My friends, do you have idea what the strength of women is capable of doing?
It is capable of amazing things, my friends. Incredible things.
If, then, behind such a force, there is the powerful, irrepressible, impetus of love ... even if it's a love yet uncertain... yet unconscious ...
Such a force, in this case, becomes disruptive.
Nothing can stop it.
Not even death.
Do you have doubts?
So then read here.
Read...
It is capable of amazing things, my friends. Incredible things.
If, then, behind such a force, there is the powerful, irrepressible, impetus of love ... even if it's a love yet uncertain... yet unconscious ...
Such a force, in this case, becomes disruptive.
Nothing can stop it.
Not even death.
Do you have doubts?
So then read here.
Read...
Incredible, really! You will see!
But, on the other hand, what the hell can you expect from a liar of my kind?
A liar, in addition, who reports what has been written by that twofold, and triple, and quadruple, and so forth ahead, liar of my ancestor.
What a breed of liars, mine!
You know... our lies are so incredible that there's even to wonder if they, on balance, can't be truth.
But, on the other hand, what the hell can you expect from a liar of my kind?
A liar, in addition, who reports what has been written by that twofold, and triple, and quadruple, and so forth ahead, liar of my ancestor.
What a breed of liars, mine!
You know... our lies are so incredible that there's even to wonder if they, on balance, can't be truth.
Chapter Eleven
T'Pau flinched, dazed and puzzled.
What was that? Her mind? Tested to the extreme? Possible. Indeed more than possible. Greatly probable, not to say certain. Her brain, even more than her body, was failing. There are limits beyond which the spirit, even more than the flesh, is not able to go.
It was as if a silent yet deafening cry of invocation resonated in her brain. Desperate. Piercing.
T'Pau did not understand, neither what was happening to her, nor the words which that scream without a voice was telling her, even though the meaning was absolutely clear; and nor even if her mind, prostrate as and more than her body, was simply inventing that scream, that supplication full of anguish. But she felt perfectly the agony with which it was overflowing, the despair that filled it, whether it was simply a hallucination of her brain tested beyond all possibilities, or not.
And she felt she could not ignore that desperate plea. It was like a lash that forced her to act.
She had to, absolutely had to, stop the murderous hand of that despicable, sickening Human. Of Hayes.
The Earth soldiers would not have stopped her. Their eyes and their minds were fixed on their General and on the man, who had come out of nowhere, had sunk into nothingness, had resurrected from nothing and was now on the verge of falling back into nothingness. At last. Hopefully. T'Pau could almost touch the soldiers' thoughts. Their powerful emotions submerged her Vulcan sensitivity.
Illogical? Yes, of course! Even supposing that she could succeed in achieving her aim, that she could be able to find the strength she needed to throw herself against Hayes and to stop him, that man would have died, killed by Hayes immediately after her futile attack, which would have served only to infuriate Hayes. Nothing more.
But… and so what? She knew she should die, just like that man, just like Harrad-Sar. But maybe she would have been killed immediately, maybe Hayes would take revenge on her so, in that way, angrily and forthwith, sparing her what she knew he would do of her.
Better to die like that. Right away. Than ... than...
Better that way. Better that way!
And then, perhaps, if she had been able to act in the right way, the wrath of Hayes would have been such as to explode even against Harrad-Sar.
T'Pau knew he was lying to herself about Harrad-Sar. He was coveted prey, he was flesh for the Empress, was not ... was not, like her, flesh for Hayes.
But she could not bear the idea that Harrad-Sar...
No, she could not stand the thought of the torments that he would have to undergo.
And this was a further reason to risk it. At least, if she had died right away, whereas Harrad-Sar wouldn't and he would have to follow his horrible fate, the vision would be spared to her, the direct knowledge, of what ... they would have done to him.
So, go! Come on! GO!
