Prophecy

'I hope you're right, but it'll be hard to keep Rayne quiet.'

Tallyn frowned at him. 'Let's hope she doesn't annoy him too much. He's a killer.'

Rayne stared at the door, her thoughts and emotions in turmoil. Part of her longed to join him on the bridge and ask him the many questions that bred in her mind, another part knew the answers would probably be lies, if she got any at all. A voice in the back of her mind shouted that she should stay out of his way and hope he really meant to release her, while the young, naive part of her insisted that he would make a powerful friend, and should be cultivated.

In her confused state of indecision, she was unaware of how swiftly time passed until the door opened again, revealing the empty corridor. At this invitation she rose and went to the bridge, where the Shrike sat in the pilot's chair, staring out at the stars. A blue planet, mottled with white clouds and green land masses, shone like a jewel in the blackness.

The Shrike turned his head. 'We're here. Octovar One.'

'So,' she murmured, her voice quivering a little, 'You really mean to release me.'

'I'm not that much of a liar.'

'But you are one.'

He shrugged. 'I have to spin the occasional yarn. Now, I don't have much time. Are you ready?'

Rayne experienced a strange pang of sadness, and wondered at it. In all likelihood, she would never meet him again, which was a good thing, yet she regretted it. She longed to ask him what would have happened if she had not been the Golden Child. What he would have done with her if she had just been another slave? The possible answers made her shudder, but she had no time to ponder the question further. He stood up, facing her.

'Are you ready?' he repeated.

'Yes. I – I'm grateful to you.'

'Don't be. I'm not your friend, nor am I some sort of romantic figure out of one of your cheap novels or fairy tales. Reality is harsh, so forget about me and get on with your life.'

As she cursed her unguarded musings, he turned away and addressed the ship. 'Activate the transfer Net, and place our guest on the surface, in the principal city.'

Rayne raised a hand in a belated gesture of farewell as the golden shimmer engulfed her, then the energy shell dispersed, and she stood on a bright, clean street beneath a clear blue sky. Atlanteans, dressed in their preferred loose, colourful garments, wandered past, some glancing at her. Gravcars swept by above and beside her, skywalks arched overhead, linking towering buildings. She made her way to a public bench in a patch of red and green flora and sank onto it, her legs shaking. Fortunately, the air was warm and calm, for she still wore the dress he had given her, which offered little protection from the elements.

An hour later, Tallyn and Rawn transferred in, and she ran into her brother's arms. Even as they embraced, the energy shell engulfed them once more, and she was back aboard Vengeance.

The Shrike gazed at the stars, his chin resting on his hand. He had removed the mask to rub his face, relieving a persistent itch on his cheek. Stripping off his gloves as well, he tossed them onto a console, where the mask stared accusingly at him. He studied his hands, remembering how she had scrutinised one so closely, and the touch of her fingers. No one had touched his skin for fifty years. Not while he was conscious, at any rate. Doctors had tended him after the many attempts on his life, but he had been unaware at the time. She was so young, and so innocent. Her touch had been like fire. He rubbed his wrist, pushing up his sleeve to gaze at the scars around it as he remembered what had made them so long ago.

Octovar One was two light years behind him, and he had dropped out of the Net to relax and ponder his hasty decisions. Releasing the human girl had been the right thing to do. He had no problem with that, whether or not she was the Golden Child. The Draycon Empire, however, would find out about her continued existence, and Drevina would seek to kill her again unless someone stopped her. The Atlanteans' laws forbade them from using violence except in self-defence, a fatal flaw in their culture, in his opinion. He ran a hand through his hair and stretched.

'Shadowen, what's the probability that this Atlantean legend is true, and Rayne is the Golden Child?'

'The human female who accompanied you earlier?' At Tarke's nod, the ship went on, 'I would say slim, if not for some recent data collected from the Atlantean space net. Apparently, on a trip to her former home world, Vengeance encountered a mysterious ship that claimed to be the Golden Child's guide. The ship was huge, and immune to the Atlanteans' weapons. It also used the transfer Net to leave the area instantaneously.'

'It used the Net to make a complete transfer?'

'Correct.'

Tarke frowned at the winking crystals before him. 'Are you sure?'

'I am sure that is what the Atlantean space net’s information said, yes.'

'You know the legend of the Golden Child, don't you?'

'Just as you do.'

'Refresh my memory.' Tarke laced his fingers and settled back.

'Translated into simple language, the legend says that at a certain time, the Atlanteans must save a golden girl child from a dying planet. She will, apparently, be able to avert a terrible catastrophe that will otherwise befall the Empire, and save it. This is not only an Atlantean legend, however, the Draycons have it too, but in their version, they must kill the Golden Child in order to rule the Atlantean Empire.'

'But there's no mention of this strange ship in either of them?'

'No.'

'So, the Draycons will soon find out she's still alive, and Atlan's protection is pretty shoddy,' Tarke mused. 'If Atlan falls, I'll be next on Drevina's extermination list. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to take out some insurance. What would happen if Drevina and her brother were to die suddenly?'

'They have no true heirs. By Drayconar tradition, she must bear her brother's twins. Drevina has a child by another male, but he's not considered a true heir. Draycon would be plunged into chaos, even civil war.'

Tarke rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowed. 'That might be a good thing.' He sighed. 'I want the Drayconar battle cruiser Norron destroyed. Send out the order.'

'This will focus Atlan's attention even more on you.'

He shrugged. 'So be it.'

'You have no idea what monster might emerge at the head of the Drayconar Empire. You might make it worse. And if the Draycons find out who killed their Empress, there would be reprisals.'

'Then there must be no survivors. I have a feeling that by the time the Draycons sort themselves out and kill off all but one potential leader, whatever catastrophe is coming to Atlan will have run its course. It will prevent the Draycons from interfering any further in the prophecy. I have no love for Atlanteans, but at least they keep the Draycons quiet. Send the order.'

Rayne sat back and rubbed her temples, switching off the data screen with a flick of her thoughts. Weariness tugged at her eyelids, but she forced herself to stretch and rise to wander over and gaze out at the soft rain that soaked the land outside. Since her return to Atlan three months ago, a great many things had happened. The beacon in her brain had been deactivated at her insistence, much to Rawn's delight. Tallyn had argued against it, but her status now allowed her to make certain demands, which the Atlanteans were obliged to fulfil in order to keep her good will. She had been questioned about her time with the Shrike, and had answered all the questions honestly.

They did not ask for his true name, and she did not offer it, so it remained her secret. Drevina's murderous plot would have earned her a severe reprimand from the Atlantean Council, and perhaps even a token visit by a warship, had she lived long enough. The debris of her ship, Norron, had been discovered in an asteroid belt not far from Drevga B, a Brentar mining colony. The Draycons had threatened the peaceful Brentar with retribution, then Atlan, before turning on each other. A bloody civil war now raged on Amranon and Periabel, the two principal Drayconar planets.

Soon after her return, she and Rawn had been taught to use their cyber implants, gaining easy access to all the Atlantean machines and data links. Whereas before they had to view the data via a screen, or listen to it, now they used a sensor pad and allowed the information to stream directly into their minds, accompanied by images and sensations, where necessary. They had also been allocated their own dwelling, and Rawn had started dating a low