Rebel Princess(4)

"Kiolani." Cort Baran, the guard she'd met that first night, approached  her with something close to a smile on his face. "Workers come today to  build new quarters, so you get to broaden your horizons. Come."

Kass had attempted to talk with all three of her guards, but only Baran  had cooperated so far. Though nearer fifty than forty, Cort Baran had  kept his military figure and a full head of hair, only lightly salted  with gray. A retired Fleet engineer with a wife and two grown children,  he'd served on the Ares, Admiral Vander Rigel's flagship. Not a  coincidence that he'd served with Captain Rigel's father, of that Kass  was almost certain. And most importantly, she'd never seen the slightest  sign of a threat on Baran's round face or a sneer on lips that looked  ready to smile at a moment's notice.         

     



 

Boredom might be a serious threat. Cort Baran was not.

The burly guard's feet echoed on the faustone floor as he headed toward a  door that had not been opened since Kass arrived. She watched over his  shoulder as he keyed in a code.

The goddess be praised. Something new. Something besides four gray walls  and a sani-closet. She'd already counted the plasticrates four times  and estimated the height of the jumbled metal shelves, if they were  assembled properly, at least six times. And nearly every waking minute  of every day she'd wondered if Tal Rigel was her savior or a villain  lower than a Sorian slimesnake.

The mystery door opened. Oh! Disappointment. Surprise. Closely followed  by a strong surge of excitement. What, Kass wondered, was so precious it  was hidden by a door inside a door? Before them loomed a huge,  circular, fan-louvered door, as solid and imposing as a bank vault.  Baran entered a second key code, pressed a silver button, and the  fan-blades rotated, sliding open.

Cold air hit her like an ice storm as they stepped through, but it  wasn't the temperature that made her gasp. Books, real books made of  paper, filled a vast room. Stacked on now familiar black metal racks  four meters high, the rows of books stretched into . . . infinity.

Kass knew Regulons had a passion for great civilizations of the past,  but this was . . . astounding. Paper books were precious, fiercely  guarded by their owners, almost revered. And here was what must be the  greatest collection of books in the known galaxy.

"The Regulon Interplanetary Archives," Baran announced. "I am told you  may go anywhere within this space. The door at the other end is as solid  as this one, and to that you will not have a code. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Do you mean I may walk among the books, or may I touch them . . . read them?"

For a moment her primary guard's glance was almost fatherly. "My orders  are that you have been granted full use of the Archives. Why a prisoner  is granted this special privilege I do not know. You must have friends  in high places, Kiolani.

Higher than Tal Rigel, Kass thought, for even he couldn't have managed this on his own.

"You will stay here during the day until the workmen are finished,"  Baran added. "After that, you may come and go as you please." He rattled  off the codes to both doors, gave her a curt nod, and left.

Kass didn't even notice the door's giant fans whoosh shut. She simply  stood, frozen in awe, staring at towering racks filled with the most  fragile portion of the Interplanetary Archives of the Regulon Empire.

And that wasn't all, she discovered when she finally ventured to  explore. In a small cubicle just inside the vault door she found a comp  unit, an older model, but it readily wheezed to life, opening an  inventory of the millions of dusty volumes. And . . . Kass's heart  thudded against her rib cage, her pulse soared. Tears rolled freely down  her cheeks. She had access to everything, absolutely everything the  library contained, not just paper books but every electronic file, fact  or fiction.

Oh, blessed goddess! She was no longer alone.





Chapter 3


By the official calendar of Regula Prime

Four days later

Kass had seen prison cells on megavids and on her portapad. They were  nothing like the room the workmen erected on the streetside wall of the  Archive's storage room. It was nearly three times the size of regulation  prison cells. No window, of course, but it had good lighting, cheerful  yellow walls, and a real bed instead of a cot. A small corner of the  room had been enclosed to make a closet. And, thank the goddess, a  second new door opened onto a spacious private bathroom with a sink,  counter space, a sani-fac, and spacious shower. Most amazingly, there  were two tri-photos, in-depth studies of Psyclid's most spectacular  panoramas, Mingo Falls tumbling fifty meters into a mountain lake and a  full Blue Moon rising over the dark, white-capped Azulian Sea.

