[Makebelieve] Fic: Mark Of Cain 8

[makebelieve archive]

Mark Of Cain 8
by PEJA


CHAPTER EIGHT



At several inches over six feet tall himself, Ian judged the newcomer
lounging along the tree line to be about that same height, but where Ian was
built along the polished supple lines of a dancer, this man was hard-packed
muscle, sinewed as solid as a top line body builder. Not at all someone he
would have chosen to meet in a grudge match.

Still, for all his obvious strength, the stranger hardly fit the description
of the highly disciplined soldier he had expected either.

Sure and the unwelcome intruder wore the standard uniform among Coalition
colonists, but the brown jumpsuit under a tan, leather jacket was stained
and torn from constant wear. A company man would never dare let his uniform
get into such a slovenly condition.

Even more out of the accepted character of a company man was the way the
stranger's scraggly, mud-brown hair hung in limp, greasy tangles down the
middle of his back. Except for one huge hank that was tangled in a week's
growth of crumb-stained beard.

The unkempt beard, a definite distraction though it might be, did nothing to
disguise the jagged scar that scored his left brow, cutting a path close to
his eye and forking in the middle of his gaunt cheek.

Pushing himself, Ian managed to hurl a ridiculously weak psychic finger
toward the intruder, and covered the impudent read by demanding, "Who the
blazes be ye?"

"A friend," the outsider said, grinning affably. "Maybe." Straightening away
from the tree he'd been leaning a shoulder against, he stalked them on
silent panther's feet, the gun resting in the crook of his arm. "You one of
those weirdos from the Medusa colony?"

Ah Judes, there it was. That blasted isolationist attitude. The bloody fool
probably thought his precious gene stock would be eternally contaminated by
breathing the same air as a freakish Medusan. Wouldn't put it past the damn
heathen to put an old-fashioned bullet in me just in case, Ian reflected,
lifting his hand so his ring caught and reflected the sunlight. "I be
wearing the identifying signet."

"And you supposedly possess the witch's gifts and all the mumbo-jumbo that
goes along with them, I reckon?"

Ian's jade eyes narrowed. "Sure and you reckon correctly."

"In that case, I find the sensation of another entity crawling around in my
head disconcerting. I'd prefer you keep your insignificant ESPer probes out
of my mind."

Ian's grim features split in a wide grin and he held both hands in front of
him, portraying a picture of absolute innocence. "Ye noticed my probe then,
did ye?"

"And I don't appreciate it."

"Apologies," Ian said in tones that announced he was in no way apologetic
about the intrusion. "On my world 'tis considered polite. A casual touching
of souls." he lied. "I fear I can nay seem to get the habit out of me system
now I'm among norms."

The man eyed him coolly for a long second, then his deep brown gaze shifted,
slithering over Arissa as if she were a commodity he was considering
purchasing. "Very nice," he said, finally meeting her flashing black eyes.

"And very much taken," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Why don't you
move on and leave us to our ways? We don't need you taking time out for us,
I assure you."

He smiled, displaying teeth that were saved from perfection by one front
tooth that laid slightly over the second one. "As I was saying, a pretty
little thing like you shouldn't be making promises she can't keep, sweet
lady."

The imperfect smile faded and his voice deepened, growing dangerously soft.
"We occasionally get some mighty objectionable characters roaming around our
woods." His alert glance moved over their weapons and lingered. "You
wouldn't fall into that category now, would you?"

Ian drew his gun with a economic dip of his arm. "Because we be carrying
weapons for protection, ye be worried, is it?" he drawled, then grasping the
gun securely in both hands, he leveled his weapon at the intruder.

The stranger's amber eyes glittered. "Don't do it."

"Hell and I am afraid I can nay oblige your wishes, mate. I be having some
uncommonly valuable people down and in need of my protection against all
comers. I'll be having a very good reason not too lay you down permanent
right now."

The man flashed an oily smile. "I could be with a search and rescue team."

"Armed?" Ian shook his head, grinning. "Looking like ye do? Sure and I do no
belive it."

"Maybe I was stretching a bit," the stranger's smile turned down as he slid
his right hand inside his jacket.

Ian shifted his weight on slightly bent, wide spread legs. "I'd be moving
real easy right about now, laddie."

"No danger." The stranger opened his stained jacket with splayed fingers,
revealing an interior breast pocket. "I'm harmless."

Seeing nothing beyond the more than visible gun of danger, Ian nodded.

