Betrayal (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 14) Read online

  Evil would continue to use the weakest and most gullible amongst them to enslave the rest. Perhaps, he should do to all of them what had been done to Rozari a millennium ago. Floods, plagues, and global freezing apparently weren’t enough. Only complete nuclear decimation would offer the reset which mankind needed. Afterward, only the fittest and most intelligent would remain.

  He couldn’t destroy them on his own. He wasn't allowed. He would need to Confer. He would need to ask Permission. He would need Approval. Once done, it would be as simple as snapping his fingers, willing it to happen. Until then, he’d have to wait.

  Senya took a long drag on his cigarette, and considered if he had any other options. It wasn’t like him to wish for mankind’s death. He had always been their champion, defending them despite it all. He tried to raise them up, assisting them on their way to their own enlightenment. But, there was only so much even he could take. At some point, it all had to end. At some point, he wanted his job to finish. He’d already spent more time here than any place before.

  "Not yet," a voice laughed from the chaise beside him. A whiff of fresh smoke caught upon the breeze, as his companion lit a cigarette, borrowing one of his. "You are giving them far too much credit. It shall be millenniums before they are capable of setting you free. That is, if they still exist millenniums from now. Either you or I may end them long before then, if they haven’t already managed to do it on their own."

  "Perhaps, you are correct," Senya replied, exhaling a smoky cloud into the night air, while holding the cig pinched between two fingers.

  He let the smoke drift across the tiny stump of the missing one. He didn't care about the finger. Its usefulness was limited. It was the ring he wanted, that small circle of plain gold metal. A gift from his wife, something he had always held close to his heart.

  "A pound of flesh," his companion replied, hearing his thoughts. "And, an ounce of gold. Which would you rather have? I’ve got an idea. Let's play chess. If you win, you may choose between them, since they both belong to me now."

  "And, if you win?"

  "Come now. When have I ever beaten you?"

  "Never, or at least, not yet."

  His companion laughed again. He raised his hand to wave at the star-filled sky.

  "We shall see about that. I think, right now may be my lucky moment.”

  Senya made a snorting noise, not certain if he didn’t agree. Right now, he was too weary even to play this game.

  “Since you cannot see,” the voice continued. “Let me describe the board for our contest. It is a universe as wide and dark as the one in which you live. I shall be black as I am forever hiding amongst the shadows. You shall play white, for that is the color of goodness, and you are good, or so they all presume. Only I know the truth of you, my brother. Even you question of what and who you are."

  "Is that right?"

  "Indeed. That half of the sky is yours, and this half belongs to me. When the game is over, one of us shall control the entire board."

  "I never play white," Senya said. "I must always defend. Were it not for you and your constant challenges, I might have nothing to do."

  "Of course. Were it not for me, you would sit around playing a lute, and eating grapes in your Heavenly Reward. Go ahead. I have already made the first move. The pawn awaits for you to strike him down."

  "The problem is, we are both playing with the selfsame queen. We shall have to eliminate her, if we ever hope to achieve a resolution beyond stalemate."

  "You would do that?" his companion asked with surprise.

  "I have already done it." Senya smiled to himself, noting his brother’s distress. "Go on now, Luka. I grow bored with your company."

  "One day, I shall win," Luka replied. "One day I shall knock you down so far you shall never recover. No one will be able to help you back up, and you shall be finished as you wish to be, although you shan't attain the Heavenly Paradise which you seek."

  Senya turned his blind eyes upon his companion. They flashed brightly, eclipsing all the stars in the sky above.

  "Go ahead, Luka. I welcome the challenge. Do what you will. We have all eternity to play this game. Now, leave me be. I find your entertainment lacking."

  "Indeed we do, Mika. We shall play until the end of time. Unless, you would like to start another wager? Have you got something more worthy which you would prefer to trade? What is there for me to steal, something closer to your heart than useless flesh and cold metal?"

  “I have nothing for you, Luka, but contempt. Go. Be gone before you raise my ire.”