So perhaps Tal Rigel wasn't a Sorian slimesnake. No. Even a Fleet  captain didn't have this much power. At least she didn't think so,  although his family had credits to burn. Had he turned to his father,  who was not only a Fleet Admiral but a member of Regula's Council of  Twelve?

However it happened, she wasn't about to complain-although visions of a crushed portapad and handheld danced through her head.

Ungrateful wretch! Kass stripped and headed for her brand-new shower.  She breathed a sigh of pure pleasure as hot water gushed out. Conditions  will be stark at first, but they will improve. He'd certainly got that  right. Thank you, Captain. Or whoever you are.

On the fifteenth day after Kass was abandoned by her kidnappers, Cort  Baran came into the Archives and plopped a small gray plasticase onto  the desk next to the comp keyboard. Was it? Kass's fingers fumbled on  the clasps. Bless the goddess! A portapad. As much as she was enjoying  the infinite treasures of the Archives, she longed to find out what was  happening outside. This was it. News at last.         

     



 

"No messages," Baran told her, "in or out. All blocked, but everything else is yours to explore."

Kass's thanks was automatic. She was already powering up the unit,  searching for news. Huge headlines took up almost the entire viewscreen:  OCCUPATION COMPLETE. PSYCLID OURS.

Well, of course it was theirs. The only surprise was that it had taken  the Regulons fifteen days. Nearly four years since she'd been home, but  Kass could picture it quite clearly. All the Regulonss had to do was  land, march to the palace, and take the king and queen into custody.  Psyclid warships were nonexistent, the Psyclid army little more than a  king's honor guard. Kass supposed it had taken the Regulons that long to  spread out into the countryside, seizing control of every city, town,  village, and farm. Eagerly she scanned the articles about the short war,  searching for news of the fate of the royal family. Since the Regs were  known for disrupting the citizens of conquered planets as little  possible, ensuring their ability to serve the empire as they once served  their own countries, Kass allowed herself to be optimistic. If, as she  soon discovered, the members of the royal House of Orlondami still  resided in the palace, then it was likely the rest of population was not  suffering too severely from the Reg occupation. Provided, that is, the  official press releases weren't lying.

Which was good, if true. Like her own fate, it could have been far worse.

Before Kass applied to the Academy, she'd known there were factions in  the Regulon military that might make her ashamed to wear the uniform.  Yet she so wanted to soar into space, to be part of discovering what was  out there, that she ignored the bad while embracing the good. And look  where that landed her. Solitary confinement in a storage room.

Fifteen days. What had the captain meant by "a very long time"? The war  was over. Could she not be repatriated with a minimum of fuss?

A lot of credits had gone into making her life as a prisoner less stark.  Not a project undertaken for someone who would be incarcerated a mere  fifteen days.

Pok!

By the official calendar of Regula Prime

Two years, three months, and five days later

Why?

Kass had her portapad open, checking the latest news bulletins from  Regula Prime to the far corners of the Nebulon Sector, at least a third  of it now in Regulon control. But the why of what she was still doing in  a storage room in the Regulon Interplanetary Archives continued to  escape her. A very long time. Well, dimi! Surely the captain hadn't  meant this long. What were they saving her for? If the Regulon High  Command wanted to tear her brain apart looking for anomalies, for  reasons why trajectories malfunctioned, surely they would have done it  long since.

A face suddenly obscured the viewscreen-a face that haunted her night  and day. A pair of blue eyes, sharp as a bird of prey's. Golden blond  hair cut military short. Angular features that managed to be handsome in  spite of looking as if they'd had been hacked from primal stone. Tall,  strong, arrogant-as Reg ruling families always were. Powerful.

Talryn Rigel.

There had been other times in history when men who looked like Tal Rigel  had shaken the world. Viking warriors and the Nazi SS came to mind. But  Tal Rigel's eerie resemblance to the ultimate Aryan made no difference.  He was her constant companion. She drew on his strength to keep her  sane. Fantasy . . . but what else did she have? He would come for her.  One of these days, Tal would come for her.