LEVIATHAN - Rob Astor (fantasy books to read .txt) 📗

makes them very valuable. To my knowledge, they are only mined in ancient asteroid swarms.”
“And, it’s looking as if the Marauders are holed up in one,” Kolt said. “I can transfer all the intelligence to you. Will you be staying here on Marineau?”
“No, we’re headed to Tau Ceti,” Gunnar said.
“Ah yes, planet Ondurok,” Wexam mused.
“Contact Admiral McMurrary when you get there.” Gunnar nodded. Kolt and his men stood. “Viceroy.”
“Thank you for being here this morning, Lieutenant General.”
The Federation Officers exited the suite. Evan looked at Wexam’s aged face. “Viceroy. May I ask you something?”
Wexam smiled. “You kept me alive. I will talk to you about anything you wish.”
“Those numbers on your arm…” Wexam’s face paled to a yellowish hue. “I saw them once before, on another Eusian. He got mad when I asked what they were. Will you tell me?”
Wexam lowered his head, sighing deeply. He raised himself up and smiled. “Truly wonderful are the innocent,” he said to Gunnar. Then he smiled at Evan. “Always full of curiosity.” The Viceroy pulled his sleeve completely up. “I am afraid what I have to say is a very bad bedtime story. These numbers… They are used for identification purposes. In places where it is convenient for no one to remember your name.”
Wexam stood, leaning on his scepter. He walked over to the window. “There is a great suffering, and an even greater injustice being inflicted upon my people. In the last two decades, millions of Eusians along the border territories have been captured and enslaved.” Evan and Gunnar exchanged nervous glances. “I was one of them once. Taken from my home during a night raid. Stashed inside the cargo hold of a livestock transport. That’s what we called them, you see. We weren’t shown kindness or extended any dignities. We were animals. And treated as such.”
The Viceroy turned from his window, making his way over behind the davenport where Evan and Gunnar sat. “All of us went through processing centers. They stole our lives, but, they didn’t take our names. No. They branded us with hot steel, leaving these marks on us. These,” he clenched his fist, “these were our new names. Now we were their property.”
Slowly, Wexam paced. “I was taken to an asteroid mining camp. We dug eighteen hours every day searching for those precious red diamonds. Blood diamonds they call them, because of their color. Fitting description considering how many have perished. There was little food or water. We fought over scraps. So many injuries. So much sickness. Slaves dropped where they worked, the life going right out of them. Eventually, they took us to a hospital. At least, that is what they called it. It was located in the star system we call Blaiku. In the old tongue, Blaiku means ‘destruction’. It wasn’t a hospital, of course. No. It was a great big freezer. Many of my friends died there, calling out for mercy until their voices got too weak from the cold. The Butcher of Blaiku slaughtered thousands upon thousands of nameless Eusians. I waited for my end. I dreaded every day my eyes opened. I forgot what it was like to live without constant fear over my shoulder. You see, there was no hope. We all knew we were going to die. It was just a matter of time.”
Taking a breath, the Viceroy eased himself back into his chair. “One day, a ship showed up. Some of us overpowered the crew. We escaped.”
“You were the lucky ones,” Evan said.
“No.” Wexam lowered his head, shaking it. “The fortunate were those who perished.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
He smiled at Evan. “Age has a way of making you look at life differently, my boy. You will understand. In time. I am not so lucky, as you say. No. I carry the memories inside of me every day I draw breath.” The Viceroy tapped his chest. “I carry deep regret that I was unable to help any of the others who were left behind.” His hand rested over his heart.
“That gives me more incentive to stop those pirate bastards,” Gunnar growled.
“Pirates?” Wexam said. “You misunderstand me, young man.”
“Viceroy?”
“I was not talking about pirates.” Wexam raised an index finger. “There are some things my government does not want to come to light just yet. This is one of them. It is feared the Federation will twist this information around and use it as an excuse for pre-emptive strikes against us.”
“Why would the Federation consider that?” Gunnar asked.
“That man, the Butcher of Blaiku, he is a Federation named Bolton Archer.”
Evan’s face paled. Gunnar’s blood ran cold.
“There are those of us who want to shut those camps down when we can find them. But, we cannot risk war with the Federation.”
“Archer’s head of The Marauders.”
“Not twenty year years ago,” Wexam said. “And even to this day, he is working with someone within the Federation. This we know. We do not know who.” The Viceroy folded his scaly hands and brought his index fingers up to his lips. “The Eusian Matriarch does not wish to bring dishonor to the whole F.F.P. No. She is wise enough to understand that all of your people are not aware of this atrocity; this plight of ours. It is not the fault of the people for these rogue actions of military miscreants. She just wants to put an end to the madness.”
“Count us in,” Gunnar said.
