"I don't want your pity."
Liane sucked in an exasperated breath. It was obvious she'd have to guard her thoughts from him. She tightened her mental control.
Momentary confusion flickered in his striking green eyes. Then his smile widened. "Your powers are strong when you care to use them. But are they stronger than mine?"
She smiled for the first time. It was easier to rise to a challenge than be weakened by compassion. "We shall soon see, won't we?"
Her fingers moved into position on his temples and forehead.
"What's your name?"
His unexpected question both irritated and nonplused her. "What?"
"Your name. If I'm to be mentally assaulted, I thought it only fair to know my assailant's name. My name's Karic."
"I don't care what your name is," Liane hissed through clenched teeth. She closed her eyes and began to concentrate.
"Are you always such a heartless bitch?"
Liane's eyes snapped open. For the longest moment she stared at him. He was clever. She did her best work when she felt nothing for the recipient of her mind seek, neither compassion nor anger. In the course of just a few secundae he had managed to stir both emotions in her to the fullest. It had to stop.
"Do not fight me," she said, intoning the ritualistic instructions, "and you will feel no pain. Follow where I lead and it will be over before you realize . . .
Even before he felt an insidious warmth flow into his mind, Karic knew he had lost the first skirmish and steeled himself for the far more important battle to come. He forced himself to relax his painfully tensed body, gathering all his strength where he would soon need it most. He knew what she wanted, this beauty from the forest pool. It could only be the same secret his other tormentors had so diligently endeavored to extract for the past sol, ever since they'd electronically overcome him inside the city gates. If only he'd known about the alarm system, about the incapacitating force field, he could have prepared and avoided them. But it was too late now.
He let her mind join with his, allowed her to flow through the layers of inconsequential thoughts and memories, delaying her with questions, attempting to distract. He caught the fleeting mention of her name before she clamped down on further replies and used the sound of it to tease and torment her.
Ah, Liane, so beauteous, so heartless. Why do you hate me and my people to so avidly seek our destruction?
Karic mentally bombarded her.
They will kill us, wipe us from the face of this planet, if you reveal our hiding place. Is that what you want?
She heard it all and relentlessly forged on, ignoring, as best she could, the forceful images of the man, brave, strong and proud, and his deep, abiding love for his people. It was almost too easy, his too generous permission to enter his mind, but she doggedly plummeted inward toward the deepest recesses of his being. His secret would soon be hers.
In the next instant Liane slammed into something so hard, so immovable, that it sent a psychic jolt through her body. The pain of impact made her gasp. Her eyes fluttered open to careen into his. He visually held her as she stood there, suddenly pressed against him. For what seemed the longest time neither could think nor breathe.
Reality returned like the slow, sensuous movement of warm honeyheavy, sweet and thick. She'd hit his mental wall, Liane realized, and it was like none other she'd ever encountered. She inhaled a fortifying breath and began a relentless psychic hammering against him. He was strong, but her powers were stronger. She knew it was but a matter of time.
The heat between them grew. Their bodies, molded so tightly one to the other, dampened with the shared struggle, until Liane could feel every rippling muscle of his body straining against hers. Fire burned between them. A tiny ember flared to life in her mind, stoked by the insistence of the masculine intellect that held her just as firmly as she held him.
She was back in the forest, in the sunlit glade by the water-splashed pool. This time, however, she was not alone. The Cat Man, Karic, was with her, and he watched with his strange, hungry eyes, watched as she slipped the gown from her body, watched as she made her way to him.
He took her into his arms. His mouth, sensuously full and wanting, covered hers. She went mad then, her arms entwining about his neck, her fingers burying themselves into his thick mane of hair, their tongues meeting in a fierce, sweet, wild unionbut the madness was but a fleeting escape from the true reality.
Liane wrenched free of his psychic manipulations and looked up into eyes hot with passion.
The angry accusations burning in her gaze elicited no apologies from Karic. "You were there as freely as I," he growled. "I felt your body respond, felt your heart quicken beneath mine. It was real no matter how much of the mind. Admit it!"
"Never!"
Before Karic had a chance to react Liane's mind seek slammed into him, forcing open a chink in his inner wall. She was half in, catching a glimpse of a distant mountain peak, before Karic shoved her out. She fought back with all the power within her. For the longest time they struggled, neither certain who the eventual victor might be.
