Immaculate Deception -- Chapter 8: Bitter Resolution

     Lt. Larell stepped carefully out of her transport. Slinging her jump bag over her shoulder she nodded to the crew Tech and walked slowly from the docking bay. Her heart was heavy as she made her way first to her quarter to drop off her things, then to the office of her new LDO, Tauvo Crais.

  

     She had never met Crais’ brother, but heard much talk of him. The meeting was merely perfunctory. 

      Some unwanted task before she advised Crais of her return. What would she tell him about their daughter’s birth? How would he react? It would be a bitter pill to swallow if he sloughed her off as he did all this other sexual conquests. She thought of Teeg’s tortured longing. Gripped by a deep sense of emptiness, she dreaded the encounter to the bottom of her soul.

     As she entered the office a darkly handsome young man ran into her. He smiled brightly and helped steady her with both hands.

     “My apologies, lovely lady.” He said smartly. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

     “I am Lt. Darinta Larell.” She replied stiffly.

     “Bialar has told me about you.” he said politely motioning her into his office. “How did the birthing go?”

     She averted her gaze and swallowed hard.

     “Your. . .brother. . .Captain Crais has spoken of you often.” She replied self-consciously, not answering his question. Could this actually be the long-awaited younger brother? The differences were as stark as night and day.

      “All good I trust.” He laughed softly.

     “Very good.” She replied, an incredulous smile on her own face. His gentle kindness was infectious.

      “I was just about to join him for dinner,” Tauvo said extending a hand to her. “I’m certain he wouldn’t mind your charming company. It could only enhance the experience.”

      “I really shouldn’t, sir.” She said formally.

     “None of that!” he smiled. “I insist.”

     Lt. Larell nearly recoiled at the thought of seeing Crais again with his brother present but said nothing. She rose without taking his hand and followed him. As they made their way through the crowded, winding corridors, he talked incessantly about his plans for the prowler squadrons, his experiences aboard his last command carrier and his brother. Bialar this. Bialar that. It was obvious the younger Crais idolized his brother.

     As she listen to his animated dialog it occurred to her that she had probably chosen the wrong brother. This idea was driven home like a knife through her heart as they entered Crais’ quarters together. The expression on his face upon seeing her was frosty at best. Disdain lurked behind those dark eyes.

     “Look who just arrived, my brother.” Tauvo fairly crowed. “I literally ran into her as she was reporting in and invited her to join us for dinner.”

     “That would not be appropriate,” Crais said flatly.

  

     “Bialar,” Tauvo began only to be interrupted by the elder.

     “Officer Crais,” he snapped. “Please give us this room alone for a few microts.”

     Tauvo’s smile wilted as his looked at his brother with hurt and disapproval. He clicked his heels together smartly, bowed and left.

     “I’m sorry, Captain,” she explained, eyes cast downward. “He was insistent.”

     “The birthing?” Crais ventured noting her flattened abdomen. “It was far too early.”

     She breathed and looked at him with eyes bright with pain.

     “The child. . .um. . .our daughter,” she stammered then fell silent.

     “Spit it out, for frell’s sake!” he snapped harshly.

     “She was stillborn.” She said simply.

     Crais sat silently staring at her for many long microts.

     “You are dismissed, Lt. Larell,” he said at last returning his attention to the transparencies on his desk.

     “Bialar?” she began.

     “Lt. Larell,” his tone sent a jolt of pure terror down her spine. “You are dismissed.”

     The one word spoke an entire history of meaning. She no longer existed to him, that much was obvious. He would not willingly look on her or speak to her again. She was being banished from his favor. Sparing him one final hard glance, she spun on her heel and set out for her quarters. It was passed time to return to what Peacekeeper officers did best: survive alone.

** ** ** ** **

     EL-Vashti saw Khetyr approaching on the monitor screen and shuddered. He spoke briefly with her aide in the outer office before being admitted. She tried not to look at his face, the wide hazel eyes, bow-shaped lips and mild shadow of a beard. If she looked at him, seeing him as the beloved companion of the last two cycles she would not seek the answers she so desperately needed.

