Chapter 25

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When Alex regained consciousness, the shapeshifter was no longer there, nor were the handcuffs that chained him to the chair, and his hands were free. For a few minutes, he listened to the sounds in the huge warehouse, barely moving. Especially from the side where the guards were leaving. But there was nothing to indicate that they were alive.

So, trying not to make any noise, he rose carefully from the chair but was immediately forced to squat down with his hands on the floor - his legs were like cotton wool after a long period of immobility, and they were practically unresponsive to him.

After sitting for a few seconds to let his muscles get used to the idea of "Now you must work again!" he paced cautiously and looked around carefully, heading towards the body of the guardsman who had proved unlucky enough to be in Lord Velaske's retinue for the day.

The blue-black tunic had numerous fist-sized holes in it, still smoldering around the edges. The holes were still smoldering at the edges. A crust of crimson-blackened crust covered the wounds and gave off an unbearable stench of burning and rotting meat. Fighting a bout of nausea, he unfastened the restraining sling and drew his blaster from its holster, which the guard had never managed to reach. After the "ready lever" was lowered, the tiny display on the back of the receiver flashed the number "twenty" changing to "five", with the power adjustment ring turned to maximum.

Not much at all... The guard had one more replacement unit on his belt and that was it. Alex slipped it into his trousers pocket and looked around thoughtfully.

The only weapon other than the guard's blaster available in the room was Lord Velaske's sword, which he still clutched in his hand.

No, no, no... I'm more likely to be killed with it than without it, Alex thought, glancing skeptically at the sword. If he could count on anything with shooting, his swordsmanship skills were so modest that they weren't even worth mentioning.

All right, then, let's get out of here quickly. He decided, and after looking over the motionless bodies of Lord Brenor and the 'rebel', he headed towards the remains of Professor Takkar.

He couldn't afford to leave without searching for the bastard.

And I really hope he has something with him that explains why they had to kill me

A quick search revealed that the Professor had a miniature blaster, a wallet containing three thousand credits, a small disabled infoblock, a bundle of info sticks, a small card, which Alex identified as the Professor's Institute badge, and a mysterious piece of plastic.

On a thin square piece of plastic paper, it said "Tallana Emergency Committee" and there were three shimmering holographic seals: the seal of the "Northwest Municipality of Arkun", the "Union of Tallana Students" and the seal of the "United University of Tallana".

Looking over the sheet and grinning puzzledly, he slipped it into his pocket just in case, hoping it wasn't bugged, and, lugging everything but his blaster and Institute pass, he took the loot to the equipment table.

That leaves Lord Velaske.

Judging by the way his midsection had turned, if he had anything useful in his pockets, he could forget about it, Alex tried to convince himself, because if I searched that, there'd be one more senseless body in the room.

Covering his nose and mouth with one hand and making an effort to keep nausea at bay. He pushed the remains of the lord's lower half aside and retrieved the case with the injector and its cylinders from underneath.

"I think the stimulant they gave me was blue..." Lord Cassard rummaged through the briefcase, discharged the injector, and put Lim's serum in his pocket.

He found a cylinder of blue liquid, filled it up - the professor had performed the operation in front of him - and grinned grimly at the gleaming, chrome-laden injector:

"So, volunteers required... you and you, step out of line!" He informed the motionless bodies of his fellow unfortunates.

Alex, biting his lip pensively, stared for a while, measuring himself now for Lord Brenor, now for the "Resistance". Finally, with a heavy sigh, he made up his mind, approached the paralyzed insurgent lying on the floor, rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, and, placing the injector on his forearm, pressed the trigger.

The injector made a sharp hissing sound. A reddish stain was left on the skin, and Alex took a couple of steps away and waited for the results.

After about a minute, the paralyzed rebel moved and, with evident difficulty, raised his head and looked around the room with a hazy gaze:

"Where's the bastard?" he wheezed, turning to Alex. "Grand..."

"Dead. He's lying behind the container." Alex nodded in the direction of Professor Takkar's resting place. "Do you know anything about medicine?"

"General course only..." replied the rebel, making an unsuccessful attempt to rise. "Will you get my hands free?" He asked, glancing up at Alex. "Your Lordship..."

