The Face of Earth (26 page)

Caman shook off the sudden feeling of foreboding that flooded over him. He quietly entered the room. The curtains were open, and the morning sunlight reflected off a pool of blood. The premier’s body lay sprawled in the center of it, eyes wide in death. Caman froze in shock for only a moment before he recovered his senses and quickly shut the door behind him. He locked it to ensure no one else would enter. His heart beat faster, not in fear, but in excitement. He stooped and ran his finger through the blood on the floor. His unique biology allowed his body to take in the premier’s DNA and process it. Within seconds he wore the premier’s face. He smiled with the premier’s mouth.

Caman surveyed the mess on the floor. Taking a breath, he waded into the blood and took hold of the premier’s wrists, dragging him across the floor to the fireplace. The mantel was well above Caman’s head, and the hearth wide enough to place the premier’s body into it. Caman piled wood around the corpse and set fire to it, then stood back and watched it burn. The skin bubbled, and soon the smell of roasting meat filled the room. Caman kept the windows closed, forcing the scent to waft out the chimney. With zenothar already roasting for breakfast, the two aromas should intermingle above the house, and keep the rest of the household unaware of the burning body.

He turned his attention to the bloody floor. The blood pooled on the extravagant tile. Caman was glad the premier had insisted on this tile despite its cost. Its nonporous nature would make it easy to clean. He removed his shirt and used it to mop up the blood. He made several trips to the bathroom to rinse it out, reusing it until the floor was clean. Then he threw it on the fire. He undressed, setting each piece of his clothing on the fire. Then he showered to wash off the blood.

Once Caman was clean and dry, he moved to the closet and opened it. He ran his fingers over the rich fabric of the premier’s clothing and smiled. Choosing an outfit, he dressed and went to the fireplace. Only a charred skeleton remained. Caman stoked the fire and added wood to increase the heat. He couldn’t leave the room until there wasn’t any trace of the body. He looked around for something to accelerate the fire. An open bottle of wine and two glasses stood on a serving tray on the dresser. Next to it a plate overflowed with scrumptious delicacies from all over the planet.

Caman grimaced. The premier’s technique for wooing his new wives included subdue and seduce, in that order. He had wondered what kind of woman allowed herself to be seduced by someone who forced her to be submissive. The corner of his mouth lifted as he thought about the Earthling. At least he knew now what kind of woman didn’t allow seduction to follow abuse.

He grabbed the bottle by its neck and took it to the fire, dumping the entire contents on the flames. The fire jumped and the heat increased, forcing Caman to take a step back and shield his eyes. He read the label on the bottle, impressed. Good wine!

A servant knocked on the door. “Your magnificence, may I come in?”

Caman looked back to the fire. The bones crumbled as the flames roared, but they were still mostly intact. He needed a little more time. “Come back later. I wish to rest a bit longer,” he said loudly.

“As you wish.” The servant’s footsteps faded as he retreated down the corridor.

Caman’s stomach rumbled. He went to the tray and helped himself to the food. He closed his eyes as the flavors erupted in his mouth. The servants never ate like this! He lounged on the bed as he ate his fill, watching the fire burn. After awhile only ash and charred logs remained. He rose and went to the chamber door, unlocking it. He stepped outside, remembering to walk regally, as if he owned everything. Then it struck him. He did own everything! And he could do anything! He grinned as he strode purposefully down the hall. He had some changes to make.

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Sharra’s spies had discovered that Agnar’s ship was seen heading to the Kytor System. It wasn’t really difficult to find or track his ship, as it was unique and had once been hers. Tresar and Flavoi immediately joined Rathor and his crew to go and rescue Karina. As they entered the system, they kept a constant surveillance on Agnar’s ship. They watched as his ship’s signal joined with Raffort Prime, then left it, then turned around and returned to the planet. Rathor was confused. “What is he doing?”

“Maybe he forgot something,” Flavoi quipped.

Rathor looked thoughtful. “Maybe. At least he is giving us time to reach him. His ship is faster than ours, so the more stops he makes, the more likely it is that we will catch up with him.”

Rathor’s ship had almost reached the planet when Agnar’s ship left it at high speed, heading right toward them. Tresar couldn’t believe their luck. They watched as his ship slowed, setting an almost leisurely pace back toward the more populated area of the galaxy. As they moved to intercept, Agnar’s ship came to a halt in front of them. Rathor ordered a stop as well. He scanned Agnar’s ship.

“If she’s wearing the necklace I gave her, you won’t get a reading,” Tresar said.

Rathor looked up from his console. “Then she is not wearing the necklace. She is one of two people on board that ship. The other is a Yalsan.”

Tresar’s tone was venomous. “Agnar.”

“It could be one of his crew,” Flavoi interjected.

Tresar’s eyes narrowed at the ship on the viewscreen. He shook his head. “No, it’s Agnar. I know it.”

“Let’s find out.” Flavoi moved to the communication console and opened a connection to the other ship. Agnar’s grinning face filled the screen.

“Hello, boys. Did you miss me? You must have if you went to all this trouble to track me down.” Agnar grinned at the group of Bitowans on his screen, belatedly noticing the two Yalsans with them. “Tresar! Flavoi! I see you fellows managed to leave the loving embrace of our countrymen. Good for you!”

Tresar glowered at the unrepentant pirate. “Did you lose another crew, Agnar? I hope their loss wasn’t as brutal as the crew before them.”

Agnar’s cheery demeanor turned dark. “I wouldn’t bring that up, Tresar. I lost good men at Bitowa. You lost only possessions.”

