"You don't understand, Stasha," Drew cried in anguish."My life has been left in tattered ruins. When Van Gar left me . . . he took a little piece of my soul." She covered her face with her hands and just sobbed.
"So . . . are you really upset, or just putting on a show so that I will forgive your atrocious behavior?" Stasha asked without emotion.
"What? What's atrocious mean?" Drew sniffed.
"Very bad," Stasha answered.
"All right, you caught me." Drew removed her hands from her face and straightened herself."Damn! I used to be so good at this shit, too."
"I will never forgive you for this, Drew. Do you hear me? Never!" Stasha hissed at her sister, and through both sets of bars and across the hallway that divided them, Drew still got slapped with little bits of spittle.
She made a great show of wiping the spit from her face."All right, that's like the fifteenth time you've said it, so I'm guessing that you're never going to forgive me . . . So, now it's your turn to listen to me. All this 'Drew-bad-for-sleeping-with-Zarco,' is really not the big issue here. The entire castle has been taken over by the nobility, who, by the way, not only hate me, but hate the entire system of government and commerce that I have put into place. They have detonated an anti-communications device and basically blacked us out from the rest of the universe. For how long, I have no idea, but there's basically nothing to stop them from doing it again as soon as the systems fix themselves. Oh, and if that's not bad enough, we are all in jail, and no one but the people who want to keep us here know we're here! So you can quit blowing the whole my-sleeping-with-Zarco thing all out of proportion at any time now. After all, it's not like I'd never screwed him before, and he's possibly the most boring lover I've ever gone to sleep under, so . . ."
"Drewcila, have you learned nothing from what happened with Van Gar?" Stasha demanded.
Drew glared back at her sister and thought about it for a second."Yes, I learned that the people you care about will always let you down, but that Salvage won't."
"There is one man among the guards who says he is loyal to you," Margot said, successfully, if only momentarily, changing the subject.
"I haven't seen him yet this evening," Facto said with real worry."They might have found him out."
"Leave it to ol' Fucktoad to point out the negative," Drew said, not without a fond smile.
"It's good to see you again, too, Drewcila," Facto said.
Drew laughed."Ah, we'll turn you into a smart ass yet. So how did you all get here anyway?"
"I'm not talking to you, Drew," Stasha said, and with a huff walked back to the bed and sat down with her back to Drew.
"Then I guess I wasn't asking you, tight ass," Drew hissed back."Would someone please tell me why everyone seems to be so completely hell-bent on putting all this importance on sex? It's just a simple exchange of surplus body fluids. Shit you aren't really using and aren't even going to miss in the long run."
Facto cleared his throat."You wanted to know what caused us to be incarcerated?"
"Yeah, yeah!" Drew flopped onto the hard wooden bed and glared at her sister's back. She couldn't understand why Stasha was so pissed off, but worse than that, she couldn't understand why it bothered her so much that Stasha was mad at her.
"Well, Stasha was trying to talk some sense into Zarco's head, and as I'm sure you've seen, he isn't in the mood to hear reason. I wasn't as cunning as I thought I was, and he figured out that I was working more for you than him. And Margot . . . well, if you want to know the truth, as much as anything else I think he threw us all in here because he didn't want you to have even one friend in the castle."
Drew hated to ask the next question, but she'd looked into all the other cells, and they were nowhere to be seen."Where are Arcadia, Pristin and Dylan?" Drew asked cautiously. Facto was silent."Facto, they're not in here, so where are they?" Drew demanded.
"Drewcila . . . I'm afraid . . . Zarco had them killed."
Drew's features crumbled."They're dead?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so."
Drew took in a deep breath. It was too much. For the first time in the part of her life that she could remember she felt completely and totally alone. She choked down the ball of tears in her throat, flopped back on the bed, and covered her face with her hands. She didn't know how long she just lay there like that, but it must have been a fairly long time, because the next thing she became aware of was Facto screaming urgently.
"Drewcila! Are you all right!"
"No, I'm not all fucking right." She sat up, drying her eyes with her fists, and didn't look at Facto as she hissed through clenched teeth."He's going to pay. The bastard is going to pay with his blood, or my name isn't Drewcila Qwah."
"Actually, it's not," Stasha said spinning on her sister."Your name is Taralin Zarco, and you're in no position to talk about getting revenge on anyone. Because, as you keep reminding me, we are locked up in jail!"