His hands were restrained by a semi-transparent loop of what looked like plastic, a couple of centimeters thick and without any sign of a lock:

"Can this be cut? With a sword?" Asked "his lordship", having finished examining the handcuffs. And, waiting for an affirmative nod, Alex pulled the hilt of the sword from Lord Velaske's still-warm hands.

"You have to squeeze the grip tightly and press the button near your thumb." Instructed the wounded man, seeing Alex's confusion.

"Actually, I was thinking about how not to saw off anything of value to you." Alex snarled, gently bringing the buzzing strip of golden fire to the cuffs. "Don't move because I'm a bit clumsy with these things..."

The glowing blade touched the handcuffs, which immediately dispersed into black bubbles and streams of grey smoke. The smell of burning plastic was added to the smells of burning meat that filled this part of the warehouse.

"Did you do this to them?" The injured man asked, nodding at the mangled bodies of Lord Velaske and his bodyguard after Alex helped him up and into a chair. "My name is Krain, by the way." He added, breathing heavily. "Krain Werk. I'm with the Anti-Imperial Alliance."

"No, I didn't." Alex shook his head, answering the question. "They're the ones who make each other feel that way. Conflict of interest. Do you know what he needs to be injected with to bring him to his senses?" He waved a hand in Lord Brenor's direction. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"You need a neutralizer. Probably the same one they gave you." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, silent for a few seconds. "No, I don't remember which one. I think the color markings are two brown stripes and one blue... And there should be an inscription on the bottom..."

"Isn't there a container of that murky white liquid, marked with three blue stripes and a Vitalin sign?" Krain asked hopefully, watching Alex as he rummaged through a case of cylinders for the injector.

"I don't think so..." He grunted, studying with interest the markings on the cylinder that matched the rebel's description. The marking on the cylinder indicated Nullifier-AC3, followed by a jagged array of numbers and letters that must be a chemical formula or a commodity code. "Nullifier-AC3 is it?" He asked, glancing up at Krain, who only shrugged his shoulders in response.

Well, let's hope it's a neutralizer and not some kind of poison, Alex injected Lord Brenor and sat down beside him, waiting for the results.

"Or maybe there were pills? The big ones with 'Vitalin' written on them, too," Krain persisted.

"No, there were no pills, just cylinders for the injector. Why - some kind of critical medication?"

"I've been shot by these bitches," the rebel showed a burned hole in his left pant leg, through which a gash could be seen. "I couldn't even limp unless I had someone to lean on. Vitalin would have saved me."

Alex shrugged and rummaged through the case again, hoping that the Vitalin he was looking for would turn up, but there was no cylinder with that marking. Soon his search was interrupted by Lord Lister, who came to his senses:

"Damn it!" He groaned and looked around with one eye open. "In the name of all shadows and the lansa of light flames, Lord Cassard, where are we?"

"In captivity." Alex chuckled but then added immediately. "I mean, we were prisoners, and now we need to escape from that captivity quickly."

"Did the Melatians attack us? We attacked Melato?" Lord Brenor looked at the body of Velaske's guard with surprise. "And who is this man?" He added in a barely audible whisper, pointing his eyes in the direction of the rebel.

"No, as far as I understood, we were attacked by quite different people, but the Melatians had some interest in that as well. And we're on Tallana, from what I understand... By the way, if you'd like to meet Krain Werk, our comrade in misfortune and the man who got hurt trying to help us... Anyway, we need to get out of here. How are you feeling?"

"My whole body burned. My arms hurt like a hundred demons trying to tear them off, and I'd pay a million denarii for a single glass of water, not even wine, but..." Lord Lister wrinkled in pain and stood up, wobbling a little, but he kept his balance. He stared up sharply and then back down at Alex. "You can count on me! What do you want me to do?"

"We must get out of this place very quickly." He replied and turned to the rebel. "Krain, do you have any idea exactly where we are and which way to run?"

"No." He shook his head. "They brought me here paralyzed, and I was shot near Three Creeks Square. I don't remember there being any big warehouses..."

"Pity." Alex pushed the cylinder case away from him with a sigh and told the rebel the unpleasant news. "Vitalin doesn't seem to be here. Maybe a painkiller? It worked for me..."

"I don't care if there are demons under my skin!" Krain wheezed, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket. He did not look well. Pale with trembling hands, his eyes flickering reddish...