T'Pau let go of the sore Harrad-Sar and stood up in a flash. Though wounded and exhausted as she was, she dashed forward. Towards Hayes. And towards the man lying on the ground whose life was about to be definitively snapped by the homicidal wrath of that savage beast in the form of man.
She rushed ahead in a fury.
But she was too far away.
Her Highness Hoshi Sato was on the rocks. She was even sweating. She was no longer even able to control herself.
"Damned! Come on! What are you waiting for? There is no longer time! Take them! All! Now! Teleport them all here! Right now. NOW!"
"Damned! Come on! What are you waiting for? There is no longer time! Take them! All! Now! Teleport them all here! Right now. NOW!"
Harrad-Sar flinched, dazed and puzzled.
What was that? It seemed his head was ringing with a sort of silent shout. It was as if a voice without words were desperately yelling to him to do something, to save that man.
Harrad-Sar did not understand, or perhaps…
Sure. It was him himself. Per force. What else, if not that? He was giving body to the shadows. His brain, tried out to the extreme, worn out, as and perhaps more than his body itself, was being lost. That despairing and distressing invocation was the voice of him, of himself, of the urge of his will to react, to rush to the aid of that unknown man who had tried to save him... and his petite Vulcan.
A flash of light, perhaps even this malevolent, in this malevolent universe to which all of them belonged.
But still a light.
That now was about to be switched off forever.
And that he did not want were turned off.
Yes. It was the urge of his will.
Of his impotent will.
He no longer had strength. He was hurt, bleeding, exhausted, and, as much the Earth soldiers were now all absorbed in observing their General on the point of driving back, once and for all and definitively, that man into the darkness from which he had returned and as much he was aware that no one of them now would have enough focus and presence of mind to think to promptly stop him, he could not do anything.
His mind ordered his body to get up, but his body disobeyed.
He grunted in frustration.
Oh certainly. He knew perfectly well that even if he had managed to stop the hand of Hayes, that man, like him and like T'Pau, would then die, all of them, equally, killed in the most cruel way. But it did not matter.
Did not matter!
Perhaps, in that way, Hayes would be pushed to kill him right away, blinded by rage, sparing him what he should have endure, afterward. Or at least, even if this hadn't happened, maybe it could befall to T'Pau to die right away. And this ... this would save her from what was in store for her.
But his body refused to be yet massacred by his crazy mind!
Damn body! Damn Empire! Damn Hayes! Damn…
But damn body, what? His body was smarter than his brain! He was too far away. Before he could get to throw himself on Hayes, still assuming that he were able to find the strength to do so, that man would already be dead, killed by Hayes and Hayes or his men would notice him and he would be blocked.
Harrad-Sar grunted again in the most fierce annoyance, but the grunt died on his lips.
He felt T'Pau let go of his head, and then, right after, he saw her stand up in a trice and fling forward. Towards the man and the damn Hayes.
To do - to attempt to do - what he could not.
But she, like him, was too far away.
Harrad-Sar imprecated loud, in an even more deeply thwarted exasperation.
Even if T'Pau had the strength, she would not have had time and what applied to him, also applied to her.
Hayes would have had plenty of time to kill the man and also to notice her, he or his men.
She too would be blocked.
And wouldn't be killed.
She would live.
To become palpitating flesh for Hayes.
What was that? It seemed his head was ringing with a sort of silent shout. It was as if a voice without words were desperately yelling to him to do something, to save that man.
Harrad-Sar did not understand, or perhaps…
Sure. It was him himself. Per force. What else, if not that? He was giving body to the shadows. His brain, tried out to the extreme, worn out, as and perhaps more than his body itself, was being lost. That despairing and distressing invocation was the voice of him, of himself, of the urge of his will to react, to rush to the aid of that unknown man who had tried to save him... and his petite Vulcan.
A flash of light, perhaps even this malevolent, in this malevolent universe to which all of them belonged.
But still a light.
That now was about to be switched off forever.
And that he did not want were turned off.
Yes. It was the urge of his will.
