TEASER
“Lana,” a voice hissed in the darkness. “Wake up!”
“Go ‘way,” she muttered, pulling her pillow over her head. This was the first time she had had an opportunity to sleep in almost a week, and she was not about to waste it. She entertained the notion of breaking the neck of whoever had disturbed her until he spoke again.
“They’re ready for you,” Neko whispered.
Lana shot into a sitting position, staring at him with wide eyes. “They are?” she whispered, swallowing hard.
Her head was swimming and her heart was pounding in her chest as if she had just run a marathon under heavy-grav, low-oxygen conditions. At Neko’s slow nod, she rose, hurrying to her closet and pulling out a suit. She pulled it on quickly, aware that Neko was leering at her nude form but not particularly caring. He was still too useful to her for her to be anything but tolerant of his lecherous tendencies, especially as he had the good sense to restrain them where she was concerned.
Ignoring him, she stepped past him to scrutinize herself in the room’s full-length mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy with fatigue, but her suit was immaculate, not a crease out of place. She pulled a brush quickly through her hair, not paying attention as it caught painfully in the tangles. She refused to be anything other than impeccably attired on this occasion, but she did not want to waste any time either.
It was the work of a few moments to pull her hair back into a neat twist and step into a pair of flats. Giving herself a last look, she nodded sharply and gestured for Neko to precede her.
She followed close on his heels, forcing herself to focus on anything but the possibility that all of her work over the past year might have been for nothing. Neko’s clothes were rumpled and he reeked of Jerallan’s perfume. Mara, waiting for them in the car, was dressed with more care, but her hair was mussed and her eyes were heavy with sleep. Lana allowed herself to be irritated by these minor observations because it diverted her mind from more pressing concerns.
“Was your sleep restful?” Mara asked tentatively as the chauffer drove them to the facility where the tunnel was housed.
“It was, dear. All fifteen minutes of it,” Lana answered without sarcasm, turning her head and looking out the window.
“Neko, give the Doctor something to wake her up,” Mara directed quietly.
When he opened his mouth to protest, Lana turned her head and fixed him with an icy look. “I believe Mara gave you an order, Doctor.”
“Your overuse of stimulant medication--”
“Is my own business,” she interrupted him shortly. “And will no longer be necessary once we have released Doctor Zin from His captivity.”
He sighed and opened his bag, searching through it for a moment before extracting a small dropper. “Here,” he muttered bitterly, passing it to Mara rather than Lana.
“You begin to think too highly of yourself, Neko,” Lana informed him gently.
Accepting the dropper from Mara, she drizzled a few drops into each eye. She bit her lip as the drug burned the sensitive tissue, but did not otherwise react to the pain that always came with using the drug. She would be glad when it was no longer a constant necessity in her life. There were many things that would change after tonight, and she looked forward to them all.
“Mara, the Doctor’s rooms are ready?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, ma’am. Exactly as you ordered. I’ve had all his personal effects moved to his new quarters along with several plants from your greenhouse,” she reported dutifully. “The whole suite has been thoroughly cleaned and aired and I saw to the arrangement of the furniture and wall-hangings myself based on pictures of his summer estate on Varda.”
“Good, very good,” Lana murmured, nodding her approval. “And his hospital room?”
“Also prepared to your specifications,” Mara assured her. She paused for a moment, then hesitantly asked, “How long do you think he will require medical care, ma’am?”
“Neko?” Lana asked, glancing at him. He was smirking at Mara. “What say you?”
“I will need to assess the Doctor’s situation before I may offer a reasonable estimate,” came his cautious response.
Lana snorted quietly, lapsing into silence again. She drummed her fingers against her leg as they drove and was out of the car before it had come to a full stop when they reached their destination. Meterand was waiting for them.
“Doctor,” he greeted her, falling into step beside her and ignoring Mara and Neko.
“Meterand,” she murmured, nodding and smiling up at him. “It’s good to see you again. I like this host of yours. It is... a decided improvement over the last one...”
Meterand smiled and shook his head. More than a year in a human host had done wonders towards his perception of the few months spent in a German Shepard. In retrospect, it really was rather amusing.
“The others await within,” he informed Lana.
“Good. Then let us not keep the good Doctor waiting any longer,” she suggested, following him to the tunnel-room.
The others were indeed assembled there. While they were mostly Vardian, all of the Migar races except the Cirronians were represented in the small group, each hand-picked by Lana for the honor of being present for Zin’s liberation. She and Neko would, of course, be the first into the Vault. The others were present only to bear witness to the historic occasion.
She had been careful to impress on them that it was still a great honor. Each was sufficiently loyal and faithful to believe it, too. They would spread the word to Zin’s other followers, disbursing a carefully edited account of his recovery. Lana had, in fact, already written that account out. Now all she had to do was carry it off.
“I thought Jerallan would be here,” Stashia commented quietly, bowing to Lana.
She shook her head and told the Enixian, “Jerallan is a vapid child. Her ONLY value is to keep Neko from harassing my other female subordinates.”
“Yes, she is a tad empty-headed, isn’t she?” He smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Doctor.” He looked up as Neko and Mara entered. “Ah, Doctor Neko. My love to the lovely and charming Jerallan.”
“You may socialize later,” Lana interrupted before Neko could respond to Stashia’s baiting. “Tonight, we gather for another purpose.” She glanced around the small assembly, her eyes settling on her Nodulian engineer, the best she had had since Tarn. “Are we ready?”
“Yes, Doctor,” he answered, bowing his head. “The last microcharge is in place and awaiting your command to detonate it.”
“Good.” She nodded sharply and turned to the others. “Neko and myself will retrieve Doctor Zin. He will be transported directly to our medical facility where he will be placed under Neko’s expert care. You will each be granted an individual audience with him as soon as Neko is confident that he has the strength to entertain.” She turned back to the engineer. “Detonate the charge. Tonight, my friends, we free Doctor Zin from his bondage.”
END TEASER
ACT 1
Lana was in the Vault before the dust from the small blast settled, coughing and sputtering as she climbed through the small hole. Her immaculate suit had to have been covered with dust and debris, she knew, making a mental note to have another sent to the hospital facility so she could change. It would never do to have Zin see her dusty and mussed.
