Dark Matters_ Ghost Dance (Book 2) - Christie Golden [13]
The end of things.
The end of everything.
The Entity was in torment, wondering what it could possibly do to stop so great an evil with so vast a reach.
At once the images changed. The Entity was made aware of planet systems, of sentient beings, of vast clusters of something that was once natural and harmless turned into an instrument of destruction.
It understood what the Presence wanted, and why it wanted it. And the Entity agreed to lend its aid.
CHAPTER 4
"YOU'RE AN INTERCEPTOR, SHAMRAA EZBAI REMILKAN-suur," growled the Implementer. "That means you are supposed to intercept."
Ezbai's face was expressionless. "I understand the duties of my position, sir."
"Apparently, you do not. What were you doing while two alien life-forms manifested in Culilann territory? Puttering in the garden? Painting a picture?" Scorn dripped from the Implementer's words. His face was flushed deep blue with rage. For a brief, angry moment, Ezbai hoped he'd have a seizure and keel over. Anything to stop this so-called interview that was actually more of a mental torture session.
Ezbai and his whole family had, in fact, been otherwise engaged at the time when the aliens had appeared. His sister Khala had been seated at the table on one of her rare visits home when a strange light had exploded from nowhere. By the time they could see again, Khala had vanished.
He had reported it at once, of course. Within moments, teams had arrived at the domicile, sweeping with information recorders, taking gauges of radiation, looking for any signs of alien intervention. They had found nothing. Khala had been there, and then she had not.
They buzzed about abductions, transportation devices, off-world kidnappers who looked for slaves to trade. Ezbai had done what pathetically little he could to calm his wild, grief-stricken, elderly parents. The teams sent by the Order did nothing to help. There had been the insistent chirping of his communications console, but he had ignored it. He found out only when he entered this office ten clicks ago that it had been an alien intruder alert in Section 40329- Ezbai's section. And Ezbai was an interceptor.
And now here was the head of the Order, the fat and rude Implementer, calling him a gardener or a painter. Ezbai's attention had lapsed, perhaps, but surely the circumstances were understandable. There was no need for such insults.
"You know very well what I was occupied with at that time, Implementer." Ezbai's voice was carefully controlled. "My sister disappeared, and-"
"And there were teams taking care of the incident," retorted the Implementer. Standing on his feet and raging at Ezbai was exhausting him, so he sank
back into his chair and popped an articrunch into his mouth. His jowls shook as he chewed. Ezbai fought the urge to leap up and throttle his superior. He consoled himself with the knowledge that his fingers probably couldn't tighten sufficiently around the thick neck to do the job.
"They were going about their business, Shamraa Ezbai. You should have been about yours. Do you know that by this time the aliens are well into the Ordeal? Barbaric custom, that. Makes my skin prickle just to think about it. No food, no water, just prayers." He shuddered and reached for a fistful of the artificially manufactured crispy treats. "They're lucky to be alive."
That last line revived Ezbai. "They're still alive? Your report said that they were gravely injured."
The Implementer frowned. "What did I just say? Our spy reports that they are still alive, though of course the Culilann haven't done anything to dress their wounds. The Culil authorized feeding the aliens fruit from