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"Maybe we could contact the representation on Talana of one of our Houses?" Brenor suggested, watching Alex manipulate the injector and stretch out his stiff hands. "They could take us away from here, send in the Guardsmen or Retainers. I bet they must have a com and more than one." He added, glancing expressively towards the metal table littered with equipment.

"Guardsmen..." Krain snorted, visibly revived by the injection. "And a police escort... You have no idea what's going on on Tallan..." he spelled. "R-E-B-E-L-L-I-O-N. Do you understand, Your Lordships? All the missions have been evacuated since this whole thing first broke out. There may have been a few left to "monitor the situation," but you won't find them by the standard numbers."

"They didn't leave the buildings completely empty, did they?" Alex objected. "Maybe there was someone left behind... a security guard or something..."

"Nope..." Werk shook his head tiredly. "No way. The Fyron outpost got torched yesterday. I don't know about the Bentar one, but I doubt there's anyone there but droids. Even the droids, I doubt it. The Great Houses have never been well-liked on Tallana, and they've got the reputation of being the "First Knights of the Empire" to add insult to injury. Furthermore, either the Imperials or the Rebels are jamming all communications except for the shielded planetary channels. And they jam so much that the screens shine!"

"So, until we get into orbit, we can only count on ourselves. The knights in shining ships won't save us," Rebel concluded.

"Then, for starters, Lord Lister and I will head out to do some recon while you sit behind the computer... I mean the cluster," he corrected himself, "and try to get as much information about what's going on here and why and copy it onto the sticks. Well, we'll do a quick recon and come back for you... any objections or suggestions?" Asked Alex, scrutinizing the faces of his fellow unfortunates. Lord Lister, who had just been handed his sword, was blooming and showed that he was ready to fight all of Tallana at once. Krain, on the other hand, looked at them both as if they were idiots, expressing extreme skepticism.

Or maybe it's just the expression on his face from being wounded?

"All right." The rebel sighed heavily. "Go on with the scouting. Just help me sit down first." He pointed to the metal table, littered with machinery, illuminated by the flickering bars of holo-screens. "And that... your lordships... don't get lost."

A couple of minutes later, any observer original enough to appear at that time in the Tallan warehouse of the Yummy Company would be able to see a truly picturesque spectacle.

Two half-naked men, covered in dripping blood, crept along the corridors of the huge warehouse. The first was a scrawny teenager armed with the openwork hilt of a sword. And following him, clutching his blaster with both hands and holding it almost at his face, was a young lad of no fighter's constitution.

Alex, who was sufficiently aware of the depths of his ignorance, was occasionally struck by waves of awareness of the absurdity of what was happening, but Lord Lister's 100 percent sincerity helped him fight this feeling - the "blade of honor" was sneaking around in all seriousness. He would tiptoe up to doorways and corners and then literally leap into the opening, freezing there in a strange posture, hilt raised menacingly above his head.

This manner made all Alex's reflexes and little knowledge howl, but he reassured himself that he was just out of touch and that this was some sort of local thing. And Lord Lister hadn't watched a local action movie, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

Maybe he'll blast away all those shots with his sword, Alex mentally reassured himself after another of Brenor's antics. Because otherwise...

The alternative was the most unpleasant: if there was anyone in the room with a weapon, the first thing they would do was reflexively poke the doorway with Lord Lister frozen there. Alex had a thought or two about sending Brenor to the rearguard and himself normally going first. But such an arrangement would have practically eliminated the chance to use the sword after all since all the effect of surprise would have fallen on Alex. And second, though Alex was not pleased to admit it to himself, for all the shortcomings of Brenor's way of moving, it made him an almost perfect "front-runner".

If we meet someone, the first shots will be his

Fortunately, the only bodies they came across were those of the assistant professors, all in grey jumpsuits and brown jackets. And all neatly killed by a shot to the back of the head. Thanks to these encounters, the scouts' arsenal was enriched with two local analogs of submachine guns, which Brenor called 'shorty', and three regular blasters. Another trophy discovered was a waistcoat of soft porous material resembling foam - these were "blaster foam" waistcoats, mostly completely undamaged as the guards' wounds were to the head.