“Sir?” she whispered in the dark Vault, pulling on her night-vision glasses.
Light would be almost intolerable to Zin’s eyes after almost a year of disuse, she knew, or she would have brought a high powered flashlight instead. It took her a moment to pick Zin’s form out of the darkness, slumped against the empty pedestal that had once held the Strada Brac. She scrambled over to him on all fours.
“Sir?” she repeated, her voice harsh to her own ears as she rested one hand against the cold skin of his throat, searching for a pulse. “Please,” she breathed, only peripherally aware of Neko’s presence next to her. “Come on...”
“Heart rate could be slowed to fewer than one beat every two and a half to three minutes,” he murmured soothingly. “It’ll be shallow, barely discernable. Don’t worry if you don’t feel it right away. There’s no overt sign of decay or--”
“The Vault has a built-in stasis field, you moron!” she snapped, cutting him off. “There’s no tendency towards entropy in here. Even if someone died in here, the body wouldn’t decompose...”
“Lana, be calm,” he urged. “You need to keep your head about you or--”
“SHUT UP!” she shouted, lashing out and shoving him. “How the hell can I hear myself think with you jabbering at me! Just shut up and--” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening as she felt an almost imperceptible flutter of movement under one finger. It could have been her imagination and she knew it, so she waited in absolute silence, the only sound her labored breathing. And then she felt another shallow heartbeat. “He lives,” she whispered, glancing at Neko. “He lives, Neko. He lives! See to him,” she ordered, moving aside to make room for the physician.
Neko worked quickly, laying Zin out on the Vault floor and unbuttoning his shirt. “Help me,” he ordered, prepping a syringe. “He’ll probably seize. Be ready to hold him.”
“Right,” Lana murmured, moving to Zin’s other side. She winced as Neko plunged the enormous needle into Zin’s chest. “What is that. What are you doing?”
“Stimulant countermeasure. It should shock his body out of the hibernatory state.”
“‘Should’?” she repeated, glaring at him. The effect was ruined by the darkness in the room.
“We’ll detox him as well, of course,” Neko explained, producing a long box and opening it, revealing a series of syringes. “But first it’s necessary to shock the body out of the preservation stasis.” Before he could begin administering the second round of drugs, Zin’s body heaved on the floor. “Hold him!” he ordered, moving the syringes safely out of the way before the seizing Vardian could break them. “Hold his head,” he ordered, half laying over the Vardian to hold his body still and keep him from hurting himself.
Once Lana had caught Zin’s head firmly between her hands, Neko grabbed one of the syringes and emptied its contents into Zin’s carotid artery. He had just emptied the third syringe when Zin started to dry-heave.
“Roll him onto his side,” Neko ordered.
Lana nodded weakly and did as ordered, half pulling Zin into her lap, cradling him and murmuring soothingly even as she firmly restrained the disoriented and struggling Vardian. Neither of them were going to walk out of the Vault unscathed, Lana observed as Zin managed to free one arm and strike out wildly, bruising one eye and leaving a long scratch along her cheek with his ring.
“It’s okay, sir,” she whispered, catching his hand again and pinning it to his side. “Your faithful children are here for you,” she murmured. “We’ve come to free you. All in your name. Only ever in your name...” she soothed, turning the words into a mantra, shifting into Vardian and repeating her reassurances over and over in his native tongue until he stilled.
“He’s unconscious,” Neko announced after a few moments.
“Will he be okay?” she whispered, still cradling him close.
“He’s a strong man, Lana.”
“But he’s so thin,” she whispered. She had not been prepared for that. One did not lose weight in preservation stasis.
“He must have waited a long time to take the drugs to put himself into stasis.”
“He was waiting for me,” she told him, closing her eyes. “Before he left, I promised him that I would come for him if anything went wrong.”
“And you have, Lana,” Neko told her gently. “He’ll be grateful to you for that.”
“It took me almost a year. If I were him, I’d kill me for such incompetence.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, Lana.”
She shook her head shortly. “Have soap, water, clean clothes, and a razor sent down. I won’t have the others seeing him looking like this.”
“Always Zin first with you, isn’t it?” Neko asked, shaking his head.
“He will free our people,” she told him firmly, nodding. “For this alone, he deserves our respect and reverence.” Wrinkling her nose, she added, “Have a stick of deodorant brought in, too.”
Neko nodded and rose, leaving Lana with Zin and going to carry out her orders.
***
When the two carried Zin from the Vault not an hour later, he appeared painfully thin and was obviously weak and disoriented, but he was also neat and clean-shaven. His eyes tracked listlessly and he did not even seem to recognize his old friend Meterand. Still, he did have a smile for his followers.
“How long?” he whispered to Lana in the ambulance as they transported him to his temporary rooms in the medical facility. “How long has it been, child?”
“Too long,” she whispered, taking one of his hands in hers in spite of the impropriety of such an action. “But we have you now.”
“So dark. So cold...”
“I know, sir. Don’t worry, though. We have you. We’ll take care of you,” she promised, tears in her eyes.
“Don’t do that,” he ordered quietly, closing his eyes again. “It’s such a... HUMAN habit.”
“These bodies have their own minds,” she apologized, but she still struggled to contain her tears in accordance with his demand. “It will not happen again.”
“Good girl.” He fell silent again, dozing fitfully until they were transferring him from a stretcher into his hospital bed. “Where’s Netsyn?” he asked quietly looking around at the orderlies and nurses. “You,” he said, pointing arbitrarily to one. “Bring her to me.”
“Sir, Netsyn recently fell to the Cirronian,” Lana murmured apologetically. “I’ve chosen another mistress for you. I think she’ll meet with your approval. If not, another can be found.” She added, “There will be time for such things later, sir. Now, Neko says you must rest. The Faithful are most eager to see you.”
“Faithful?” he repeated vaguely, frowning up at her.
“There are those among your most loyal followers who believe that your entombment and deliverance are in accordance with the prophecies of the Book of Vartan.”
Weak he may have been, but Zin could not help but laugh at her words. “These beliefs wouldn’t happen to have been influenced by an ambitious young prostitute-turned-physicist, would they, child?”