Drewcila suddenly lost any cool she might have had left."Why don't you go fuck yourself, you damn self-righteous, tight assed little bitch!" She stood up, looking for something to throw. Finding a small rock on the cell floor, she picked it up and chucked it into her sister's head.
"Ow!" Stasha yelled. Holding her head, she started sobbing as the blood trickled from under her fingers. Margot tried to move Stasha's hands to look at the wound, but Stasha's hands weren't budging, as if she thought she was holding her head together and if she let go for even a second her brain might unravel.
"Let that be a lesson to you. Don't ever piss me off, and don't ever, ever count me out of the game." Drew started pacing and mumbling."If only those bastards hadn't gotten my stupid hat, I would have shown them a thing or two."
General Frater Tryte of the Lockhede Air Force looked at the data rolling in, and his conviction was deepened with each name that rolled across the screen.
This time the Barions had gone too far. Communications were back up across the world, and he now gleaned as much from what the Barions were saying as what they had learned from the wreckage. It painted a picture he found hard to believe.
He himself had given the orders that their space fleet was to fire upon any Barion ship which came near their air space. No doubt when the Admiral of the Artvail saw the imperial ship, one that they were more or less sure was carrying the Barion Queen—once transmissions they had intercepted from Barious before the blackout had implied the Queen was on her way—he had crossed the lines and opened fire.
What happened next was as unforgivable as it was inconceivable. That small and inadequately armed imperial "salvaging" ship had utterly and completely destroyed the Artvail, the largest of their three star class battle cruisers. It was something that could not and would not be forgotten. Eight thousand of their best and their brightest had gone to their deaths, while the Barion Queen had apparently walked away unscathed and triumphant.
Of course, how bright could they have been, seeing as they had let a relatively small, non-military ship blast them out of the sky? Still, people hadn't been taking the war effort seriously. The people were hungry and unhappy, and as such they didn't feel like going to war yet again. They needed a reason to fight, a good reason. And they needed a villain.
Now they had a rallying cry. Remember the Artvail! Now they had a villain, and what a villain! A salvaging whore with a taste for Lockhede blood.
Now this broken, destitute people would come together. The Barions had just given them a good reason to fight, and they would fight to the last man and take no prisoners. They would convince the people that their bad luck and poverty was somehow the fault of the Barion's extreme good fortune and affluence. They were greedy and evil.
They had started the war, and now they would finish it. They would stomp the Barions back to prehistory. Now there would be no trade agreements, no talk of peace.
"General," the news woman prompted.
"I'm sorry. It is so hard to tear myself away . . . the list of names. Our best and our brightest, atomized in the destruction of the jewel of the fleet." He sounded choked up, and it wasn't all an act."What did you ask?"
"Rumor has it that the vessel which actually took us down was that of the Barion's Queen, and that we fired on her ship first."
"Scandalous lies," the general declared, pounding his fist into his console. Then he told not only a 'scandalous lie,' but a really well-rehearsed one as well."As you know, our enemies detonated an anti-communications device. Our ship was on patrol. We saw the ship marked with the imperial seal of Barious in our air space, but disregarded it, assuming it was harmless. We, of course, had no way of hailing the ship since all communications had been knocked out: in fact, only minimum communications have been restored at this time. Our brave fighters had no reason to believe that they were in any danger, or that this small ship was in fact any threat at all. Of course, that's exactly what the Barions wanted us to think. This ship only looked like a simple imperial "salvaging" vessel. It was in fact a mach fifty-seven class frigate with a full cache of weapons. The Barion Queen is indeed a very devious, and dangerous woman.
"By the time our people realized the danger they were in, it was too late. She had fired her large cache of weapons and run away like the coward that she is. This is what we are fighting. A cold, calculating people who want to starve us out economically. A filthy rich populace that wants to be rid of us so that they can have the entire planet to themselves. They are selfish, greedy, dangerous, and they won't rest until they have killed us down to the last child."
No one seemed too worried about the fact that with communications between the destroyed battle cruiser and the planet's surface completely blocked out, and with the remains of the ship still on fire and sinking ever steadily into the Galdart Desert, there was no way he could know what actually happened.
That just flat wouldn't have been newsworthy.
"Pisst! Hey, pisst!" a voice whispered.
Stasha quietly climbed out of bed and made her way in a sleep filled daze through the dark to crouch by the bars. It took a second for her eyes to adjust, and then she saw him.
"Where did you go?" she asked quietly as she rubbed her eyes.
"I thought someone was wise to me, so I ducked out for awhile. You sure are hot. What's your sign?"
