DONAR Page 12

  Nervously, Conran asked, “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

  Her voice cracking with pain and fear, Brianne answered in a chilling tone. “It’s terrible. I…I don’t even know what it is, except…”

  Edgily, Donar pressed, “What? Tell us, what?”

  “Something happened, back at the habitat and the lab. There were intruders. They…they

  did…something…and…” She could hardly bring herself to finish her thought, but she forced out the most dreadful words she could possibly say or that Donar and Conran could possibly hear. “They took the cralowog. They got into the lab and knocked out Burton and Sondra. And they got into the conservatory and took Damara! She’s gone! Damara is gone!”

  _______________

  At the same time as Brianne, Donar, and Conran appeared at the mansion, someone else arrived. Burton and Sondra had already called the Knights of Lacerta, and the Spires—the place in the planetary capital where the Knights were trained, from which they were all issued their orders—had sent two of Lacerta’s champions to investigate the intrusion on the Quist property and the taking of the cralowog.

  Dame Meline Gable and Sir Voran Sutter, clad in red, black, and silver armor skins, accompanied Brianne and the brothers directly to the lab. Meline, a green-eyed redhead, and Voran, a virile young man with deep blue eyes and light brown hair, got directly to business.

  The two other biologists, Brianne, and her two benefactors sat around a table in the lab while the two Knights stood and listened to Burton and Sondra’s account of what happened, reiterating in anxious, shaken, and somber tones what Burton told Brianne earlier.

  “Everything was fine. Nothing was out of the ordinary,” said Sondra, her hands clasped on the table before her. “Damara had climbed up into the trees to rest for the night—typical cralowog behavior. We didn’t expect it to be an eventful night. Then—it started. The holographic systems connecting the lab to the habitat shut off.

  We couldn’t get an image from any part of the conservatory. We couldn’t get anything back on line. We tried to call out to Brianne, but we couldn’t get a signal to transmit out of the lab. We realized then that something was very wrong. Burton decided we should go out of the lab, call Brianne, get some help. We headed for the door, and then…”

  Burton picked up, “…someone was already at the door. But…not exactly someone.”

  “Yes,” said Meline, remembering the report received at the Spires. “It wasn’t anyone human, or Lacertan. Or, technically, alive.”

  “An android,” Burton grimly confirmed. “Grey body, no facial features except for black eyes with red electronic pupils. Had to be an android.”

  A beat of tense silence took hold of the room. Androids were, so to speak, persona non grata on the planet Lacerta right now. Artificial organisms were held in profound suspicion and distrust, however irrational that might be, after the attempted invasion of the Scodax in which the aliens used automatons as soldiers. Since then, the only way anyone on Lacerta wanted to see an android was to look at the parts of deactivated Scodax androids on display in museums in the wake of the invasion crisis.

  Brianne watched Meline for her reaction to this detail. Meline Gable had battled alongside Sir Thrax Helmer against the Scodax. She had helped Sir Thrax and Agena Morrow defeat the Scodax and put an end to their assault on the planet. She had personally met Scodax androids in combat. This dragon Dame had prior experience in battling artificial adversaries. Brianne found Meline’s presence at least a bit reassuring.

  “This android doesn’t answer the same description as the ones the Scodax used,” Meline noted. “So, we can assume, at least until we know better, that this doesn’t have anything to do with them. The Scodax aren’t the only beings in the galaxy who use androids. Other planets use them for soldiers or laborers or any number of other purposes. In some parts of space, they’re illegal and traded on the Black Market. Considering the circumstances, we could be dealing with Black Market automatons. But go on, go over the rest.”

  “The rest,” continued Burton, “was I saw a flash of light and felt something like a fist slamming into my stomach. I was shot with some kind of force beam and I blacked out.”

  “The android did the same thing to me,” Sondra added. “We were out for a little while, maybe half hour or a little more. And when we came to, the android was gone, and all systems were back up again, as if nothing happened. Except outside…something had happened.”

  Sir Voran called, “Computer, display present status of the conservatory habitat.”

  A series of holograms glittered to life over the table. They showed the place in the dome where the entrance portal and a large section of the transparent enclosure were gone, simply sliced away, leaving the huge dome wide open for anything to enter or exit. They showed the place among the trees near the lake where large limbs and whole branches lay broken, shattered, and strewn on the ground. It was a heart-sinking sight.

  “From the looks of things,” said Voran, “there must have been more than one intruder, a group of them, likely all androids. They disintegrated the entrance to the dome, entered the habitat, found where the cralowog was sleeping in the trees, and brought it down—apparently after a struggle, judging from the condition of those tree limbs. They captured the cralowog and took it away.”

  Brianne’s voice was laden with anguish. “But where? Where could they have taken her, and why? What do they want with Damara? Who could have done this?” She looked down helplessly at her own hands on the table. Donar and Conran were deeply stung to see her in such a state of fear and dread; stung and angry at whoever had done this to her. The intrusion onto their property and the theft of the animal made them feel violated enough. But to see what this was doing to Brianne was almost more than either of the twins could bear.