Pain tightened their features as one feinted then attacked the other, sheer desperation fueling Liane's assault, bitter determination upholding Karic's. Even in his physically weakened state the Cat Man managed to fend off every attack, even though he knew he had little left to give. If there'd been a way to internally kill himself or drive himself over the brink of incoherent madness, he'd have done it while he still had the strengthanything but reveal the hiding place of his people. But that small favor was denied him. All that was left was to doggedly fight on.
Liane saw it and felt his rising desperation, yet the realization failed to sweeten her sense of victory. If he'd been stronger, not so cruelly weakened by the neural torture, she'd never have prevailed this Ear. Yes, the victory was now within her grasp, but she knew she'd have to kill him to gain it. Only in his dying would she at last penetrate his defenses, and that knowledge was almost more than she could bear.
Never, in all her cycles as a Sententian, had she done harm in a mind seek, much less killed someone. Yet failure would be hers if she didn't kill now. Was it worth the price?
Duty and strict obedience to the will of higher authority had been instilled in her since birth and were as much a part of her as the air she breathed, the water she drank. But duty and strict obedience were suddenly of little comfort in the face of seeing a brave, indomitable man die in her arms. She didn't think she could live with herself.
The conflict grew to crazed proportions. Life . . . Death . . . Right . . . Wrong. The words, mingling with the confusing pleasure of the mental moments shared in his arms, rose to a whirling maelstrom in her mind. Pain, worse than any she'd felt in her life, stabbed through Liane, sending sharp, bright, blinding shards of light into her brain.
Suddenly, it seemed too hard to go on, too hard to fight through the maze of choices. With a small cry, Liane slumped to the floor.
Hovering on the brink of consciousness, Karic watched liane being carried from the room. His bleary gaze followed, well aware it might be the last time he ever saw her. Their brief encounter, however painful, was all he'd ever havethat and the achingly sweet memory of those few moments watching her by the pool.
It wasn't enough, but there seemed little hope of surviving this imprisonment. And after catching glimpses of her fevered desperation during the mind seek, Karic wondered if Liane would fare much better. With an exhausted sigh, he lowered his head. As bitter a realization as it was, there wasn't much he could do for either of them.
"What did you do to her?"
Karic sensed Necator's approach even before he spoke. It just required too much effort to acknowl- edge him, even if the man had been worth the effort. He ignored the question.
A low buzzing pervaded the room. Karic felt himself lowered to the floor until he was kneeling upon it, his arms still suspended in the air. His head was wrenched back by a rough hand in his hair, and he stared up into cold black eyes.
"I'll ask you again," Necator snarled, "and I'll have the truth from you or the femina will lose her life."
A slow grin split his face at the surge of emotion that flashed across the Cat Man's features. "Just as I thought. Somehow you managed to get through to her with those sly powers of yours. You won her over, didn't you?"
Karic forced the tension to ease from his body. For Liane's sake, he must tread carefully here. He wearily shook his head.
"She's a beautiful femina; any male can see that. I don't wish her harm, but as far as what I did to her, it's simple. My powers overcame hers. You have nothing strong enough to get what you want from me."
The Lord Commander's eyes narrowed to speculative slits. "You may be right, Cat Man, but then again, you may also be a bit premature in claiming victory."
His face moved until it nearly touched Karic's. "There
is
one more thing. Perhaps you'll not do as well against a machine."
He gave Karic's hair a vicious tug. "What do you think, Cat Man? Are you man enough to go against a machine as successfully as you did a delicate femina?
"Of course," he smirked, "it's only a prototype, still a bit cumbersome and unrefined. Perhaps it won't really be much of a challenge to you. Then again, perhaps it will turn you into a mindless, blithering idiot."
Necator turned to one of the scientists. "Bring in the Guide. It is past time we tested it on a Cat Man."
The Guide, Karic thought. That was the name reportedly given to the Bellatorian's new secret weapon. Now, not only had he gained the chance to see it, but he would personally experience its powers as well. It was an opportunity beyond his greatest expectations, if he lived to carry the information back to his people.
They rolled the metal monstrosity in with great care, a tall, heavy rectangular box studded with dials, levers and a large screen. Necator and the two scientists donned what looked to Karic to be some sort of protective hearing devices, then one of the scientists began adjusting the knobs.
A low hum filled the room, gradually rising in tone until it became a shrill, irritating whine. Karic shook his head to rid himself of the noise, but it did little good. The noise became painful, as the high-pitched sound waves relentlessly bombarded his ears.