"Excuse me?" Stasha was sure he was talking in some sort of secret code.
"Dylan?" A whispered question from the cell across the hall.
Dylan left Stasha quickly and crawled across the space."Drew!" He hugged her through the cell bars."Damn! Word had it that you were with the king, not that you'd been locked up."
"Dylan, what the hell? They told me you were dead."
"No. Just hiding. My coloring's close enough I can pass for a Barion if they don't look real good . . ."
"Arcadia?"
"This was all Arcadia's plan. I thought we were going to get out . . . See, we created this big diversion, and then we killed the guard at the back gate, but instead of leaving we stayed inside. But just like she said, they quit looking for us inside because they figured we got away. We knew you'd come here, see? And . . ."
"She's all right then?"
"Yeah, she's fine." Dylan laughed and punched her on the shoulder."Well, you old dog, you! You do care."
"Pris?" Drew asked.
Dylan's face dropped, and Drew had her answer before he said, "He didn't make it. They just killed him. Would have killed us, too. They changed the palace guard."
"So I have noticed. I'm so sorry, man. I had no idea any of you were in danger. That he'd do something that bum-fuck crazy."
"It's not your fault. None of us knew he was that bent, and we've been right here watching him." He lowered his voice even more."I mean, he's been ballin' your sister for what? Like years? And he just had her locked up. That's pretty fucking cold. Hey, you think I got a chance with her?"
"Go for it, dude. She could use a really good fuck."
"So . . . what's the plan, boss?"
"Here's what I want you to do . . ."
"Her tongue is covered in blue and yellow spots," the guard said in a panic.
"She did that to herself," Zarco said. He was exhausted. He'd had trouble going to sleep after all that had happened, and had hoped for a few hours of blissful oblivion. Now he was being awakened far too early on the morning after. He could still smell her on his bed and still feel her touch, and all his convictions to deal with her as she should be dealt with were washed away by the thought of holding her in his arms again.
And he just didn't want to be feeling any of this. Certainly not when he hadn't had enough sleep.
"There is nothing wrong with her. She is faking it so that I will let her go," Zarco said, and no doubt if he saw her he would.
"The doctor has said that she may have been hurt in the crash. She threw up her breakfast and is complaining of abdominal cramps."
"Tell them that no one is to open the cell till I get down there. Grab Atario. Tell him to meet me here. We will go down together."
His servant started to dress him even as the page left his presence. Atario met him in the hallway still pulling on his clothes.
"Do you believe that she's ill?" Atario asked.
"Not for one minute," Zarco said.
"Yet you rush to her side. Sire, surely after last night there can be no doubt . . ."
"She is my wife. Your Queen. I have to be sure."
When they arrived in the dungeon, Drew was lying on the floor. Her color was bad, and there was vomit all over her cell. She seemed to be unconscious.
"You! You have to do something, Zarco!" Stasha cried. She was mad at her sister, but she certainly didn't want her dead.
"Open the door slowly and keep a close eye on her." They did, and Zarco ran in, carefully skirting the piles of puke. It had a foul odor, even more so than normal bile. He knelt beside her and took her wrist in his hand. Her pulse was strong, but her skin was cold and clammy. Zarco motioned for the doctor to come and check Drewcila out."What the hell happened here?" Zarco demanded of the guard.
"I brought them their food. She ate like all the others. The next thing I knew she was complaining of stomach cramps, and then she was throwing up."
Jurak was obviously distraught, and he accused the guard through the bars of their cell, "Just last night I heard that man threaten the queen. He even moved to strike her."
"But I didn't, I . . ."
"She's been poisoned," the doctor said."Quick! We have to get her to my office. We need to find out what poison was used and deliver an antidote before it's too late."
"Grab him!" Zarco ordered, pointing to the guard."Take him at once to an interrogation room. Atario, you see to it personally."
"But, sire, I swear . . ." the guard started, but fell silent when the cold blue eyes of his sovereign locked on his. Drewcila was rushed off to the surgery as the guard was manhandled off to the interrogation room.
"Zarco, please I implore you," Stasha cried from her cell."She is my sister, my only sibling. I had harsh words with her just last night. Please let me go with her."
"Let her out, but watch her," Zarco ordered one of the guards. Stasha was released, and she followed Zarco and the doctor.
The medics were pushing Drew along on a gurney. Stasha ran to catch up with the stretcher and took Drew's hand."Drewcila, please, you can't die. I love you. I'm sorry for all that I said."
