Chapter Five: A Search For Answers
Miles above in the darkness of space, RedEye expertly guided the craft towards the sector in which the comet had been seen. The small craft Frostor set him up with was impressive, well built, and far nicer than anything he had piloted before. He checked the sensors, and frowned at the readings. There was a massive energy field dominating the HUD, and the closer he got the comets coordinates, the larger the field got. Finally, the sensors affirmed visual contact, and he looked at the vid screen. His jaw dropped.
It was almost like he was flying by another planet, the comet was so humongous. He couldn’t even see all of it in the vid screen, just a huge, rocky mass. Crystalline structures covered the behemoth, shimmering like millions of wicked teeth in the light that the systems sun cast on it. Its tail was like another entity unto itself, with what he guessed were hundreds of other smaller meteoroids and the like caught in its gravitational wake. It blazed with an unholy red light, which struck him as unusual... comets didn’t usually have such brightly colored tails, but he supposed this one could definitely be an exception or an anomaly of some sort. Tearing his eyes away from the awesome sight, he made sure he kept his distance from the comet’s huge wake. He had no desire to end up as one of its “groupies”.
RedEye adjusted the computer’s sensors to compensate for the huge amount of energy disturbances. “Computer,” he addressed the console, and waited until it computer beeped in response. “Plot target’s trajectory,” he commanded. The computer beeped again in compliance and displayed the comet’s ultimate destination, taking all newly gathered data into account.
“Shit,” RedEye muttered, shaking his head. The news was not good. Not only was the comet going to impact Plundarr, it was going to take out the entire system. If the course remained unchanged, it would first blast through the Ice Moon Lixuvekh, which would be the farthest out in its orbit. Mere hours afterward, it would pass by Mirindet and Nokotoraek, his dark home moon, it would pull those two Moons out of their orbits and into its tail—killing everyone on them in the process—until it finally collided directly into Plundarr’s equator, in a volcanic region. The explosion would be catastrophic, and it would hit Plundarr with enough force to cleave the planet into several pieces, which would in turn destroy the remaining Plundarrian Moons and nearby planet of Thundera with disastrous atmospheric disturbances from the impacts of the debris.
The unsettled darkling jumped in his seat when the communication screen announced an incoming transmission. Shaking away the fearsome visualization of the end of life as he knew it, RedEye pressed the button to accept, and Frostor’s haggard face appeared.
“Well?” he asked. There was a small glimmer of hope in the ice general’s eyes.
RedEye sighed, as he knew his words would smite that hope in an instant. “It’s heading straight for Plundarr, no doubt about it,” he replied grimly, feeding the Third Moon’s computers the information he’d gathered via satellite link. He then automatically began maneuvering the small craft back towards the Third Moon now that his work was done. At least, he tried to.
The look on the darkling’s usually neutral features did not go unnoticed by Frostor. “RedEye?” Just then, RedEye’s craft lurched suddenly, and the dark-dweller swore profusely. He had inadvertently veered too close to the comet.
“What’s wrong?” shouted Frostor, leaning closer to the vid screen. RedEye ignored him and gripped the controls, hoping his error wouldn’t cost him his life.
“What’s going on, Frostor?” Alluro asked from behind him. He and Chilla had just returned from their walk, during which he told her everything, stressing the importance of keeping it quiet. She was, naturally, disturbed by the news, but she insisted on going with him to keep an eye on RedEye with Frostor. The Governor General hadn’t been pleased that she’d been told against his direct wishes, but he supposed at this point it didn’t matter, and frankly he felt Chilla was far less a security risk than Luna, who much to his dismay had wandered off at some point. He’d have chased her down to keep her out of trouble, but at the moment RedEye was his primary concern.
But Frostor’s sudden change of attitude was disturbing to Alluro and Chilla. He turned to the psychic, an urgent look in his eyes, when he heard Alluro’s voice from behind. “RedEye’s in trouble,” he exclaimed, the words hung in the air for a tense moment after he spoke them.
Chilla pushed forward, standing slightly in front of Alluro, who knew better than to get in her way. “So what are you doing standing here instead of trying to help him?” she shouted angrily. Standing around doing nothing wasn’t going to do any good, Armageddon or no.
Alluro placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head silently. He knew all too well why Frostor was doing nothing. There was nothing he could do.
Back on the ship RedEye’s hands flew desperately over the ships controls, praying to any gods that could hear him to get him out in one piece. Threatening to break apart at any moment, the small craft shuddered violently. In a desperate effort to get away, RedEye cranked the thrusters to maximum, and rerouted all available power to the engines. Soon the cockpit was bathed in hellish red light as emergency lights lit up left and right.