She bowed her head at his reference to her previous line of work, but did not deny his words. “Exploitation of the Vartan cult will serve you well, sir. Already you have many devout followers.”
“You think of everything, don’t you?” he asked, closing his eyes again. He was bone-tired in spite of his time in hibernation.
“I certainly endeavor to,” she assured him quietly, glancing up as Neko entered to look Zin over. “Rest now, sir,” she advised. “We have much to discuss upon your awakening.”
Already asleep, Zin did not respond.
“He is stronger than I would have thought possible,” Neko informed Lana mildly, scanning the medical monitors.
“His will is strong,” Lana agreed.
“You should rest.”
“I will stay with our Lord.”
“You’re starting to take this too far, Lana,” Neko murmured.
“Or perhaps YOU are not taking it far enough,” Lana retorted, shaking her head. “He emerged from a year in that Vault virtually unscathed. Certainly that can not be a common occurrence? He lives and he is strong, stronger than you thought possible. And his strength will grow. Perhaps he IS Vartan returned to us.”
“Perhaps,” Neko agreed quietly, simply to close the subject. “You should rest,” he repeated.
“I will stay,” she repeated more firmly.
“I can have Mara stay. As his mistress, it is her duty to--”
“I will stay with him,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “For the past year it has been Lana, not Mara, who has worked to free Him. And now Lana will stay with Him. Let Mara rest. She’ll need her strength once He has recovered...”
“I’ll have a cot brought in,” Neko told her, knowing that she would not leave Zin’s side until she was convinced that he was well.
“Thank you, Neko.” Lana inclined her head towards him, then returned her attention to Zin.
***
Zin came awake slowly, aware of nothing so much as his pounding headache and the foul taste in his mouth.
“Shall I call Neko?” Lana asked quietly, aware he was awake in spite of the fact that his eyes were still closed. Three days of constant attendance in his hospital room had attuned her to every nuance of his, including his breathing patterns. “Are you in pain, sir?”
“No to both,” he murmured, not opening his eyes. “You’re Lana. I remember you.”
“Do you, sir?” she whispered, startled by that until she recalled his earlier comment about her career as a prostitute. Obviously he did recall something of her, and their history. “I did not think you would remember one such as me,” she said. Zin had many pupils, many devoted servants attached to his household. Lana had been one of many, and not among his acknowledged favorites.
“You were twelve. I was your physics professor,” he told her, not opening his eyes. He was still weak and exhausted but his mind was, mercifully, clear. “You were already a prostitute. I thought it a waste of your brains and talent and so I bought you from your master and had you trained up in physics.”
She bowed her head, staring at her feet. “I have always endeavored to justify your faith in me,” she assured him.
“Good child,” he murmured. “And now you’ve built up a cult around me, you said?”
“I have. Does this meet with your approval?”
“It does, yes,” he agreed, smiling faintly. “Let me rest now, child.”
“If this is Your will,” she agreed.
“Good child,” he murmured, nodding faintly. “On second thought, do call Neko to me. My head aches abominably.”
“Of course, sir,” Lana agreed quietly, rising and hurrying to find Neko.
END ACT 1
ACT 2
Lana was pulled from her fitful nap by the sound of Zin shouting.
“What do you mean a YEAR?” he demanded.
She pulled herself into a sitting position, opening her eyes and staring around the room, assessing the situation. Mara was kneeling on the floor, staring at her hands and obviously struggling to frame an answer to the furious man’s question.
“Mara, leave us,” she ordered, not wanting the girl to bear the brunt of Zin’s anger, not if she was to serve as his mistress later.
Mara automatically started to comply, then froze, staring fearfully at Zin.
“Out!” he snarled, waving his hand towards the door. “Go. And take this slop with you!” he added, shoving a tray of food in her direction.
Mara retrieved the tray and scuttled from the room, shooting Lana a grateful glance.
“She looks to you?” Zin asked, his voice trembling with barely-suppressed fury.
“They had to look to someone during your interment, sir,” Lana answered quietly, hazarding a glance at him.
His eyes burned with anger and, unless she was much mistaken, something else entirely. Maybe the psychologists had been right. Maybe a year in preservation stasis was enough to drive even a man of Zin’s intellect mad. Not, she told herself firmly, that it mattered. Most gods were mad, after all. She dropped to her knees next to his bed, ready to worship at his feet as an example to the others.
“You’re an intelligent creature, and stubborn. Determined. I remember this about you,” Zin murmured. He leaned down, catching her chin in one hand and forcing her head up. “I never would have taken you on otherwise. So WHY did it take you a year to free me?”
Lana ignored the pain of his bruising grip, ignored the rage in his eyes and tone. She had known that he would be angry and she was prepared for the contingency.
“Sir, I have suffered along with you this past year,” she told him fervently. “This was fully our FIFTH attempt to reach you. Of them, two were thwarted by the Tracker and his mongrel consort. Two others were unsuccessful for... other reasons.”
“‘Other reasons?’” he repeated, his tone demanding clarification.
“Haag believed the London operation more important than our efforts here, sir,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
If the killing blow was to come, it would be now. She was actually relieved when he simply backhanded her before collapsing back against his pillows. Lana lay on the floor, staring up at him with wide eyes and holding one hand to her nose to staunch the flow of blood.
“Bring me Neko,” he ordered. “My head aches.”
“Of course, sir,” she murmured, picking herself up and backing towards the door. “And I’ll have more satisfactory food brought--”
“No food,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Go.”
Lana obediently backed from the room, then turned and half-ran to Neko’s office. Mara was already there, shaking as Jerallan tried to make her drink a cup of hot tea.
“You should have let me tell Him,” Lana murmured, patting Mara’s shoulder. She gave her a sympathetic smile. “No fear, child. I’ll see to it that this doesn’t go against you.”
“Thank you,” Mara whispered.
“Doctor Lana is kindness itself,” Jerallan told Mara sincerely. “We both have much to be grateful to her for.”
“All is in His name, Jerallan,” Lana reminded her. “Find Neko for me, will you, child?”
Jerallan bowed her head, rising and backing from the office.