Of his impotent will.
He no longer had strength. He was hurt, bleeding, exhausted, and, as much the Earth soldiers were now all absorbed in observing their General on the point of driving back, once and for all and definitively, that man into the darkness from which he had returned and as much he was aware that no one of them now would have enough focus and presence of mind to think to promptly stop him, he could not do anything.
His mind ordered his body to get up, but his body disobeyed.
He grunted in frustration.
Oh certainly. He knew perfectly well that even if he had managed to stop the hand of Hayes, that man, like him and like T'Pau, would then die, all of them, equally, killed in the most cruel way. But it did not matter.
Did not matter!
Perhaps, in that way, Hayes would be pushed to kill him right away, blinded by rage, sparing him what he should have endure, afterward. Or at least, even if this hadn't happened, maybe it could befall to T'Pau to die right away. And this ... this would save her from what was in store for her.
But his body refused to be yet massacred by his crazy mind!
Damn body! Damn Empire! Damn Hayes! Damn…
But damn body, what? His body was smarter than his brain! He was too far away. Before he could get to throw himself on Hayes, still assuming that he were able to find the strength to do so, that man would already be dead, killed by Hayes and Hayes or his men would notice him and he would be blocked.
Harrad-Sar grunted again in the most fierce annoyance, but the grunt died on his lips.
He felt T'Pau let go of his head, and then, right after, he saw her stand up in a trice and fling forward. Towards the man and the damn Hayes.
To do - to attempt to do - what he could not.
But she, like him, was too far away.
Harrad-Sar imprecated loud, in an even more deeply thwarted exasperation.
Even if T'Pau had the strength, she would not have had time and what applied to him, also applied to her.
Hayes would have had plenty of time to kill the man and also to notice her, he or his men.
She too would be blocked.
And wouldn't be killed.
She would live.
To become palpitating flesh for Hayes.
The Empress' heart was a steaming lump foaming with rage and
frustration. "I do not grant you a second longer! I want here - right
now! Immediately! - Harrad-Sar, that Vulcan female and that man! THAT
CAPTAIN! ALIVE!"
The Orion girl flinched, dazed and puzzled.
What was that? She did not understand. But she was sure. She wasn't deceiving herself.
She had heard it. Inside her mind.
A cry. A shriek. Despairing. Ripping. Ear-splitting.
And beseeching.
And yet imperious.
"Save him!
It was not possible to shirk its recall, its pressing, desperate demand.
What was that? She did not understand. But she was sure. She wasn't deceiving herself.
She had heard it. Inside her mind.
A cry. A shriek. Despairing. Ripping. Ear-splitting.
And beseeching.
And yet imperious.
"Save him!
It was not possible to shirk its recall, its pressing, desperate demand.
Mayweather would have liked to restrain the Empress, but he himself
was almost unable to control himself. And, after all, she was right.
There was no more time, it was no longer possible to wait. Hayes ... that idiot was going to ruin everything. Including himself. Killing that man! But what had taken hold of Hayes' brain?
That man, that bastard dressed as a Captain of the Élite Guard, that unknown soldier with that strange Lirpa, who by some incredible witchcraft had managed to survive the deadly fire of that brainless war machine of Hayes, did not have to die.
He had to live.
He had to fall alive into the hands of the Empress.
Into his hands.
More, much more than Harrad-Sar himself.
Because that man could have been extremely helpful, could have known a lot of useful things.
But above all because… it could even have been that it was not that one, the first witchcraft of resurrection accomplished by that man.
There was no more time, it was no longer possible to wait. Hayes ... that idiot was going to ruin everything. Including himself. Killing that man! But what had taken hold of Hayes' brain?
That man, that bastard dressed as a Captain of the Élite Guard, that unknown soldier with that strange Lirpa, who by some incredible witchcraft had managed to survive the deadly fire of that brainless war machine of Hayes, did not have to die.
He had to live.