The doctor shoved her gently out of the way as they entered the surgery, and the medics skillfully moved Drew from the gurney to the bed.
The doctor hooked Drewcila up to a computer medic.
The doctor sighed, though it was hard to tell whether he was relieved or disappointed."All right, we can all relax, the poison was triple phosforin."
"It's not deadly, then?" Zarco asked.
"Oh, no, it's lethal enough, but it would have had to be fully digested to do any real damage. It wasn't in her system long enough for that since she threw most of it up. I'll simply program a dose of the antidote, Radiol 16." He punched some buttons on the apparatus."She should be just fine in two to three days with bed rest."
"Slut!" Stasha screamed in Drew's face. She glared at Zarco."All right lock me back up."
"Stasha . . . must there be all this ill will between us? I will release you, and you may go to your parents' house if you will only apologize," Zarco said.
"Apologize! For what? Giving you the best years of my life? Wasting my love and my time on you? I've done nothing to you. You locked me in jail, you bedded my sister. You have completely discounted my feelings for you, and now you expect me to apologize to you! I'd sooner rot in jail."
"That can be arranged!" Zarco glared at her."Guards! Escort my sister-in-law back to her cell."
The guards grabbed Stasha. She shook off their hands, and holding her head high, walked off towards the dungeon. Zarco watched her go and almost told her to come back, almost decided that he should be the one to apologize. Tell her that he understood now that he belonged more with her than he did Drewcila. However, before he could open his mouth to speak, the doctor interrupted his thoughts.
"Whoever our assassin is, he doesn't know much about poison," Doctor Sortas said conversationally.
"Why do you say that?" Zarco asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Triple phosforin is a slow working poison. If you wanted to kill someone with it, you would administer it in small doses over a long period of time. Giving someone enough to actually kill them all at once, well, more times than not you get the reaction Drewcila had. It causes intense stomach cramps, and they throw it up before it can do any real damage."
"Where could they find this poison?" Zarco asked, hoping to narrow his list of suspects.
"Just about anywhere. For instance, it's the main ingredient in most organic toilet bowl cleaners."
"There is deadly poison in an organic product?" Zarco said in disbelief.
"Sire, just because something is organic doesn't mean you should eat it," the doctor explained.
"Are you mocking me?" Zarco asked hotly.
"Why, no . . . Not at all, sire. I didn't mean to offend."
"I'm sorry, doctor. I'm a little edgy lately. I know you said she should be fine in two or three days, but how long will it take her to come to?"
"Her system's had quite a shock, this is her body's way of coping with it; still, she shouldn't be out more than an hour, two tops."
"I know she's sick, but you had best keep an eye on her. She's a tricky one. I will leave two guards outside the room." Zarco hesitated at the door, and turned to face the doctor."How do you feel about Drewcila?"
The doctor swallowed hard. That was a double edged question. On the one hand, the king had purposely removed anyone with loyalty to the queen from the castle. On the other, he obviously didn't want his wife killed. Sortas chose his words carefully."I don't agree with her politics, but I also believe that she, more than any of us, is a victim of the Lockhedes. I certainly don't want to see any harm come to her. I believe she can be fixed."
"All right. Don't leave her side," Zarco said again.
"I shan't," Sortas promised. Of course he didn't promise to actually do anything to help Drewcila, either
Drew opened one eye carefully and looked around the room. The doctor was looking at her readouts, and she knew that meant he must realize that she was awake. Damn monitor.
Well, she might as well talk to him."Doctor!" she croaked out weakly."What happened to me?"
"Someone tried to poison you. They weren't very successful. You should be your old self in a day or two."
"Great. It sucks to be in poor health when you're in prison." Drew laughed weakly."Who . . . who did it?"
"They suspect a guard. He's being interrogated." The doctor turned to look at her for the first time."The King does love you so very much. Couldn't you at least try to be a proper queen?"
"You know, doc, I feel like warmed up dog shit, and I'm fresh out of patience for even one more lecture. I wouldn't expect a doctor—possibly the group that bitched most about my maximum wage law—to understand what it's like to be a monarch who cares as much for the poor as they do the rich. To think that an unlucky man deserves medical care and a decent life as much as the privileged."
"You make it sound as if I am without compassion. I wouldn't be in this profession if I didn't care about people . . ."
"Yeah, that's why you'd be the king's physician, where you maybe treat what? Twenty or thirty people a year? Mostly kitchen burns and scraped knees. Save your crap for someone who'll buy it. All you rich fucks are alike."