  Eva didn’t know what roused her from deep slumber in the middle of the night. Neither did she know what compelled her to don a robe, and stealthily creep from her apartment. She crossed from the annex to the villa via the skybridge, after which, she climbed the marble staircase to third floor, and the private suites.

  The third floor was protected by a security system, the non-occupants only admitted by a special coding on their employee badges.

  Eva had not thought to bring her badge along. It wouldn’t have allowed her to trespass into these rooms anyway. However, to her surprise, she found herself before the door to His Imperial Majesty’s suite. To her further surprise, the door swished open, admitting Eva into this most privileged and exclusive bedroom.

  The suite was large by bedroom standards, although she imagined it much smaller than the Imperial Apartment back at the Palace. It was decorated in a pleasant, stylish manner with thick handwoven rugs over the marble floors, bentwood chairs around a small glass table, and a large bed in the center. Picture windows gazed out at the deck and the sea, spanning from floor to ceiling so everything from the beach to the moon and stars were always in view. The Rozarian sun would cast pink shadows as it rose above them in the morning, and the gentle roar of the sea's waves would lull them to sleep at night.

  In Eva’s mind, she saw Katie lying in this bed, the silk duvet drawn up to her breasts, her golden curls splayed out upon the pillow. The moonlight danced upon her hair, turning it gold. Senya would come upon her, towering over her, eclipsing the moonlight, which shone upon his back, his hair, shining silver like a halo.

  Senya knew why he had brought Eva here, but his resolution faltered when he saw what was in her mind. Or, perhaps his resolve fled all on its own. In all these years, throughout the good and bad, he had never wavered from his pledge, not once. Yet, he had failed in so many other way. What was one more transgression to add to this already endless list?

  Eva was startled when he came upon her, although there was no reason she should have been. After all, she was standing in his bedroom in the middle of the night. She assumed correctly the reason she was there, and while nervous, wasn’t necessarily against such a proposition. Only briefly, did she spare a thought for Rent.

  “Sir.” Eva knelt on the floor, while Senya stood at the balcony door, vacillating, stalling for time.

  The longer he waited, the more difficult it became to make a move. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. Indeed, he wanted her very much. It had been quite a long time since he had a woman, and this one was as pleasing, if not more so than most.

  "Go ahead," he heard Luka's voice inside his head. "Take her. Why not? You have eliminated the Queen, or so you have said. Did you lie to me again, brother?"

  "Sir?" Eva prompted. "May I rise, Sir, and approach Your Imperial Majesty?"

  Senya nodded, a slight inclination of his head.

  Noting his unease and hesitation, Eva realized she must take the initiative. He was curious, this man of all men. So full of himself, so dominating, so strong. Yet, when it came to this dance, he grew shy, and uncertain.

  "Does your leg hurt? May I massage it for you?"

  Eva glanced down at his leg, her eyes briefly sweeping across the breadth of him, her breath catching in her throat.

  Senya nodded again, whilst Luka's voice whispered in his ears. He let the woman kneel before him, and bring her hands to his damaged limb.

 
"You lie, Mika," Luka teased. "Else why are you so conflicted? If the Queen is truly gone, why not enjoy the woman who is here? Let her take you into her for it is evident that she longs to do so."

  "You are so tense, Sir." Eva leaned against his leg. She bent her face to his thigh, and kissed the jagged scar. "Come lie down, Sir. You'll be more comfortable that way."

  "Go on, Mika," Luka prodded. "You know you want to. You know you need to."

  As if in a daze, Senya let the woman take his hand. She led him to his bed, and bid him lie upon it. He could not see her as she removed her gown, and the robe which fell silently upon the floor, but he could hear the rapid beating of her heart, and each shallow breath that whispered from her lips.

  Eva drew back the silk duvet, and slipped beneath it. She relished the smooth and cool feeling of the luxurious fabric against her skin, while reaching for Senya's hand, pulling it to her, placing it upon her breast.

  "I am here for you," she said. "I am your servant, my lord."

