Prophecy

'Well, it's good to see you. Where are you?'

'Ironia. I have the bait, Vidan. Set up the meeting.'

Vidan sobered. 'You're sure he'll go for it?'

'I'm sure. She's perfect. I paid a hundred thousand for her on Gergonia.'

Vidan pursed his lips in a silent whistle. 'She must be perfect. I'll contact Urquat.'

'Make sure he knows the deal. Jamdar must bring two hundred low-grade slaves, rejects, cripples, burn outs, I don't care, but he must meet Urquat in person. Find out where and when, then contact me.'

'You sure Urquat can be trusted?'

'He knows what will happen to him if he betrays me, and he's being paid handsomely for the cover, so why would he betray me?'

Vidan shook his head. 'Okay, but I'll need something to whet Jamdar's appetite. He'll want to see the goods.'

'I'll transmit a holoimage.'

'Right.'

The Shrike turned away as the screen went dead and retracted into its slot.

When no one came for several hours, Rayne decided that she had been left alone for the day and tried to pry off the lock plate on the door, but it foiled her. She cursed it, boredom and frustration fraying her temper. She turned her attention to the rest of the complex, determined to find an egress of some sort, an air duct or maintenance hatch. After searching all the rooms, she came to the disquieting conclusion that the apartment had been designed as a prison.

Sitting on the sofa, she thought about that. It meant the Shrike kept prisoners here, which did not reflect well on his character. She found it strange that he had locked her in here; it did not strike her as the usual quarters for a slave. The rooms seemed to be designed to look like guests' quarters, but to imprison anyone in them.

She jumped as the door opened to admit the Shrike, who glanced around at the disarray her search had caused.

'I trust you've been having fun?'

She glared at him. 'What sort of man keeps his guests in a carefully designed prison?'

'A real guest would never know, since they wouldn't try to escape. But you're not a guest, are you?'

'Then you should have put me in the slave pen, with the rest of your slaves. As for your guests, I pity them. Just because you're a crook, you think everybody else is, too.'

'Most of the people I know are, and they're not the sort I want wandering around my base.'

'So you lock them up.'

He shrugged. 'If they find themselves locked up, it's only because they tried to escape.'

His logic confounded her, and she frowned. 'How long are you going to keep me here? Don't you have any use for me? And if not, why did you buy me? Was I an investment?'

He faced her, and she longed to tear off the mask and see his face, its mystery ate at her. She went on, 'Why don't you sell me again? Make your dirty profit. Perhaps the next person will be more helpful than you and take me home.'

'If you believe that, you're not as smart as I thought you were. Or perhaps you're just naive.'

'Does that reduce my value? I'm not stupid. Others would do it for the reward, ones that don't have a price on their heads. You should sell me while you can, Tallyn will be looking for me.'

He folded his arms and leant against the wall. 'He won't find you.'

'You don't know that. The council will send a search party.'

'What makes you so important to the Atlanteans? Why did they save you and your brother?'

She rose and wandered away, buying time to formulate an answer. Stopping beside a shelf, she fiddled with an ornament. The few moments did not allow her to come up with anything intelligent, so she settled for hostility. 'Wouldn't you like to know? Figure it out for yourself, if you can.'

'Maybe I'll have someone look into it.'

'They won't find out. Only a few people know, and they won't talk.'

'So, it's a big secret, is it?' He pushed himself away from the wall. 'I'll bet Drevina knows. She seems to know everything. And she doesn't usually sell her merchandise herself. I was surprised to see her on Gergonia, at least, at a slave market. She's been to a few of the more unsavoury parties, but she's not a great business woman.'

'She doesn't know anything,' Rayne denied, but he crossed the room towards a blank wall. As he approached, a panel slid aside and a space line screen emerged.

'Okay, I'll tell you,' she blurted, desperate to stop him, and he turned to her. 'We're the last humans. They wanted to save our genetic data for future generations, a sort of legacy. They created us, after all.'

'You're brother and sister.'

'Yes, but our genes can still be used with others, and we were the only ones not mutated or diseased.'

'Not very plausible, I'm afraid. Your genetic data would have been stored in a lab by now, and even if it wasn't, it's not that important. If the Atlanteans are so desperate to find you, they must have a better reason than that.' He faced the screen and activated it, waiting until a link was established and a grey Draycon face filled it.

'Get me Drevina,' he ordered.

Rayne chewed her lip, searching her mind for another lie that would satisfy him, but sensed he would go ahead with his call anyway. She was amazed at how quickly the Draycon woman appeared, wearing a false smile.

'Shrike, how nice to hear from you.'

'Cut the crap, Drevina. Why did the Atlanteans rescue this girl I bought from you today?'

She looked smug. 'You should have found that out before you bought her. Like so many others, you couldn't resist a pretty face, could you?

'I had my reasons for buying her, now tell me why.'

'Kill her, and you won't have to worry about it.'

He shook his head. 'I paid a lot for her. I'm not about to do that.'

'You will when I tell you what she is.'

'So tell me.'

Drevina said, 'She's the Golden Child of Atlantean prophecy, destined to save the Atlantean Empire from ruin. They'll search every corner of this galaxy for her, and when they find her they'll kill you. Kill her or sell her, if you value your life. Why do you think I got rid of her so quickly?'

He broke the connection, banishing her smug visage, and the space line screen slid back into the wall as he turned to Rayne. 'Wonderful. Why did you try to keep it a secret? It's the one thing guaranteed to make me want to get rid of you.'

'Or kill me.'

'No, I'd be more likely to ransom you back to them.'

'Then why don't you? They'll pay it.'

'I'm sure they would, but I have other plans for you. The Atlanteans won't find you that quickly. It's a big galaxy.' He went over to a chair and sank into it. 'Who else knows about this, apart from the Atlanteans?'

'No one, as far as I know, why?'

'It would be inconvenient.'

'So what are you going to do now?'

He shrugged. 'It doesn't change my plans. Things are already in motion, so it's a bit late now. We'll see what happens.'

His evasiveness and mystery angered and frustrated Rayne. Although she could sense little from him in the way of moods, she did not think he was lying. He did not have to, he just told her nothing. An idea struck her, and she stretched forth her fledging telepathy in a clumsy attempt to read his mind. She sensed his thoughts under the surface of his consciousness, a seething cauldron of psychic activity normal for any mind. They were unintelligible to her inexperienced intellect, and she strived to unravel them.

A flash of red pain hit her behind her eyes, as if someone had thrust a hot poker into her brain. She staggered back with a yelp, clutching her temples. Her knees buckled, but the Shrike caught her before she hit the floor,