Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [30]
They stripped the female guard of her body armor and left her vulnerable. The effects of the stunner had worn off completely by the time they raised their assassination knives.
“I ask again, Zan’nh—do you yield?” Rusa’h said. “Do you surrender these warliners to my cause?”
“I cannot.” He struggled to find steel within him. “You must not have access to—”
The Hyrillka Designate nodded, and his followers once again stabbed and slashed. The female guard gurgled as she bled to death; her body fell beside the first victim on the deck.
Each death tortured him like a red-hot needle in the eye. Zan’nh felt the screaming response resounding through the thism. He felt her die.
“How many more bodies must you pile up, Adar? You know you will surrender eventually. How many more useless executions will you face?”
“We will defeat you,” Zan’nh said through clenched teeth. “And each murder adds to the list of your crimes.”
“My crimes are as nothing. The false Imperator Jora’h will also face judgment for leading the Ildiran people astray.”
Privately, Zan’nh transmitted a plea to the other commanders aboard the remaining warliners. He still had not heard from Qul Fan’nh, or Thor’h. “I want solutions, ideas. Does anyone have suggestions?”
When Zan’nh was younger, Adar Kori’nh had led him in military drills using human war-game scenarios to see how Ildirans responded to changed situations. Zan’nh had been promoted because of his innovation. But now viable ideas eluded him. He could not think what to do. “Can we flood the compartment with an anesthetizing gas?”
“We could rig that, Adar,” said one of his engineers, “but the airflow modifications would take longer than cutting through the door itself. We’re making progress, but not quickly enough. We don’t have that long. The Hyrillka Designate is not leaving us the time we need.”
“He knows that. It is why he forces the issue at such an impossible pace.”
Much too soon, Rusa’h said, “Three minutes have passed again, Adar.” He raised his hand. Though Zan’nh begged him to wait, to negotiate, the Designate ordered the murder of a third helpless member of the reception committee.
“What are we to do?” the engineer asked. “We could open the outer hatch and shut down the atmosphere field. That would kill the Designate and his followers, end this standoff—”
Zan’nh interrupted. “And all of the hostages. I’m not willing to accept that solution. Find me another one.”
Two of Rusa’h’s steely-eyed pleasure mates wrestled a fourth victim forward. In their shapely arms the women held a groggy guard captain who had been hit with two stun-beams. One of the wickedly smiling pleasure mates held her crystal knife to the guard’s throat, touching the point to his thick skin.
“Look at this man, Adar,” Rusa’h said, sounding very sincere. “You hold his life right now. Your next decision will result in his death, or his freedom.”
“I will not accept the blame for this insane behavior!”
“Less than a minute remaining.” Rusa’h acted as if he had all the time in the world. “I ask again: Do you surrender your maniple?”
“Tell me what you have done on Hyrillka! Why do you need these warships? The Solar Navy has always defended your planet. What is the purpose of—”
“I would be happy to explain myself later, but I’ve given you my terms. Your time has run out once again. I will not tolerate your stalling while you search for a way to stop me.” He gestured, and the pleasure mate rammed her knife under the guard’s chin and up into his brain. He fell without a gasp, his eyes cold even as they dimmed in death.
Another resounding jolt tore through the thism. Zan’nh bit back an outcry as lances of pain shot into his mind.
Unexpectedly, the voice of Prime Designate Thor’h came over the channel. “Uncle, my brother needs a greater incentive. He still does not understand how far we will go.”
To his dismay, on the screen Zan’nh saw his brother surrounded by traitorous guards in the command nucleus of Qul Fan’nh’s warliner. Around them, splatters of blood and tumbled bodies of soldiers lay on the deck.
He felt sickened.