  Senya despised himself for what he did next. He despised this mortal body which grew weak, and sought only to relieve the flesh. He took her quickly, and without pleasure, without satisfaction, but rather relishing the agony, and piercing pain in his leg. When he was done, he put his hand upon her womb, killing all the seed, lest they spark another progeny. Then, he bid her leave him be, and not return, whilst summoning a bottle of vodka to drown his revulsion.

  Eva scrambled from the bed, grabbing her gown and robe from where they had puddled upon the floor. She wrapped herself within them, only moments after she had removed it. Running out into the corridor, the door swishing silently behind her, Eva never noticed Rent watching from the shadows.

  While Eva scurried back to her flat, Senya lay prone and alone in his bed. His leg throbbed mercilessly from the exertion, the vodka already half gone, although nothing in it could serve to soothe the ache.

  Luka chortled. “How many times have I told you, there is so little difference between you and I? Yet, you insist upon fighting when it would be so easy just to let go and succumb.”

  “Go away, Luka,” Senya growled, his voice a rising crescendo in his throat. “Be gone with you, or I shall forsake all else to spend eternity tearing you apart.”

  “If you can find me,” Luka hissed, vanishing once again.

  Senya knew he ought to drag himself upright, although his muscles cried with every move. He ought to stumble across the floor, and prostrate himself before the windows, whereupon he ought to pray for his own salvation. But, he didn’t. Instead, he finished the last dregs of the bottle, and in a drunken rage, damned his mortal body and his eternal soul.

  Would that he could kill every one of them, even if he had to begin it all again. Would that he could, like his brother, fall to evil, the simpler, more uncomplicated path.

  Rent returned to his own suite, and ventured onto the deck. Smelling the faint scent of his brother's cigarette, he walked around the corner to discover Steve lying upon a chaise.

  "Couldn't sleep?" Steve asked.

  "No. What about you?"

  "The usual nightmares, so I came outside."

  Rent nodded silently in the moonlight, leaning against the rail, and staring out at the stars.

  "Tomorrow night, dude," Steve announced, exhaling smoke into the crisp night air. "On the sailboat. Are you coming, or not?"

  Rent paused a moment, before answering. He thought of Eva, her hair disheveled, her robe gaping as she hurried from their father's room. He thought of Katie somewhere across the galaxy all alone, wondering what had become of all of them, wondering if they cared. He thought of his fear of space travel, and the prospect of venturing across the galaxy on a tiny plane with only his brother to drive them.

  "Yes," Rent decided. "I'll come with you. Try not to kill us."

  "Good. It's the right thing to do. You know it is."

  Rent wasn't entirely certain about that. They might die trying to escape. If they failed, and were returned to their father, he might kill them too. However, there really wasn't another choice.

  "There really isn't," Steve agreed, finishing his cigarette.

  Chapter 14

  Anne Black was planting tomato starts when Walter came upon her. The plants were on sale at the Big Box store this week, and some of them were already fruiting with little green tomatoes.

  Anne was on her hands and knees digging holes in the beds where the tulips and daffodils had only recently been executed. She sprinkled a teaspoon of granular plant fertilizer into each hole, and then, gently placed the tomato plant inside.

  Anne wasn’t overly fond of tomatoes, yet everywhere she went she planted them. They were easy to grow, she supposed, and it was something her father had always done. In a small way, it made her feel closer to him, and closer to home. It was also productive, better than sitting around depressed.

  “Excuse, Ma’am,” Walter interrupted, startling Anne, so much so, she dropped her trowel upon a plant. Her first inclination was to go for her gun, which unfortunately, or not, was on the kitchen table in the house.

  “What do you want?” Anne demanded, recovering her garden tool and waving it in a threatening manner.

  The trowel was a ruse, a decoy. Anne was in great shape, and had been practicing her moves. Once again, she was fully competent in mixed martial arts. Anne had no doubt she could take out this mildly overweight, middle-aged intruder, if need be. She probably wouldn’t even hurt her foot in the process.

