23 The Black Bag Strikes Again
THE BLACK BAG STRIKES AGAIN
I CAME TO lying on my back on the sand. The sound of breaking surf and the scent of saltwater and palm fronds revealed that my abductors had dumped me on the beach.
I reached up to yank the bag from my head, but by the time I’d untangled myself and gotten to my feet, my captors were long gone.
I glared into the shadows beneath the palm trees, looking for a foe to accuse, but they were well and truly hidden.
My captors had released me near the waterfront revel, a dozen yards outside the curtain of light.
Briefly, I wondered how intruders could have gotten so close to the Emperor, but the answer was obvious – my kidnappers were invited attendants at the conference.
No one could set foot on this moon without the Emperor’s security service knowing who they were, which meant this was a faction within the Imperial nobility.
Fury clouded my judgment. I could see Astrid far across the sunset-hued beach, in the center of the revel. My eyes set on her, I began making a beeline for the Emperor.
“Halt! Stand and identify thyself,” a rough voice shouted in thickly accented Commonwealth Basic. I stopped immediately, slowly raising my hands with fingers outstretched.
“I am Levar Boylan, Sky Captain of Her Majesty’s Royal Cavalry, Slayer of Prince Kerensky, Count Petrokov, and Count Gretsky, Consort to the Emperor,” I declared as I slowly turned to face my accuser. She was an Imperial guard, about nine feet in height, a zeroblade swordstaff leveled at my chest.
“Not likely,” she replied in Imperial. “The Consort belongs at the Emperor’s side, not skulking in the jungles beyond the party boundaries.”
“Damn it, I didn’t choose to go, I was taken. Now bring me to your Emperor this instant, or I’ll tell her it was you who kept me from delivering her vital news,” I raged.
The guard did not hesitate. “And take an assassin to within striking distance of my Emperor? I think not. You shall come with me.”
My heart began to sink into my stomach, but before I could think of a reply, a familiar voice spoke up behind me.
“I vouch for this man’s veracity, guardsman. He is who he says he is.”
The guard immediately put up her swordstaff. “Yes, Champion.”
“I commend your vigilance, but be about your patrol. I take responsibility for the Consort’s safety.” The guard saluted, then turned and began a slow, measured march away from us along the lighted region’s shadowed edge.
I turned about to face Ankhelina. “I must say, I’ve never been happier to see you.”
Ankhelina responded with a fearsome scowl. “You fool, you should know better than to wander unsupervised in this uncertain company.”
Angrily, I repeated the retort I’d given the guard. “I did not plan to leave. I was taken.”
“Yes, that Federation woman positively dragged you away by your thumbs,” Ankhelina replied.
I blushed. “It wasn’t like that. I was taken afterwards.”
Ankhelina’s eyes flashed. “I did not realize you had so many sexual conquests in one evening.”
“Damn your eyes, I was black-bagged by Imperial nobles, not seducing strumpets in the seafoam,” I shouted.
For the first time, Ankhelina looked concerned for my welfare, her eyes quickly flicking over my frame. “Were you harmed?”
“A few bruises, but nothing irreparable,” I replied.
“Good. Then we need to talk.” Her eyes rose to someone behind me, and she nodded. I started to turn around, but before I could so much as incline my head, another black bag fell over it.
“Damn it all, I just did this,” I shouted helplessly as a pair of giant hands slung me over a muscular shoulder and began bouncing me towards a location unknown.
Once again, I was restrained to a chair, but this time the chair was padded, and the restraints were cloth, not metal. Despite the improved comfort of my situation, I was still firmly bound and unable to escape when the bag was pulled from my head.
This pack of kidnappers was less professional than the last band.
There were no blinding lights, no deafening sonic attacks.
I was able to look around, take in my surroundings.
Judging by the shimmering walls and the fine carpet beneath my feet, we were in the Crystal Palace, but not in a room I recognized.
The lights were out, but no room in the Crystal Palace was truly dark – the walls reflected too much illumination.
Thus, the faces of my kidnappers, who doubtless wished to remain shrouded in shadow, were clearly revealed to me.
I did not recognize most of my kidnappers, but I did my best to memorize their faces. One of them, I realized, was Count Zukov, the trainer of heroes. Most importantly, though, Ankhelina stood immediately before me, making no effort to hide.
When I spoke, the calmness of my voice surprised even me. “Champion. What a surprise. If you wanted to borrow me for yourself, I’m certain you could have asked your Emperor.”
Ankhelina scowled, but instead of speaking to me, she addressed the demons around me. “See what I mean? He is always on the lookout for his next dalliance.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Zukov replied. “He’s trying to put you off-balance.”