He had to fall alive into the hands of the Empress.
Into his hands.
More, much more than Harrad-Sar himself.
Because that man could have been extremely helpful, could have known a lot of useful things.
But above all because… it could even have been that it was not that one, the first witchcraft of resurrection accomplished by that man.
That man ... that man did not have to die.
That man was scary. As Hayes. Perhaps more than Hayes. She knew that. She had seen how he had cut off the head of that soldier. In one sweep. With his deadly weapon. And she could still feel the pain of his punch.
But that man did not have to die.
She did not understand, she didn't know why, but she knew – she felt - that he did not have to die.
And without even knowing what she would do, without realizing that, some steps, not a few, behind her, someone else was hurling himself in the same direction, the Orion girl lunged forward.
Towards the horrible Hayes.
Toward that man.
And she was very close. Practically on top them.
That man was scary. As Hayes. Perhaps more than Hayes. She knew that. She had seen how he had cut off the head of that soldier. In one sweep. With his deadly weapon. And she could still feel the pain of his punch.
But that man did not have to die.
She did not understand, she didn't know why, but she knew – she felt - that he did not have to die.
And without even knowing what she would do, without realizing that, some steps, not a few, behind her, someone else was hurling himself in the same direction, the Orion girl lunged forward.
Towards the horrible Hayes.
Toward that man.
And she was very close. Practically on top them.
Mayweather could no longer restrain himself. Not even the cold serpent he was could do it.
The screen showed merciless everything which was happening over there, on the square in front of the Temple, just as it had done until then. He was tempted to order the breaking of the radio silence, but he could not, it was not possible for him to skip so, with both feet, the will of the Empress, which was, on the other hand, his own will. Too dangerous to keep open the radio communications. Damn! Damn! Damn damn! And then, with those tremendous bursts of energy coming from the planet, would they work? And Hayes, blinded as he seemed to be in his brain, would he have heeded the order to stop?
Hayes! Imbecile! An instant yet and he would eliminate that man. Only an instant and then...
Wait! And this?
"Look!" His voice rose suddenly, mingling with the scream yelled by the Empress. "Watch!"
In the midst of the soldiers, inert, almost like dazed, the girl with the green skin of the Orions had jumped forward, towards Hayes, and…
It was a matter of a blink.
The screen showed merciless everything which was happening over there, on the square in front of the Temple, just as it had done until then. He was tempted to order the breaking of the radio silence, but he could not, it was not possible for him to skip so, with both feet, the will of the Empress, which was, on the other hand, his own will. Too dangerous to keep open the radio communications. Damn! Damn! Damn damn! And then, with those tremendous bursts of energy coming from the planet, would they work? And Hayes, blinded as he seemed to be in his brain, would he have heeded the order to stop?
Hayes! Imbecile! An instant yet and he would eliminate that man. Only an instant and then...
Wait! And this?
"Look!" His voice rose suddenly, mingling with the scream yelled by the Empress. "Watch!"
In the midst of the soldiers, inert, almost like dazed, the girl with the green skin of the Orions had jumped forward, towards Hayes, and…
It was a matter of a blink.
An eye blink. Even less. Hayes' finger tightened. The trigger snapped. His weapon fired.
In the air.
In the air.
T'Pol jumped to grab the hand of Phlox. She was awake. Wide awake!
"He's safe! Is ... is ..." Her eyes filled with tears. "But not quite yet!"
She threw herself into the arms of Phlox, who remained stupefied.
She sought consolation! T'Pol wanted consolation!
Uncomfortably, with difficulty, not knowing what and how to do it, how to behave, Phlox, not even realizing that he was doing it, made her lean her head on his chest and then brought his hand to her nape.
And he began to stroke her hair, untidy and tousled.
With clumsy sweetness!
His voice resonated low – strange, unknown - into his ears. "He will manage to save himself, T'Pol."
