Tara The Great [Nuworld 2] (16 page)

realizing he’d just been asked a question.

“Sir, we’ve lost their signal, we have.” Torgo straightened in his chair.

“What do you mean, we’ve lost their signal?”

“I have an open transmission with their computer,” Torgo began to explain,

pointing to the monitor. “I guess I should say I had an open transmission. About fifteen

minutes ago, it disappeared, it did.”

“It disappeared?” Patha crossed his arms and looked stern. “How does something

just disappear?”

Torgo wondered what he had done wrong. “Sir, it’s almost as if their computer is

no longer there, I’d say.”

Patha studied the screen. “Do we have any lock on the trailer?”

Torgo clicked through several screens, then plucked at the keys. “We did, but it too

seems to have disappeared, it has.”

“What about Tara or Darius, do we have any kind of lock on them?”

Again, Torgo worked the computer. When the appropriate screen came up he

pulled back his hands. Then they froze in midair.

He couldn’t utter the words. He didn’t have to.

His worse nightmare was something happening to his brother. The last thing he

ever wanted was to be Lord of Gothman. His papa and his brother were ruthless

leaders. They had the ability to quit loving someone if they felt that person would

endanger Gothman or their rule. A quality Torgo didn’t possess and, in fact, found

abhorrent.

The computer showed Tara’s transmission, but the transmission for Darius had

been terminated.

“Where did you put the monitoring devices?”

“I put them on their, uh,” Torgo hesitated, trying to remember. His mind wasn’t

clear. Nothing could happen to his brother. His brother was undefeatable. He’d proven

that over and over again. “There is one under each of the seats on their bikes, there is.”

“Why not their clothes?”

“They were going to change clothes, they were,” The boy spoke quickly, heat rising

to his face. “I didn’t bring enough tracking devices with me when you said we had to

prepare for their departure.”

“Contact the scouts and determine if they’ve arrived at the rendezvous point.”

Torgo breathed deeply as he fought to bury the panic creeping through him at the

thought of his brother being dead. Darius wasn’t dead. Torgo breathed out slowly.

Something had happened, and Darius probably would be angry with him for not being

more thorough with his work. He mentally lashed himself for not performing better.

“I’ve given you an order,” Patha barked. “If you can’t do the job, I’ll replace you.”

Torgo jumped and began clicking on the appropriate screen. “The scouts haven’t

reached their destination.” Torgo turned and looked up at Patha. His face was full of

fear. “Patha, I’m—”

“Save it,” Patha said.

He began pacing in the small room, and Torgo watched him. Patha was silent for a

few moments, and Torgo racked his brain, trying to think of something constructive to

say to the old man. He couldn’t, so he remained silent.

“I want Gothman and the Blood Circle Clan put on alert.” Patha broke the silence,

but continued to pace.

Torgo watched him, assuming there was more.

“Gear up the armies and have them ready.” Again, Patha paced. Then he pointed

his finger at Torgo. “Something is very wrong here. I don’t feel that Darius is dead. But

why would his bike get destroyed? Something is definitely wrong.”

Patha finally stopped pacing and turned Torgo around in his chair, so he faced the

computer once again, and the older man gripped the back of the chair. “Tell those

scouts to get to the rendezvous point as quickly as possible. Then let’s send an army of

about fifty out there, as well. Just in case.”

Patha waved a hand at the two other computers on the table next to Torgo. They

were turned off. “Bring some assistants in here, too. I want open communication with

everyone effective immediately. Where’s Syra?” Patha acted as if he’d noticed for the

first time that she wasn’t in her customary position right next to Torgo.

“She left to get something to eat. She’ll be back any minute, she will.”

“Okay. Keep me posted.” Finally, Patha left the room.

Torgo exhaled. He stared at the door for a minute, then turned his head back to the

computer. His mind drifted to Syra. He had no idea where that girl was at the moment.

She’d probably gotten herself something to eat while she’d been gone. It wasn’t

completely a lie. But he knew she hadn’t left for that reason.

Torgo thought about the conversation he and Syra had right before she stormed out

of the computer room. The girl had left in a rage. Usually when he worked alone with

Syra on the computers, he really enjoyed their time together. But today she had made

him so angry, he had wanted to shake sense into her.

They had started talking about the Runner pregnancy prevention drug. Torgo

didn’t want a drug coming between their lovemaking. Why couldn’t she see that? He’d

tried to explain that the drug made their sex seem cheap. No, he didn’t want a baby.