But while Lord Lister had been quick to dismiss the idea of wearing the flak jacket, Alex, even though he understood that it was the right thing to do, could not bring himself to wear it... A sudden squeamishness was stronger than his reasoning! One could only wonder why the weapons taken from the murdered men were not subject to this disgust.

So when the chain of bodies finally led them to some small hangar, Blade of Honour looked like a model action movie hero.

Bloodied and half-naked, he clutched a sword in his right hand and a shorty in his left. Two blaster holsters and numerous spare blocks were strapped to his belt at once. The only thing that didn't match the action hero was the physique. Alex, who was following him, did not look much different, just had a shortened blaster slung behind his back. He was left behind as a "weapon of last resort". Since all his skills with the "shorty" were reduced to Lord Lister showing him where they had the "ready lever".

Inside the hangar was a large, light-green aerocar with blue stripes on the sides. The entire hull was riddled with gunfire, and thin bluish streams of smoke stretched through the huge holes in the windshield, illuminated by flashes of light - something was flashing in the cockpit.

The side door was open, and a body in a black tunic scorched by gunfire was hanging from it on the floor. Alex signaling for Brennor to cover, moved closer to the aerocar and peered inside.

The light green plastic of the cabin was riddled with black sores of hits, some of which continued to smoke slightly. The burned bodies of five more of Lord Velaske's companions - another in a black tunic, two in light green jumpsuits with blue emblems on the chest, and two in "civvies" - lay in strange poses on the seats and the floor. Everything inside the cabin was covered with some kind of thin white patina. The blinking light from the light panel that had been burned in two places played white glints on the plastered bodies, making them look like mannequins.

Lord Brenor approached the door of Alex's aerocar, peered inside, and froze:

"Who were all these people?" He finally asked, swallowing - the mixture of the smells of burnt meat and plastic was nauseating. "And who had killed them?"

"Terrorists and Melats..." Alex muttered and, shuddering in disgust, began a search.

"Allesandro... Are you sure it's worth it?" It came from outside. Lord Lister's voice was a bizarre mix of fear, disgust, and surprise.

"They were Lord Velaske's men." Explained Alex, trying to make as little contact with the body as possible, to pick up the melted tunic of one of the bodyguards. "I really want to know why he wanted to kill me, and there might not be another opportunity."

When Alex got out of the aerocar, he was literally shaking, and he was damn glad he hadn't eaten anything for the last three days. But what he found was worth it...

He found an infobox, though shot, a small folder of info sticks, and, most importantly, two small leather 'folding pads' with palm-sized metal plates - ID cards...

"Lord Lister, do you think I got this right?" Alex showed the open identification cards.

"The credentials of imperial security officers. It seems Lord Velaske's position was high enough for the house to arrange for such security..." commented Brenor in surprise.

Uh-huh, and he went with those guards to the rebellious Tallana to meet with the PVD terrorists... he grinned wryly at his thoughts. "I'm guessing those weren't guards at all."

"Maybe stolen or counterfeit?"

"The faces are the same." Alex summarized, peering into the aerocar and comparing what he saw to the three-dimensional images swirling over the metal surface of the ID cards. "About the fake one... I'm not an expert here, but I doubt it... All right, Sain Captain Pekri Tsklo and Sain Mihar Holphiret, what shall we do with you?" He muttered thoughtfully as he slammed his credentials shut.

I didn't want to take it with me but leave it... Eh! I wish I had a notebook and a pencil to write it down... I don't have anything. He rummaged about the papers for a minute, then decided at last. Throwing them into the aerocar, he drew his blaster, taking careful aim. Two orange orbs hit the floor of the aerocar with a howl, spattering the IDs into tiny scarlet droplets of metal and clouds of stinking smoke with a loud pop and crackle.

"So there would be no question as to where my fingerprints came from on the IDs of the murdered Imperial security agents." He explained, seeing the genuine confusion and mute question on Lord Lister's face.

"But your footprints are still in the aerocar and in this hangar."

"I might as well have left them behind when I was escaping terrorist captivity." Alex shrugged and looked around, waving a hand toward the opposite wall of the hangar. "I think there's a vehicle behind the container."

Lord Lister looked around distractedly, then shook himself as if trying to shake off an obsession and looked piteously at Alex:

"Lord Cassard, perhaps you can explain to me what has happened and what is going on. You obviously understand more than I do."