She lifted her head to look at him with those eyes bright with tears. "He is hurt. Deeply. He bleeds. Death has not loosened its grip on him. And he is suffering. Is in pain. Tremendously. And is alone. Over there."
Phlox wondered where it was that "over there". But he said nothing.
"Phlox!"
The doctor looked wide-eyed at T'Pol, surprised to hear his name uttered by her in that way.
As a cry for help.
She buried again her head on his chest.
Her voice was heard between sobs. "He... He mustn't die, Phlox! I..." - T'Pol clung trembling to Phlox. – "I want him back here. Safe and sound. Here. With me."
What was going on? WHAT WAS GOING ON!?
What was happening to T'Pol? And to him? To him, who found himself whispering into the ear of T'Pol: "He will manage to save himself, T'Pol. And will return here. With you."
T'Pol nodded, clutching at him even more. To seek protection. Reassurance.
And Phlox continued to softly caress her hair. Trying to reassure her.
The universe was getting topsy-turvy.
And the cause - one half of the cause - was there, in his arms.
While the other half of the cause ...
Phlox frowned, his brain in chaos.
He continued to keep with gentleness T'Pol on his chest.
"He's safe! Is ... is ..." Her eyes filled with tears. "But not quite yet!"
She threw herself into the arms of Phlox, who remained stupefied.
She sought consolation! T'Pol wanted consolation!
Uncomfortably, with difficulty, not knowing what and how to do it, how to behave, Phlox, not even realizing that he was doing it, made her lean her head on his chest and then brought his hand to her nape.
And he began to stroke her hair, untidy and tousled.
With clumsy sweetness!
His voice resonated low – strange, unknown - into his ears. "He will manage to save himself, T'Pol."
She lifted her head to look at him with those eyes bright with tears. "He is hurt. Deeply. He bleeds. Death has not loosened its grip on him. And he is suffering. Is in pain. Tremendously. And is alone. Over there."
Phlox wondered where it was that "over there". But he said nothing.
"Phlox!"
The doctor looked wide-eyed at T'Pol, surprised to hear his name uttered by her in that way.
As a cry for help.
She buried again her head on his chest.
Her voice was heard between sobs. "He... He mustn't die, Phlox! I..." - T'Pol clung trembling to Phlox. – "I want him back here. Safe and sound. Here. With me."
What was going on? WHAT WAS GOING ON!?
What was happening to T'Pol? And to him? To him, who found himself whispering into the ear of T'Pol: "He will manage to save himself, T'Pol. And will return here. With you."
T'Pol nodded, clutching at him even more. To seek protection. Reassurance.
And Phlox continued to softly caress her hair. Trying to reassure her.
The universe was getting topsy-turvy.
And the cause - one half of the cause - was there, in his arms.
While the other half of the cause ...
Phlox frowned, his brain in chaos.
He continued to keep with gentleness T'Pol on his chest.
Without understanding, Hayes rolled on the ground.
He shook himself immediately, looking amazed at the young Orion lying upon him.
She .. she had bumped into him! She had launched herself against him causing him to fall! Preventing him from hitting that bastard!
His eyes, incredulous and furious, stared from behind the visor of his helmet into the wide open eyes of the girl.
He saw the flash of terror that gleamed in them. And she was quite right!
He shook himself immediately, looking amazed at the young Orion lying upon him.
She .. she had bumped into him! She had launched herself against him causing him to fall! Preventing him from hitting that bastard!
His eyes, incredulous and furious, stared from behind the visor of his helmet into the wide open eyes of the girl.
He saw the flash of terror that gleamed in them. And she was quite right!
What had she done? What had she done? Was she crazy? Was she crazy?
She .. she had thrown herself on Hayes! Against him! She had made him fall to the ground! She had prevented him from doing what he wanted to do! She had marked her fate!
She .. she had thrown herself on Hayes! Against him! She had made him fall to the ground! She had prevented him from doing what he wanted to do! She had marked her fate!