“We want Karina,” Flavoi interrupted. “Hand her over now.”

“We know you’re holding her captive. Let her go! Or I swear I’ll chase you to the edge of the galaxy and beyond.” Tresar was shaking and spitting his words, he was so angry.

Agnar contemplated Tresar. He understood this man. If Agnar gave him what he wanted, he would no longer want it. “Karina is free to leave whenever she wants. She isn’t my prisoner anymore.” He gestured to someone off-screen. “Karina, your friends have come for you. Would you like to go with them?”

Karina stared at Agnar in shock for a moment. Was he serious about freeing her? He nodded at her in answer to her unasked question. Karina stood up and moved into view of the screen.

“Tresar! Flavoi! It’s good to see you!” At the sight of her Tresar turned white and Flavoi’s jaw dropped. Karina felt confused at their less than happy reaction to seeing her. “What’s the matter?”

Tresar was the first to recover. “You’re covered in blood!” His tone became accusing. “What did you do?”

Karina had forgotten about her gory appearance in her joy at seeing her two friends. She looked down at her dress, smoothing the front of the skirt where the drying blood was stiffening the fabric. “Oh. This. I . . .” She trailed off, not knowing how to tell Tresar about her cold-blooded killing of the premier. She remembered too well how he had reacted to her story of the man she had tortured and killed on Earth.

“That’s a Raffortian wedding gown!” Flavoi exclaimed.

Tresar managed to turn even whiter. “What did you do?” His hands ached as he gripped the railing in front of him. He almost didn’t want her to answer. He was afraid she might say that she murdered the groom.

Agnar had been silent while watching the conversation between Karina and her friends. He interrupted, not sugar-coating the answer. “She killed Premier Bartholos on the eve of her marriage to him. Would you like to offer your condolences to his many widows?”

Tresar nearly choked at Agnar’s reply. He looked at Karina as if she had grown another head.

“Tresar!” Karina’s cry was flooded with anguish. “I swear it was in self-defense!”

Tresar’s eyes held Karina’s as he asked the question she dreaded to answer. “Was he trying to kill you?”

“No, but he was going to hurt me very badly.” Karina pleaded with her eyes for Tresar to understand. Looking into his eyes, she knew he didn’t.

Tresar turned away and walked out of view. “No.” His off-screen reply was almost inaudible. “We don’t rescue murderers.”

Flavoi was arguing with Rathor. “We came to rescue her, so let’s just get her and go.”

Rathor shook his head. “Tresar is right. She will be a wanted woman. She did not just murder her husband; she assassinated the ruler of Raffort Prime. We cannot take her now, or we will be considered accomplices.”

Flavoi looked at Karina apologetically. “I’m sorry. I hope we see each other again someday.” Rathor leaned over him and disconnected the call. Karina watched as the Bitowan ship turned and left. She couldn’t believe it. She sank down into the frills of her skirt until she sat on the floor. She shook her head back and forth in disbelief.

Agnar cleared his throat to remind her of his presence. She looked up at him, blue eyes dry. “That fucking asshole. He’s supposed to be my friend.” Karina integrated the English swear words into her Yalsan sentence.

Agnar laughed at this unexpected response to Tresar’s rejection. He went over and helped her up. “Maybe you should go get cleaned up before anyone else calls. Then you won’t have to explain what you’ve done.”

“Don’t you want to be rid of me too?” she asked him.

Agnar smiled at her. “The most notorious pirate in four quadrants never allows a damsel in distress to be rescued from him by her friends. That would ruin his reputation.”

Karina looked sideways at him, smirking. “Don’t you mean the most notorious pirate in three quadrants?”

Agnar laughed. “I’m too well known in the three quadrants, and now that I’m the accomplice of the woman who assassinated the Premier of Raffort Prime, I thought I’d go see what the Fourth Quadrant has to offer. I’m sure I’ll be notorious in that quadrant in no time at all.” He held out his hand to her. “And since your friends have abandoned you to the most notorious pirate in the universe, maybe you would consider him as a new friend?” Agnar waited, watching Karina intently to gauge her reaction to his offer of friendship. She hesitated, unsure of him. He continued, trying to put her at ease. “You are welcome to stay here or I can drop you off at any planet of your choice. I was serious when I said you are no longer my prisoner.”

Karina thought for a moment. “The only planet I’m familiar with is Bellos, so I guess it’s my only option.”

Agnar shook his head. “If you were discovered on Bellos, they would alert Raffort Prime to your whereabouts. You would be forced to remain on the underbelly of society if you returned there.”

Agnar paused to let that sink in, knowing Karina wasn’t the type to want to remain in hiding. He continued, almost nonchalantly, hoping she wouldn’t see what her staying meant to him. “Or you could stay on this ship. It is the most advanced starship to date, so you would be safe here. And you would be free to travel wherever you please.”

Karina sighed, realizing she had little choice. She looked him in the eye and took his hand, shaking it to seal the deal. “Very well; I’ll stay. But I get Sharra’s quarters.” She waited, daring him to disagree.

Agnar laughed. “Whatever you want, Karina. Those quarters were too fancy for my taste anyway.”

Karina pulled her hand away and picked up her bloody skirts. “Well. I guess I’ll go get cleaned up.”

“Yes, you should do that. I’m going to take the ship back to my place on Yalsa. There are a few things I need to take care of if I’m going to be away for awhile.”

Karina paused at the door, turning to face him. “You’re serious about going to the Fourth Quadrant, then?”