"Now don't get itchy," the man said softly. "I'm not on the attack, just
want a smoke." He dug two fingers into the pocket and extracted a thick roll
of tobacco, extending it toward Ian and the others in turn. "You partake, by
any chance?"

Ian shook his head, answering for them all. "I be thinking, 'tis time ye
shoved off, laddie. Let us get on with our business."

"Well now, I surely wish I could do that, but it just ain't gonna happen."

"Mister, 'tis thinking I am ye have a death wish. Donna be making me kill
ye."

The stranger laughed shortly. "Before you do anything quite so unwise, you
might want to take a quick look toward the forest," he told them, rolling
the thick cigar between blunt fingers.

Ian stiffened, suddenly convinced this man had been a decoy used to lull
them into a false security. "Arissa. Domani. Cover him."

With his companions guarding his back, Ian pivoted on his heel, scanning the
rim of the clearing. A dozen armed men stepped from the concealing darkness
of the trees.

"You didn't honestly imagine I'd approach you without some fire power, other
than this little peashoooter, behind me, did you?" the man asked, directing
Ian's grim glance round the rim of the clearing with a wave of his hand.
More heavily armed men stepped out of concealment. "Put your guns away, why
don't you?"

Ian glanced at his companions. "This do no look good."

"Come on now. Be fair. We've got you to rights. Put your weapons away before
we're forced to mess up this pretty garden spot."

Ian shrugged, returning his weapon to its place low on his hip. "We'll be
admitting nay, but we no be wanting any trouble, either."

"See how easy life can be?" The stranger rested his back against a boulder,
smiling grimly. "I'm glad you've decided to be reasonable."

"Is that what we're being?" Arissa demanded, her eyes flashing ebony
hell-fire. "Reasonable?"

"I would certainly hope so," the man said, cocking his head as if in
thought. "See, blood is a major problem on this planet. Upsets the animal
population no end. Actually puts them into a state of frenzy." The deadly
grin sliced his gaunt features. "They're mighty dangerous when the
bloodfever is upon them."

Ian grimaced, baring his teeth. "I told you this was no a nice world, Arissa
lass."

Amber eyes flashed. "If you don't like our little planet, then why come
here? I don't recall the council opening the planet up to off-worlder's."

"We didn't land here by choice," Arissa assured him. "Our cruiser went out
of control. Crashed." She gestured toward the battered ship, drawing their
interrogator's skeptical gaze. "I can assure you, we are not a danger to
you. Or to your planet. We just want to catch an outbound ship and go home."

"So you say... Arissa, was it? But that doesn't account for the facts, does
it?"

"Facts?" Ian asked, silently cursing the vest that prevented him from
getting a decent read off the guarded man.

"Yeah. The facts. You deliberately ignored Central Security when they hailed
your ship," he enumerated, holding up his fingers as he spoke. "You did not
acknowledge their communiques. What is more, you would not divulge your
reasons for approaching the planet."

"The ship...." Ian began.

"Ah, don't." The stranger turned a harsh glare on him, halting the denial.
"Euzkadi is a neutral planet. We keep our neutrality by keeping our noses
out of interplanetary affairs. And we guard our neutrality jealously.

"That means we do not allow unexplained or uninvited visitors to wander
aimlessly across our land. All in all, your actions leave your motives
questionable."

"So ye do be with the security forces, then?" Ian asked sullenly.

"Not exactly, no." The stranger sucked on the dry cigar, his wary glance
creeping slowly over them. "Let's just say I monitor the security channels.
They are an invaluable source of information for a man in my business."

"What business would that be, friend?" Arissa asked.

"Uh-uh." The man shook his head, grinning crookedly. "As I was saying, I
know from listening in today, they disabled your ship by accident. A
properly maintained ship could easily have withstood the traction they
used."

"'Tis right reassuring to be knowing it was no a planned assassination," Ian
drawled contemptuously.

"And deny themselves the anticipated pleasure of your interrogation? Not
very likely."

Frustrated, Ian raked through his unruly auburn curls with both hands.
"Okay, you claim you be no with security and maybe I be willing to take that
on faith."

"Faith? Or a quick mental scan, kid?"

"Whatever. But if you be telling the truth, and that be a mighty big if from
where I'm standing, what business do ye have with us?"

"Can't you figure it out?"

A tense nerve jerked along Ian's jaw. "A wee bit of theft, mayhap? If that
be what you'd planned, I warn you, we have nothing left. And even if we did,
you might very well be finding, outnumbered or not, we be nay such easy
targets as ye might hope."