"No one is quite as rich as yourself, majesty," the doctor reminded.
"True. But unlike you I haven't gotten rich off peoples' pain. In fact, I have gotten rich by stopping that pain. By giving jobs to people who didn't have jobs, by giving medical care to people who couldn't afford it before. By shrinking the giant gap between the haves and the have-nots. This is the real reason the nobility hate me. Not because I'm a salvager, or because I'm a whore, or even a drunk—although I'm sure all those things piss them off to no end. No, they hate me because there are far fewer people for them to be better than. Not as many people for them to push around. And not nearly as many people who have to kiss their asses. That's my big crime—I'm actually fair."
The doctor laughed then."My, my! You are indeed the consummate public speaker. I had forgotten just how eloquent you can be when you're sober, and you set your mind to it. Save your speeches for the peons, my Queen, you shan't sway me."
"I wasn't actually trying to sway you. I was just trying to keep you distracted long enough for my associates to take out the two guards at the door and sneak up on your ass."
"What?" The doctor felt the needle sliding into the flesh of his butt, felt a slight sting, and then he was out.
"What took you so long?" Drew asked with a smile.
"You ever try to carry a Valtarian lizard woman in a garbage can?" Dylan asked with a grin."She's heavy, and her tail kept sliding out from under the lid."
Drew got out of the bed and stumbled. Arcadia caught and held her, and Drew threw her arms around Arcadia's neck and kissed her on the mouth."I am so incredibly glad that you aren't dead."
"I wouldn't be nearly so much fun that way," Arcadia said.
"You just would not believe the shitty week I've had."
"Me, too. How are you feeling?" Arcadia asked.
"Horrible," Drew said."Like I've been hit by a truck. But I've had worse hang-overs, so let's get the hell out of here."
"For the record, I thought this whole crazy-assed plan was a big mistake," Arcadia said.
"Yeah, not actually my very brightest moment," Drew said with a smile. Her legs were weak and would hardly hold her."For one thing, I feel a lot worse than I thought I was going to. I really figured that with all the booze I've consumed over the years, I'd be more or less immune to most poisons."
Arcadia helped Drew into the palace guard's uniform that Dylan handed her. Drew was feeling a little better by the time Dylan checked the hall and they walked out. She leaned against the wall, laser in hand, and kept guard as Dylan and Arcadia dragged the two very dead guards into the infirmary. One had obviously wound up with a tail spike through his head. The other'd had his neck broken. So Drew guessed that Arcadia was as pissed about Pris as she was.
"Hey! Look what we just caught," the guard announced.
"Thought we were supposed to shoot them on sight," the gate keeper said as he rose with his ring of keys to open the door to the cell block for them.
"The king changed his mind."
"He seems to do that a lot these days."
"He thinks he can use this one to sway the queen. Rumor has it that this one is one of the queen's lovers."
"This ugly lizard thing?" The guard laughed as he opened the door."You've got to be kidding me."
Jurak watched the exchange with obvious interest. The others seemed to be too depressed to notice much of anything now. They had brought them their lunch a few minutes before, but for obvious reasons none of them had eaten.
He watched as the gate keeper and the other two walked in with their prisoner.
"That's Arcadia," Facto whispered in despair at his shoulder."We are quickly running out of hope and options."
Jurak nodded his head silently.
"Which cell?" the gate keeper asked.
"That one. She's dangerous, and we need to keep her separate from the others," one of the other guards answered. The gate keeper opened the cell door across from them."You know, you would think we could get a little more high-tech than this. Install computer door locks and laser bars and such. Even an alarm might be nice. Maybe some security cameras. This whole system is so antiquated."
"You know the king and the higher-ups. They want to keep everything in the castle as authentic as possible."
"Yeah, well, that's too bad for you."
Jurak watched in confusion as the guard released the prisoner and fell against the bars of the cell, barely holding himself up. Arcadia grabbed the keys from the gate keeper and shoved him roughly into the open cell, shut the door and locked it.
Arcadia then threw the keys to Dylan and turned to peel Drewcila from the bars of the cell.
Drew addressed the guard in the cell."Now, fat ass . . . You don't mind if I call you fat ass? No, of course not. Anyway, fat ass, here's the score. Now I'd just as soon kill your worthless rich ass as look at it. So if you don't want me to smoke your butt, you'll get very quiet . . . Ah, fuck it." Drew raised her weapon and sent a bolt through the guy's head, then turned to look at Arcadia, who was still holding her up."I'm having a really bad day, and it's just easier to shoot him than it is to give the speech. Besides, why take chances, right?"
