Zero's Return (41 page)

“Miserable Voran
skulker!” Shael screamed, lunging back.  He struck again, this time aiming a
furious fist at the Voran’s head—and again ended up on his back, staring up at
his opponent, his arm feeling as if it had been wrenched out of its socket. 
This time, the Voran raised a hairy brow and spoke the filth of homeland.

“You can’t beat
me, Shael,” the Voran said softly.  “I’m too good at this.”

Insinuating, of
course, that Shael, the greatest warrior of Welu, was not.  He screamed his
fury and lunged to his coils, this time trying to wrap his body around the
Voran’s and bring him to the ground.

The Voran simply
pivoted and threw Shael onto his back in the grass once more, knocking the wind
from his chest.

“Do you
concede?” Shael’s opponent demanded.

Concede
? 
He
?  Prince of
Welu
?  Shael struggled to right himself, gasping
air back into his lungs.  “Never!  I will bury my tek in your
eye
for
that, Voran!”

The Voran
sighed—
sighed
—and rolled his eyes.  “Twelve-A, can you do something,
here?  I don’t want to hurt her.”

It took Shael a
moment of shock to realize that the Voran had been talking about
him
,
and that he had called Shael a tekless brooder.  A
female
.  One who had
willingly abandoned his tek to serve as his conqueror’s personal spawn
repository.

Shael was so
enraged he sputtered.  Seeing his fury, the Voran blinked at him.  “Hey now. 
That’s not what I meant.  Twelve-A, tell her that’s not what I meant.”  At
Shael’s indignant cry, the Voran caught himself.  “Shit.  I mean…  Please tell
the
Welu
that’s not what I meant.  I
really
don’t want to hurt
her—
him
!  I don’t want to hurt him!”

As if the
skulking Dhasha-courter had forgotten whether or not he had a tek.

That’s not
what he meant,
Twelve-A said. 
He just doesn’t want to hurt you.

Suggesting the
victory was already his!  Unable to speak through his rage, Shael got up and
lunged at the Voran, ready to kill.

He ended up on
his back again.  And again.  And again.

No matter how
many times he attacked, no matter how many different ways he struck or screamed
his battlecry, Shael was driven to the ground with seemingly no effort at all
on the Voran’s part…

#

“Uh, a little assistance
here?” Joe asked, as the tiny woman straight-arm slapped his shoulder with a
feral scream.

Throwing her
is not helping,
Twelve-A noted.

“Yes,
obviously
,”
Joe said, once again shielding his nuts and tossing the woman onto her back in
the grass for the attempt.  “Can’t you calm her down?”

I think the
only thing that will calm her down is if you lose,
Twelve-A said.

Shael got back
to her feet, green eyes flashing in fury. 

“Well, I’m not
gonna lose,” Joe said, eying her nervously.  “With Jreet, losing is dying.” 

With an enraged
roar, the woman ran up to him and slapped her body around him like she was
trying to get an extra-tight pre-sex cuddle.

“
Please
do something,” Joe groaned, prying her slowly from his body as she howled and
tried repeatedly to bite his side.  “Ow, burn, ow!”  He threw her off him again
and took a step back, wincing down at his throbbing ribcage.  “Come
on
,
man.  This isn’t funny.”  He glanced at the telepath, who was sitting
cross-legged on a rock nearby, watching the show.

Apparently,
Twelve-A found it very funny indeed.  Grinning, the minder said,
Maybe you
could tell her she’s female again.  That seemed to help the last three times.

“Or
you
could do it,” Joe growled, yanking her over his shoulder to flop her back to
the grass when she came at him again.  “
Somebody’s
gotta do it.  Maybe
that would help her get over her Jreet kick.” 

Twelve-A
snorted. 
I’m not insane.

“But she
likes
you,” Joe retorted.

Twelve-A gave
the woman a little frown. 
She was willing to let me get eaten by a kreenit.

“That’s because
she’s been
brainwashed
,” Joe growled, shielding his nuts as she kicked
at them with her bare feet again.  “So by the unlovable Jreet gods,
un
-brainwash
her!  I know you can do it.”

I don’t
change people unless they give me permission,
Twelve-A said.  Then, at
Joe’s irritated look, the minder added pointedly,
Or if they’re dangerous
Congie heroes who have killed lots of people.