“Actually, I was hoping to bring balance to the situation, and maybe some sense,” I said.
Ankhelina growled. “Your involvement with our Emperor makes no sense. All you could do to restore sense would be to remove yourself from this venue.”
I laughed at the absurdity of her statement. “This whole party makes no sense. A twelve-year jubilee with one’s enemies when you’re at war, mere days after a war-winning breakthrough? What’s really going on?”
“We’re asking the questions here,” Ankhelina yelled.
Zukov put a clawed hand on her upper arm and gently pulled her back. “That’s enough,” he said, and the Emperor’s Champion calmed herself at his words. She let herself be pulled away to take a few deep breaths. Meanwhile, Zukov gestured to a demon at his side and said, “Examine him.”
The demon stepped forwards and roughly grabbed my chin. He shined a light into my eyes one at a time, then wrenched my head up and ran a gloved claw down my jawline.
As his fingernail inspection proceeded up past my ear and along my hairline, I protested. “Watch it. That’s my face.”
“I’m checking how fresh it is,” the demon doctor said in accented Commonwealth Basic while pinching my cheeks.
“I know I’m not twenty anymore, but I’m not that worn. What the Fall is this?”
“We’re going to prove you’re not the real Levar Boylan,” Ankhelina said, pleasure dripping from her tongue.
Despite the danger, I chuckled as the demon medic checked the pads of my fingers. “That will be a trick, as I am Levar Boylan.”
“You cannot be,” Ankhelina said. “Levar Boylan is dead.”
I gave another chuckle, this one cut short as the demon tore open my shirt.
“Steady on, that was tailored.” The medic ran a claw down my chest as he leaned in so close his nose nearly brushed my skin.
Then he backed away and pulled out a portable med scanner.
“You demons have been trying to kill me these last ten years. You’ve not succeeded yet, but give it a few months.
I’m sure one of you must know how to aim a lancer. ”
Ankhelina snarled, but Zukov ignored my taunt. In Imperial, he asked his medic if he’d found anything yet. “Skin and eyes are unmarred beyond the expected blemishes, but nanites could conceal surgical scars. I am checking for recent bone growth. Much harder to hide that.”
“So you think, what, that I’m some actor surgically altered to resemble the Emperor’s dead lover? Seems a little complicated, doesn’t it?” I asked.
Zukov lowered himself into a kneeling position before me, staring deeply into my eyes.
“We are on the edge of victory. One more major offensive, and the Commonwealth capital is in our hands. Without the Commonwealth, the Allies collapse. The war is over. Then, on the eve of victory, the Emperor calls a halt to this war in order to throw a party with her enemies. And at that party, suddenly, her long-lost lover appears amongst the Allied ranks, and although the Emperor has never taken a consort in her twelve years on the throne, this once-dead lover seduces his way into the position. You can surely see how it must look to us.”
“My relationship with Astrid is a matter of public record, as is my identity as a Royal Commonwealth citizen,” I argued.
“Precisely how your government knew to arrange this particular gambit,” Zukov said. “And it has worked terribly well. Now, as Consort, you can convince the Emperor to spare your nation. A last-minute play resulting in overwhelming victory.”
“Don’t you think it a rather dangerous game?” I asked. “If I was fake, which I’m not, you’d think the Emperor’s rage upon realizing she’d been duped would be towering.”
“Would that matter to a nation near defeat? When faced with extinction, would not any opportunity, no matter how slim, seem worth pursuing?” Zukov said.
I gave Zukov a level look. “The mayhaps and might-bes are immaterial in this case, as I am the genuine Levar Boylan.”
Instead of responding, Zukov turned his attention to the demon doctor. “Is he?”
“If he is a doppelganger, he is the best I have ever seen. There is no new bone growth, and aside from his demon heart, everything looks properly abused. His scars even match his profile.”
I suppressed a shiver as the Imps discussed classified Commonwealth information as casually as I would discuss the weather. I knew they had broken our codes. How deeply had the Imperial information apparatus penetrated our data systems?
Ankhelina crossed her arms, shaking her head. “No. He must be a fake. If not a doppelganger, then a flesh golem.”
It was the demon doctor’s turn to shake his head. “He can’t be a golem. Our scanners would detect that much cyber, even concealed beneath biomatter.”
“A clone, then,” Ankhelina argued.
“Why is it so hard for you to believe I’m the real Levar?” I asked.
“Because I was there when you died.”
I cocked my head. “Clearly, you’re mistaken.”