"He called me an ugly lizard thing," Arcadia added with a mock pout.
"God! I hate rude people," Drew said."Don't you hate rude people?"
"Dead people are rarely rude," Arcadia said conversationally. Drew nodded her agreement.
Dylan unlocked the door to the crowded cell, and the others ran out to join them.
"Now what?" Facto asked Drew expectantly.
"We make like a baby and go," Drew said.
They started moving, but Drew stumbled, and if Arcadia hadn't been holding her up she no doubt would have fallen."Sorry," Drew said.
"No problem," Arcadia said with a smile.
"Are you up to this, Drew?" Facto asked.
"Not really. I mean, I ate poison, but we aren't working in the 'have a whole lot of options' column here. At lunch time all the guards but the fat ass left the dungeon area. When the guards get back from lunch, I think even those lame-asses are going to notice that you're all gone. That is if they don't figure out that I'm missing from sick bay first. We have a relatively small window of opportunity, so we have to keep moving. Margot . . . you're a dresser. Where do they keep the spare uniforms? And don't tell me in the barracks. That isn't going to help."
"The palace laundry room is just at the top of the stairs leading out of the dungeon," Margot said.
"Let's go then."
They got into the laundry room without incident, which meant that so far no one had noticed that any of them were missing. No doubt because of that lovely antiquated security system.
"Wait a minute," Stasha said as she pulled on a uniform."You said you ate poison. That means . . ."
"Yeah, yeah. Dylan slipped the poison into my food. I knew I was eating it. That's why I started hurling it up so quick."
"Are you crazy! What did you do that for?" Stasha asked hotly."And why the hell didn't you tell us? We thought you were really dying."
"Gee, I'm sorry to disappoint you," Drew hissed back, growing more tired of her sister's misplaced anger as the day progressed."I didn't tell you because you would have blown it. As to why I did it—three reasons, actually. First, it got me the hell out of the cell. Second, no one's going to expect someone whose just been poisoned to stage a prison break. Third, and this is my favorite one, the guilt factor. Zarco put me in jail, therefore he put me in danger. He has purposely hired guards that hate me, so now they're all suspect, and it pits them against him. Everyone's walking on eggshells, afraid of being accused. We need to get our happy asses in gear and get the hell out of here. I'm thinking we tie a shit load of sheets together and go out one of the second story windows which open onto the city streets. Out there in the streets, that's where our allies are."
"Drew, you're in no condition to make a climb like that," Arcadia reminded.
"We can lower her down first," Dylan said as he worked with Margot tying sheets together.
When they had their make-shift rope, they made their way down the hall and up to the second story with both Drewcila and Arcadia shoved into a laundry cart which they pushed along.
Looking like palace guards, and with no alarm having yet been sounded, they were able to walk through the halls and use the elevator with no one giving them a second look, much less stopping to question why guards were handling the laundry. No doubt they thought it was some new war-time thing that called for the palace staff to do more "double tasking."
Their luck didn't hold. As they exited the elevator on the second floor, the alarm bell was sounded. Dylan looked at his watch. The guards must have gotten back from lunch and noticed that they had a jail full of . . . well, nothing. They started to move a little faster.
Three guards rounded the corner in front of them.
"You there! What have you got in that cart?" Then they all started to run, no doubt having recognized Facto and Stasha, whose faces would have been well known in the castle and to the nobility.
"A pissed-off Valtarian lizard woman," Dylan screamed, raising his laser and firing.
Arcadia erupted from the laundry cart, sending the sheet ropes that had been concealing them all over, and opened fire on the guards
All three fell.
Arcadia and Facto helped Drewcila from the laundry cart as Margot and Dylan gathered up their rope.
They started running again, but when they turned the corner, there blocking the hall was a large troop of guards. When they turned to retrace their steps there was another troop closing behind them.
"Surrender!" a familiar voice said as Zarco waded out of the sea of guards."You're ill, Drewcila, and you're badly out numbered. Put your weapons down." Feeling cocky, he moved still closer to the escapees.
Drewcila glared back at him defiantly."You killed Pristin," she accused.
Zarco looked confused, and Atario moved through the crowd to whisper to the king.
The king nodded, and then said, "You actually expected me to take orders from an ugly blue dwarf with three legs?"
"That wasn't a third leg, you dumb ass!" Drew hissed. She flung her head wildly.
