After a few moments, the view opened up onto a massive flight deck filled with armored spaceships and short-range shuttles. Jeth scanned for any sign of Avalon, finding none. That was good. For a moment, his whole body ached with his desire to be back on his ship and far, far away from here.
They exited the elevator onto C Deck, making a left and navigating several corridors before finally coming to a stop outside a door marked C-19. Two more Brethren stood in front of it, and they bowed their heads in deference to Dax.
The door opened a moment later, and Dax entered. Jeth stayed put until the guards pushed him forward. He blinked as he stepped in, his eyes needing to adjust to the dim light that seemed as dark as a cave compared to the brightness of the corridor.
He was in what looked like the living room of a large, luxurious hotel suite. Then he realized that was exactly what it was, a stateroom designed for wealthy cruise ship patrons. The décor was completely to Hammer’s taste, decadent to the point of gaudiness, with thick green carpeting and plush leather seats in between marble-topped tables.
Hammer was sitting on the nearest chair, leaning back with one tree-trunk sized leg folded over the other. Standing over him, like the world’s biggest servant boy, was Sergei.
“Ah, Jeth, welcome at last,” Hammer said, waving at him. “And might I add congratulations as well. It’s not every day you turn eighteen and officially become an adult.”
Like I was ever a child, Jeth thought but didn’t say. He didn’t think he was capable of speech, for his gaze had just fallen on the two small cases sitting on the table in front of Hammer. He knew well what they contained.
“So I take it you and Renford haven’t killed each other yet?” Jeth said, keeping his fear in check. “What a shame.”
Hammer chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many differences can be set aside in order to achieve something as great as this venture.”
Jeth rolled his eyes, sarcasm the only self-defense mechanism left to him. “You’re not about to give me that crap about how the world will be so much better once you’ve brought down the ITA, are you?”
“Oh, but it will be,” Hammer said, his piggy eyes gleaming. “Even someone as young and undereducated as you must have realized the kind of power the ITA holds. Did you know they refuse to sell metatech to certain planets based entirely on race? Whole groups of people have been locked down by the ITA to prevent them from spreading their culture anywhere else in the galaxy. To keep them from infecting others with their unacceptable ideals.”
“As if you’ll be any different. All you care about is wielding that same power yourself.”
Hammer shrugged. “Perhaps. But at least I won’t use it so indiscriminately. The only people who will suffer under my rule are those that deserve it.”
Jeth almost laughed. It was so absurd. As if Hammer was fit to dole out justice and punishment. As if he would be any different from the ITA at all. No. He would be them all over again, only worse. Nobody should hold that much power. Those planets, those people should be free to govern themselves, to come and go as they please.
And so should I .
“However,” Hammer went on, “I didn’t summon you here to talk business. At least not that business. But I’m sure you’ve guessed the reason already.” His eyes flicked to the cases on the table, his expression daring Jeth to deny it.
Jeth didn’t even consider playing dumb. If this was the end of the line, he would hold on to what remained of his pride and dignity. He had a feeling there wouldn’t be much of it on the other side of what he was facing. “Oh, I know all right.”
“Yes, I thought so.” Hammer stood and bent toward the table, picking up both cases in his massive hands.
“Do I still get a choice then?” Jeth said, hoping that he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. If he was to be made Brethren instead of Guard, there was still a chance he could save Lizzie and Cora, even his mother. And there was a chance some small part of who he was would remain intact.
Hammer stared at him for a long time. A trickle of sweat slipped between Jeth’s shoulder blades and down his back, soaking the waistband of his pants.
Finally Hammer shook his head. “It pains me to say it, but no. The choice is gone. I gave you a chance to prove your loyalty once already and you failed the test. You should never have believed that Dax would keep your plan from me. He knows the true meaning of loyalty. I also don’t believe that you’ll behave any differently in the future. And, well, you’ve become a liability to my new business venture.”
Jeth’s heart hammered in his ears like rapid missile fire. The two cases had been a show, a final act of humiliation designed to give Hammer the satisfaction of winning.
Again.
The sudden, sure realization that everything he knew and cared for was about to end hit Jeth, and he almost swayed beneath the rush of terror. He wanted to cling to every precious second left to him, which he could feel slipping away like sand through his fingers.
“What do you mean, a liability?” he managed to say at last.
“Your sisters, of course. I’m quite certain that, even if you did feel some genuine loyalty to me, it wouldn’t remain in the face of what awaits them.”
Jeth held his breath, fear turning to outrage.
“Normally,” Hammer continued, “I would offer you a lifetime guarantee of their safety and well-being in exchange for your loyal service. It’s an effective bargain, as I’m sure Daxton here can attest to. Isn’t that right, Dax?”
Jeth risked a glance and saw Dax bristling beneath the outward mask of calm and compliance he wore. So, the story was true . Not that it mattered.
Then again, maybe it did matter, just not in the way Jeth had thought. Hammer was right; he should’ve realized Dax would never show any disloyalty while his brother remained in danger. Even if Dax did sympathize with Jeth’s plight, in the end he would always chose to protect his family over anyone else. Jeth couldn’t blame him for that. He would’ve done the same.
But just because he understood what Dax had done didn’t mean he was going to lie down and take this, either. If I’m gonna die anyway . . .
Jeth leaped sideways, going for the gun strapped in a holster on Dax’s hips. His fingers closed around the hilt, and he bent his knees, ready to roll and come up firing.
A foot struck him in the back. Jeth heard Sergei’s laugh as he fell. But Jeth still had the gun. He clambered to his knees, struggling to release the safety in time to fire. His body was so tired from the torture, his fingers clumsy.
Hammer kicked the gun out of Jeth’s hand with an almost lazy motion. A furious howl tore from Jeth’s throat, and he flung himself after the gun, heedless of the stinging in his knuckles or the danger posed by the giant man looming above him.
“Get him,” Hammer said.
Dax planted a knee in Jeth’s back, pinning him as Sergei came over to help. Together they hoisted Jeth to his feet. Hammer opened one of the cases, revealing the clear-colored implant. He set the other case aside.
“Put him on his knees,” Hammer said.
Sergei and Dax forced Jeth down, pulling his arms behind him so he had no choice but to lean forward.
Hammer took a step closer. “Bend his head.”
Jeth fought the hands pushing his chin toward his chest. His neck muscles screamed as he strained against the inevitable force.
“Hold him still.”
Jeth felt the point of the needle touch the back of his skull, probing for the architecture. His hair had grown enough to obscure the opening.
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