Karic grimaced. Necator said the machine would turn him into a mindless idiot. Excruciating pain could do that to a man, but Karic doubted the Guide's purpose was quite that simplistic. There had to be a way to plumb the secret workings of the machine and divine its true abilities, if only there were time.
The effects of the Guide upon the Cat Man were not lost on Necator. He smiled in satisfaction. Things were progressing exactly as planned. The Cat Man's mental resistance would soon be destroyed. In a matter of secundae, the prisoner would be psychic putty in his hands. Then he'd extract the whereabouts of the secret Cat lair and have his victory at last.
He had considered executing the Cat Man as soon as he had his information, but now he hesitated. The full extent of the Guide's effects on the rebels might be worth delving into. If the machine could be programed to overcome all their psychic powers, its potential would be unlimited. Why, it might even rival the purported abilities of the Knowing Crystal, and then he'd have his revenge on the arrogant Teran Ardane as well.
Yes, Necator mused, further study might well be of use. He liked the idea of delving into the soon-to-be pliable mind of the proudly defiant Cat Man, molding his thoughts and feelings into whatever form he Chose. An abject slave, groveling at his feet, was a particularly pleasing image.
The fevered actions of the scientist working the Guide's controls drew Necator from his pleasant contemplation. With a frown, the Lord Commander strode over to the machine. The waves on the screen fluttered erratically and red warning lights flashed.
He grabbed the scientist's arm to get his attention. "What's wrong?" he mouthed to the man.
The scientist frantically waved at the machine, then in the direction of the Cat Man. "He's doing something to the Guide," the man mouthed back. "I can't keep it calibrated. It's like
he's
controlling it now."
With a low growl, Necator swung toward the Cat Man. There was indeed something untoward happening, for the prisoner no longer wore a look of twisted agony. Somehow, someway, he must have discovered the proper wavelength to communicate with the Guide.
Necator lifted his hearing protectors. Yes, the piercing sounds had muted to a low, almost pleasant hum. He inwardly cursed. The Cat Man had indeed found a way to manipulate the machine. Necator turned back to the Guide.
''Turn it off!" he screamed. "Shut it down before he has a chance to totally destroy it!"
The humming died as the scientist snapped off the various dials and switches. Necator wrenched away his hearing protectors, sending them flying across the tile floor to slam into the nearest wall. For a long while he stood there, his body trembling With the depth of his rage.
The Guide was useless against Cat Men. His precious machine, developed to destroy mental resistance and open its victims to reprograming, was not only useless but in danger of psychic sabotage at the hands of the one race of Agricans that Bellator had yet to subdue. And now he was no closer to discovering their secret lair than he was before. Curse them all!
He stalked over to where the Cat Man knelt, his arms still painfully suspended in the air. Once more Necator wrenched back his head. The glimmer of triumph in his prisoner's eyes nearly made him choke on his impotent rage. He jerked the Cat Man's head back so far that only the strength of the muscles bulging in the man's neck kept his spine from snapping.
"You've won nothing," Necator hissed through clenched teeth. "Nothing, do you hear me? You've only given me further reason to hasten the extermination of your race. Your people are all that stand between me and complete Imperium control. And I'll find thembelieve me, I willwith or without you, that simpering little Sententian
or
my machine!"
A malicious smirk stole across his face. "Not that you'll live to see it, of course. You've more than served your purpose. At sol rise, we'll finish you off, once and for all."
The sky was a leaden gray. Dark clouds, heavy with moisture, covered the horizon like angry monoliths. In the distance thunder reverberated, jagged lightning illuminating one cloud then another with its sickly yellow brilliance. Fierce winds groaned through the trees, stampeding the electricity-charged clouds before its awesome force. The midsummer storm would be here in but a few moments, Liane realized from her place on the fortress parapets, and with it the heaving torrents of rain.
Rain, she mused, watching the scene below of a bound and drugged Cat Man being led outside the city walls to his execution. Rain would feed the thirsty land and nourish life, but that same rain would fall on a man's lifeless bodya man unjustly executed because he dared defy the enslavement of his planet. With a shudder, Liane shook off the traitorous thought.
Why should she care what happened to the Cat Man? He was an enemy to her people. That much had been evident in his crude conduct toward her. Why, he'd all but mentally raped her during the mind seek, then nearly killed her with the force of his own psychic powers. Yet the surprising pleasure of his mental touch at the forest pool lingered with a strange, aching sweetness.