“Structural Integrity at 52% and falling,” the computer informed him in its gratingly pleasant monotone. A snarl formed on RedEye’s face, and a yell built up in his throat. Amazingly, the communication vid screen was still active. He vaguely heard Frostor shouting to him, but he ignored it. He had more important things to contend with.
Suddenly struck with an idea, he started to angle the craft so that it would drift up and out of the gravity field, with a little help from the engines of course. Clenching his jaw determinedly, he willed the ship to move, and ever so slightly he began to escape the comet’s pull. Unfortunately, the escape was tossing the little ship around like a tin can.
“Structural Integrity at 40% and falling. Hull breach eminent.”
He winced and physically pushed the controls harder, even though it was already close to maximum and if the computer was to be believed, all in vain. Gunning the engines one last time, RedEye blew free of the comet’s deadly hold and rocketed towards the Third Moon, the abruptness of his release so startling that he slammed his head into the console before him and fell unconscious.
On the other end, the staticky connection became garbled and started break up. Frostor’s voice rose to a shout and he slammed the console before him in frustration. “RedEye? Come in!” he shouted urgently. The last thing he had heard before the vid link finally broke completely was that a hull breach was eminent—not a good thing to hear.
At that grim ending, the three Lunatacs all stood in silence, the only sound in the room the raspy static coming from the speakers of the blanked out vid screen.
“My the Moon gods speed you to heaven,” Frostor said softly, touching the empty screen. He had known there was risk involved, but he never actually thought the darkling would die on a mission only meant to gather information, and he was greatly saddened. The fact that the smaller screen on the console, the data transfer interface, blinked a “file transfer 100%” was only a small comfort.
Chilla blinked in outrage. “He’s not dead!” she said defiantly, storming over to the console.
Alluro reached to place his hand on the upset ice woman’s shoulder. “Chilla—” he started, his voice considerably subdued.
“No! I have more confidence in him than you two apparently do!” she snapped. “RedEye isn’t some inept rookie pilot that would let a big chunk of rock take him out!”
Alluro watched his mate with sad eyes. He did not share her optimism, or was it denial? Either way, he knew more about the physics and technical aspects of space travel than she, and he could not believe her convictions so easily. He understood that she was upset. If there was one other Lunatac Chilla had been even moderately cordial to on Third Earth, it was RedEye. He wasn’t really sure about the nature of the relationship, but he knew that they had been somewhat close at some point, though he had its doubts it was anything beyond the fact that he wasn’t an intolerable and bossy shrew like Luna or a drunken sleaze like TugMug. Still, she was practically livid, her body very rigid, her hands curled into tight fists.
“He isn’t dead,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes. As if on cue, the vid returned to normal, and the connection resumed. RedEye was partially visible on the screen, but it was obvious he was in no condition to reply. Chilla pointed to screen triumphantly. Alluro smiled despite himself, while Frostor exhaled loudly and promptly picked up a communicator and ordered anyone who was on the airfield to retrieve the damaged craft. Chilla met Alluro’s gaze. “I knew it,” she said smugly, quite pleased with herself.
“You did,” Alluro affirmed, reaching for a communicator himself.
“Who are you going to call?” she questioned.
“His fiancée,” Alluro said with a perfectly straight face, inwardly smiling at her shocked reaction. “She would want to know about this, don’t you think?” His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he tapped in the frequency, while a stunned Chilla looked on.
Across the room, Frostor ended the call to the rescue team, who told him they would check in once they reached him, which they estimated might take up to a half hour. He sighed and printed out the data and pictures RedEye’s ship had sent via satellite link. He could delay it no more. Selene had to be told.
“Chilla,” he said, tapping the ice woman on the shoulder.
She turned around just as she heard Alluro ask whoever was on the other end of his call if a lady named Aurora was present. Frowning slightly, because she couldn’t listen, she faced Frostor. “Yeah?”
“I need you to do me a favor. I need to find Selene and Psiarik and tell them about the comet. I had hoped to keep this quiet and that it would turn out to be nothing that they needed to be burdened with, but it’s clear now that we have no choice. Please page me on my personal communicator as soon as the rescue team checks in, if I’m not back.”