     “Lil,” he said softly, standing in front of her desk. “How are you? I’ve been worried sick. The main registrar posted that you’d arrived home two days ago.”

     “I’m in perfect health according to Crais’ physician,” she replied harshly. “Yes, I did come back 48 arns ago. I needed time to myself, however. I needed to think things through.”

     He winced and bit his lip. “I’ve missed you.”

     “Have you now?”

     “Lil,” he sigh then the words began to pour forth in a rush. “Crais had a monitoring device secreted in my uniform. He had records of everything. Everything we did. Everything we said. He could have had us all executed with the evidence on those recordings. He had me captured by those commandos of his and brought to him in restraints. He said that if I cooperated, if I gave you the conception enhancer and said nothing he would let us all go unscathed.”

     “Unscathed!” EL-Vashti hissed, slamming her palm down hard on the top of her desk. She pointed to her abdomen. “Is this unscathed?”

     “Lil, he was going to kill you,” Khetyr rebutted.

     “Don’t be an idiot, Jinn!” she shouted. “He wanted to sire this child on me. He would never have killed me.”

     “You can’t know that,” he yelled back. “You weren’t there when he confronted me.”

     “I didn’t need to be,” she snapped bitterly. “I have had intimate experience with what that freller is capable of. Getting this child for his precious House and humiliating me utterly was his plan you fool. He wouldn’t have had me killed if I destroyed his entire command carrier armada and herd of Leviathans!”

     Khetyr gulped and frowned at her.

     “I’m sorry, Lil,” he said quietly. “Please let me make amends.”

     “You’re sorry?” she mocked. “An amends. You could never compensate me for what I’ve been through at his hands.”

     “Don’t be so certain,” he smiled wildly. “I’ve done something to hurt him, to regain your honor. Something even he wouldn’t have thought to do.”

      “What are you babbling about?”

     “Lt. Larell,” Khetyr said quietly, leaning across her desk. “The sole survivor of the traitor Velorek’s Team. She was promoted to leader of the Mhultaan’s top Science Section the day Velorek was arrested. She was Crais’ lover. Did you know that? I turned it over and over in my mind after I found it out. And she was pregnant, as well. By Crais! Not by accident. Not a genetic pairing. They chose to procreate!”

     “Is there a plot to this fairy tale?” EL-Vashti scoffed.

     “I knew you would want to avenge what Crais did to you,” he smiled as he came around the desk to kneel beside her. He took her hands in his and continued, “And I knew you would blame me when he told you the truth about how it happened. So. . .I acted for you.”

     “What do you mean?” EL-Vashti asked, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. He wasn’t behaving normally. His eyes were feral, his lips wet with spittle.

     “I killed it,” he whispered with a little laugh.

     “What?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat.

     “I poisoned Lt. Larell’s fetus. It was stillborn.” He bragged shaking her hands gleefully. “I delivered it myself—ever the caring physician—so that neither of them would ever suspect from where the killing blow fell.”

     He was insane, she was certain of it. No Peacekeeper would harm an unborn child. The penalty was slow torture and an even slower death. She could not, would not be a party to this. Her mind raced over the alternatives as she tried to extricate herself from his grasp.

     “Lil, no!” he pleaded, holding on tighter. “Say you forgive me.”

Her resolve was set. She looked down at him, her face a gentle, loving mask. 

     “Of course I forgive you, Jinn.” She purred as she slipped her arms around him.

     “After everything we’ve been through together, I knew you would.” He replied burying his face in her neck.

     “How could you ever doubt it?” she smiled coldly as she saw their reflection in the shiny surface of her office walls.

** ** ** ** **

     The wind tugged fitfully at her great coat as EL-Vashti crossed IAD Square heading toward the Visiting Officers’ Quarters. Tendrils of her long hair were pulling loose from her tight queue and sticking to her face. Sleet was beginning to fall and the temperature was dropping fast. The wet season was settling in with a vengeance on Khorlan VII. In a matter of arns, there would be a thick coating of ice on everything not protected from the elements.