Joe narrowed his
eyes.  “Well, she’s definitely dangerous,” he said, enduring another
straight-armed slap to his chest, complete with thin, feminine
shee-whomph
Jreet battlecry, carried in the high-pitched voice of a woman’s scream.

Really?
Twelve-A asked, crossing his skinny arms over his skinny chest.  As the woman
batted at Joe’s chest and sides, he said through a smirk,
I don’t see how.

Joe grabbed his
attacker by her forehead and held her at arm’s length as he turned to face the
telepath.  “
Look
!” he cried, as she shrieked and slapped ineffectually
at his arm, “She can pop people’s heads like karwiq bulbs.  Do you really want
that?!”

You convinced
her that hand-to-hand combat was the best way to beat you,
Twelve-A said,
sounding amused. 
I don’t think she’d use her mindspace right now if her
life depended on it.

“I
really
don’t want to have to hurt her,” Joe said, as she started windmilling at his
elbow.  “Just give me a little help, okay?”

Twelve-A
grimaced. 
If I put her to sleep, she will just be angry at
me
when
she wakes up.  I’d rather she wasn’t angry at me.

“I won’t tell
her you did it,” Joe said, as the woman screamed and started gnashing her teeth
at the air.  “Pinkie-swear.”

Twelve-A gave
him a long look, his blue eyes piercing as he appeared to consider, then said,
I
want access.

Joe paused in
making sure she couldn’t latch her teeth on a finger and blinked.  “What?”

To your
memories,
Twelve-A insisted.
  If I help you, I want permission to see
inside.

Because, Joe
realized, Joe had threatened to shoot him if he dug around again without
permission.  And, considering Joe’s history, he probably actually had a pretty
good chance of putting a round in the telepath’s brainpan before the telepath
could figure it out and stop him.  Realizing he was being offered another
trade, Joe’s heart gave a startled thump, and his guts roiled with unease.  “No
way,” Joe growled.  “No sooting way.  My mind is
mine
.  You start
digging and the next thing you’ll be seeing is the inside of a plasma pistol.”

Twelve-A
shrugged. 
You want help calming Shael.  I want to be able to look.

“Burn that!” Joe
snapped.   The woman had freed herself and was even then rubbing her perky
breasts across his chest, demanding to know how it felt to dance on her tek.

Twelve-A took a
deep breath, then sighed, stood, and wandered off, leaving Joe to fight his
battle with the furious five-dig woman alone.

#

Shael fought
valiantly, throwing everything he had into destroying his opponent, but the
Voran continued to keep him from getting the upper hand.  It was a battle that
the bards would sing about for ages, witnessed by dozens of wide-eyed
spectators who were even then stunned at the prowess of the two titans clashing
before them.

Finally, after
more than thirty attempts, his body bruised and aching, his lip, eyes, and
fists swollen, his back and ass and coils throbbing, Shael dragged himself to a
seated position and blinked up at the still-standing Voran.  The Voran, for his
part, looked precisely as winded as he had been before they started their
fight.  In other words, he was
completely unaffected
.

In horror, Shael
demanded of the telepath,
Why have I not heard of this warrior before?  Did
he emerge after I went to Earth?

Twelve-A, who
had wandered off to eat the disgusting greenery with the others, hesitated. 
He’s
actually rather well known, amongst his kind.

Shael froze,
icicles splintering through his veins.  There was only one noteworthy Voran. 
Beda ga Vora.  The Voran
prince
.

That’s not
exactly—
Twelve-A began.

“How
dare
you lie to me and feed me your swill, Voran,” Shael snapped.  “I’ve fought
Dhasha
with more honor than you!”

“Then you
surrender?” Beda ga Vora demanded, still looking calm.  Surrender…to a
Voran
.
 There could be only one reason he asked for such.  He wanted a
trophy
. 
Something he could take back to Vora with him and parade before all the other
Voran warriors, tekless and fat with hatchlings.

“I will
never
lose my tek to you!” Shael shrieked, lunging from his coils.  “I’d rather drown
in a pit of Dhasha flake than take your spawn!”

