Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (4 page)

Tahn backed away, then turned and strode out the door into the corridor. A handful of technicians walked briskly by, saluting. He returned the gesture hollowly.

Finally, Iona exited to stand beside him and Mikael’s door slipped closed.

Tahn pointed a finger sternly. “Baruch isn’t going to come aboard easily. I want a member of your staff on the security team. Have him prepare a dose large enough to handle a raging Orillian lion.”

Iona nodded contemplatively, fastening his bag. “You’re sure Horeb will turn him over?”

“I’m damned sure. The Magistrates haven’t given them any choice. And find Dannon. I want somebody to give a positive ID of Baruch. Nobody else has ever seen him in the flesh.”

Iona threw out his chin indignantly. “You want
me
to find Neil Dannon? Begging your pardon, sir, but I have more important things to do than turn every female crew member’s cabin upside down.”

Neil Dannon had once been Baruch’s closest friend and second in command of the Underground fleet until he’d betrayed Baruch during the Silmar battle a few months ago. Tahn’s crew had despised Dannon from the day he’d stepped aboard.

Angry with indecision, feeling impotent, Tahn snapped, “Then start with the bars, Doctor! I’ll expect a report from you in half an hour.”

He spun on his heel and headed for the bridge, practically running down the white corridors to the closest transport tube.

When he walked out onto the bridge an ominous silence descended. Composed of two levels, the room opened around him in an oval. On the lower level, officers sat in twos stationed side by side in four niches. His chair, with its massive array of buttons and computer access links, occupied the upper level, giving him a complete view of every action on the bridge. His second in command, First Lieutenant Carey Halloway, swiveled around to pin him with cool green eyes. A tall athletic woman, her auburn hair hung straight over her brows and fell to her shoulders to brush the epaulets on her formfitting purple uniform.

Tahn ignored her and turned to his redheaded communications officer. “Macey? Get me that High Councilman on Horeb. Let’s get this over with.”

“Aye, sir,” Macey responded. The com aura burst to life, glowing like a golden halo around Macey’s head.

Halloway’s eyes narrowed and Tahn’s jaw muscles jumped at the look she gave him. They’d been arguing for a week, debating the rights and wrongs of the curious orders they’d been getting lately. And just now, he could see that same mutinous gleam in her emerald eyes—as though she were clandestinely saying:
Don’t do this. Cole.
Only days ago, after they’d scorched the planet of Kayan, she’d stamped into his cabin and demanded a stiff scotch. He could still hear her strained voice …

“What the hell are we doing, Cole?”

“I’m obeying orders. I’m not sure what you’re doing anymore.”

“Goddamn it! We’ve just been ordered to kill another planet! How can you sit there so calmly?”

“It’s only a level two attack, Carey. We’ll destroy all the known habitation centers. The planet’s resources will be intact. Some of the people might even survive. But the nuisance factor will be completely eliminated.”

“And you can live with that?”

At the time, he’d wanted to tell her, “No.” But he couldn’t. They’d had orders to carry out. And now, as she lifted a brow and studied him pensively, he wanted to tell her again. Instead, he strode forward and dropped into his command chair.

“Captain,” Macey informed him, “I have the Councilman.”

“On screen, Lieutenant.”

Councilman Oraias’ tanned face formed. His braided beard, sandy hair, and smug smile looked store-window perfect despite the civil war that currently raged across the surface of his planet. Dressed regally in a gold silk robe, he seemed to be standing in some underground rock chamber. Red stone walls glimmered darkly in candlelight. “Greetings, Captain. I understand the Magistrates have considered my offer?”

Tahn glowered. The bridge crew had gone rigid, eyes glued to the screen. At her console, Halloway cursed. Ornias had outrageously demanded that the Magistrates give him the planet Grinlow in exchange for Baruch.

“Let’s get this on the table quickly, Councilman. The Magistrates say no to your request for Grinlow. However, they will up the reward for Baruch to five billion notes. Do you accept or reject?”

The Councilman’s face tensed, his lime green eyes hardening. “Five billion is hardly enough to—”

“Yes, or no.”