Well, not yet. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all.

She’d challenged him. Ways existed to prevent becoming pregnant. Gothman ways.

Herbs. Tonics. This Runner medicine prevented her body from making what would be

part of a baby if he added his seed. He just thought it was wrong. And Syra didn’t

understand.

They were from two different races. Two different cultures. He worried sometimes

this unchangeable fact might be their ultimate downfall. He suspected she wouldn’t be

back anytime soon. Although he admitted to himself, he had hoped she’d be back by

now.

Torgo contacted two other Runners to report to his computer room. Of course, he

tried to contact Syra. When she didn’t answer, he tried again. Same thing…no response.

So he told her that Patha had ordered a military alert and she needed to come back,

then clicked off his comm. He could only hope she would listen. Hardheaded girl.

Patha returned less than an hour later dressed in full Runner garb, well armed with

lasers clipped to his belt on either hip. “Have all military units remain in full contact,

and I want all clan members and townspeople to report in. Program the computer to

confirm as they do. All Gothman and Runners must identify themselves with their login

numbers. We’ve had several people reported missing today. The computer can tell us

who they are.” Patha paused. “I don’t want panic to set in.”

Patha’s eyes swept over the two Runners sitting at the other computers. “Syra

hasn’t come back?”

“No, sir.” Torgo tried not to show concern. “She’ll be back soon.”

Patha eyed Torgo, then wrapped his comm around his ear before flipping it on.

“Syra.”

Torgo watched intently as Patha stood with a blank gaze waiting for a response.

There wasn’t one.

Patha didn’t look at Torgo. “Balbo.”

This time there was a quick response.

“Do you know where your daughter is?”

Brief silence.

“No, she isn’t here.”

Another pause.

“Find her. She’s not reporting in.” Patha shut off his comm. “I want everyone to

have a comm device on them at all times so the computer can track them. Tell me as

soon as it’s done.” With that, he left the room.

Torgo began the program that would start the count. “I need you to notify all unit

leaders and inform them of Patha’s instructions,” he said to the Runner next to him.

“Sure thing.” The young man who nodded was just a few winters older than Torgo.

“Why wouldn’t Syra answer her comm?” the other Runner mused.

Torgo glared at him, and the Runner returned his attention to his monitor. But

Torgo couldn’t focus on his work.

Syra should have answered when Patha contacted her. She was bullheaded, but she

respected authority.

Something was definitely wrong.

* * * * *

Darius and Tara looked back toward the burning mountain and watched as

multitudes of black objects descended the mountainside and headed toward them. In

the darkness, the objects didn’t really look like bikes, but they weren’t jeeps, either.

Neither of them felt the need to sit there and watch these people move closer. The

exodus didn’t appear to be a rescue party.

Darius took off so quickly Tara grabbed him, holding on tightly. She almost

screamed from pain as her body slammed back, but her arms remained wrapped

around her claim’s torso.

He covered her hands with one of his and held on to her.

She would have pushed away his hand, but she didn’t dare move the position of

her own for fear of losing her balance. His grasp remained steady, ensuring her safety,

whether she cared to admit it or not.

They drove at high speed across the flat, high land in the darkness. Occasionally,

Darius would turn and look behind them, but Tara didn’t move her head. She kept it

down, her chin almost resting on his shoulder blade. Her body was a wave of solid

pain.

“Excellent,” Darius muttered, and slowed the bike drastically as Tara focused her

eyes in the dark. They’d come to a large formation protruding from the ground. Several

large rocks, taller than any man, stood straight and proud, surrounded by the prairie

grass. The rocks resembled four fingers, possibly the fingers of a god, sticking up

through the ground.

On either side of the rock formation were Gothman warriors. Tara counted ten. The

Gothman pulled their weapons as the two approached on Tara’s motorcycle.

“Pay heed to the Lord of Gothman,” Darius yelled into the darkness, causing a stir

among the warriors.

One of the men slowly pulled his bike forward and greeted them. “To be sure, my

lord.” He stopped his bike next to the pair.

“Right good to see you, my lord, it is,” another gruff voice broke through the

darkness.

“I’d say the same, but I do wish there were more of you, I do.” Darius accelerated

until he could stop Tara’s bike among the group of men. “I need a comm.”