Perhaps the true source of her frustration lay in the fact that it didn't really matter what she felt or thought. He would die, and there was nothing she could do about it, except be witness to his death. She wondered if he even knew she' was hereor cared.
The wind was whipping the trees of the nearby forest to a surging frenzy. Thunder boomed closer now. The Bellatorian guards swung Karic around toward the fortress of Primasedes to face his executioners. Karic thought he caught a glimpse of a slim, dark-haired femina high up on the parapet, then the press of curious onlookers on the walls blocked his view.
No matter. In but a few moments he'd be dead, seared to a smoking pile of charred remains by the lethal blaster guns. He struggled to rise through the tranquil, drug-induced haze.
Curse the Bellatorians! If he were to die he wanted to die clearheaded and defiant, not like some docile pack equs.
With an effort, Karic shrugged off the hold of the two guards, his stance widening to support his sudden dizziness. A gloating chuckle reached his ears, and his head swung up in angry recognition.
Necator had arrived to lend official witness to the execution. "Not so brave nor proud now, are you, Cat Man?" he snickered. "Most men aren't when death is but a few secundae away. Are you already regretting your decision?"
Karic glared at him.
His enemy gave a mock sigh. "Too bad. You sealed your fate when you tampered with my machine."
"You won't win," Karic rasped, "no matter what you do to me. Someone will always rise to fight you and your kind." The wind whipped around them, nearly knocking both men off their feet. A blinding flash of lightning exploded above their heads, followed a split secundae later by thunder. The air crackled with electricity. With a wild cry, the gathering outside the walls fell to the groundeveryone, that is, but the Cat Man.
The sudden advent of the lightning boded his hope of salvation. He wheeled about, his heavy lethargy washed clean in the surge of excitement left in the lightning bolt's wake. Though his arms were securely bound behind his back, his legs were free.
Karic used them to full advantage. He sprinted across the open field that lay between Primasedes and the forest, agilely weaving back and forth in a zigzag fashion to avoid the blaster guns he knew would be swiftly aimed at him.
His quick reaction gained him a few precious secundae before the Bellatorians reacted to his escape. With a shout of outrage, Necator directed the guards to shoot. Bursts of blue fire exploded around him as Karic nimbly dodged his way toward the beckoning trees.
There was hope now as the forest grew ever nearer. Once within its dark safety the blasters would be useless. Once within the forest, he'd be back in his element. He quickened his pace until he thought his heart would burst from the effort.
He was almost there when a sharp, searing pain slashed through his right thigh, nearly toppling him over. Karic staggered, then righted himself, though he hardly could see where he was going. He had to make it to the trees!
Karic stumbled into a large tree trunk before he realized he'd reached his sanctuary, and he stood there gasping, as much for air as for the excruciating pain that vibrated through his leg. If he lost consciousness now, it would all be over. Karic forced himself to limp on.
He thought he heard voices, fading fainter and fainter, but perhaps it was only the murmur of the wind-tossed trees and distant thunder. After a while it didn't matter. Time melted into a meaningless haze. The effort necessary to put one foot in front of the other, to drag his torn and bleeding leg behind him, required all his concentration.
He must go on, escape, get back to his people.
It began to rain, at first a gentle patter that intensified to large, heavy droplets and then an outright downpour. The leaves underfoot quickly slickened, and Karic slipped and fell.
This time it wasn't so easy to pull himself up, as his strength rapidly ebbed. He lay there for a time, the rain drenching him and draining the warmth from his body. Then Karic stirred. He knew he had to find a hiding place soon, or they'd find him lying here.
When he rolled over on his side to lever himself up with his bound arms, he slipped again on the wet leaves. The effort cruelly depleted him of his remaining strength. When Karic tried again, he found he couldn't rise at all.
There was nothing left. Two sols without food and water, the endless neural torture, and now the massive blaster wound to his leg had finally sapped everything. He lay there in the cold dampness of a suddenly hostile forest, until exhaustion claimed him.
>
A strident baying woke Karic. For a moment, he couldn't fathom where he was. Then the frigid rain, pouring down through the trees, brought it all back. He was in the forest. From the looks of it, he'd slept nearly the whole sol away.
The usual benefits of sleep had eluded him. His tightly bound arms had gone numb horas ago, the deep leg wound throbbed fiercely, and his battered body still ached with exhaustion.