"If I..." He shrugged it off. "As I understand it, we were captured by some rebels or terrorists..." Alex continued explaining after they had moved away from the aerocar, heading towards some small yellow car standing in the far corner and looking completely undamaged. "And their customers or allies were Melatians... whether they were Melatians in general or Lord Velaske's men specifically, I don't know." He shrugged. "And they got into some kind of conflict, must have been over the price... and that."

"And they killed each other?" Lord Brenor's eyes widened in surprise. "All of them?"

"Well, why all of them..." Alex grinned smugly. "I had to help two of them myself. But really, I only had the chance to do so because of the commotion." He added hastily. "And there may well have been a few bandits who didn't make it out alive - the warehouse is enormous. Which is why we should get out of here as quickly as possible. Do you think this thing could help us?" He asked, slapping the side of the yellow car with the word "Yummy" emblazoned on the side.

"It looks like a service glider." Lord Lister suggested. "The key to it might be in one of the back rooms. Or one of the dead men." He grimaced.

"At the very least, we'll get a taxi." Alex smiled encouragingly - he didn't feel like searching through burnt corpses again.

Fortunately, I didn't have to. The key to the glider, which looked like a square bar of dark plastic, and several sets of overalls and jackets worn by the "rebels" were found in a nearby store room. They had a few sets of overalls and jackets worn by the insurgents, which were very useful for half-naked and cold "lordship". All these riches were in neat, narrow lockers labeled "Yummy", which appeared to be reserved for the personal belongings of the staff and were, of course, locked, but, as the practice had shown, such conventions were nothing to a man with a blaster.

Soon the service glider, loaded with everything worth taking, and driven by Krain (their lordships were completely unfamiliar with Talana), pulled up to the outer gates of the warehouse.

Alex, grabbing a bundle of all the "keys" he had found, got out of the car and headed towards a small box with two dimly glowing "up" and "down" arrows.

After a brief picking of the keys, the ginger gate went upward at an unseemly speed for its size, the smell of coolness, and the unfamiliar slightly tart scent of some flowers. On the other side was a pitch-black driveway, sandwiched between gray pavement slabs and lawns of purple-reddish grass, with beds of bright yellow plants that looked like small mossy mushrooms lined in huge letters. It was still the same "'Yummy'." The melodic purr of an approaching glider could be heard behind him, and Alex stepped out into the street mechanically, clearing the passage. Bare feet gently tasted the warm rough surface of the pavement slabs - no shoes were found in storage.

It's still warm and the weather is nice, though. Alex smiled mentally and took a full breath with his chest, suddenly happy. I'm still alive! Those who wanted to kill me were dead. All I have to do now is get out of here, and that's it...

It made him want to run across the grass and - the hell with it being purple! He took a couple of steps across the lawn, stepping out from under the huge canopy overhanging the entrance to the hangar, and froze.

The sky was crashing down on him.

It shimmered with millions of lights as if thousands of silver fireworks had blossomed in it and remained forever, covering everything with a huge pearly cloud of glowing mist streaked with twirling and flickering droplets of light. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a strange pinching feeling that this sky might be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life...

"Lord Cassard, Lord Cassard..." Brenor's voice came from behind me, frightening the unreal moment. "If you're having a picnic, now might not be a good time, for the PVD could turn up at any moment." He peered out the open door of a nearby glider. "Or is something wrong?"

"No, no." Alex shook his head absent-mindedly and, taking one last look at the incredible beauty, walked back. "Just admiring the stars..."

"These are not stars. It's a flow."

"A Flow? What do you mean?"

"Tallana's transit flow." He explained. "Transit ships."

"These are all ships?! How many of them are there?!"

"I don't know." Brenor sighed, turning to his 'observation area' - the back window.

"Up a zwigolot's arse," the rebel grinned as he moved the car, "a couple of million, maybe."

The figure voiced had as much impact as the sight of the Talana sky.

"A couple of million interstellar ships..." Alex said it out loud because mentally he couldn't believe it, the figure didn't stick in his mind. A spaceship refused to be associated with anything that could be "a couple of million".

A thousand, tens of thousands... but millions... He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. What the hell have I been up to?

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