"I can honestly say I am not at all interested in you're wealth, or lack of
it." The stranger's thoughtful glance crawled over Ian's rigid stance. "You
know, your faith in human nature brings to mind someone I once knew. Or
rather, someone I thought I knew." His eyes went hard as granite. "I
respected the man, but I didn't much like him. Had too many strange quirks.
The worst of which being a ruthless hunger for my job."

Ian's lips curled into a tart smile and he arched his brow mockingly. "A
pity, that. I be assuming I have nay made a life-long friend in you, then?"

The man's barking laugh cut the air like a blade. "Probably not. Still, I do
find you amusing, I will give you that."

"Ah, sure and I can live with that, but I'd still really like to know who ye
be and what business you be having with us. Why do ye no enlighten us?"

The stranger clicked his tongue, disapproving. "Can't do it just yet. You're
answering the questions, remember? Tell you what, though. You divulge what I
want to know, might be I'll feel compelled to give you some answers. Deal?"

Ian shrugged. With over half the crew out of commission, they were caught at
a distinct disadvantage. A last stand would be nothing short of a massacre.

"I'm thinking we could give your way a try," he said grudgingly. "Be asking
your questions."

"There's a good man." The stranger settled down on a large, flat-sided
boulder, crossing his long legs under him. "I suspected you might be
convinced to see things my way once the situation became clear to you."

Lighting the cigar between his teeth, their interrogator pulled heavily on
the fragrant weed, drawing a thick stream of grey smoke into his lungs.

Exhaling, he heaved a sigh of absolute pleasure and waved the cigar toward
them. "It's a nasty habit. Cigars. But it's also the one vice I have no
intention of giving up. Damn the doom-sayers, what?"

Ian exchanged doubtful glances with Arissa and Domani, then shrugging, laced
his arms over his chest, and waited in silence for the man to begin his
questioning.

"Not interested in a spot of idle chatting up to break the ice, I see," The
stranger admonished them with a benign smile. "Ah well, to business, then."
His amber gaze chilled, fixing on Ian. "The predominate question on my mind
is the same one as on everyone else's. That being, what are you doing on
Euzkadi? And spare me the nonsense you've been spouting so far. You're here
for some purpose. Some purpose not at all related to the fact your ship
crashed." He leaned forward over his knee. "Tell the nice man all about it."

Arissa frowned. "You sure sound like Planet Security."

"I have the same questions," the stranger snapped, temper flaring in his
eyes. "Why have you come here? I warn you, answer with care. We don't have a
whole lot of time to practice the niceties. And so far, I haven't seen any
reason not to turn you over to the patrols when they finally do get here.
Use your heads. Convince me."

Ian recognized the truth behind what the stranger was saying. The security
forces would soon be converging on them. If this man was offering them a
chance of slipping past one enemy, they'd be stupid refusing his help.

Always remembering, that is, this self-proclaimed isolationist might be no
better than those ones they were dodging.

Ian gave a tiny shrug. "Truth?"

"No. Lie to me. Give me a reason to turn you over to the patrols with a
clear conscience."

"With those options, I'm thinking we'll be trying the truth. And verily the
truth is we be here searching for someone."

"On Euzkadi?" the man sounded skeptical. "One of The People have been in
contact with you? With off-worlders?"

"Let's just be saying our commander 'tis knowing the man. They lost touch
some time ago." His brooding glance rested on Dalton for a brief moment
before returning to the stranger. "The boss brought us here following a
rumor this man might still be alive."

The stranger froze, suspicion darkening his closed features. "This man your
searching for? He owes a debt?"

"Ye might be saying the commander feels he owes this man something. And the
boss be a man who does nay respond well to being in another man's debt. We
be here so he can finish it."

The stranger's smile belonged to a predatory, jungle cat. "Well see, there's
something I can help you with."

"I nay know where ye be coming from, mate, but I'll willingly hear you out."

"The People are divided into small communities here on Euzkadi. This entire
continent is made up of only three compounds with fewer than five thousand
families to a site. I have strong connections in two of those compounds, and
a minor say in the third. That means I know most everyone of importance on
the planet. And those I don't know, I can find out about in a matter of
hours. See where I'm at now? Perhaps, if you tell me what name he goes by,
and which community he calls his own, I can tell you where this man might be
staying."

"'Tis worth a shot, you think?" Ian asked.