“Vapid little fool,” Lana muttered in disgust once the Dessarian was gone.
“I’m sorry, Lana. I didn’t mean to anger Doctor Zin,” Mara whispered, bowing her head.
“The fault does not rest with you, child,” Lana assured her gently. “Blame will fall where it must.”
“Haag should be made to pay,” Mara agreed grimly.
“That is not ours to decide, Mara. Now that Doctor Zin has returned to us, such decisions must be His and His alone...”
“Should I return to Him?” she asked uneasily.
“Not yet, Mara. I’ll let you know when the time is right.”
“It is appreciated.” Mara smiled weakly at her.
“Good girl. Go home and get some rest, now. I’ll call you when Zin is ready for you.”
Mara nodded and rose, bowing her head to Neko as he entered, then turning and leaving.
“Ah, and now we can add Procurer to your job description, I see,” Neko commented, smiling.
“You are a crude little man, Neko,” Lana informed him flatly. “And if you think finding a man a mistress is the worst I’ve ever done, you sorely underestimate me.”
“Oh, no one in his right mind would make the mistake of underestimating YOU, Doctor Lana,” he assured her.
“Zin requires you,” she announced, ignoring the irony in his tone. “His head is bothering Him and He refuses food.”
“Not uncommon side-effects under the circumstances,” he assured her.
“I don’t care if they’re common or not,” she snapped, scowling at him. “He is skin and bones! I will not have the Faithful see him in such a state!”
“No, I suppose it hardly befits for a god to appear so gaunt and unhealthy.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You will put some flesh on His bones, Neko. This is NOT a request.”
“I’ll start feeding him intravenously until he’s more capable of taking food,” Neko told her as they entered Zin’s room.
“I don’t care about nourishment,” Zin grumbled, not opening his eyes. “I want something for this damned headache! And then I want you to unhook this IV and give me something to restore my strength so that I may get back to work...”
Lana folded her arms over her chest and glanced at Neko, raising an eyebrow and waiting for him to respond.
“Doctor Zin, you will not be strong enough to return to work for some time,” he began hesitantly. “It would help if you could eat...”
“I will eat when it feels less like a nagthra parasite has taken up residence in my stomach.”
“Give Doctor Zin something for His head and then find something that will effectively combat this nausea,” Lana ordered shortly, dropping onto her cot and watching Neko work.
“Is she always so pushy?” Zin asked quietly as Neko injected an analgesic into his IV.
“Yes, sir,” Neko murmured. “I’m going to go get some glucose and a shot of phenegrin, which should help your stomach.”
“Thank you,” Zin said, sighing as the painkiller began to work. “Ah, much better.”
“I’ve prepared several reports on the past year’s operations,” Lana said quietly once Neko was gone. “Once you’ve been declared fit, I’ll have them brought to you.”
“I’ll want to talk to the others as well,” Zin told her.
“Of course, sir. They await your pleasure. Once you are somewhat recovered--”
“I’m no invalid, woman,” he interrupted. “Nor has my intellect suffered that you have to hide me away from the world.”
“I never for one moment believed that it might,” she answered sharply. She winced as she realized who she was talking to. “Forgive me, sir.”
“For having spirit?” he asked, amused. “Or for having faith in me?”
“Sir, I...” She trailed off, at a loss for words.
“That Mara is a lovely child. Your choice?”
“She is, sir. If she displeases you--”
“She’s just fine. Though from what I recall of your ambition, I’m surprised you didn’t put yourself forward.”
“If I am to Doctor Zin’s taste, I would be honored by His favor, but I would not presume to make such a choice for Him.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I see. You’re more complicated than I remember, it seems. You’ll bear careful watching...”
“I hope what you see will please you, sir,” she murmured.
Zin’s chuckle turned into a laugh. “Oh, you WILL bear watching,” he announced, pleased by her obvious desire to please him in ANY way he required. It HAD been almost a year, after all. Mara was fetching enough to prove quite diverting, but something told him that Lana would be more of a challenge. “Now, what’s this I hear about you taking over the Chicago operation during my... absence.” He shuddered involuntarily at the mention of his interment. It had been so cold in the Vault, so dark.
“Sir?” she asked, rising. “Are you cold? Ill?”
“Just chilled. It may take some time to get the cold of that Vault out of my bones.”
“I’ll get you another blanket,” she murmured, opening the storage locker and pulling one out.
“Thank you,” he sighed as she covered him and tucked the blanket around him.
“It is my honor to serve.”
“That’s what they all say. The difference is that YOU seem to believe it,” he told her quietly, intrigued. She was definitely more complicated than he had remembered...
“What woman could ask more than to serve a living god?” she asked quietly.
“I can think of a few other things a girl of your age and obvious vitality might wish for, but I’m afraid I am currently too weak to be of any service to you in that regard. Perhaps another time.”
She inclined her head. “If it pleases Doctor Zin.”
“Oh, it very well may,” he assured her with a faint smile. His smile faded and he glanced past her to the cot she had spent the night on. “THAT stays here until I leave,” he ordered abruptly. “And when I return home, Mara is to relocate herself to my quarters immediately. If I travel, she will accompany.”
“As you wish, sir.” She hesitated. “If I may be so bold, how many days...”
“Eleven before I conceded to the inevitable and took the shot,” he whispered, shuddering at the memory. “Tell Mara she will pass her nights with me whether I require her services or not.”
“I understand, sir,” Lana answered quietly. “I will see to it.”
END ACT 2
ACT 3
“Whether he requires my services or not?” Mara repeated, perplexed by the instructions.
“It is not yours to question,” Lana told her firmly. Recalling Zin’s comment in the ambulance about how dark the Vault had been and his fear and disorientation whenever he woke up and his room was dark, she added, “And have pale nighttime illumination installed in his rooms as well.”
“But, why?” Mara asked, her confusion obvious.
“Because I have ordered it and I do nothing that is not in His name,” Lana answered flatly. “You are greatly honored to have been chosen as Zin’s mistress, Mara, but do not forget yourself or your station. Compared to Him, you are less than nothing.”
“Oh, of course not, Doctor,” Mara agreed quickly. “I would never presume to think so highly of myself.”