Beda ga Vora
gave a startled jerk and grunted.  “No, I’m just asking if you give up.”

Shael grabbed a
stick and hurled it at Beda, catching him across the chest.  “You’ll have to
kill me, Voran!  I will
never
surrender. 
Never
!”

And, Shael knew,
judging by the ease with which Beda had thrown him around, killing him would
not be difficult.  The Voran sighed and brushed the stick to the ground, then
started towards Shael.  Seeing his big, powerful body move towards him, Shael’s
heart started to hammer painfully, knowing his end was near.  He said a prayer
to the Sisters that they show him the path through the ninety hells quickly,
and that he meet his ancestors along the way.

The Voran walked
over and, as he reached down, Shael humiliatingly squeezed his eyes shut, an
instinctive terror worming up out of his guts despite his attempts to control
it.

When no blow
came, Shael opened one eye, then another.

“I’m exhausted,”
Beda ga Vora said, from above him.  His hand was held out towards him, palm up
and open.  “You fought well.  I say we put off this battle for another day,
after we’ve both had a chance to recuperate.  That is, if you will allow me an
armistice?”  When Shael just stared up at him stupidly, the Voran went on, “We
could
keep fighting, but I believe we’ve frightened the bystanders enough with our
struggle…  Why worry the weaklings any more than necessary?  We can certainly
finish this later, in private.  What do you say?”  He was offering Shael his
hand, a hairy brow raised in question.

The Voran
was…offering a
truce
?  And not only that, but an offer to finish in
private,
so his shame was not witnessed by the masses.  Shael was so flabbergasted
that he couldn’t do anything other than stare at the Voran’s callused hand. 
Did Beda not realize that he had been heartbeats from
winning
their
match?  He had seemed so poised and collected throughout.  Had his cool
demeanor all been an
act
?  Shael’s heart began to hammer, realizing he
was being given a reprieve by the Sisters themselves.

Which left him
with a dilemma.  Morally, he should alert his opponent that he had already won
the match, that Shael had been beaten.  And yet,
personally
, Shael
wanted a few extra rotations to study his adversary, to watch his movements so
he could utterly annihilate this cocky, arrogant skulker when the time came.

As Shael
struggled with that, Beda ga Vora said, “Of course, if you desire, we can drag
this out another few hours until one of us succumbs to our wounds, but as of
right now, I don’t see a clear winner.  I think we need to go home and sharpen
our teks for a second round.”

Oh, the hairy,
simple-minded
furg
, Shael thought, delighted.
 
Raising his head
in pride, Shael said, “I, Shael ga Welu, prince of Welu and war leader of all
associated clans, accept your weakling’s plea for mercy, Voran,” he said.  “We
shall resume this later, once you’re better prepared.”  He pushed himself to
his coils, ignoring Beda ga Vora’s proffered hand.

“If you want,”
Beda ga Vora said, “next time we fight, you can battle my war-mind.  It
is
my greatest weakness.”

Shael snorted. 
“I will not succumb to your tricks, Voran.  I shall beat you fairly or not at
all.  The bards
will
sing of my victory.”  Then Shael turned and stalked
off, leaving the Voran to lick his wounds and dread the day Shael ga Welu would
be back to finish him off.

CHAPTER 16 – Mind Games

Rat closed her eyes,
listening to the silence.

Over the last
twenty-eight daylight cycles, she had come to the conclusion that she was not
going to survive on her species’ home planet.  At least not alone. 

Her body was weakening by
the day.  She, too, had started looting the abandoned homes, only to find
wrecked cabinets, emptied cans, and rancid refrigerators. 

And corpses.  Corpses
everywhere.  The strong, it seemed, were having no qualms with killing the
weak.  The percentage doing the pillaging and murdering was very small,
relative to the original population of Earth, but it was the population that was
surviving, killing off its competition in some of the most disgusting,
despicable ways that Rat had ever seen.  The lined-up corpses, shot in the back
of the head, reminded her of her time fighting the Huouyt on Eeloir.  The
cruelties haunted her dreams.  She had found the remains of one man with a
railroad spike driven through both his hands, pinning him to the side of his
house.  His wife had been at his feet, her pants down and her throat slit. 
Their three little kids had been drowned in their swimming pool out back.