Arissa looked doubtful, but said, "Ever hear of a man called -A Aztore."

"The Falcon?" The stranger said softly, then his deep barking laugh broke
bitterly over them. "The rebel leader, -A Aztore?" he demanded, mocking her.


"Yes."

"Did you hear that? They've come to find Adric Falcone," he called to his
men. "Falcone. Can you believe it?"

Growling through his teeth, Ian dropped his hand onto his holstered gun.
"Sure and I must have missed the joke."

"Easy, kid." The man tipped a pointed nod toward the men along the fringe of
the glen. "It's not worth dying over. Move your hand away. Nice and slow.
That's it. Much better."

He stuffed the smoky-sweet cigar back between his teeth and drew heavily on
it. "Now, this man. -A Aztore? He knows to expect you?"

Domani shook his head. "Not us in particular. We had not yet
been...recruited by the commander when -A Aztore disappeared. But rest
assured, he and our leader are well known to each other. They were, at one
time, associates."

* * * * * * *

Associates?

Could it be his anaia, the brother he'd forged through blood?

The thought brought a rush of anxiety. And of excitement. Could it be
possible? Had Dalton actually arrived? Only to be injured, perhaps
seriously, in some damn stupid accident?

Adric guarded his conflicted emotions as he rose from the boulder. "So, this
Falcone character, this murdering rebel you've come to find, he doesn't
expect you?"

"We have not communicated our intentions of coming here," Domani said.

"No. He does not expect you." The man waved a casual hand toward the
secondary camp. "You mind?"

Before anyone could protest, he sauntered off toward their injured.

"Ian, he shouldn't ...." Arissa cast a nervous glance at their wounded, then
took a step to stop the man.

Ian grabbed her wrist, holding her at his side. "Hey, hold up there, mate,"
he called after the stranger. "I be asking ye nay disturb them."

Intent on learning the truth, Adric flipped his hand, wordlessly dismissing
their concerns as his apprehensive gaze flickered over the pale faces,
searching out one man.

The man who had finally come.

A despairing smile whispered over his lips as he stared down on Dalton's
bruised and battered body. "Which one is this commander of yours?"

"The man at your feet," Domani said.

Adric hunkered down, lifting Dalton's limp hand, and pressed his fingers
tight against the unconscious man's wrist. Blood surged under his searching
fingers, strong and steady.

"Anaia, you will survive," he murmured. suppressing a wild wave of
excitement. "Do you hear me, anaia. You will not die now." Adric lay the
pale hand back across Dalton's slowly rising chest. An anguished sigh parted
his white-lined lips. "Ah, anaia, I can hardly believe my eyes. I can hardly
believe you have finally come. I'd begun to wonder if you planned to leave
me to rot forever on this blessed planet."

"You'll be coming away from him," Ian commanded, rocking restlessly on the
balls of his feet. "Now."

Adric glanced over his shoulder. "I'm not disturbing your commander, boy.
Just checking his condition."

"Domani knows how best to care for Hellequin's crew. He'll be the one
checking the boss. The only one."

"You're a mite touchy about this man, aren't you?" Adric said, recognizing
the nervous tension in Ian's bouncing stance. In how he watched every move,
ready to spring at the slightest provocation.

And the other two would be right behind him.

Too hell with the threat of the nearby patrol.

Yeah, Dalton had found the command he craved, and from the look of it, they
were devoted to the point of death to the remote man.

"It would seem, anaia, you've achieved everything you wanted. Everything you
chaffed over when we were together. It's good to know one of us got what we
wanted in the end, but I wonder if your apparent success has made you any
happier than my numerous disappointments have made me?" He pushed to his
feet and rejoined the three prisoners. "You have risked your lives for a
fool's dream."

Ian frowned. "I do no ken."

"What's so hard to understand? There is nothing keeping you here."

"We came here for Falcone," Arissa protested. "We're not leaving here
without seeing him."

"Oh, but you are." Adric slowly traced his thumb over the scar, saw the
girl's fascination in his scar and instantly recognized the horrified grip
his disfigurement had over her, and smiled. "You see, Adric Falcone is
dead."

"Dead?" Arissa whispered hoarsely, shaking her head. "It can't be. Dalton
was so sure. He'll be devastated."

"He'll get over it."

Storm clouds darkened her ebony eyes. "No. You're wrong. Or lying. Falcone
is alive. He is living on Euzkadi, just like Dalton believes."