“Good,” she murmured. “Then I did indeed chose well.” She smiled reassuringly at the other woman, leaning across the couch and patting her knee. “After you have implemented these changes, you may visit Doctor Zin for a few minutes today. He is still too weak to require your services, but he is eager to get to know you.”
“It will be my honor, Doctor,” Mara assured her, inclining her head. “Will he be in Neko’s care for much longer? Perhaps I should bring some plants to decorate his room until he may come here?”
Lana smiled faintly, nodding. Mara had obviously done her homework on Zin. His love of flowers was not well known outside of his inner circle.
“You’re a thoughtful child, Mara,” she told the other woman, using a diminutive even though she had several years on Lana. “I think Doctor Zin would appreciate the consideration.”
Mara smiled shyly at Lana. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Lana nodded and rose, glancing around the sitting-room for a moment. “You’ve done well in decorating the Doctor’s quarters, Mara. I’m certain he will approve greatly.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“You are most welcome. We will see you later,” Lana reminded her, patting her shoulder before leaving.
Neko would not be comfortable sending Zin home for several more days, but his improvement had been striking. His mind was clear and his strength returning. Of the not quite twenty pounds he had lost, he had regained ten in under a week. His dreams were troubled, but he seemed otherwise unscathed. He had been briefed by Lana on all that had passed in his absence and privately met with each member of his loyal inner circle. Not even Lana or a guard had been allowed to stay for those meetings and she suspected that he was comparing their stories to her own.
He had poured over her reports, complimenting her on her efficiency in between acid comments about the incompetence of various of his Lieutenants and the dedication of the Tracker, whom he seemed to afford an almost grudging respect. She was aware of the history between the two, had even seen the Cirronian at Zin’s estate a time or two, but his lack of anger at Cole over his interment was incomprehensible to her. The physiatrists put it down to emotional shock, but there was nothing of detachment or apathy in Zin’s manner as far as she could see. He was, in fact, quite cheerful and optimistic under the circumstances. That alone had many people very much afraid. Lana was perplexed and a little anxious, but she could not find it in herself to be afraid of Zin, either.
THAT was one for the psychiatrists, she reflected during her trip back to the hospital facility. Zin killed freely and with less remorse than she herself did. She knew that for a fact, had seen it firsthand. And she suspected that he was capable of far greater cruelty as well.
She recited the litany of humans and aliens Zin had ordered executed during his first year on the planet to herself, reminding herself that, no matter how much gratitude she bore him, he WAS dangerous. The problem was that every death she could cite to herself had a sound justification behind it. Certainly Zin had never been indiscriminate in the killings he ordered. They were all towards his greater purpose.
Perhaps, she told herself, she felt insulated against fear because of that fact. She had worked tirelessly in his name to fulfill his ends. But by the same token if she slipped up even once he could very easily order her death. He had done so before.
“You look troubled,” Zin observed as she returned to his room.
“Oh, forgive me, sir,” she murmured, quickly schooling her features. “I was simply reflecting on all that is yet to be accomplished.”
“I have every faith that we shall succeed,” he assured her, picking up a report from his bedside table. “In spite of the overwhelming incompetence and obstacles that you were forced to deal with during my absence, you’ve done quite well here. Between your native skill, my return, and the growth of the Vartan cult, we will be quite unstoppable in no time at all,” he informed her, smiling fondly and patting her cheek. “You are definitely the best business acquisition I ever made, child. The previously unknown EIGHT tool of the highly effective businessman...”
Lana made a mental note to order Neko to reduce Zin’s dose of painkillers, but she was still pleased with his praise. Obviously it showed, too.
“Is that embarrassment?” he laughed, shaking his head. “I would not have thought such a thing possible from one such as yourself.”
“In the face of such praise from such a man, sir, even the proud may be somewhat humbled.”
“You ARE after that position as my mistress, aren’t you?” he teased, his smile widening as her face went from pink to red. “I’ve been reading your reports,” he continued, changing the subject. There would be time to play with the girl later. Now, there were more important considerations. “Things really are falling apart in London, aren’t they?”
“They are, sir,” she agreed quietly.
“I think once I’m strong enough to work again, I’m going to want to discuss this situation with Haag. In person.”
“I shall inform him.”
“You do that.”
“Yes, sir. Will I be required to be on hand for this meeting when it comes?”
“I am informed that you wish the honor of killing him with your own hands,” Zin said abruptly. He smiled as she stared at him, stunned. “Not that I can blame you, given what happened with Magan. Regrettable business, that. His was such a fine mind...”
“Do you fault me for his death, sir?” she asked quietly, bowing her head.
“Most Vardians would have done the same under the circumstances, I think. And you managed the situation quite nicely, all told. He wasn’t even among the Faithful and you still managed to make him the first martyr to my cult. My very own MARTYRS, Lana!” he chuckled. “You have no idea how appealing that thought is...”
“I am pleased it meets with your approval.” She smiled faintly at him, then bowed her head again.
“I’m going to have to think on this vendetta of yours with Haag, however,” he continued, pleased by her reaction. She was devoted to him in more ways than one, it appeared. “He is not without value to me. But either way, you can rest assured that he will not impede or vex you further.”
Lana’s smile turned grateful. “It is much appreciated.”
“Now, returning to the matter at hand,” Zin said, patting the edge of his bed. “Agent Hess made a full recovery?”
“She did, sir,” Lana answered quietly, regarding him with wide eyes.
She was more than a little startled by his invitation to sit on the edge of his bed while they talked. It was completely outside of all bounds of Vardian propriety. A wife or mistress might be invited to sit on a man’s bed, but no other. She hesitated for a moment before perching on the edge of the bed, telling herself firmly that men like Zin were outside of the boundaries of common morality.
“Can she be expected to take the shooting as a warning?” Zin asked.
“It is not lost on her that the shooting is related to her investigations, sir, but she is stubborn by nature and not one to give in to her fears. There may be another way, though. Our intelligence indicates that she has recently formed a more than professional attachment to one Detective Victor Dominic Bruno.”
“I see.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. Vic Bruno, the ex-lover of Mel Porter, the Tracker’s pet and protector. That connection was unlikely to be a coincidence.
