Read Online Slave Empire III - The Shrike by T C Southwell - Free Book Online Page A

at one of the screens. “Not anymore.”
    The monitor’s
readout had dropped to a flat line, and Endrin scowled at it in
horror.
    “Brain function
has ceased,” Jadon said.
    “Give me a
neural stimulator!”
    Endrin pushed
Semil aside and leant over the girl’s head, holding out his hand
for the instrument Jadon slapped into it. He pressed the pad to her
temple and activated it. The girl’s eyes fluttered closed, and she
gasped. The doctor moved the stimulator over her head, making her
twitch as it stimulated various parts of her brain. The others
stared at the monitor. It remained flat, and, after several
fruitless minutes, Endrin straightened, his heart heavy with
weariness and defeat.
    “It’s
hopeless.”
    “Her vital
signs have steadied.” Jadon indicated the green lights of the other
machines’ readings. “They’re all back to normal.”
    “She’s brain
dead,” Semil said.
    “But she’s
still alive,” Jadon said, as if they had not really failed as long
as she still breathed.
    Endrin turned
away, his shoulders slumped. “There’s nothing more we can do for
her. She’ll never wake up again. She might as well be dead.”
    “That’s not a
certainty.”
    The older
doctor swung around. “This should never have been attempted!”
     
     
    Tarke raised
his head as Scimarin broke the silence. “A message from Shadowen:
Rayne’s biorhythms have returned to normal.”
    The Shrike
straightened and ran a hand through his hair. “So, maybe they
weren’t as stupid as I thought. How long to Darmon?”
    “Twenty-seven
minutes.”
    “Let me know as
soon as she’s back on board Shadowen. I need a drink.”
    Tarke went to
the cabin and poured himself a glass of spicy Travin liquor, downed
it in a gulp and gasped for several seconds. When the burning in
his throat eased, he splashed his face in the bathroom before
returning to the bridge. The holographic clock told him that ten
minutes had passed, and the ship was decelerating towards Darmon.
He stared at the energy-sheathed screens, thinking about what he
would say to her.
    Rayne deserved
the truth; or at least as much of it as she could handle. He would
tell her gradually, in stages, to prevent the shock that might be
dangerous. For all her inner strength, she was as fragile as a
crystal flower from the windless world of Terrian, which the
slightest breeze would shatter. It would make her unhappy, though.
He smiled. She would want to fix it.
    “Still no word
from Shadowen?” he asked.
    “No.”
    “I wonder what
they’re planning now.” He frowned. “How many of my ships are in
position?”
    “Twelve ships
are within striking distance of Atlantean planets. No battles have
been engaged as yet, but Atlantean ships are shadowing some of
them.”
    “They’ll have
to hand her back, or face the consequences, which I know they don’t
want to do. Of course, they might also have what they wanted.”
    “It is
possible,” Scimarin agreed. “From her earlier physical distress,
they did probe her.”
    “That will
start a whole new chapter in our little game of ‘catch me while I’m
napping if you can’. Contact Tallyn. Let’s find out.”
    After a pause,
the ship replied, “He won’t accept your call. The stress shield and
energy shell have been deactivated on the facility. Shadowen is
transferring Rayne aboard now.”
    Tarke smiled.
“So, he’s keeping his word. I thought he might.”
    “A message from
Shadowen: you should transfer to him immediately.”
    “Why?”
    “He does not
say.”
    Tarke jumped
up. “Something’s wrong. Transfer me.”
    “I am still
decelerating, but parameters are within safety limits for shell
dispersal. Deactivating energy shell. Transfer, now.”
    Tarke glanced
around his old ship’s apparently empty bridge as the golden energy
vanished. “Where is she?”
    “At your feet,”
Shadowen replied.
    Tarke dropped
to his knees beside Rayne’s huddled form and rolled her onto her
back. She appeared to be