirate, and has stolen things from many species. The Stelairian species have found the cure for aging. They live forever unless killed. He stole some kind of youth elixir from them about eight hundred years ago, and has tortured the universe with his presence ever since. About the only way for him to die is to kill him, and he is a very hard man to kill.”

Tresar grimaced. “Maybe the Bitowans will kill him.”

“Not likely,” Flavoi said. “He’s been in far worse situations than the one you just put him in, and when he extricates himself, he’ll come looking for us.”

“Then we better get going.” Tresar moved from the science console and took the captain’s seat. Flavoi grinned and restarted the star drive.

“Where are we going?” Karina asked.

“We’re still going into the Vontyr Galaxy, but we can’t go back to Yalsa. That’s the first place Agnar will look.” Tresar paused to consider their options.

“How about Bellos?” Flavoi piped in. “I’ve always wanted to visit the most beautiful planet in the Vontyr Galaxy, and since we had no plans beyond that archeological dig on Earth, we may as well have some fun.”

Tresar turned to Karina. “What do you think?”

Karina grinned. “I’ve never been to another planet in another galaxy before, but I would prefer the most beautiful if given a choice.”

Tresar laughed. “Bellos it is, then.” He turned back to Flavoi. “Set course for Bellos, Flavoi.”

“Yes, sir, Captain, sir.” Flavoi gave Tresar a mock salute and steered the ship into the Vontyr Galaxy.

CHAPTER 10

Agnar stared in horror at the planet below his ship. He knew it well, having been there before on his more daring raids. Bitowans weren’t the most intelligent species, but due to their warlike nature, they had invented some ingenious weapons. And he had stolen enough from them to make him less than welcome. Agnar’s starship was well within their territory; no doubt the alarm had already been sounded. Jawol gaped at the viewscreen uncomprehendingly.

“Sir . . .” he began, but was interrupted by the proximity alarm. Hundreds of small fighter ships began appearing on the planet’s horizon as the Bitowans launched an offensive, their usual welcome for strangers to their world. Agnar gripped the rail, turning his knuckles white.

“Jawol, get us out of here!” he yelled.

Jawol didn’t hesitate, turning the ship and engaging the system drive without even setting a course. He had just realized where they were, having accompanied Agnar on forays into Bitowa, and knew the danger of getting caught there again. The rest of the crew were already running to their battle stations, not needing a command to tell them what was coming next.

The first of the fighters caught up with them and the ship rocked with a barrage of fire from all sides. The crew responded with their own fire from the various weapon consoles all over the conglomerate ship. The Bitowan fighters targeted the engines, and the ship began to slow as the engines were damaged in the assault.

The high-speed battle began taking its toll on Agnar’s ship, and she came apart at the seams. Her various pieces that had once been their own small ships were becoming their own again, and the screams of dying men could be heard as she was torn apart. Agnar’s heart dropped as he realized he would have to give the order that all captains dreaded. Once he made the decision, though, he didn’t hesitate.

“Abandon ship! All hands abandon ship!” Agnar screamed into the intercom, hoping enough of his men had survived to hear the order. He grabbed Jawol by the arm and dragged him up out of his seat. The pilot hesitated, not wanting to give up, but quickly submitting when he saw the heartbroken and defeated look in Agnar’s eyes. He had never seen his captain look defeated before, and it scared him. They crammed into the nearest empty escape pod and launched into the mass of fighters now surrounding the dying ship like bees around a hive.

Agnar watched as the fighters finished off his ship, not even leaving a piece as big as a person behind. Then he stared in horror as they started picking off escape pods, one at a time. They would scan each pod, and then destroy it as if it were nothing more than garbage.

As the lead fighter came toward their pod, Agnar could hear Jawol muttering under his breath what could only be a prayer to whatever god he worshipped. The pod hummed as it was scanned. Agnar closed his eyes in resignation of his imminent death and cursed Tresar for ending what had been until now a charmed life.

Nothing happened. Agnar closed his eyes tighter and held his breath. Nothing. He slowly opened one eye and looked out the window. A lasso connected the escape pod to the lead ship. Jawol began laughing a harsh humorless laugh. The ship was towing them toward Bitowa.

