CHAPTER 21: Political and Personal Intrigue

They were back in the interrogation room.

Alexander stood abruptly, and Nazeera stepped away from him. Her involuntary reaction to his fury had the opposite effect—it drained him of all anger.

He turned away from her, trembling at the re-enactment of his execution, and at his rage of her using it against him. Yet he knew why she used that moment and his other lives—in her position he’d have done the same.

“I’m not the Alexander you think I am,” he said softly. He glanced back at her, and his eyes lost their hard edge. “I’ve a great deal of respect for you, Nazeera—you’re an extraordinary woman. What you just did took guts. Therefore, I’ll tell you this: whoever I am, whoever you think I am, I have no malicious intent for you or for Chem.”

It a true statement and Alexander wanted to say it, but he also had an ulterior motive. It wasn’t what Nazeera expected. Her shocked expression told him he once again had the initiative. He was out of the emotional trap Nazeera put him in, and once again he could take an exterior view of his situation, analyzing it almost as if it were one of his past-life memories.

Nazeera could obviously see that he was no longer controlled by his emotions, and she sighed.

“Come on, Alexander, I think we both need a walk in the park after that.”

Alexander had a multitude of questions spinning in his head, but conflicting motivations stilled his tongue. As they flew in her aerocar to the park, sitting next to each other in uncomfortable silence, the calculating side to him weighed what he needed to know with what Nazeera’s impressions might be. The Terran side felt an inner need to part with Nazeera on amicable terms. It was one of those ironic quandaries. Alexander would much rather debate the Chem Assemblage than fence with this extraordinary and enthralling woman.

It was a misty afternoon in the park. The air was heavy with the scent of rain and wet earth. The fern shaped leaves dripped on the sodden path, but the rains were gone and the Chem sun sent golden shafts of light through rents in the clouds. Alexander and Nazeera walked in silence for a time. He couldn’t read her thoughts, but he was wondering how to say good-bye. Despite the difficulty of the circumstances he held no animosity for her. He was cognizant of the uneasy closeness in their brief relationship; something more than mutual respect and different than friendship.

Nazeera broke the silence.

“Alexander, I realize today was difficult. I want you to know that despite my misgivings I would rather have spent it in a more sociable manner. I have, I admit, enjoyed my time with you. I know I’ve told you this already, but it bears repeating. Pantrixnia and all it entails is not a personal vendetta of any kind. It was a purely practical decision when I first made it, and even then-when I knew nothing of you-it was not made with animosity. These are extraordinary times. The tempest brewing in the galaxy is many millennia in the making. We would keep the status quo, if we could, but those days are past. Much of what we knew, and much of what we care about will be swept away.

“You lament that your life has no purpose. Well, Alexander, be comforted—you’ve changed the course of galactic history. If it is any consolation, you’ve already made your mark.”

“It is not enough, I’m afraid, just to be a footnote in history,” Alexander told her, happy to hear a more personable tone in her voice. For some reason it mattered to him. “I’ve been that footnote often enough, Nazeera. Looking back on it doesn’t satisfy me in the least. I’m not quite done yet, you know.”

He stopped and picked a flower. It was similar in shape to an orchid. The petals were purple with streaks of what looked like flakes of gold. He sniffed it, finding the scent pleasant but not overpowering.

“I suppose I should’ve asked if it was poisonous or sacred first.”

Nazeera laughed, sounding sincerely amused. “It’s Vatalya, the Shield maiden’s Flower. Legend has it that Vatalya decides a warrior’s fate and guides the chosen spirits to their rest.”

“Like the Valkries,” Alexander smiled. “On Terra, it’s customary for a man to present a woman with a flower, usually a rose, as a token of affection and esteem. I can’t imagine a more suitable flower for the woman who will decide my fate.”

“Alexander, I don’t know whether you’re being cruel or charming,” she said, taking the flower.

“Take it in the spirit of our fireside rendezvous—which I’d like to revisit someday.”

“Alexander,” she began, sounding half scolding and half intrigued. She never finished. Quick as a snake Alexander’s hand shot out, grabbed her jacket where it plunged between her breasts, and thrust her down to the ground.

As Nazeera took the flower Alexander saw a dark shape dressed like a Ninja swoop out from behind the foliage directly at her back. The Ninja rode a small oval platform, like a flying surfboard. He aimed a blow with his armored fist at the back of Nazeera’s skull.

Alexander had no time to warn her. He pulled her down with his left hand and punched at the assailant with his right. His fist connected with the center of the Ninja’s masked face, and there was a frightful crunching sound as bone snapped. Blood spattered Alexander. The Ninja flew off his board and rolled in the wet earth. He came to a stop down the trail—a motionless heap.

Two other Ninjas flew out of the forest. One carried a sword in one hand and a knife in the other. The other carried a long forked spear and whirled a set of bolo balls. Before Alexander could react the bolo spun through the air and the balls whipped around his legs. The balls thumped painfully on his thighs, binding his legs. Fortunately, Alexander stood ready for conflict after the first attack, and his legs were planted firm and wide—he didn’t fall. The Ninja charged with his fork.

Alexander ducked beneath the spear, but just barely. The fork missed his head but creased his shoulder. Alexander thrust forward with his legs, throwing a shoulder block into the Ninja’s knees as he flew by.

The Ninja cried out as Alexander cut his legs out from under him. He tumbled over his shoulder and the board went flying off into the trees. The Ninja landed a meter behind Alexander, and he whirled and dove on the injured attacker. The Ninja tried to draw his knife, but Alexander pinned that arm to the ground and struck him once, twice, three times on the jaw. The Ninja went limp.