      She paused for a several microts looking up into the freezing rain to clear her head. There would be no turning back from this. It was a commitment that would last to the death. Were she to ever back down, there would be nowhere to hide from her unspeakable fate. Closing her eyes she inserted her ident-chip into the panel beside the main entrance. It emitted a series of beeps and the door in front of her slid aside.

     She removed her small, black garrison cap and gloves, tucking them into the belt of her great coat. She ignored the concierge at the main desk, slipping down a side corridor. Finding the billet number she was searching for, she pressed the chime beside the door only once. Within a microt it slid aside. It was obvious she was expected.

     “Do come in, dear.” Scorpius’ voice called to her out of the darkness. He did so prefer the dark. “The weather has turned quite vicious outside has it not? Please, make yourself comfortable and enjoy a steaming razlak.”

     “Spare me your tender ministrations, Scorpius,” she said bitterly.

     “You do not appreciate being treated with tenderness, my dear?” he teased as he elevated the illumination in the room. He motioned her toward a lounger beside him.

     Niem appeared from an alcove, placing a hot cup of razlak into her frigid hand. She disappeared just as quickly.

     “He killed a fetus,” she said quietly looking him in the eyes for the very first time. She was beyond repulsion or fear of irreversible contamination. She was beyond caring.

     “What?” Scorpius asked cocking his head to return her gaze.

     “Khetyr,” she explained after taking a long drag of the potent beverage. “He found out one of Crais’ creatures, Larell, was pregnant by him. . .and he poisoned the fetus causing it to be stillborn.”

     “Ghastly,” Scorpius sighed. “So now you know where your allegiances do and do not lie.”

     “With great trepidation. . .yes.” she whispered.

     “Glorious,” he smiled patting her knee affectionately. “We will begin immediately.”

     “You’re going to kill Crais, Pollivar and Khetyr?” she asked closing her eyes and finishing the razlak. She could feel it already going to her head.

     “Crais will prove to be a ticklish problem,” he admitted. “However, Pollivar and Khetyr will not live to see another sunrise.”

     “I want to be there when Khetyr dies,” she said, her voice a monotone. “I want him to know from where the blade fell.”

     “Easily arranged,” Scorpius replied. “And do you wish it to be a lingering, painful death or quick and merciful.”

     “I want him to experience more terror than he ever thought imaginable,” she whispered icily.

     “As you wish.” He said as he stretched his long, spindly legs out in front of his lounger. “Come to my ship in four arns. Everything will be arranged.”

** ** ** ** **

     Magistrate Tolan Pollivar raised the collar of his uniform great coat more snuggly about his neck. He positioned his garrison cap on his bald head and stepped out into the frigid night air. He normally enjoyed the brisk walk to his quarters, but the unforgiving wind that whipped across IAD Square made that impossible this night. He made his way as quickly as the icy sidewalk would permit, nearly losing his balance several times.

     

      He rounded the corner near his billet block and noticed footfalls behind him. Faint and nearly drowned out by the howling wind, but still he knew someone was following him. He glanced briefly over his shoulder and saw the indistinct figure of a woman a distance behind him. Her cloak rippled in the wind as she turned down an adjacent street.

      He inserted his ident-chip into the level riser panel and waited for it to arrive. He rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet to keep warm in the relentless gale. The doors opened and he stepped quickly inside. As he punched in his billet code a stinging tightness wrapped around his neck. A monofilament garrote was rapidly cutting off his oxygen. He struggled against his unseen attacker but was rapidly losing consciousness. His feet were slipping and sliding beneath him as the level riser shot upward.

     He fumbled with desperate fingers for the face of his assailant, but could not gain a grasp. Finally, as the level riser reached the top of his billet block, it stopped with a jolt. He lost his footing and hung by his full weight from the garrote. As he fought to remain conscious he felt himself begin dragged out of the riser and into a corridor. It was utter blackness around them. He could not be certain if it was his brain dying or that all lights had been extinguished prior to this attack.

     He heard the whine of the level riser as it reversed itself and fell rapidly downward. As the last of his life drained away he sensed he was falling forward and air rushing up to meet him. His heart burst as he landed atop the level rise seventy-eight floors below.