  Conran was the first to speak up, putting out one word, one name. “Xorian.”

  All eyes turned to Conran. Donar nodded while Meline repeated, “Xorian?”

  Donar said, “Our uncle, Xorian Quist. When you received the report from Dr. Hawkes and Dr. Kimura, you might have seen reports from a couple of Mentors who were here at a reception for Brianne…”

  “Yes,” Meline remembered, “we did see a notation about that. It seems your Uncle Xorian was here and there was an altercation with you, and the Mentors escorted him off the premises. No charges were filed…”

  “We didn’t want to file any charges,” Conran said bitterly, “because we were tired of the bad press about Uncle Xorian from before. I spent a good part of that night personally doing damage control with the media about his interruption of our reception.”

  “From before,” said Meline. “The charges of illegal hunting on other planets, of interplanetary poaching of wildlife, against him and his sons.”

  “Right,” Conran frowned. “Those charges, which cast a shadow over our entire nest. We disowned Xorian and our cousins over that. They are not welcome on any of the family properties. They have no further shares of the Quist fortune but what they personally earned—or what the Commonwealth didn’t confiscate after they were brought up on charges. We have nothing to do with them anymore.”

  “Except,” Donar added, “it looks like they still wanted something to do with us.”

  Barely containing her growing horror, Brianne asked the twins, “You think your uncle had something to do with taking Damara?”

  “It’s the obvious first place to look,” replied Conran.

  “I agree,” said Meline. “Wherever the trail leads, I think it starts with him. To get some answers, that’s the first place we need to go.”

  Brianne bolted up from her seat. “Then we need to go to Xorian. Now. We need to confront your uncle and get the answers we need out of him. I want to know who took Damara and I want her returned, safe and unharmed. Immediately.” The tension in the room went up several notches as everyone watched Brianne shaking with fury and fear. Donar reached out and touched her on the arm, to calm her. It did
not help. Brianne was looking right at the Knights, demanding action.

  “We can get Xorian Quist’s address right now,” said Meline. “We’ll go and question him immediately.”

  Donar gave Brianne’s arm a squeeze, trying to reassure her. She looked down at him and Conran, and a knot of sympathetic anger twisted in both of them to see her, angry and heartsick, her lip quivering—with tears of mixed fear and fury welling up in her eyes.

  CHAPTER 13

  Atop one of the higher peaks outside Greenscale sat a villa, similar in style to the Quist mansion but smaller, on a property enclosed by trees. The official hovercar of the Knights descended to a landing in the stone courtyard in front of the villa, and Meline, Voran, Brianne, and the Quist brothers climbed out.

  The front entrance slid open at their trilling and a willowy-looking Lacertan female dressed in a simple off-white tunic greeted them. “May I help you?” she asked.

  “We’re here on official business,” said Meline, the badges on her and Voran’s armor skins in plain sight. “We need to see Mr. Xorian Quist. We need to ask him some questions.”

  “Mr. Quist is indisposed at the moment. I don’t believe he’s up to receiving visitors or answering questions.”

  “What do you mean he’s not up to answering questions?” barked Conran. “Who in the inferno are you?”

  “My name is Leticia,” said the woman. “I’m Mr. Quist’s nurse.”

  In unison, Conran and Donar blinked. They traded quizzical looks with Brianne. The three of them remembered Xorian’s uninvited visit to the mansion. They silently recalled Xorian being unsteady on his feet and walking with a cane.

  Firmly but gently insistent, Meline said, “We won’t take long if Mr. Quist isn’t feeling well. There’s a very important matter we need to talk to him about. If you could tell him we’re here…”

  The nurse bowed slightly and nodded. “You may wait in the foyer. I’ll inform Mr. Quist that you’re here.” And she saw them all inside.

  While Leticia withdrew to the upstairs of the villa, the group talked quietly among themselves.

  “He’s sick?” Donar wondered aloud. “So sick he’d need a nurse who I’m guessing is living here?”

  “We all saw the shape he was in when he came to the reception,” Brianne recalled. “He didn’t look as if he were faking that.”

  “Well, he obviously wasn’t too sick to come to our house and cause trouble that night,” Conran frowned. “Whatever shape he’s in, he’s been up to something for sure.”

  “If we can prove he was involved with the intrusion and stealing the cralowog, or at least that he knows who’s behind the androids, can you arrest him?” Donar asked the Knights.

  “It might not be that simple,” answered Voran. “It depends what he says when we question him, and how well he’s covered his tracks. We can put him under suspicion, make him a person of interest. We might not be able to press charges immediately. And if he’s badly ill, it might not be possible to have him taken off the premises. Best guess, I’d say the most we might be able to do at first is put him under house arrest and monitor all communications coming from and leaving this house and put the villa under surveillance.”