Chilla nodded, as she listened to both Frostor and what she could of Alluro detailing to the mysterious Aurora what had happened with RedEye. It still shocked her that RedEye had a fiancée. He’d never struck her as the flirtatious type, and certainly not the type interested in things like romance. But those were all questions that could wait until much later. She gave the ice man a definitive nod when he finished, and he turned and walked out. Chilla, in the meantime, waited.
* * *
Selene was having her afternoon lunch with Psiarik, as well as Darkail, and they were discussing Cheetara’s arrival and its possibilities, when Frostor entered the dining hall. All three of them turned around as he entered, his heavy boots sounding loudly against the polished wood floor. “Frostor, are you all right?” Selene inquired, noting the distressed look on his face.
“To tell the truth, no, I’m not. I’m afraid I have some very bad news.”
Psiarik frowned, while Darkail regarded Frostor with a raised eyebrow. “What kind of news?”
“There’s a comet headed for Plundarr. Specifically to the Draco region, a chain of islands on the equator itself. Given calculations from these data,” he said, setting the folder on the table, “the impact will smash the entire planet, as well as Lixuvekh, apart, it will pull two of our Moons permanently into its tail, and the fallout will destroy the rest, and Thundera too.”
“My gods,” Selene gasped.
Psiarik paled at the news. “It’s the comet I dreamt about, isn’t it?” He reached for the folder and began thumbing through it without waiting for an answer, while Darkail addressed Frostor.
“When is this happening? Are they sure? Could the course be wrong?”
Frostor let out a weary sigh. “Very soon, yes, and no, not according to the various scientists and computers who have done the calculations.”
“But it can be veered off course, can’t it? We’re one of the most technologically advanced civilizations there is!” Selene exclaimed.
“I doubt it,” Frostor said. “It’s moving a speed that should be impossible for something that size, and the speed varies. It’s somewhat of an anomaly, I’ve been told. We may have as little as two days, or as many as ten. That’s not enough time to coordinate the sort of force we’d need to take it out, and even then, the fragments would cause catastrophic disasters all over the Moons and both planets. It would pale in comparison to what happened here when Thundera exploded.”
“If it’s that unpredictable, isn’t it a possibility it could veer away altogether?” Darkail questioned.
“It’s a possibility,” Frostor conceded, “but it seems highly unlikely. In fact, from what the scientists have outlined, the erratic changes in its course have almost seemed exacting… as though it’s honing in on us, and taking perfect aim.”
Psiarik, who was eyeing the computer printout pictures of the comet with a horrible sense of déjà vu in regards to his dreams, shoved them roughly back into the folder. “That’s ridiculous, Frostor,” he growled. “You’re saying that it’s aiming at us? Like it has a mind of its own? A consciousness? Frostor, it’s a gods-damned comet!”
“Did it occur to you that it might? You’re as much empath as you are seer, and I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the dream that could be interpreted as telepathic contact from some consciousness.”
“What dream?” inquired Darkail.
“Psiarik dreamt of a deadly comet the other night,” Selene explained, fighting back a nauseous feeling of unease.
“I also dreamt about an albino lizard and a shape-changing sword,” he snapped sarcastically. “But I don’t see them in the pictures.”
“Losing your temper won’t change anything, and it will only make things worse at this point,” Frostor replied, the weariness and his own fast-fading patience in his voice clear. “We need to think of a solution, and fast.”
“We could order an evacuation of the Moons.”
“And the spaceports would be crowded and rioted until the end. Lunatacs would be killing each other for precious space on ships, of which we don’t have even close to what we would need to get everyone off the planet, assuming we had enough fuel for them all and enough time to organize it. And there would be no guarantee that what ships did escape wouldn’t be yanked right into the comet’s gravitational force.” Frostor left out what personal experience he had of it, with RedEye. He didn’t want to let them know how that turned out, until he heard from the rescue team.
“No, an evacuation wouldn’t work,” Darkail agreed. “It failed miserably for Thundera, and they had months’ warning.”
Selene slumped into her chair. “What do we do?”
Frostor glanced at Psiarik. “Your dream mentioned a sword, and the white mutant—”
“Oh, fuck the dream,” he shouted. “You know damn well that a sword can’t take out something like that, even if we somehow managed to merge the three swords again. It wasn’t the same blade, and in case you haven’t forgotten, Ratar-O is dead, and with him, the Sword of Plundarr is without a holder.” He slammed his fist against the table. “And don’t even tell me to figure out who the albino is.”
