T Southwell - Prophecy

The second alien walked around her glass box, his eyes roving over her with what she interpreted as a greedy glint. He spoke to the first alien in a gargling language, and she concentrated on placing their species. The first had to be a Rentarian, a race that had left its swampy home world centuries ago and made their homes now on other worlds. The second appeared to be a Mar'Ashan, native to a hot, humid world colonised by a hostile, but advanced race that had raised them up to a civilised level, then died out from a mysterious disease.

Many blamed the Mar'Ashan for the demise of the warlike Agrebe people, but few considered it a punishable offense, since it could be seen as an act of self-defence, for the Mar'Ashan had been the Agrebe's slaves. The Mar'Ashan had taken over the Agrebe's technology, but lacked the intelligence to add to it, and some thought their society was slipping back into savagery as the machines broke down and no one could fix them. Fortunately for them, the Mar'Ashan's home world was rich in rare, valuable minerals, which allowed them to purchase new machines and hire technicians.

Slaves, too, Rayne thought as she watched her prospective buyer sizing her up. He gargled to the Rentarian again, then made a peculiar gesture and pulled what looked like a communications device from his pocket, tapping buttons. The Rentarian gargled back, weaving its neck, and turned away. As it slithered off, she glimpsed movement in the darkness, the faintest hint of something there, and her eyes were jerked towards it. The Mar'Ashan studied his device, frowning. Rayne gasped as a familiar figure stepped into the light and stopped. The Mar'Ashan became aware of the Shrike and swung around, his jaw dropping.

"You!" he said in Atlantean.

"Hello, Jamdar. Welcome to my trap," the Shrike spoke in a soft, dangerous tone.

Jamdar glanced around, but the Rentarian had vanished into the gloom. "Urquat helped you? He betrayed me?"

"I would have thought that was obvious, but then, you Mar'Ashan aren't very bright, are you?"

Jamdar held up his hands, one of which still clutched the device. "I want no trouble with you, Shrike. If you want the female, take her. I'll cancel the sale."

"No deal, Jamdar. This is my trap, and she's my bait. Haven't you even figured that out? You've been surprisingly difficult to corner, but then, you don't have to be clever to be cunning. Now you're outside your territory, with nowhere to run."

"This isn't your territory either! You're breaking the laws!"

"Laws!” Tarke snorted. “There are no laws in outlaw territory. That’s what ‘outlaw’ means, you stupid shit. Just because you and a few other idiots have come up with some rules, you think everyone abides by them? Even your cronies don’t, and who will you tell, once you're dead?"

"You can't do this!"

"Sue me."

Jamdar dropped the communications device and reached for the sleek weapon clipped to his belt. A flash of laser light illuminated the room and pierced his chest with a vicious buzz. It seemed to originate from thin air, but then Tarke lowered his arm and returned his weapon to his belt, studying his fallen foe. The Mar'Ashan had a neat hole burnt through the right side of his chest, and purple blood oozed from the wound as his skin turned white and started to flake off. Rayne swung away, fighting a wave of dizziness and nausea.

Urquat emerged from the gloom on his rippling foot. Two of his eyes examined the corpse, while the other two turned to Tarke. Urquat pulled a cone-shaped crystal from his robe with a thin, vine-like tentacle and held it to the side of his head. A halting, hollow voice spoke Atlantean in a nasal whine.

"A satisfactory outcome, although I might have profited more from your demise, Grey Shrike."

"You know you wouldn't, Urquat."

"I curse your ships. You have far too many of them. I'll still buy as many as you'll sell."

"No deal. Build your own."

"Well, in that case, kindly clean up this mess and get off my station. I've done my part, and I didn't like it. Now you do yours and make sure his death can't be blamed on me."

The Shrike said, "His body will be found on Trystate, with witnesses to swear that he was killed in a drunken brawl. His crew stole his ship, and will never be heard from again."

"You'll kill them all?"

"No, I have a buyer looking for a dozen Mar'Ashan males, one who doesn't listen to their stories."

Urquat turned all four eyes on Rayne, who leant against the glass, wondering if she was going to be able to prevent herself from vomiting.

"I'll buy the girl, if you're still interested in selling her."

"I have other plans for her."

Urquat lowered the crystal cone, turned and slithered off. Tarke approached the glass cube and touched a pane, which swung outwards. He held out a hand, but she shied away from it, stepping around him as if he had developed a bad smell. He ignored her rejection and gripped her arm, guiding her over to the Mar'Ashan's body. An energy shell engulfed all three of them before she could protest, and dispersed to reveal the interior of the shuttle bay. Tarke led her away as several of his men moved towards the corpse. Clearly they had their orders, and his part in the process was over, so nothing remained but to relax.

Rayne yanked her arm free as they entered the cream and blue suite in which they had travelled from Gergonia. Shivering, she rubbed her arms to try to stop the unwelcome trembling that had invaded her. She had just seen a man, albeit an alien and a slaver, murdered in cold blood, and his murderer stood behind her. The horror of the situation chilled her, and her churning stomach would not settle down. She jumped when a gloved hand touched her arm, swinging around to find Tarke offering her a glass of something pale pink and fizzy. He pressed it into her shaking hands, and she was unable to resist when he pushed her into a chair and sat beside her. The strong alcohol burnt her throat, and she coughed, her shivers increasing. She was horribly aware of him beside her, this man she had thought gentle, who was in fact a monster.

The Shrike stood up, removed his coat and settled it around her shoulders, enveloping her in the lingering warmth and a slight masculine scent. She shuddered, longing to throw it off, and clutched the glass, staring into its pink depths. The silence grew tense, and when he sank back down with a sigh, it seemed loud.

"You're angry with me now, is that it? Not scared, surely?"

"Why not?" she bit out through tight lips. "Don't you have to get rid of the witness too?"

"No. Tell anyone you want that I killed Jamdar. No one will believe you, because his body will be found on a distant planet, with a dozen eye witnesses to swear that he was killed in a drunken brawl. Didn't you hear me tell Urquat?"

She nodded, scowling at her drink. "I should be angry, I suppose, if I'm as safe as you say. I'm more disgusted and shocked, I guess."

"What, you didn't expect that from me? I suppose I should be flattered, but actually I'm disappointed by your lack of judgement."

"That makes two of us. I'm disappointed by your lack of moral character."

"Ah. Now we come to the crux of the matter." He rose and went to pour himself another drink. "You had started to imagine I'm some sort of outlaw prince, a sort of Robin Hood, to refer to your Earth legends, which I've been studying, by the way."

Rayne looked up at him, startled. Without the coat, he was more slender than she had thought, and her eyes flicked over him. The coat lent him bulk and breadth he did not possess, although he still cut a powerful figure. She revised her previous opinion. He was not as broad or muscular as Rawn, but possessed a more graceful build. She lowered her eyes, realising that she was staring, and sensed his amusement at her scrutiny. He wandered back and settled beside her again.