Harrad-Sar raised himself on his knees, despite the pain and exhaustion.
He stood watching open mouthed.
The girl... the Orion girl…
He had not noticed it, he had been too absorbed in observing his Vulcan girl, but she had launched herself into the same mad undertaking of T'Pau.
And she had succeeded! She had wrong-footed Hayes! She had managed to prevent him from killing the man!
But now…
Harrad-Sar clenched wrathfully his lips and his fists.
Now she...
He stood watching open mouthed.
The girl... the Orion girl…
He had not noticed it, he had been too absorbed in observing his Vulcan girl, but she had launched herself into the same mad undertaking of T'Pau.
And she had succeeded! She had wrong-footed Hayes! She had managed to prevent him from killing the man!
But now…
Harrad-Sar clenched wrathfully his lips and his fists.
Now she...
And now she was going to die!
The pitiless hand of Hayes clutched her throat.
Her feeble hands could not detach his steel fingers.
She couldn't breathe.
Her view started getting blurred.
She would die.
The pitiless hand of Hayes clutched her throat.
Her feeble hands could not detach his steel fingers.
She couldn't breathe.
Her view started getting blurred.
She would die.
Harrad-Sar felt his blood boil.
His body... his damn body! His…
T'Pau! She was onto Hayes!
His body... his damn body! His…
T'Pau! She was onto Hayes!
*No! You won't do it!*
T'Pau pushed her effort to the extreme. Her legs flew.
T'Pau pushed her effort to the extreme. Her legs flew.
The soldiers!
They were recovering! Their weapons sprang up to shoot T'Pau!
His body... his body had to obey him!
They were recovering! Their weapons sprang up to shoot T'Pau!
His body... his body had to obey him!
T'Pau dived forward.
His body obeyed.
He was still Harrad-Sar!
He jumped to his feet, he leapt toward a soldier, the closest, he grabbed his neck and broke it, with one hand only and easily, he grasped the soldier's weapon while he was falling down, he levelled the weapon, he fired.
With careful precision.
With effective and lethal rapidity.
The fire of Harrad-Sar hushed forever the few soldiers still alive.
Surprised, disbelieving and totally unprepared to fight against the fire of a man who should not have done - could not have done - such a thing, they fell down.
One after the other.
In a flash.
Not one of them could have spoken anymore.
He was still Harrad-Sar!
He jumped to his feet, he leapt toward a soldier, the closest, he grabbed his neck and broke it, with one hand only and easily, he grasped the soldier's weapon while he was falling down, he levelled the weapon, he fired.
With careful precision.
With effective and lethal rapidity.
The fire of Harrad-Sar hushed forever the few soldiers still alive.
Surprised, disbelieving and totally unprepared to fight against the fire of a man who should not have done - could not have done - such a thing, they fell down.
One after the other.
In a flash.
Not one of them could have spoken anymore.
T'Pau swooped like a fury onto Hayes.
Mayweather's eyes were staring in disbelief at the screen, as well as those of all the others.
He did not make it anymore. To hell with the 'necessary and official' respect for that slut of an Empress! He had to act! There are times in which the snake has to come out in the open.
And there are times when every caution must be banned!
"Go down! Just above the square! Do not care about whether the vessel can explode! Up close, you can more easily grip them so as to teleport them here! And do not you dare say that you can not do! I... The Empress accepts no imitations!"
The Empress said nothing. She did not turn against him.
She was gazing, petrified, at the screen.
He did not make it anymore. To hell with the 'necessary and official' respect for that slut of an Empress! He had to act! There are times in which the snake has to come out in the open.
And there are times when every caution must be banned!
"Go down! Just above the square! Do not care about whether the vessel can explode! Up close, you can more easily grip them so as to teleport them here! And do not you dare say that you can not do! I... The Empress accepts no imitations!"
The Empress said nothing. She did not turn against him.
She was gazing, petrified, at the screen.