Frostor’s patience finally gave out. “What in the name of the Moon gods blazing hells is the matter with you?” he shouted, hissing a blast of ice at the table, effectively freezing over the platter of sandwiches. “Do you think I haven’t gone over this and asked all these questions? Do you think I would sit here and ask you these questions if I didn’t have a damned good reason? Cut this melodramatic carrying on and be rational, for crying out loud, because it’s getting us nowhere!”
“I’m not the one standing here insisting that a little dream analysis and a big sword is going to save the world,” he retorted.
Selene let out a frustrated noise, but it was barely audible over their shouting. Darkail frowned and stepped between them, his Hunter eyes flashing with warning. “Both of you need to calm down before we can discuss this further. Going at each others’ throats will accomplish nothing.”
Frostor took a deep breath and stepped back. “You’re absolutely right, and I have somewhere to be anyhow. I’ll be back shortly. By then I hope we can discuss this. Rationally,” he added, with a pointed look at the irate Psi, before he stormed out.
Pushing aside her own feeling of dread, Selene walked over to Psiarik and laid a hand on his arm. “Darkail is right, you need to calm down.”
The psychic glared at the door. “Frostor doesn’t need to lecture me. I haven’t been a child for well over ten years, and he’d better damn well stop treating me like one.”
“If you reined in your temper, he’d have no cause to,” Darkail murmured quietly.
“Don’t start,” Psiarik growled.
The Hunter met his gaze coolly and nodded. “Whether you’re angry or not, this has to be dealt with… and someone should tell the Thundercat.”
“Great,” Selene sighed. “Just what I’m sure she doesn’t need to hear, after I’ve burdened her with our mutant problems.”
“I think the mutants are the least of our worries,” Psiarik grumbled. Most of the ire was gone from his voice, but he was still clearly upset.
Selene considered for a moment, and then turned to Darkail. “Find her and tell her to meet me in the conference room as soon as possible.”
Darkail nodded and left, while Selene gathered up the folder Frostor had left behind. She glanced at Psiarik, who met her gaze and sighed. “You better leave me out of this one. Something tells me I’m not diplomatic company right now.” Selene smiled understandingly, gave him a quick hug, and headed off on her own.
* * *
After what seemed like an eternity to Chilla, Alluro ended the call to RedEye’s would-be mate, and met her gaze. The dire circumstances facing them all somehow made her curiosity about it that much more amusing, and a welcome light subject to focus on for a moment or two. “What?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
“So who’s the fiancée?”
“Why are you so interested?” Alluro questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me a part of you harbors a secret crush on RedEye.”
Chilla frowned icily, not in true anger, but in annoyance that Alluro was clearly getting such a kick out of teasing her. Much like Alluro, she found it easier to indulge in the shallow gossip as opposed to facing the impending doom all around. “I should hope you know by now that my taste is more for the tall, purple, and egomaniacal,” she snorted.
Alluro grinned and pulled her close. He stared into her eyes for a moment, reading them as he often did. Though he was primarily a hypnotist by trade and talent, like all mind-benders he had a shade of empath in his psychic-born abilities. It was through that channel that the best of hypnotists could so successfully manipulate those they put into a thrall. He was not nearly as strong as a pure empath, who could read minds like their thoughts were spoken and feel things from others so strongly that psychic filters and blocks had to be developed, but he could still do a fair job of getting a sense of someone’s feelings if he tried. He’d leaned a long time ago that it was often a necessity—and strangely rewarding at times—to do so with Chilla.
“I know that,” he chuckled. “I was just curious as to why you were so curious.”
“Well, really, you know how RedEye is,” Chilla said. “He’s not exactly the gushing romance type.”
“Neither is TugMug, and he’s married now,” Alluro said, smirking. “You never know, he might even have a child or two by now.”
Chilla winced as she envisioned a junior version of her rotund past ally. “Gods, that’s a frightening thought.” She gave him a sly look. “But you still haven’t told me about Aurora.”
“You know, you’re turning into quite a gossip-monger, living in the ‘Tower. Did you pick it up from Riala?” he questioned, referring to the elderly half-graviton, half-Lunar maid that tended their quarters in the MoonTower. Though Chilla had a general disdain for the servants, she liked Riala, mostly because Riala always was pleasant and friendly to her without seeming superficial, she rarely screwed up, and best of all, she always had the lowdown on what was going on anytime, anywhere in the royal quarters.
“Are you going to tell me or not?” Chilla pressed.
As if on cue, the satellite-linked communicator sounded an alarm for an incoming message. Alluro hurried over to the console and answered. “Governor General’s office,” he stated, looking at the face of the lieutenant on the screen.