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Agnar and Jawol were brought to Emperor Varton in chains and forced to kneel at the foot of his throne. As the emperor contemplated them, Agnar had time to reflect on the hopelessness of their situation. The Bitowans were far from kind to their captives. The few they took usually wished they had died with their comrades. He stared up at the emperor, matching his baleful glare. Emperor Varton was as ugly as the rest of his species. Bitowans were humanoid, but the similarities ended there. They were taller than most other humanoid species. They had no hair on their bodies, and their skin was a sickly yellow. The hair on their heads was coarse and the strands were thick. They had only four digits on each hand, three fingers and a thumb. Their faces were long, with pointed chins and noses, and their eyes were black. Agnar found them to be quite repulsive.

Emperor Varton motioned to the guards. The guards roughly pulled the captives to their feet and separated them. The emperor rose and walked slowly toward Jawol. Jawol trembled, fear evident on his face. He had heard rumors of Bitowan torture, and knew he couldn’t hope for mercy. The emperor nodded to the two guards holding him. They turned Jawol so that his back was to the emperor. Emperor Varton looked at Agnar as he drew a thin, sharp knife from somewhere within his robes. His eyes never left Agnar’s as he carved deep into the back of Jawol’s neck with the blade, reached into the gaping wound, and casually ripped out his spine. Agnar did something he thought he would never do in the face of any adversity. He fainted.

When Agnar regained consciousness he was lying on the floor of a cramped and dimly lit cell. He sat up, and his head brushed the ceiling. He felt nauseous and hungry at the same time. Whenever he closed his eyes he could see the look of shock and betrayal on Jawol’s face as his spine was torn out. He put his head in his hands and cried. After a short time the tears dried up and Agnar just felt sick. He tried to stretch his arms out, testing the strength of his chains. They were as well made as any of the Bitowans’ armor. He sighed and gave up the effort. He looked around the tiny cell, which had a meter-high ceiling and was barely long enough to allow him to lie down straight. Dim light shone through a small square in the ceiling in the middle of the cell. Agnar scooted to the hole, hoping to see daylight through it. He reached the hole in time to be pelted with various bits of not so fresh food. When he looked up he saw an ugly face grinning down at him.

“Dinnertime, thief.” The Bitowan’s voice was low and raspy, and unpleasant to the ear. “We do not want you to lose your strength before the emperor decides what to do with you.” He laughed harshly and left, taking the light with him.

Agnar tested the door of the cell and found it to be quite solid. He ignored the food and crawled to the other end of the cell. Shivering with fear and revulsion, he curled up into a ball and went to sleep.

When Agnar awoke in the darkened cell, he was ravenous. He felt around on the floor, finding the bits of food and shoving them into his mouth. It tasted terrible, but eased his cravings. He forced himself to finish the scraps even after his hunger was satisfied. He would need his strength if he was going to escape.

This routine went on for more days than Agnar could count. He was fed once a day, and left in darkness and solitude the rest of the time. His cell stank terribly after the first day, since there was nowhere for him to relieve himself. He designated the far corner from the door the toilet, and spent most of his time up against the door, sleeping. There wasn’t anything else to do. He didn’t grow thin as most captives would, since he was fed fairly well on the foul-tasting food. He forced himself to eat every bite, and dreamed up schemes of escape.

One day or night as he was dozing against the door, it was pulled open. He was startled awake as he fell out of the cell and dropped a meter to the floor. He looked up at the guard, blinking in the sudden light. The guard grunted and closed the door in the wall, barking an order to the two guards with him.

“Pick up this bag of filth and drag him if you must. The emperor should not be kept waiting.”

“Yes, sir!” they chorused, each grabbing an arm and pulling Agnar to his feet. They dragged him down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. Agnar attempted to walk with them, but his legs were weak from long disuse. By the time they entered the throne room, his knees and shins were scraped and bleeding. Smears of blood marked his trail as he was deposited at the foot of the throne on his hands and knees. The emperor looked at the floor in disgust.