“You don’t mind if I think about it for a short time, do you, Captain?”

“I’ll give you five minutes. In the meantime,
put Baruch on. I want to see him.”

Ornias inclined his head cooperatively and Tahn’s stomach muscles tightened as two guards in gray uniforms shoved a tall muscular blond in front of the screen. Standing with his hands bound behind his back, the blond lifted his bearded chin defiantly. He had the most piercing blue eyes Tahn had ever seen. A sheen of sweat matted the man’s hair to his forehead and temples.

“Baruch,” he said tautly.

“Tahn.”

They stared hard at each other and a hollowness boomed in Tahn’s chest. The brain death that awaited this brilliant military commander was less than he deserved—but Tahn couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Feeling trapped and indecisive, he lightly pounded a fist against his chair arm.

“You’ll be well-treated, Baruch. I give you my word.”

“Until you get me to the nearest neurophysiology center.”

“Nonetheless—”

“Did you give your word to the innocent victims on Kayan? Or Pitbon?”

Tahn shifted uncomfortably. Both worlds had been devastated by beam cannon fire—almost nothing had survived. “I wasn’t at Pitbon.”

“No,” Baruch challenged, struggling against the hard hands of the guards who held him. “How about Jumes or Wexlen? I
know
you were there.”

Tahn looked up slowly. Baruch had pulled magnificent maneuvers in those battles, slipping through his fingers before Tahn knew what had happened.
But not this time, Baruch. Not this time…

“Councilman?” Tahn called, indicating the discussion with Baruch was over. He sat up straighter when Ornias stepped back in front of the monitor.

CHAPTER 2

On Horeb, the third moon rose over jagged maroon peaks, washing the sandy plains with a brooding silver light. Jeremiel Baruch shook the cuffs that cinched his hands behind his back and gazed steadily at the dusk sky.
Hoyer’s
shuttle dove out of the heavens like a deadly lance. How long did he have? Two minutes? Three?

Rage burned inside him. Ornias had slipped away in the fight that erupted just after Jeremiel’s conversation with Tahn. The Councilman’s henchmen had died to the last man to provide covering fire while Ornias escaped through the honeycomb of secret passageways that laced the rock beneath the palace.
My fault. I should have shot him the instant I got my hands on a pistol.

Baruch braced his feet, watching the shuttle. Around him, charred and broken buildings loomed blackly. People raced through the smoky war-torn streets, clubs or rifles clutched to their bosoms. Somewhere, a baby wailed. In the distance, flashes of fire from the continuing war splashed the desert.

He took a deep breath as he studied the way the ship banked, circling the spaceport. “Blessed Epagael,” he prayed softly. “Just one more time. Let this work and I swear I’ll become a Believer again.” Operation Abba was an untried plan—an insane plan meant only for times as desperate as he now faced.

Around his shoulders, he felt ghostly ancestors crowd. People who’d fought arrogant conquerors all their lives. People who’d been crushed beneath the wheels of fate and refused to stay down. Their confident voices whispered encouragements to him, eerily real in the still winds of dusk.

“Harper?” he called to the tall black guard standing behind him. Harper stepped forward, leveling his rifle at Jeremiel’s stomach. Baruch looked at it and threw him a weary smile. “Sure you don’t want to change your mind?”

Harper shook his head faintly, glancing up at the shuttle. “Too late for that. Janowitz? Uriah?” he called to the other guards. “Get ready.”

The shuttle landed in a burst of dirt and hot wind. Jeremiel ducked his head. Three Magisterial guards in purple and gray uniforms flooded down the shuttle’s gangplank and ran toward him. Another man, redheaded and short, stayed by the shuttle entry, his rifle clutched tightly as he studied the mayhem that filled the streets of Horeb. People still ran screaming, trying to get into ships before the Magisterial attack.

“That’s him,” the tall dark-haired lieutenant said as he pointed at Jeremiel. “Put him in the shuttle. And hurry. We’ve only got a few minutes before this entire planet goes up in flames.”

The blond corporal grinned maliciously. “Come on, Baruch. We’ve got a nice cold lab chair waiting for you.”