"I'm giving you one chance to surrender, then I'm going to order my men to open fire."
"You shouldn't threaten me, Zarco. You should never threaten me. NOW!"
She fired her weapon, putting a bolt through the nearest guard's head as Arcadia slapped out with her tail, taking Zarco's feet out and sending him falling right into Dylan's waiting arms. Dylan quickly twisted the king's arm behind his back with one hand, and held a blaster to his head with the other.
Drew laughed maniacally."Now who's winning? Back the fuck up, all you flunky-nobility pieces of shit! The common folks will always kick your asses, and do you know why?" she asked Atario, who only shook his head silently."Because the poor have nothing to do to pass the time but fuck, so there are always going to be more of them. And because they're always going to be trying to get all the cool shit you have."
Zarco glared at Drew."Drewcila, I demand . . ."
"Zarco, darling," Drewcila drawled, "you really should have gone for the flowers. We are way past the point of you demanding anything from me. Gee! You give a guy the best years of your life and a big chunk of your brain, and how does he repay you? By locking you up." She looked at the guards as a group again."Now I'm going to tell you one more time. Back the fuck off!"
They did then. As a group they ran down the hall in the opposite direction.
"Pick a door, any door on the right side of the hall," Drew said. Her vision was blurred, and she was having trouble keeping up, even with Facto and Arcadia all but carrying her.
Jurak swung a door open on the right side of the hall, and they ran in, slamming it behind them and locking it. Then Jurak, Stasha and Margot moved a huge dresser in front of it just for good measure.
Dylan set the king roughly in a chair."Don't move." He picked up another chair and slung it into the window. It bounced off and started careening around the room.
"What the hell!" Dylan screamed, barely jumping out of the way in time.
"The windows are made of bullet proof glass," Facto said.
"You might try just opening it, moron," Drew said in disbelief. She swung her head around to look at Facto."I feel like a bad death warmed up. How do I look?"
"Not much better, I'm afraid," Facto said, smiling at her fondly.
"Listen, all of you!" Zarco screamed.
"Screw him and get that fucking window open now," Drew ordered. Then turned to Zarco, "You just shut up and look pretty. We wouldn't be in this mess right now if you'd remembered that in the first place. Everything was just fine as long as I did all the thinking, and you did all the sitting around looking pretty crap."
When Dylan couldn't seem to get the window open, Jurak went to help him. It wasn't budging.
"People, this is high treason. If you release me at once . . ."
"Actually, it would be high treason," Facto walked away from Drew, leaving Arcadia to hold her up alone, "if we were defying both the king and the queen, or if we were doing something to destroy the country. But the only one who has defied the queen and done anything to destroy this country lately has been you." Facto's voice had risen in volume and in pitch."So indeed I say that when the history books are written, and they talk of this day, it shall be you who is remembered as a traitor."
"Wow! Ol' Fucktoe's really pissed," Drew whispered to Arcadia, who just nodded.
"It's stuck," Dylan announced.
"Then blast it. Come on, we're running out of time," Drew ordered.
"It's bullet proof. I'm assuming that means laser proof," Dylan said looking at her like she was a moron.
"The fucking window seals are wood. Try blasting those, dumb ass."
"Oh, yeah." Dylan started firing his laser at the wood frame as someone started pounding on the door.
"We will give you exactly five minute to release the king, and then we will break the door down," Atario said from outside.
"Oh, God! Please don't do that! I love that door. Please, father, pray for the door," Drew whined back."Gee! All we have is your king, and you have our door. Whatever shall we do?"
"The doors are also bullet proof, and the locks are made of Taligite steel. They can stand against anything," Facto reported.
Then they heard Atario scream."Get a battering ram and knock it down!"
"Except maybe that," Facto said.
"Battering ram. That's a damn good idea," Drew said thoughtfully as she looked around the room. Her eyes landed on a large trunk."Dylan. Jurak. Grab that trunk and use it to batter the window. Maybe now that you have weakened the sill it will bust out."
They grabbed the trunk and started pounding on the window at the same time as the guards started pounding on the door.
Stasha, Margot and Facto worked at moving still more furniture in front of the door.
"Stasha, surely you . . ." Zarco started.
Stasha looked at him and shook her head no."After what you did to me and with my sister, the Whore of the Spaceways . . ."
"Wow! I've got another title," Drew said, letting her head bob up and down.
Stasha more or less ignored Drewcila as she continued glaring at Zarco."I'm the last person you ought to be asking for any kind of help."