“Clean up that mess now!” he ordered. “I will not have the blood of a Yalsan thief staining my floor!” Servants rushed to obey his command. Emperor Varton turned his attention to Agnar, who was struggling to stand, without success. The emperor switched from Bitowan to Yalsan, not knowing that Agnar could speak Bitowan.

“Do not bother to stand, thief. I have deliberated your punishment and decided that death is not severe enough for your crimes. I know you have taken a youth elixir that extends your life many times that of the average Yalsan. Your punishment will be to live until you die of old age. You will live as an animal, down on all fours.” The emperor paused and gestured around the large hall. “This room will be your home. The only time you will leave it is when you are taken outside to relieve yourself. Failure to follow these constraints will result in whippings, as I would do to any animal who misbehaved.”

Emperor Varton motioned to the two guards to remove Agnar’s chains while a servant stepped forward to place a metal collar around his neck. The emperor took the end of the chain that was attached to the collar and yanked hard. Agnar sprawled his full length at the foot of the throne. The emperor grinned and placed his feet on Agnar’s back.

“Stay. Good boy.” The emperor’s words were pleasant, but his tone was menacing. Agnar stayed where he was. His body was sore, and it felt good to be able to stretch out. He damped down his anger and tried to look docile, which in his condition wasn’t difficult. He settled onto the floor, trying to ignore the emperor’s sharp heels on his spine. His thoughts turned to escape. He had already noticed a few chinks in the Bitowans’ armor. He could bide his time.

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Agnar’s hands and knees became rough and calloused over the next few months from constant crawling. His clothes were dirty rags, and his hair was matted and tangled. He scratched at the many miniscule denizens that had taken up residence in his hair and beard. He couldn’t stand feeling their tiny feet crawling on him. It was worse torture than the emperor treating him like an animal. He watched Emperor Varton and his court carefully to determine a weakness and thus find a means of escape. One cold night when he was curled up as close to the fire as he could get without burning himself, he discovered his salvation in the guise of a princess, the emperor’s eldest daughter.

All the lights in the throne room had been extinguished, and only the fire kept the darkness at bay. The emperor sat brooding on his throne, the weight of ruling an entire solar system heavy on his shoulders. The princess entered the room silently from the side door, passing Agnar at the fireplace and gliding over the stone floor to her father’s side.

“Father, I must speak with you.” Her voice was low, but Agnar could hear her clearly across the empty room. Her father turned to her, almost smiling as he spoke.

“What is it, Sharra? Are you finding it difficult to sleep on the eve of your marriage?”

Agnar could see a shudder run through the girl at the word marriage. He saw her take a breath and brace herself for the negative reaction her words would bring.

“Father, I do not wish to marry him.” She paused as her father’s look darkened, then rushed on to justify her reluctance. “I do not love him.”

The emperor glowered at her. “And what does that have to do with it? I wish you to marry him, and so you shall.”

“But father . . . I love someone else.”

The emperor stood, towering over his daughter. “He is nothing, an insignificant tutor. He is not good enough to be First Husband. When you are empress and have your harem you can marry your tutor as well.”

“But father . . .”

“No! There will be no more discussion. Haron is the most deserving of my generals, and the most decorated in war. He conquered the planet Garwa, and asked nothing of the spoils as was his right. He asked only for you, and how could I refuse? It is a good match for you as he is not too old, and it is a good match for me as it will bind him to me as nothing else could. I say you shall marry him, and that is that. You may be my daughter and my heir, but you are also my subject, and my word is law!” The emperor’s angry expression softened as he looked at his daughter’s drooping head. He lowered his voice and was almost tender as he spoke again. “Now go to bed, for you will need your rest for the festivities tomorrow.”

Emperor Varton gave his daughter a nudge back toward the side door, then he turned and went out the door behind the throne, which led to his own bedchambers. Sharra waited, watching the door to her father’s room close. Several minutes later the light disappeared from the crack beneath the emperor’s door. At its departure, a young man appeared from behind a decorative wall curtain. Sharra turned and threw herself into his arms.