  “First things first,” said Meline. “And the first thing is getting some answers out of him.”

  Shortly the nurse returned from upstairs and addressed the group again. “Mr. Quist has agreed to meet with you,” said Leticia. “But you must keep it brief. It will be very taxing for him in his present state.”

  “Exactly what is his present state?” Meline asked.

  “As his caregiver I don’t discuss specifics,” Leticia replied. You’ll see when you’re with him. If you’ll follow me…”

  After some exchanges of concerned looks, the group followed the nurse back upstairs.

  At the end of a long corridor lay the door to Xorian Quist’s bedchamber. Touching the sensor to slide it open, the nurse ushered the Knights, the twins, and Brianne inside the private space. Here they found a master suite that reminded Brianne of the one at the Quist mansion, only smaller.

  At the middle of one end was a four-poster bed, ornately decorated with dragon carvings. In the bed, under a comforter, lay a figure drawing slow, deep breaths. Donar and Conran halted in their tracks at the sight of him. Brianne and the others stopped with them and, in spite of themselves, they stared mutely at whom and what they saw lying in the bed.

  Donar stammered, “U-Uncle Xorian…?”

  The man in the bed tilted his head towards them and regarded them through narrowed eyes. “Yes, boy,” he said in a hoarse and shaky voice. “It’s me.”

  Tentatively they all stepped a bit closer. “What’s happened to you?” Donar asked.

  “What does it look like?” the ailing old man asked back.

  Xorian’s skin was splotched and streaked with patches of morphed skin, as if his human skin had split open in places, revealing the scaly dragon skin beneath. His horns were partly grown on his forehead; his nose and lips were partly transformed. His ears were partly receded into tympanic membranes. He was weak and barely able to sit up with his pillows against the headboard. He looked at his nephews and coughed.

  “Don’t strain yourself too much,” Leticia cautioned.

  “Feh! It’s no strain for me to deal with these two,” Xorian rasped. “And they’ve brought other company with them, I see.”

  Conran addressed the nurse, as much guessing the diagnosis as asking what it was. “Senescent genetic syndrome?”

  “Yes,” Leticia confirmed. “It’s entering its advanced stages now.”

  This was grim news indeed. Every Lacertan, for his own health, needed to swim or bathe periodically in bodies of water with high concentrations of Draconite to restore his genetic stability. Without such baths or swims, a Lacertan’s genetic structure would break down, potentially to a fatal degree. In aging or elderly Lacertans, the genetic breakdown sometimes occurred regardless of the vital immersions. The condition was irreversible—and terminal.

  “How long have you been sick, Uncle?” asked Conran.

  “Does it matter to you?” Xorian replied bitterly. “Long enough. I’ve been out of your sight and out of your mind since I fell out with the nest. After losing my position in the family, this is my last indignity.”

  “We’re sorry, Uncle,” said Donar.

  “Feh!” Xorian reacted again, more sharply this time. “Spare me your feigned concern and compassion. Where were they when I needed them? And don’t appeal to me after everything that ‘we’re still family,’ which is where I predict you were about to go. Family made no difference before; it makes no difference now. What is, is. After tonight I expect we’ll never darken one another’s threshold again.”

  “We are not happy to see you this way,” Conran protested.

  “I’ll warrant you’re not happy to see me at all, nor I you,” the old man growled.

  Meline cut in. “Mr. Quist, we don’t want to take too much or your time or stress you too much. But there are some things we need to know about something that’s happened at your family’s estate…”

  “‘My family…,’” Xorian groused.

  Meline continued, “There are some things we need to ask you, some questions we need you to answer.”

  “Are there now?” responded the old man, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Yes, there are,” said Meline. “Earlier this evening, there was an intrusion on the Quist estate, both at the mansion proper and on the adjacent property, specifically the conservatory where Dr. Heatherton’s project with the alien wildlife specimen was being kept. The security and communications on the property were compromised. Apparently, a group of androids broke and entered. They stunned Dr. Heatherton’s assistants. They disintegrated the entrance to the conservatory and a section of the habitat dome. And they captured and took the animal. If you know anything about this intrusion—assault, property damage, and theft—you need to tell us now. Do you know who was responsible? Who s
ent the androids?”

  Xorian frowned, “Why do you assume I know anything about it?”

  Conran pointedly interjected, “It’s a logical assumption, Uncle, after you…”

  Voran interrupted him. “Please, Mr. Quist, you have to let us conduct the questioning.” To Xorian, he went on, “Mr. Quist, we’re aware of an earlier incident at the reception for Dr. Heatherton. There was a heated confrontation that night between you and your nephews. That’s made you a person of interest in our investigation.”

  “So,” said Xorian, in an almost taunting tone, “because I had words with my nephews then, you connect me with this crime on the family property now. The trail leads to me, is that it?” He settled back on his pillows and gave a wheezing, rasping chortle.