“I’ll pull together all available data on him, sir.”
“Good girl. And on this Jessica Brown when you have the time. Specifically, I want to know what her interest is to Mark Porter.”
“Our operatives inform us that Jess fell in with his daughter Kate by chance after her return to London.”
“I don’t believe in chance, dear,” Zin informed her gently. “Dig deeper. And KEEP digging until you hit pay dirt.”
“It will be done.” She inclined her head. “At present, we know her to have run away from home at fifteen, some years after the death of her mother. She spent several years living on the streets, begging and occasionally prostituting herself before being taken in by Adelaide Porter.”
“Fascinating,” Zin murmured. Three generations of Guardians, then, had taken an interest in Jess. There was no way that was coincidental. “What of her parents?”
“One of Haag’s idiot operatives killed her father. Ironically I’m given to understand that it was actually a mercy. The man didn’t have long to live.”
“Is that so?”
“Excess is often its own punishment. He drank quite heavily after his wife’s death.”
“And was he tied back to the Porters at all?”
“Not as far as we’ve been able to determine and you can be assured we HAVE been looking since she started showing up in his company.”
“What about the mother?”
“Administrative dead end,” Lana muttered, her disgust obvious. “No surviving relatives other than Jess Brown, the people who raised her were unconnected to the Porters. She was orphaned as an infant, adopted out by some religious group or other. Their record-keeping was a joke.”
“And how many did you kill for that inefficiency?” he inquired lightly.
“The two nuns who were involved with the adoption and still alive. I questioned them first, but they would not talk...”
“Odd,” Zin murmured. “I’m assuming your methods of interrogation to be as efficient as your administrative skills?”
“Always,” she agreed, lifting her chin proudly. “But you are, of course, correct. It also struck me as odd that they would not tell me what I wished to know. No civilian has ever resisted so effectively before, certainly not little old ladies...”
“Fascinating,” Zin whispered.
“And almost certainly highly significant,” Lana added quietly. “Haag sent an operative to the Brown woman, trying to get information about the Porters through her. He had little success before the half-breed recognized him for what he was. The same operative tried but failed to take her captive later.” Clearing her throat, she added, “She was in possession of a COLLECTOR at the time, sir...”
Zin cursed and closed his eyes. “And we’re sure she’s human?” he asked after a long moment.
“As sure as we can be without vivisecting her, yes.”
“Well, I don’t think that will be necessary just yet, but we should definitely keep an eye on her.”
“I have seen to it that she is carefully watched,” Lana assured him. “Mark Porter is training both her and his younger daughter to fight.”
“Then we’ll just have to put him out of the way before he can teach them too much. And this time, we will make SURE of it.”
END ACT 3
ACT 4
Zin and Lana spent the next several hours discussing other matters of import, mostly internal to the running of Zin Industries. The young Vardian could not help but be gratified by Zin’s obvious faith in her abilities and assessments. A faith no doubt reinforced by the discussions during his private meetings with the other Lieutenants.
It was as well that she had hand-selected that group or it could have gone ill for her. As it was, Zin’s confidence in her had increased by leaps and bounds in a very short time and that was all to the good.
“Which just leaves the matter of Marguerite Braxton,” Zin said finally as their discussion came to a close.
“She hasn’t told the authorities anything yet,” Lana informed him. “But she will. The woman is mercenary in the extreme. If she would willingly have sold out her own blood, she will eventually be persuaded to see reason in selling US out.”
“You don’t think fear will keep her quiet?” Zin asked, startled.
“Not forever, no.” She shook her head faintly. “She lacks the common sense. In time, assuming herself to be safe behind bars, she will begin to forget exactly how much we are capable of.”
He frowned but nodded. “Then we’d best have her silenced.”
“It shall be done,” she assured him. “We have an operative in the prison where she is being held.”
“One of us? One of the Faithful?” Zin queried.
“One of us, yes, but not yet swayed to the Vartan cult.”
“Too risky. Send someone you can trust.”
“With your permission, I would be glad to handle it myself.”
“A tempting offer, but I want you to stay in the city for a few months. At least until I have reaccustomed myself to the running of our operation here.”
“Of course, sir.” She bowed her head, pleased by this further indication of his confidence in her. “I’ll send Slal. He can handle the matter discreetly.”
“That’s a Dessarian name, but I’m not sure I recall it,” Zin told her, frowning at the lapse. His memory was not, admittedly, as sharp as hers, but he could at least be trusted to remember the names of those in his employ, especially if they were any good.
“You would not, sir,” she said, her tone reassuring. “Slal did not join us until the second Sar-Top escape. He came highly recommended by Zarreth as well as Cedra and Vedra.”
Zin nodded faintly. “I’ll want full dossiers on everyone who has joined us during my absence,” he directed.
”They are in your office and await your perusal,” she assured him.
“I want them NOW,” he told her firmly.
“Of course, sir. I’ll have them sent for.” She looked up at a quiet scratching on the door. “Or perhaps I should get them myself. I do believe that’s Mara.”
“Is it now?” he asked, smiling faintly. “You recognize the sound of her fingernails on wood?”
Lana flushed and bowed her head, shocked by the suggestion. Traditionally, a quiet scratch on a door was how a prostitute or courtesan announced her presence to her employer when he required her services. To recognize a particular pattern to the sound, though, was as good as admitting that you frequently patronized the individual in question.
“Sir, I--”
Zin shook his head faintly, giving her a reassuring pat. “It was a joke, dear. I was teasing you. Now leave me to my mistress,” he ordered. “And get me those files.”
“It shall be done,” she agreed, bowing and backing to the door. She opened the door and backed out the rest of the way, nearly bumping into Mara. “Sorry,” she muttered, reaching out to catch the pots in Mara’s hands before she could drop them. “Doctor Zin is ready for you. Learn to KNOCK,” she added, shaking her head and stalking off.
Mara stared after her, not sure what she had done to offend.
“You CAN come in now, you know,” Zin’s voice filtered out into the hallway. “Don’t be shy, child. I don’t bite. Or, at least, I don’t bite hard.”