Alexander snatched up the knife. There was a whoosh behind him. Without looking he dove aside, but he felt the cut of a blade on his back even so. Ignoring the burning pain he cut the cords of the bolo. He got out of it just as the third Ninja turned backed toward him.

He snatched the spear and held out the forked tines as the Ninja charged. The Ninja thought better of the attack and pulled up and over Alexander, but not quite out of reach. Alexander jabbed upwards, catching the Ninja between his legs. He missed piercing the Ninja’s flesh, but the fork got caught in between the Ninja’s legs and sent him flying off the board. He tumbled into a tree, and struggled groggily to his feet.

Alexander pounced on him like a lion, lifting the Ninja off the ground. Viciously he tore the mask off, leaving a bloody weal across the dark flesh. His hand went to the throat, and then he stopped, frozen. The Ninja was a woman.

Her face transformed from surprise to fury, and she cried out. Her knife flashed. Alexander saw that it was going to penetrate his stomach—there was nothing he could do.

Something hot swept past Alexander’s ear and forehead. Then he heard the “Whoomph!” A deluge of hot charred flesh rained on Alexander’s face. He looked up to see half the Ninja’s head blown clean off. The knife fell from her twitching hand.

He let her go. She fell with a rumpled clatter.

Alexander turned to Nazeera, a stern gleam in his eyes. “Well, did I pass that test too?”

Nazeera holstered her gun, but shook her head. She touched the screen on her sleeve, and said, “I’m sorry Alexander that wasn’t my doing. I told you things have changed; this is part of what I spoke of. There are elements of Chem society that don’t want this to go any further.”

Alexander sighed, and winced at his cuts—they burned. “Your world is beautiful, Nazeera, but dangerous. I hope the next time I come back here it’s as a tourist, not a brigand.”

Nazeera laughed, as a trio of aerocars descended on them. There were military people and a medical team. They saw to Alexander’s wounds. He endured the attention stoically; more interested in what Nazeera was doing with the single surviving Ninja. Nazeera killed the one, and Alexander’s blow to the face killed the other. As it was, the medical team had to give a shot to the last Ninja to revive him.

When he came to he simply glared at Nazeera and refused to answer any questions.

“Very well, it’s Pantrixnia for you. Take him away!”

She came over to Alexander and got the report from the doctor.

“I’m phasing the dorsal wound now; it won’t be but a moment,” the doctor said. “He’s not seriously damaged; he’ll be fine for Pantrixnia.”

“Silence!” Nazeera roared, catching Alexander and the doctor off guard. The doctor actually dropped his instrument in his surprise. Before he could retrieve it Nazeera clutched him by the collar, and said in a venomous voice, “You are speaking of the Warlord of Terra—you will display the proper reverence! If you utter another word beyond the duty of your office you’ll join that other vermin on Pantrixnia, do you understand?”

“Yes, Lady Nazeera,” the doctor said in a shaky voice. He knelt before Alexander. “Accept my apology, Dread Lord, I mistook myself. May I finish my duties?”

“Get on with it,” Alexander frowned.

The doctor picked up his instrument and finished his work.

Nazeera ushered Alexander into her aerocar and they left the park with an escort.

“Thank you for saving my life, Alexander,” she said when they were alone again.

“You can thank me by having dinner with me this evening. Consider it a farewell gesture of respect to a formidable adversary, if there is no other proper way of accounting for it.”

Nazeera smiled, but told him, “I’m afraid I couldn’t consider it in any such way. You can be far too charming for your own good, Alexander. I can’t say more, except that as I’m married it would be socially unacceptable for my station. I’ll leave it at that. It was a good barb, though, Alexander, and well aimed. I’m justly chastised for my verbal dissections. Is that a product of your awakened memory, or did you always have that skill?”

“I don’t know that my past-lives have so beneficial an effect, Nazeera. I have a few pirates leering at you, a statesman admonishing them, a king too gloomy with guilt to care, and a Prussian too noble to whisper anything but attention to duty in my ear.”

“You have your own Assemblage trapped in your skull, I pity you, Alexander.”

“Don’t pity me, Nazeera. It’s been an extraordinary adventure. I count myself fortunate, not only for the opportunity history offers me, but for meeting you. You’ve made a grim adventure a wonderful experience.”

Nazeera smiled, but turned her eyes from Alexander, a deep blush flushing her features. “Alexander,” she said finally, “you are no doubt the strangest man I’ve ever met. You speak as though you’re looking back, with the full knowledge that somehow you’ll prevail in the terrible trials to come. I can’t fathom what’s going on in that Terran head of yours, but whatever it is, I’m one step behind. It’s my task, I remind you, to probe and interpret your reactions, not the other way around.”

“Don’t worry, Nazeera, if you knew everything about me you’d probably be even more confounded!”

Nazeera dropped Alexander off at his cell and left abruptly. It was a thoroughly unsatisfactory goodbye.

Alexander lay down on the simple bed drained and dejected. He regretted that his time on Chem was now at an end. What troubled him was that it was a personal regret, not a regret that he’d failed in his self appointed task. Beyond his limited ambition there was the hauntingly fascinating persona of Nazeera. The desire to know her better preoccupied him, making Alexander angry with himself for wasting what little time he had to mentally prepare for his coming ordeal.

He fell into a restless slumber.

Alexander snapped awake. Something or someone was in the darkness of the cell with him.