  “Are you Anne Black?” Walter asked, reaching into his back pocket whereupon he extracted his Peace Officer badge.

  “Yes,” Anne replied. “Who wants to know?”

  She narrowed her eyes and read the inscription declaring Walter an officer of the city with the unpronounceable name. She also noted the Glock, and the Taser strapped to his side.

  Anne had to admit, she coveted that Glock. It reminded her of many she had owned. Actually, it was the exact same model as her first one, which coincidentally, she had won during the Junior Marksman Competition at Murray’s Gun Range in this same town.

  “Ms. Black,” Walter announced, pulling the handcuffs from his belt. “I’m afraid I need to bring you in for questioning.”

  “About what?” Anne demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  She judged the distance and velocity needed to land a roundhouse kick, as well as the complexity of simultaneously removing Walter’s Glock from his holster.

  Walter hadn’t anticipated any resistance from the lady. Due to his size and weight, as well as his Peace Officer badge, he assumed she’d easily submit. If he had asked his mother, Adrienne, she would have told him that Katie Golden never went easily anywhere. Adrienne would have advised her son to come up with a good excuse, and be prepared. Adrienne would also have told him to be alert for an attempt at escape. In addition, she would have advised that Walter to secure the premises with either a large dog, or additional officers. Only then might he expect the woman’s compliance, but knowing Katie Golden, maybe not.

  Unfortunately, Walter, being the impulsive guy that he was, hadn’t prepared a warrant or reason for her arrest beyond her striking resemblance to the aforementioned Katie Golden aka de Kudisha. So excited was Walter upon receiving the response from the NSA that he immediately jumped into his speeder and set out.

  How they had located the woman, Walter would never know, for she had no cell, cable tv, or internet, and didn't belong to a gym. Walter assumed correctly that the NSA had secret ways to locate everyone on the planet, a comforting thought to Walter and his Peace Officer brethren, but no one else.

  "Ms. Black." Walter puffed up his chest in an attempt to strike a domineering, but not overtly threatening pose. "I'll explain it all to you when we are down at the station."

  "The hell you will," Anne Black replied. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Get out of here before I call the cops."

  "I am the cops," Walter declared, "And, if you refuse, I'll have to place you under arrest." />
  "For what? You can't just come here and arrest me for no reason. What happened to my civil rights?"

  "Oh," Walter scoffed. "That's so last century. We don't have to have proof any more. All we need is a suspicion, and I suspect you of committing a crime. Be a good citizen and hop in my speeder. The quicker we get there, the sooner you'll be released."

  "Citizen?" Anne yelled. "A citizen is protected by the law."

  Walter could see that the woman was getting more and more agitated, which didn't bode well for his big break. He thought about pulling his gun, but what if he ended up shooting her dead, especially while she was armed with only a garden trowel?

  While Walter vacillated on how to proceed, Anne announced she was going in the house.

  "I need to feed my cats," she declared, pushing open the doublewide's door. "Come back when you have a warrant signed by a judge."

  "Alright," Walter muttered, wandering back to his speeder.

  He decided to head to the station house, and write up a warrant. He'd come up with a reason to arrest her, disturbing the peace or something like that. Once he got her in the jail, he could prove who she really was and worldwide fame, as well as that big screen vid would soon be his.

  Anne, in the meantime, set out some food for the neighborhood feral cats. Anne actually hated cats, especially when there were more than one. As Walter flew off, a dozen cats had crowded around Anne's back door, waiting for whatever delicacy she cared to share.

  “At least they keep the rats down,” Anne muttered, during the chorus of mewing.

  Out there in the sticks, as well as in town, rats were appearing everywhere. At first, Anne had wanted to shoot them with her laser, but she was running out of charge. If only she could get to Murray’s Gun Range for more ammunition.

  Murrays. Hmm. Why didn’t Anne think of this before?

  Anne wanted a new gun, preferably one with bullets, and Murray's was the best place to get one in this town. Every Sunday, he held a competition. Six shots in the center of the target, and she'd get her choice of any of the pieces on display.