“You’re not Frostor,” he noted humorlessly.
Chilla picked up the communicator and paged him. “I’m calling him now,” she announced.
Alluro smiled back. “No, but I’m sure you’d be willing to tell the Queen’s father-in-law your news in his absence, wouldn’t you?” he said, his voice the embodiment of charm and persuasion.
The lieutenant swallowed nervously. “Oh, Lord Alluro, pardon me, I didn’t recognize you,” he stated. “Of course I can state our news. We’ve reached the stalled craft, and boarded successfully. Medics say that RedEye’s vital signs are normal, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet and they think he might have suffered a concussion. They wish to take him to the med bay when we get back, which should be within an hour.”
“Thank you,” Alluro replied. “Is there anything else?”
The military man shook his head no.
“Very well. Base out.” Alluro cut the communication and turned to Chilla, who was busy relating the news to Frostor over the comm link. When she finished, she clicked the communicator off and set it aside. “That’s a bit of good news,” Alluro said smoothly.
“Gotta have some I guess.” Chilla moved to his side and he slipped an arm around her shoulders. They stayed that way until Frostor returned.
* * *
Cheetara hurried toward the chamber Darkail had asked her to meet with Selene in, wondering why it was that she had been summoned. When she entered, her sixth sense alerted her to the fact that something was dreadfully wrong, though she didn’t really need that to confirm it. The demeanor of the normally cheerful Moon Queen was indication enough. The monarch appeared quite distressed by something, and she was gazing out the window absently.
“Selene?” Cheetara asked tentatively. The Lunatac jumped, and turned around to face her. The haunted look in her eyes told Cheetara that her instincts were right. “Sorry to frighten you...” the cheetah began.
“Oh, it’s all right,” Selene replied. The Lunar woman sat at the conference table and Cheetara did the same. Selene took the folder Frostor had given her and slid over the table to the cheetah. “Take a look at what that says.”
Cheetara eyed her, but took the folder and leafed through its contents. She began to feel ill. The pictures were that of a huge mass—a comet to be more specific. The calculations concluded that it was heading for Plundarr, and while she wasn’t an astronomer or physicist, it was pretty clear what it would do, especially when she saw schematics of its projected trajectory. “By Jaga…” she whispered, as flashes of her vision played through her mind.
Selene noticed the Thundercat’s sudden mood change, and leaned closer to her.
“Are you all right?”
Cheetara shook her head, and pushed the folder away from her. “By Thundera, it’s just like in my vision,” she said in a small voice.
Selene paled. “Vision?”
“I—I had a vision... this comet was part of it,” the Thundercat reluctantly admitted.
Selene was reminded of what Psiarik had related to her just a few days earlier. “Was there a strange sword in your dream, too?” she asked.
Suddenly, Cheetara’s eyes were upon her, and the cheetah stiffened in her seat, spooked by the Lunatac’s choice of words. “How did you know that?”
“Psiarik,” Selene explained. “He had a strange dream a few nights ago, about a comet, a sword, and a strange white reptilian.”
The description of the psychic’s dream was far too close to her own vision to be mere coincidence. “Where is he? Please, I must speak with him.”
Selene began a reply, but her door flew open, and Luna—and Amok, as always—barged in.
“Something terrible has happened to RedEye!” she screamed, waving her crop around. “That Governor of yours sent him on a suicide mission!”
Selene and Cheetara both gasped, and it was then that Luna noticed Cheetara in the room. She regarded the Thundercat with a scowl. “I had hoped that rumors of you Thundercats visiting were just that—rumors.”
“I had her invited here, Aunt Luna,” Selene interrupted sternly, before Cheetara could get offended. “She is a welcome guest.”
“It’s all right, Selene,” Cheetara said, eyeing Luna warily. “I don’t expect all the Lunatacs to greet me with open arms. I appreciate your hospitality.”
“Very diplomatic,” sneered Luna. “Now if you’ll excuse us, cheetah, I need to talk to Selene alone.”
“Aunt Luna!” Selene exclaimed, her voice taking on an authoritative edge.
Cheetara chose to ignore the tiny, shrill-voiced woman. “Selene, I’ll leave so you two can have privacy. In the meantime, where might I find your husband? If he and I are sharing the same dreams, I’m sure it’s significant.”
Selene nodded agreeably. “Of course. Do you recall where the dining hall is? I last saw him there. If he isn’t there, call security on one of the intercoms and they’ll find him for you.”
“Thanks,” Cheetara replied, and hurried out of the room.