“Yeah,” the lieutenant chuckled. “And the probe helmet’s included for free.”

All three soldiers laughed uproariously. The two corporals grabbed Jeremiel by the arms and brutally searched him, then forced him toward the ship. Harper, Uriah, and Janowitz brought up the rear.

Jeremiel stepped into the narrow crew compartment lined with padded blue benches. He could see the entire length of the white fuselage. Four round portals dotted the hull. He went to the far side and waited pensively. When Harper and his team tried to follow, one of the Magisterial soldiers threw out an arm to block their entry.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” the sergeant asked Harper.

“With you, mister!” Harper declared defensively. “My orders are not to release Baruch to anyone but Captain Tahn!”

“You don’t trust us with a five billion note prize, eh?”

“No.”

Jeremiel glanced from one man to the next. The tall dark-haired lieutenant exhaled hard and scrutinized Harper. “I’m Lieutenant Simons. Who the hell are you? My orders are to take Baruch
alone.”

Harper’s mahogany face went stony. “I’m Councilman Ornias’ agent, Lieutenant. My name’s Harper. The Councilman ordered us to go along to insure his investment.” Harper subtly regripped his rifle. “If we don’t go, Lieutenant, neither does Baruch.”

“Oh, for God’s sake! Just a minute,” Simons huffed, throwing up his hands. “Let me tran the
Hoyer
and get Tahn’s okay. We don’t have time to argue.”

Jeremiel gritted his teeth, watching Simons and his red-haired copilot head for the command cabin. The other two members of the Magisterial security team shuffled aimlessly, cursing under their breath about “goddamned Gamants.” Through the open door, shouts and cries rose in a deafening crescendo. Gunfire shredded the city streets. A brilliant flash of purple lit the interior of the shuttle and both soldiers spun to peer out the side portals.

Jeremiel screamed,
“Now, Harper!”
and lunged forward, leveling a kick at the closest soldier’s throat. The man fell backward, dead before he hit the floor. Jeremiel whirled as Simons raced back, his pistol aimed.

The shuttle blazed with rifle fire.

Jamie Ryngold sprinted down the long white hall. Of medium height with broad shoulders and blue eyes, he had short brown hair that brushed the tops of his ears as he ran. Five other members of the security team weaved around him. They hurried toward the landing bay to meet Captain Tahn and the shuttle transporting their prisoner up from Horeb. A smile of excitement touched Jamie’s lips. The great Jeremiel Baruch, leader of the Gamant Underground and murderer of dozens of his friends—
at last, they had him.
He silently raised a fist to the ceiling in exultation.

“You look happy,” Kell Gilluy, his lover, said wryly.

He smiled at her. Tall, with a mass of blonde curls and blue eyes, her purple uniform hugged her body, accenting every toned muscle. “Happy? That’s an understatement.” He affectionately patted the med pack on his belt. “Maybe I should have overfilled this syringe and taken care of Baruch without any further fuss.”

“Not a good idea, love. The Magistrates prefer to have him alive so they can drain him dry of every shred of information first.”

“Yeah, I know. With Baruch’s wealth of knowledge, we ought to be able to permanently kill his damnable Underground Movement.” The faces of a dozen dead friends flashed before his eyes. His jaw hardened.

“Let’s hope Iona finally found that scum, Dannon, so we’ll have a positive ID on Baruch. I won’t believe it’s actually him until we verify it.”

They passed a few engineering technicians dressed in brown jumpsuits. The glare of the dim overhead panels spread like a veil of dove-colored silk over the walls, glinting in the metallic facets of bulkheads. The wall chronometers flashed the time.

“Damn,” Kell said, “Tahn’s going to kick our asses for being late.”

“You think Baruch’s already on board? I doubt it. Simons left less than an hour ago to pick him up off Horeb.”

They slowed to a brisk walk as they rounded another corner and from the edge of his vision, he saw Kell whirl. He turned in time to see her flinch as though at the flick of a whip. Her knees went weak and she grabbed for the wall, bracing her hands against it to steady herself.