Mara smiled faintly at the qualification, squaring her shoulders and walking into the room. “Doctor Zin, I thought perhaps some potted plants might make your stay in this place more bearable,” she began in an appropriate subservient tone.
“Lana was right. You ARE a considerate girl.”
“I’m glad my gift pleases the Doctor.”
“Drop the formality,” he directed. “I’ve never held my mistresses to those ridiculously old-fashioned standards of behavior. My name is Zin, not ‘Doctor’, and I will not fire you for looking me in the eye...”
“Of course not, sir. Forgive me.” She placed the two pots, each containing a different variety of Vardian flower, on the nearest flat surface and looked up at him. “My last employer was most strict about such matters.”
“Mmm, but I employ women for much more than their bodies,” Zin pointed out. He gestured to her human host. It really was less to his taste than, say, Lana’s petite form. He liked his lovers small, whatever species they belonged to. “At this point, your body really is fairly secondary to my interest, anyway. What interests me in a woman is the brain that resides atop her lovely, long neck...” He trailed off, beckoning to her. “And your neck is longer and lovelier than I had remembered from the other day. Lana has impeccable taste.”
“Doctor Lana is a good woman,” Mara agreed, approaching his bed and awaiting further instructions.
“Is she?” he asked, catching her hand and drawing her to sit next to him. “Do tell...”
“She has worked tirelessly this past year to free you, sir,” Mara informed him. “And she never asks of any of us any effort she is unwilling to make herself.”
“Admirable, I’m sure. And her temperament?” he asked. According to his other Lieutenants, Lana was mercurial at best and had a vindictive streak a mile long.
Mara hesitated. “She is... not without her moods, certainly, but never irrational or unfair.”
“I see,” he murmured, smiling to himself. “So, what you are saying, to use the human parlance, is that Lana is a bitch but a damned efficient one?”
”I would never presume to insult Doctor Lana so.”
Zin’s smile widened at Mara’s cautiousness. It would take her, and likely many of the others, to grow accustomed to serving two masters. And they almost certainly would, at least for a time until they grew used to having him in their midst again.
“And she is faithful to me?” he asked, resting one hand on her throat.
Mara’s skin had the slightly clammy feel of one who had taken a human host rather than forming their own body, but it was smooth, soft, pale, and exactly to his taste. He absently wondered how Lana had become so conversant with his preferences in humans. Years of observation may have given her insight into what he looked for in the various Migar races, but he had not kept more than a handful of mistresses in human hosts for any length of time and his affairs with actual humans were always short-lived.
“She is without question your most faithful follower, sir,” Mara told him.
“And in the past year, she alone among my Lieutenants has maintained full hope and faith?” he continued, wondering if Lana could possibly be as devoted to him as she and the others claimed. As her personal assistant, Mara WOULD be the one to know for sure.
“I can not speak to the thoughts and actions of people I have never met,” Mara told him. “But Lana has never wavered in her devotion to you.”
”And now she is telling the others that I am Vartan reborn?”
She nodded faintly. “Exactly as she has for some months now.”
“Very good,” Zin breathed, nodding to himself. “And what of you, Mara?”
“Sir?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Do YOU think I am Vartan, returned to save the Vardian people and their allies from bondage and degradation?” he elaborated. Mara was an intelligent woman and would not have been easy to sway. If she believed, he could rest assured that many of the others did as well.
“Sir, after all you have survived and endured for our sake, I do not see how you could be anything BUT the savior of our race...” She bowed her head and admitted, “I doubted at first, but seeing you restored to us has shown me the truth of Doctor Lana’s words. You will save our people.”
He smiled widely, impressed by Lana’s skill at manipulating his followers and pleased at the thought of such reverence and devotion being aimed at him. If the spread of the Vartan cult was half as easily in Migar itself, his job would become almost laughably easy.
“I see, Mara. In fact, I begin to perceive much. Will you serve Vartan reborn?”
She looked up at him, her expression faintly startled. “Of course, sir.”
“And will you tell others?” he whispered. “Will you tell them what I have endured for their sake?”
“With your permission I will spread this news gladly,” she told him.
Oh, yes: laughably easy.
He nodded magnanimously. “If you feel you MUST, Mara, I will make no move to stop you,” he promised. “But you must understand that only the Faithful will be blessed with such freedom of speech and action. You were there when I was rescued? You SAW?”
“Yes, sir.”
Zin smiled paternally at her. “Then you know what I have suffered for your sake...” He gave her throat an affectionate squeeze. “You will be rewarded and honored for your faith, child,” he assured her. “And for your other services to me,” he added, dropping his hand and laying back. Finger-shaped bruises were already starting to form on her neck, marking her as his. “Your host is most uncommonly attractive for a human. I think I shall be well-pleased with you in EVERY important respect.”
“I will endeavor to ensure that you are.”
“Good girl.” He nodded faintly. “Are you any good at backrubs?”
“I...” She hesitated. “I have never tried to give one before.”
“That’s okay,” he murmured, rolling onto his stomach. “You can learn on the job. I have a terrible knot in my neck.”
“Here, sir?” she asked, quickly finding the area of tension.
“RIGHT there,” he agreed, closing his eyes. “Mara, would you trust Lana with a life?” he asked languidly after a few moments in which she managed to make short work of the cramp.
“Mine or your own?” she murmured, planting a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck.
Zin purred softly. Lana had definitely chosen well. “Either.”
“No and yes, respectively,” she whispered, sliding her hands under his hospital gown and rubbing his shoulders.
“And Haag’s?”
”Only for as long as it took her to kill him in the worst way imaginable.”
“How would you feel about that?” he asked, craning his neck to look up at her.
It was hard to focus his eyes as her deft hands worked at his tired muscles and reminded him that he had been more than a year without the comforts and pleasures that a skilled female could provide. It was a shame he was still so fatigued.
“If Haag had been more cooperative, you would have been freed from your captivity long ago,” she answered simply.
“I see,” Zin murmured, nodding and relaxing onto the bed again. “Then, whatever happens, he has no one but himself to blame.”