Luna watched her leave, and once she was out of earshot, she approached Selene, whose expression grew far more agitated. “You didn’t need to act like that,” Selene berated her. “Now what’s this you’re saying Frostor did to RedEye? What suicide mission?”
“First off, Frostor didn’t even want me to tell you, but—” Luna started, before Selene interrupted her.
“If it’s about the comet, he already told me,” she said with a sigh, gesturing to the folder on the table. The photos Cheetara had been examining were in plain view.
“Hmph, well that’s one sensible thing he’s done,” Luna snorted. “But he didn’t tell you about RedEye?”
Selene shook her head. “No. I’ve barely heard mention of him in some time. What about him?”
Luna took a deep breath as she prepared to tell her the tale. “When Frostor found out about the comet, he told Alluro about it, but they conspired to keep it secret from me and you. Frostor thought you were too fragile to handle it, or some nonsense. I found out through some non-traditional channels—”
“You spied, didn’t you?” Selene inquired, pursing her lips in a look of mild disapproval. She genuinely cared for Luna, but she didn’t approve of the way she went about things at times.
“Selene dear, sometimes such things are necessary,” Luna argued with a dismissive wave. “Anyhow, Alluro apparently contacted RedEye and asked him to volunteer for a space mission to gather information from this comet, which they know is capable of destroying our Moons and Plundarr and Thundera.”
The Queen’s eyes widened nervously. “They sent a mission up? Frostor didn’t tell me that…” her voice trailed off.
“He’s good at keeping things to himself,” Luna remarked.
“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Selene said sadly. “Do you know if RedEye’s all right?”
“No,” Luna said with a shake of her head. “I left to find you right before they took off. But if the comet is that dangerous, it sounds foolhardy to me to be sending anyone when they could just as easily send a probe or something.”
“There’s only one way to find out. Come on, Luna,” Selene urged, starting for the door. “We’re going to find them.”
* * *
Cheetara peered into the dining hall, where she found Psiarik sitting at the table, his face stony and silent. “Excuse me,” she murmured from the doorway. The Psi man looked up and met her eyes with a less than friendly expression, but he didn’t tell her to leave, so she took a few steps in. “I realize this is a bad time, but Selene brought something to my attention that I think we need to discuss.”
Psiarik eyed her somewhat suspiciously, and then gestured for her to take a seat across from him. Cheetara strode over and sat down, and the psychic addressed her. “What is it?”
“Your dream,” the cheetah stated somberly. “And mine.”
“The comet dream,” he said quietly, his tone purposefully devoid of much emotion. “You had one as well?”
“Yes,” Cheetara confirmed. “At least, from what Selene told me, I gathered that it was close enough that we needed to compare them. I have a sixth sense, and sometimes visions come to me telepathically. I’ve heard that you have the same.”
“Not really visions,” the Psi corrected her. “Only dreams. I have dreams that sometimes turn out to be premonitions, but not like a true seer.”
“But you are empathic?”
He nodded. “In part. My mother was mostly empathic, with a bit of seer in her, and I suppose that’s where I get it from. Dad has a hint of it to him too, though he’s a whole other story altogether.”
“Can you tell me about your dream?”
The psychic’s expression hardened. “Tell me yours first.”
Cheetara was somewhat put off by his suspicion, but she supposed that the Lunatacs were as wary of trusting her as she was of them. “All right,” she agreed. “I dreamt of Ratar-O’s assassination, as though I witnessed it. His killer directed me to an awesome sight of a comet, so impossible in its magnitude that it wiped the stars out from the sky. It called itself—”
“Goroth Nug Jhahood.” Psiarik finished her sentence for her.
“It was the same dream, then.”
“So it would seem,” he murmured. “And the sword. Did you see the sword?”
“Not for long… its shape was fluctuating… and I couldn’t look at it, it was too intense, too draining,” the cheetah admitted.
“Neither could I. That was about the same time I awakened.”
“Did yours have anything else?” Cheetara inquired.
“I didn’t dream of the assassination in the detail you did. I never saw his killer, only that the walls were drenched in blood. But the one who told me the comet’s name—”
“Goroth Nug Jhahood,” Cheetara repeated, whispering the words like some forbidden phrase.
Psiarik nodded. “It was a strange mutant woman that whispered the words to me. An albino reptile.”
“I wonder what it all means,” the cheetah said, meeting the yellow eyes of the Psi.
He could only stare back with the same lost expression she wore. “I don’t know.”
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