* * *
Bags strapped over his back, Gunnar looked up at the docking platform numbers and checked a plastic card in his left hand. “Yep. This is it.” He turned to Evan, setting his bags near the boarding ramp of their shuttle transport. Evan stopped next to the railing, setting his bags down, rubbing his right shoulder. Gunnar looked at his watch. “Still got a few minutes. You want anything to eat or drink before we go?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Evan? Evan?” He and Gunnar looked at nearby passengers. “Evan!” Tash came jogging up. She looked different wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with her long hair in a pony tail. Tash gave Evan a quick hug. “I’m so glad I found you before you left.”
“How did you find us?” Gunnar asked.
“My mom asked the Port Authority.” She glanced over to the side. A short woman with long brown hair wearing a light blue skirt and blazer smiled at them. She held her hand up in greeting.
Gunnar smiled and nodded. “Evan, I’m gonna go over and say hello.”
“I heard the news about your dad,” Tash said. Her eyes clouded. Tash’s voice caught in her throat. “I’m so sorry.”
Evan managed a nod, looking down at the metal walkway.
Tash wiped a tear from her eyes. “Listen…” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t come down here to get all mushy on you and stuff. My mom wanted to ask you guys to stay with us.”
“Uncle Gunnar and me got some work to do for the Feds.”
Tash nodded. “Well, be careful.” Evan nodded. She bounced on her heels. “You think you’ll come back this way soon?”
Evan shrugged. “Never know in this business. I still got your number.”
“And you better use it,” Tash waggled her index finger at him. “If I find out you passed through and didn’t come by to say hi, I’d have to pull all your limbs outta their sockets.” They laughed again and embraced.
* * *
The woman smiled as Gunnar approached. “Hi, Gunnar. It’s been way too long.”
“Lillian,” Gunnar smiled. “It’s good to see you.”
“You know you’re welcome to stay here with us.”
“Duty calls.”
“But, it’s so dangerous for a boy Evan’s age.” Gunnar nodded. “Being a Spacer is a really tough life. He could stay and get a proper education.”
“Raven always wanted me to care for Evan, you know that.” Lillian nodded, folding her hands in front of her. “Besides, this whole mess will be taken care of soon enough,” Gunnar said.
“It’s all I can do to keep a straight face in front of Tash.”
“She doesn’t know about--”
“She knows a few things.” Lillian glanced over at her daughter. “She’s keeping up a strong front, too.” Lillian gazed into Gunnar’s eyes. “It would kill me if anything happened to Evan. Promise me you’ll keep him safe.”
Gunnar nodded slightly. “You have my word. And don’t worry. We’ll get together real soon. Take care.” He patted Lillian’s arm. Lillian smiled, her gaze drifting over to Evan.
* * *
Yellow and orange suns hung high in the sky, baking parched land. The azure was devoid of clouds, as arid as the sand below. Artificial globe-like structures of limestone and glass sat on the outskirts of a large city capped with a dome of diamond-shaped panels of glass and crystal. Basking in the sun, Eusians relaxed naked on rectangular rocks. Some sipped tall drinks and rubbed oils into their scales.
Jagged white lightning slashed across the wide open blue. The huge, blocky rectangular of a Federation Destroyer loomed into view, casting a dark shadow over the resort. Eusians stood, gawking at the mammoth ship.
A wall of sand rushed toward the area, propelled by a loud blast of sound. It rolled through, an unstoppable shockwave tossing transports and other loose vehicles through the air in a whirlwind. Glass windows shattered in the wake of the wave. People struck by it went tumbling through the air. The ground below the leading edge of the Destroyer was scoured, swept clean.
Swoop Jets dipped out of the Destroyer’s main hanger, twisting and turning erratically toward the city. Missiles punched holes in the main dome, granting the raiders passage. Rail gun fire from the Destroyer quickly tore apart the protective shell.
Fiery explosions ripped through the heart of hexagonal city blocks. Eusians ran, ducking for cover under large stone overhangs. Globe buildings exploded in fantastic flashes of orange. Fiery glass and stone fragments rained down like napalm on everything.
The leading edge of the destroyer plowed through the opening in the main city dome. Like a bullet passing through an eggshell, the warship wasn’t to be stopped. Lumbering to the city’s center, breaking thrusters fired, shattering any remaining glass. Cargo transports dropped out of the main hanger, settling down on streets and in parks.
Bolton Archer exited the first transport, holding a machine gun in each hand. He was followed by a squad of his men, dressed in standard gray Federation uniforms. Bolton fired rounds into the air as he strolled up to a group of cowering Eusians. “Get in that ship, you filthy lizard maggots!” he said. He shot at the ground around them. They ran for cover under another stone overhang. Bolton shot a few of the nearest Eusians. Metallic squealing escaped writhing bodies. “I hate repeating myself. Now, get in that