Zarco moved as if to get up, and Arcadia's laser leveled on him, "Ugh," she said. He sat back down.
The window popped out just as the door made a cracking sound.
"Tie the sheets to the footboard of the bed, and let's go," Drew ordered.
Dylan tied off the sheets, and threw the end of their rope out the window."Man, like we made way too much rope, dudes."
"Better too much than not enough I always say," Drew said with a smile, looking at Zarco with meaning.
"Drewcila . . . you had better listen to me . . ."
"Don't bother me right now, Zarco, I'm trying to remember something important. One last thing I have to do before I go. Now what was it? Oh, yeah! I remember." She turned to glare at Zarco."Kill you." She leveled her blaster on him."You killed my friend, cheated on my sister, and had me thrown into jail. I can't just let it slide."
"Drewcila, no!" Stasha screamed. The bolt hit Zarco in the leg instead of the chest, and he let out a scream of pain.
"Damn! My aim must be off," Drew started to re-aim, and Stasha grabbed her arm.
"Drew, don't kill him," Stasha pleaded with tears in her eyes.
"Damn! There is just no pleasing some people. First it's don't screw him, and now it's don't kill him. I wish you'd make up your mind what it is you want." Drew watched him writhing around the floor in pain, and decided it was good enough for now. Stasha ran to his side and tried to help him."All right, I'll let him live, but don't ask me for any favors for awhile."
The door made another cracking noise."Drew, we have to go," Arcadia said. Margot and Dylan were already on the ground, and Facto was well on his way.
"You next, Stasha," Drew said.
"Don't you dare order me around," Stasha screamed up at Drew, tears streaming down her face.
"Go out the fucking window on our little sheet rope that Margot and Dylan worked so hard on, or I'm going to throw you out the window and use you as a landing pad for my fat ass. Now go!"
"You'll be all right, Zarco," Stasha promised. Then she got up, ran to the window, and with Jurak's help started down the rope.
"Drewcila . . . I'll make you pay for this!" Zarco screamed.
"You're pushing it, Zarco," Drew hissed back."My sister's gone now, and there is nothing at all to stop me burning a hole right through your freaked out brain. Then I'll be queen." She laughed maniacally. Arcadia dragged her to where Jurak had hauled the rope back up. They tied it around her, just under her shoulders, and then quickly lowered her to the ground. By the time they had done this, the guards were almost through the door.
"You go," Arcadia ordered abruptly.
"No, you . . . I'll be fine."
Arcadia didn't argue with him. As the door and its barricade started to move, she shimmied over the sill and down the rope.
They had determined that the rope probably wouldn't hold more than one of them at a time, so Jurak reached quickly into his pocket, pulled out his silly hat, and stuck it on his head. Then just as the door and barricade noisily gave way, almost drowning the din of his monarch's cries of agony, he went out the window and down the rope only a few feet behind Arcadia. The rope gave a little, but didn't break. As they both reached the ground safely, Dylan hurried them away from the rope and shot the top of it with his laser. The rope fell in flames to the ground. Jurak and Arcadia helped Drewcila, and together they ran as fast and as far into the city as they could get.
The door broke, and there was enough room for one man to squeeze past. From inside they could hear someone screaming in pain, and while they'd heard the argument between the queen and her sister and knew Zarco had been wounded, they couldn't be sure that he was alone.
Atario pulled his laser and looked at the others."Stay here. We don't know what we might face. I may be able to negotiate."
The guards all nodded. Though it was no doubt more because they were glad to be staying out here away from danger than because they thought Atario had a good idea—or even that they understood. There was something that Atario hadn't considered when he had talked the king into changing members of the palace guard for members of the nobility. The nobility were a bunch of out of shape desk slugs who had no training or natural ability for the job. They were ready to pull a trigger, but they weren't really ready to actually get hurt, and now that several of them had easily been killed by the queen and her rabble, they were less and less willing to put themselves in the actual line of fire.
So Atario walked carefully into the room himself. He saw the broken window and the king clutching his leg on the floor. He ran to Zarco's side."Sire, are you all right?"
"Do I look all right? The bitch shot me. She shot me, Atario. She wanted to kill me. My great love, my wife . . ."
Atario had heard enough. All of this trouble had come from one source, and he could easily kill two birds with one stone. He pressed the business end of his laser to the king's head.
"Oh, sire! What has that traitorous whore done to you!" he cried out.
"What the . . ." the laser beam seared through Zarco's skull and brain, killing him almost instantly.