     From far above, Niem looked down at her handiwork. No one would have survived that fall, she thought silently. The non-marking garrote would leave no evidence, Scorpius assured her. It would be investigated and the case closed on a tragic accident.

** ** ** ** **

     Khetyr tumbled out of bed naked and stunned at the sound of commando boots in his bedchamber. Before he could cry out a rifle butt smashed into his face. He shrieked and teeth fell from his bloody mouth. Survival instinct the only thing left in him beyond terror, he scrambled along the floor like an animal. Getting to his feet in the corridor of his billet block, he began to run faster than he ever had before in his life.

     The commandos were behind him as he escaped out into the night. His bare feet connected with the ice-covered pavement and he went down hard. Crying, gasping for breath and choking on his own blood, Khetyr struggled to his feet and ran again. He made it to the corner and down a narrow street before he felt the sharp stab in the nape of his neck. An anesthine dart had been shot there and was now spreading its drug through his cerebrospinal fluid and brain. He would have only microts to find a place to hide before he lost consciousness.

     “Lil,” he cried out as he dove behind a waste receptacle. His skin stuck instantly to the wet ice on the ground and he found himself trapped. Commando boots rang out in the night as the came closer to his pathetic hiding place. “Lil.”

** ** ** ** **

     When he awoke, Khetyr found himself completely immobilized. He fought to free himself only to have water splash up into his face. He choked and coughed.

    “Good, you’re awake,” EL-Vashti said softly.

     “Lil, what’s happening?” he yelled fighting again only to be rewarded with another mouthful of water.

     “An amends, my love.” She answered.

     “What!” he shrieked.

     “I would remain still if I were you,” said another voice, frightening even in its gentleness. “You will live far longer if you remain perfectly still.”

     “Lil, what is happening? Why are you doing this?” he shouted then swallowed more water.

     “My colleague, Scorpius, devised this manner of death for you, Jinn.” El-Vashti explained coming closer to the isolation tank. “I must admit it is truly the most unique manner of death I’ve ever seen.”

     “Lil, stop this now!” Khetyr pleaded. “Please, release me from this thing.”

    “It’s quiet simplistic, really.” She went on as though she had not heard him. “In case you have not figured it out, you are wrapped in a stasis cocoon. The brilliant part of course is that it has been manipulated to leave your face exposed.

“As anyone knows, a stasis cocoon has a great deal of buoyancy, but it will not float forever. They have this horrible flaw of gradually absorbing liquids, which is why a crash landing on a water planet is always dreadful when you have a shipload of patients in stasis. But, you know that right, my love?

     “At any rate, my colleague came up with the notion of putting your cocoon into an isolation tank filled with just enough water to saturate it and still leave a high enough level to allow you to drown. . .ever so slowly. A just reward for your betrayal, I would say.” She explained.

     “Most just, Magistrate EL-Vashti.” Scorpius said as he came to stand behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders.

     “Of course it can never repay for the life of the fetus you murdered, you bastard!” she hissed with finality.

     Scorpius switched off the comm in the stasis cocoon and escorted EL-Vashti out of the chamber, his arm lightly draped around her shoulders.

     What little light in the isolation tank faded to black and Khetyr began to scream. His own breathing was loud in his ears and water was splashing up his nose and into his mouth. The air in the tank began to turn bad quickly and he sensed the cocoon dropping lower in the water. Before long it was above his mouth and tickling icily at his nostrils.

     Images of the entire debacle with Crais flashed through his mind. He remembered his words of warning to EL-Vashti the day they departed for their journey to the Mhultaan.

“I’ve heard of Bialar Crais. He’s very powerful and popular with the Admiralty and High Command. So is Scorpius. Prominent scientist with the SRD and all that dren. How the yotz do you think he’s tolerated by High Command otherwise? Talk about irreversible contamination! This has the probability of landing us all on the torture table.”

     He saw her face, soft and white contorted in ecstasy beneath him; glowing with a cruel smile as she worked. He did not flinch as the water reached his nostrils. Instead he cried out her name. He then breathed in sharply through his mouth allowing his lungs to fill with water.