END ACT 4
TAG
Zin’s return to the mansion was a triumphant affair, carefully orchestrated by Lana who was rapidly proving herself to Zin to be as competent at Public Relations as she was at either Administration or Physics. Though the Faithful were well-represented, she had also been very careful to include most of those who doubted but might still be convinced by Zin’s ‘miraculous’ reappearance.
A handful of human businessmen and crime-lords rounded out the gathering, again all carefully selected by Lana who had, in the past year, had a difficult time assuring them that Zin was still alive and that she acted in his name and on his orders.
Mara’s form-hugging gown was elegant and absolutely stunning: burgundy and long with a plunging neckline that still managed to appear conservative. A careful application of makeup had covered the bruises to her throat, which undoubtedly would have raised the eyebrows of many of their human guests. A thin choker accentuated the length of her neck. Zin was pleased with the net effect. As his mistress, she was technically hostess of the gathering, and she conveyed that impression perfectly.
In her own somewhat more revealing dress, Jerallan was even more attractive than Mara and obviously awed and humbled to be in such company as she found herself. Neko kept a firm grip on his trophy’s arm, though it did not stop him from eyeing, and most likely mentally undressing, every other women at the gathering. Such was to be expected, Zin supposed. Some tigers would never change their stripes.
Lana, circulating through the mixed crowd with an ease that Zin doubted would have been possible for her a year ago, was dressed in her business best. The black suit did not entirely suit her petite and feminine frame, but it certainly projected the image of a consummate professional. He was starting to see why the others found her so intimidating. Even humans who towered over her and could not have possibly known what she was capable of behaved almost deferentially towards her.
“May I get you another drink, sir?” Mara offered quietly as Zin scanned the gathering, his eyes following Lana’s progress. That girl was going to be VERY useful to him in his plans, the old and the new ones he was beginning to form.
“Not just yet,” he murmured, shaking his head. “It’s been a year since I’ve had alcohol. I must moderate myself carefully.”
“Of course, sir. I could get you some water.”
He shook his head again, smiling warmly down at her. “That shade of red is most fetching on you, dear,” he noted. “Will you dance with me?”
“Of course I will, Zin,” she laughed, offering him her hand.
He smiled and accepted it, leading her onto the dance floor in time for a slow and stately waltz. Mara looked over the moon with happiness at his attentions and he cheerfully anticipated the end of the party when he would finally have her completely to himself. Ruthless she may have been, but Lana had impeccable taste.
Glancing around for the girl, he saw her taking a turn on the dance floor with Meterand, laughing and joking as one did with an old friend. When the set ended, he traded Mara off to Neko in exchange for Jerallan, smiling as he saw Lana partnering herself with Stashia.
She was a charmer when she cared to be, he had to give her that as she danced turn after turn, each with a different one of his subordinates and associates. Certain of the human crime-lords who could not have known or understood the real Lana seemed particularly taken, he noticed, making a note to use her in a social capacity more in the future and wondering what OTHER talents she had hidden away in that tiny body of hers.
Set after set he danced with different women, pairing with Mara several more times, but never more than once with any of the others. Eventually, and almost by surprise, he found himself with the object of his reflections in his arms.
“Welcome home, sir,” Lana murmured as they danced, smiling up at him.
“It is definitely good to be back. And this party is magnificent. You have outdone yourself...”
“It was my pleasure,” she assured him.
“Haag is conspicuous in his absence,” Zin observed after a moment. He had, in fact, noticed that immediately, but there had been no earlier opportunity to mention it to her.
“Invitations were sent to ALL of your Lieutenants,” she assured him. “He feels his own mortality, perhaps...”
“This can not be a comfortable time for him,” Zin agreed.
“Nor should it be,” she answered bitterly. “He’s done nothing but obstruct us this past year!”
“No more,” he reminded her, maneuvering her away from the dance floor and into an alcove. “But DID you invite him?”
“I did,” she assured him. “If he did not come, it is only because his own sense of guilt wears on him.”
“Guilt. And fear for what is to come,” he murmured.
“That as well.” She nodded faintly, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Zin smiled down at her, charmed by that expression. “You would have looked prettier in a gown,” he noted.
“Yes, but not so imposing.” She shook her head. “Those subordinate to you MUST believe me imposing.”
“I suppose so,” he agreed. “But I don’t find you even slightly so.”
“Nor would I expect you, of all people, to.” She shrugged. “All is in service to you, sir.”
“I know,” he whispered, looping his arms around her waist and drawing her body against his. “And I find it quite gratifying TO know.”
Lana flushed and ducked her head, not answering.
“You’ve circulated and conversed quite freely tonight. What can you tell me?” he asked.
“What would you care to know?” she retorted with a sly grin. “Your human subordinates will never underestimate you again or doubt that you keep close watch on them always, visible or not. As to the others, they are most thoroughly convinced that only a being of supernatural ability could have survived what you did. Mara has been most helpful in spreading that impression.”
“JUST Mara?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“And Jerallan. And myself. Along with many others among the Faithful.” Lana shrugged helplessly. “Who am I to stop the spread of such an illustrious faith as that of Vartan?”
“Only the most devious creatures I have laid eyes on in some fifty years of life,” he retorted, shaking his head.
In the few days since his rescue, she had already managed to worm her way so completely into his life as to make herself indispensable to him. She was lucky that she was as skilled as she was or he probably would have killed her for trying to manipulate him. As it was, her machinations served him far more than they did her, something he could hardly complain about.
She would be useful, already had been for that matter. And her tentative suggestions for changes in his organization were quite sensible. He fully planned to implement most of them in the next few weeks, which would certainly put the fear of God into the disloyal. Or, more accurately and thanks largely to Lana, the changes would put the fear of ZIN into them.
“I prefer the term ‘loyal’ to ‘devious’, sir,” she informed him with another playful smile. He liked his devious subordinate, she could tell. She amused him in addition to serving his interests.
“I’m sure you do.” He shook his head faintly. “I’ve said it before and I will say it again, Lana. You will most certainly bear careful watching...”
“Yes, sir. And I have said THIS before, but will say it again. I hope you like what you see...” Smiling up at him, Lana turned and vanished back into the crowd.
“Such a creature,” Zin murmured to himself, shaking his head. “That girl is going to make me unstoppable...”
END TAG
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