Adric's bushy brow lifted sardonically. "You'd bring the dead back to life
to please this commander, this Dalton, of yours?"

"If need be."

"Unfortunately, you can't resurrect the dead, you know? And I assure you,
Adric Falcone is dead. He's been dead and buried for near onto two years."

Arissa's eyes wavered uncertainly, then became steady once more,
challenging. "How can you be so sure?"

"Isn't that rather obvious?"

"To you, maybe. But not to me."

Adric sighed. "I know because I am responsible for his death. Because I
killed Adric Falcone."

"You?" Domani asked skeptically. "You killed -A Atore?"

"I said I did, didn't I?" he snapped, his amber eyes flashing. "I can assure
you, the man you're looking for no longer exists."

He jerked away from them, staring moodily at the twisted wreckage of the
Hellequin, dismissing them from his thoughts.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ian slanted an aggressive glance over the stranger. There was something that
didn't quite ring true about him. Something, that blocked by the vest's
healing rays, Ian could not put his finger on, but that was still strong
enough to leave him feeling bothered, ill at ease.

Hungry for a victim to vent his frustration on, Ian scowled at Domani.
"Cause and effect, be it now? So how come you got it wrong? The chips
slipping, mayhap?"

Domani returned Ian's challenging stare with calm regard. "My calculations
were correct. Although there is a slight either/or gap in -A Aztore's past
immediately after he ejected in the shuttle, I placed his definite arrival
on Euzkadi to within a week. He is here, Ian."

"Dead."

"Alive."

"Sure and ye be certain?"

"Unlike the rest of you, I did know from the beginning why we were coming to
Euzkadi. I would not have condoned this journey if I had any doubts."

"So this man be lying through his crooked teeth."

"I have no doubt."

The stranger turned back abruptly, cutting their dangerous, whispered
conversation short.

"You flew here in that wreck? You put your lives at risk in that ship? On
nothing but the word of this Dalton of yours? Not even knowing if you were
chasing shadows?"

Ian glanced at the Hellequin and shrugged. "'Tis as you say. For Dalton."

The stranger shook his head. "You, kid, are either very brave, or very
stupid. I can't quite make up my mind which."

Ian flashed his charming grin. "If ye be offering a choice, I'll be opting
for amazingly stupid. Truth be known, we be very nearly killed."

"Yes. You were at that," the stranger said, his words carrying a menacing
double meaning. "Still you did survive, didn't you? And you have no safe
haven. No place to hide and heal without fear."

Warning klaxons screamed in Ian's suspicious mind. "If you say so."

Smiling, their unwanted companion opened his arms. "You must let me offer
the hospitality of my compound," he mouthed all the right words, said all
the right things.

The distant chill in his eyes proved his words false.

"I don't know..." Arissa said, shaking her head.

The man's brawny arm imprisoned her slender shoulders. "But I insist." The
frozen bite of steel clung just under the surface of his words.

"We haven't got much as far as the cultural entertainments go, but the place
is warm and the food is passable, if not always entirely palatable."

He nodded his head toward their wounded. "Besides, your friends are in need
of medical attention. I am not bragging when I say I have the best medical
staff on the planet."

"What about Planet Security?" Ian asked, seeking escape from the unwanted
invitation. "Would we no be putting you in danger?"

The man's smile was heavily greased as he slapped Ian on the back, jarring
the younger man's ribs. "Nonsense. I pay plenty for my privacy, but it is
worth it."

Wincing under the receding wave of pain, Ian recognized the jaws of a trap
closing firmly around them, drawing them tighter into the man's silken web.
"Is that no great for you?"

"Isn't it though?" the stranger agreed, staring deeply into Ian's worried
eyes. "Come now, be reasonable. I'm probably your only chance to avoid the
unpleasantness of the security patrols."

"So ye be saying. I be wondering, though, why I get a real jumpy feeling
when you ask me to be reasonable?"

"Does it matter? When all is said and done, you will come back with me,
because you have no other choice. And your people will recover among my
troops. We'll see them back to health. Right? And when you are ready, I'll
find you safe transport off Euzkadi. Transport the security forces will
never think to suspect."

Ian glanced at the armed men waiting not very far away. They were not being
given any choice. That much was obvious. They would accompany the stranger.
Be it as guests, or prisoners, the end result would be the same.

The only uncertainty was just what condition they would be leaving in.

Ian shrugged. "'Tis sounding like a plan."

But a bad plan was still no plan at all.



end part 8


-- 
PEJA
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