Chapter Eighteen #2
It didn’t shock me. She was a power-hungry oppressor who would stop at nothing to become prime governor. And winning this debate was one step closer to that goal.
“Could be a coincidence,” I said, glancing along the crowded rows of chairs surrounding us, wondering who else she had blackmailed and how many were rejected Damsons.
But the question that bothered me the most was how she knew who had refused who.
That information wasn’t something that was documented.
Claws of dread scaled down my spine as I took in the number of spectators present for Zuli’s presentation in comparison to Governor Dix’s. Was everyone here set on supporting her, or were they viewing her attempt at genocide with worrisome objection?
Next to me, Torz shifted in his seat again, and I spotted Marla being escorted into the auditorium via the stage door by Finn and Petra.
The flowing white dress Marla wore emphasised her shapely figure, and the vibrant red of her hair contrasted beautifully with her pale skin, emphasising the brightness of her irises and plumpness of her lips.
Like a beacon of attractiveness, dozens of individuals turned towards her, including Torz.
A bite of jealousy twisted in my gut like frozen helium, and when Marla clocked Torz, sending a delightful smile and a wiggle of her fingers his way, the stab in my chest cut deep.
Especially when he smiled back, nodding his acknowledgement with a warm sentiment I felt through our bond.
Holding my breath, I muttered, “I see she’s grown on you.”
Torz rubbed his lips together, still watching her. “Maybe she has. She’s harmless enough.”
Harmless? I wanted to laugh. She was a devious temptress, steadily sinking her nails into him. She’d already admitted to me how attractive she found him, and with her sitting in Zuli’s pocket, where did that leave Torz if he fell for her charm?
Inwardly, I bristled as the lights dimmed, and under a harsh spotlight, Zuli floated onto the stage.
While she drawled her welcome pleasantries, I found Marla’s glowing white dress in the front row.
A persistent nag probed the back of my mind, and I was unable to dislodge the question of why Torz was adamant his team was to guard Marla during our time aboard Titus.
Since leaving Delta Ring, she was no longer his responsibility.
She had her own security personnel. So…what was I missing?
The twist in my stomach tightened. Was Torz suddenly taken with Marla, so his protection went beyond Zuli’s demands?
He kept her safe with the guards who were meant to be protecting him.
Yes, okay, Saul was outside, and I was here, but judging by his comment this morning, my presence was to aid him, not protect him.
Why was he leaving himself vulnerable to attack?
I tapped my holster, ensuring my guns were accessible. I would protect him with my life. But with the bright stage-lights blinding me, I could barely see anything other than shadows.
“The Quoram Effect.” Zuli’s voice drew my eyes to the stage, where a large screen illuminated behind her, displaying a photo of a lush purple field surrounded by silver-grey mountains.
“We all know this term is used to describe the destructive process the standard human suffers when they breathe Quoram air or step foot on its sacred surface. However, we have recently discovered how the effect can benefit us as a civilisation.”
I scanned the crowd, witnessing the enthralled faces aglow from the screen. How this woman could command a room was both impressive and terrifying.
“I attended Governor Farrow’s rather short presentation proposing to make the Damson bond acceptance compulsory—”
I rolled my eyes. Yeah, so did I.
“—I understand that, if instated, the policy could potentially resolve the depletion of our energy source. The more bonded Damson couples on the surface, the more energy produced. The more food we have, the more protection we have. However, it does not address the population issue we are facing. My plan does.”
My stomach roiled at the shimmering gleam emanating from her dark eyes, and it twisted and spasmed relentlessly as she continued.
“Quoram feeds off Damson couples to maintain balance. That, too, is an aspect of The Quoram Effect. We’ve always known that when a standard human steps foot on the ground, even for a split second, despite any protective suits they are wearing, the planet’s magical molecules have already infiltrated their body, slowly draining the individual’s life source and condemning their nervous system.
The effect takes between two hours to twelve weeks to kill, which primarily drives the individual mad.
However, we have recently discovered that throughout this process, a small spike appears within Quoram’s energy field.
This suggests the planet feeds off these unfortunate fellows, regardless of where they are.
“A further study has shown that there are certain areas of Quoram that hold a far higher concentration of energy pulses. We have established that if a standard human happens to linger on the surface at these specific locations, The Quoram Effect is significantly stronger, and the individual’s life source is drained within minutes.
Therefore, they experience no prolonged effects, and...
”—she smiled with a maleficent wickedness—“the energy drawn from that individual can be up to twenty times greater than a weekly supply from a Damson couple.”
My eyes widened, and the room erupted with questions.
Questions ranging from how many people needed to be fed to the planet to replenish our energy field, to where these areas were, to how this kind of power surge compares to that given by Damson couples over the span of a lifetime?
But one voice barraged through the rest, silencing them all, and my skin crawled at who it was—Lieutenant General Klauss, the military chief who oversaw Pura.
“I’d like to see a demonstration.”
Zuli’s smirk confirmed her delight at his request. “Of course, Lieutenant General.” She gestured to the screen behind her as it flicked to a live stream, displaying Quoram’s opaque purple sky through the window of a military jet.
“My team has just entered Quoram airspace. This specific location is within the Nova Valley.”