“Fill her belly quick, Kelly, my little man.” Several bottles of wine tried to climb back up Kelly’s throat. “Don’t worry Kel. You need any pointers, I’ll provide them. I’m told I’m very good.” He winked at his wives.

Now Kelly really wanted to puke. Yeah, you’re a real champion at rape. Several people in the crowd swiveled nervously to look at him. So strong had been the emotion, it had punched right through their shields. Yeah, be uncomfortable, you fucking hypocrites. You’re supposed to be so fucking shocked by sexual violence, but Blaise is conquering the planet for you, so you can wink at an inconvenient little rape along the way. Psychopathic rapist. Sociopathic rapist. Crazy motherfucker!

The wedding party wove its way through the geometric maze of the catacombs. They had just reached the wide stone staircase when Kelly became aware of a nobleman easing forward like a racehorse nosing through the pack at the finish line.

The surface thoughts bubbling off the man were those of hunger, stiff legs from standing in the cold so long, a need to pee. But… Kelly kept his eyes on that elegant figure closing behind Blaise.

With a shout Kelly threw himself on the man’s back. The sudden assault knocked him off his feet, and he went down. The tip of a knife scraped across the floor. Kelly wanted to vomit. It had been extruded from the man’s wrist. Wriggling like a snake, the assassin shifted positions. Kelly was now beneath him. The whole scene was ratcheting past like a broken movie film. The knife sliding another inch out of the arm, the point descending. Kelly snatched desperately for the hand and caught it, then immediately felt his fingers slipping in the blood that coated the man’s wrist.

He closed his eyes, and then the weight was suddenly plucked off his chest. Kelly risked a look. Durg was holding the now-limp body of the assassin. The other members of the wedding party were all bristling with drawn weapons. Sekal holstered his pistol and snapped his fingers. Durg dropped the man and kicked him toward Sekal.

“Diverous, help me examine him.”

Diverous joined Sekal, and they knelt by the unconscious man. Kelly rolled over and vomited up stale wine. Mon’aella grabbed him beneath the armpits and hauled him to his feet. For the first time Kelly risked a glance at Blaise.

The young man had that look. Tendons in the neck stretched tight, face gone white, the pupils of the dark eyes gone wide. Entire body shaking with suppressed fury. It had sent jumpers scuttling for cover out on the Rox, for when the storm did break, people got hurt. Kelly knew, he remembered that day on the balloon. This time it wasn’t turned on Kelly.

Breathing in sharp pants, Blaise forced out, “Who?”

“Alaa,” Sekal answered.

“I thought you said nobody could get an assassin past your security!” This was screamed into Durg’s face.

The Morakh remained impassive. Mon’aella crossed to the fallen assassin, knelt, and touched his temple.

Sekal shook his head. “They must have kidnapped Jild. There’s evidence of reconstructive surgery.”

“But the mind,” Blaise pressed. “You fucking knew this guy. You must be in on it.” Sekal blanched and staggered to his feet.

Mon’aella shook back her hair. The diamonds braided into the red-and-white locks rang like ice bells. “They stole more than Jild’s appearance. He’s a soul eater.”

“What the fuck is that?” Blaise demanded.

“A mind control so powerful it becomes more like a mind drain. You take on the other personality – voice timbre, gestures, memories, everything. The strain on mind and body is profound. Soul eaters don’t last long.”

“We will retaliate, Raiyis,” Diverous said, overeager because he had been spared Blaise’s wrath.

“You’re damn right we will,” Blaise said. He looked to Durg. “Alaa, they had that big moon base on Fel’k, right?”

“Yes.”

“Nuke it.”

“What?” Diverous gasped.

Blaise ignored him, stressing instead to Durg, “Destroy it.”

“My lord,” Sekal said. “There are many thousand people living there.” Even this most loyal of loyal followers was shaken.

“I know. But nobody fucking tries to kill me!” Blaise suddenly screamed.

“We will retaliate, and we will not fail. Ruek of House Alaa will die,” Durg said, trying to penetrate the killing rage.

“You’re damn right you won’t fail. You’ll destroy that base!” Blaise was still shouting.

“My lord, that is not our way,” Durg said, his voice low and tight.

“That’s because it isn’t done your way anymore, it’s done my way. Mine! Do you understand me? Now do as you’re told, or I’ll have you killed too!”

Blaise whirled and stormed away up the stairs, his guards trotting to keep pace. Sekal, Diverous, and several others of the cabal who had assisted Blaise to power gathered in a tight huddle. Their anxiety penetrated Kelly’s shields.

Now do you see what you’ve done, the bogus prince thought bitterly. War is great, but genocide’s kind of a bitch, ain’t it?

Mon’aella released a held breath in a sharp little puff. “Well, that’s gratitude. Not even a thank you to you,” she said, glancing over at Kelly.

Kelly chewed on bile. Shook his head. “I’m just as glad he didn’t notice me.” He pictured again all those pretty little bubbles on the surface of Fel’k exploding, collapsing in flames. Tears stung his eyes. “Oh God, what have I done?”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Jesus Christ!” Jay Ackroyd exploded. “Doesn’t it ever run down?”

Hastet shifted the screaming infant to her other shoulder and resumed patting. “She’s unhappy.”

“So am I… I have to listen to her.”

“I’m doing the best I can!” Hastet was on the verge of tears. Haupi, sensing her mistress’s distress, huddled closer to Hastet’s side. The creature seemed to share Jay’s sentiments on wailing babies. She kept weaving her head and mock striking at the swaddled noisy bundle.

“Well, what the fuck’s wrong with her?”

“She’s a telepath. She’s been separated from her mother. I can hold her body, but I cannot touch her mind. She’s angry and frightened.”

Another drawback to this telepathy shit. Jay sighed. “Is she eating?”

“Some.”

“Gimme the bottle.”

Jay stood up and almost cracked his head on the low ceiling of the compartment aboard the Ilkala-to-Alaak maglev train. Groping in his case, he emerged triumphant with a hip flask. Opening the bottle was another matter. The self-heating element sparked, and burned his fingertips. Cursing, he sucked at his fingers, then resumed his struggles. The nippled top came off, and Jay poured in a splash of potent Takisian brandy.

“Here. I suppose it’s more humane than hitting her over the head with a bat.”

Hastet teased the nipple across the baby’s mouth. Illyana screamed louder, then took a tentative suck. Another. Then the sound of contented nursing filled the compartment.

“Yep, that’s Tachyon’s kid.”

“The prince will never forgive me.”

“What the prince don’t know won’t hurt her… er, him.” Jay peered out the window. Saw dark. “Look, now that the ground sloth has quieted down, I’m gonna cut down to the diner and get us something to eat. Okay?”

“Yes, fine.” She never even looked up. Her total focus was on the baby. “Sleep, kuket, sleep.”

Shaking his head over the power of biology, Jay slid open the compartment door and made his swaying way down the narrow corridor. Takisians tended to be gregarious people: They enjoyed conversation as much as their food, music, dancing, and fighting. So when Jay walked into an absolutely silent refreshment car, he knew some serious shit had hit the proverbial fan. The holostage was on, and a news anchor was reporting in portentous tones about casualties estimated to be at six thousand. A low moan swept through the crowd.

“What’s happened?” Jay whispered to a man leaning against the wall near the door.