Hayes was pushed away by the impact, and again rolled along the ground without understanding.
But his training didn't betray him.
Once again he shook instantly and stood up in a huff. His weapon aimed, he turned around in a flash, toward the spot of collision, to realize what had happened and to target whoever had hit him.
Next to the Orion girl, who, on the ground, on her back, was trying to breathe again between the fits of coughing, there was the Vulcan female.
She was crouching, with the knees flexed.
She looked a tiger.
And, like a tiger, was watching him. With a look… Vulcan or not, hers was a look of hatred.
That look, somehow, pushed Hayes to think again coldly. It awakened in him the Hayes of always.
The women… someone ... maybe ... yes, just that man… had told him that they would be his downfall.
That man…. whose stunning identification had dragged him to...
Hayes grinned to himself. Sometimes the tension plays strange tricks, can push you to lose your temper, to act rashly, irrationally. But a strong spirit, like his, is always able to recover promptly.
Just an adequate stimulus.
Like that woman. That Vulcan female.
She was more than an adequate stimulus, she promised to be spectacular, the best stimulus to make his mind go back to work with cold and rapid lucidity. Women, his downfall? What a hooey! Women made him stronger and more acute, were pressuring him to be ruthlessly shiny because his brain became more lucid and more merciless than it already was when forcing them to give him what he wanted from them.
Their body and their soul.
And their torment.
His pleasure.
His downfall. Ah! Bullshit! Women were his pleasure, this was what they were, and, the more rebellious and dangerous they were, the greater was the pleasure he was capable of drawing from them. He was very on the ball, in this.
That tiger in the shape of a Vulcan female would have perfectly noticed!
She wouldn't die, not now, wouldn't succeed in escaping her fate, as, presumably, she had hoped it could happen, thinking, on the basis of his previous… a little too vehement behaviour, to be able to make explode an even more violent reaction on his part, to the point of killing her.
But it was not so, she had… underestimated herself. She would live.
For his pleasure.
But that man, no. He would die. Right now. Despite the… baffling and awkward frenzy that the sight of those eyes, the eyes of that man, had sparked in Hayes, his brain had not reasoned bad, hadn't temporarily gone crazy. His brain had simply automatically suggested to him the best thing to do.
That man – 'that' man - had to die, that for sure. If he had brought him back to the Empress alive, there was a risk – more than a mere risk, in truth - that the Empress could make herself ensnared by him. Everyone knew the fascination he exerted… had exerted… over women. Including the Empress. There had been clear evidence of this, before she became the Empress. He could not admit that that man, who somehow had made a fool of him, could stay alive. He had to get back in the shadows that had spewed him off. Even because… well, even because Hayes… didn't like having to do with ghosts.
And even the Orion girl would die. She would pay with death for her cockiness. Stupid girl! What had she thought to do? He would have done without her. The Earth and the universe were full of randy Orion females.
But of Vulcan females, no. As if what that Vulcan girl looked to promise being more than an ability merely possible on her part to give him oodles of pleasure wasn't yet enough, they, the Vulcan women, were a rare commodity and therefore, even more so, that Vulcan female shouldn't die. At least, not now. Later in time.
After he had tasted the ineffable pleasure of transforming that look of hate into a look of entreaty.
His voice rang out mocking. "Futile effort, sweet maiden. It will not help you either to save the Orion girl, nor your failed saviour. And it won't help you to get killed ahead of time, if this was your purpose. You know, I like courageous women. They are more… ardent."
"My ardour will burn you."
"It will be a pleasure being burned by your ardour."
"I will kill you, Hayes. Sooner or later I will."
"Oh oh, what a way for a Vulcan to speak! I do not deserve so much!"
"You deserve death!"
"And you some healthy course of educational and practical training. What do you say? We could think of some intensive courses on the part of my soldiers. They are very savvy in this field. You would arrive to take care of me… well prepared."
But his training didn't betray him.
Once again he shook instantly and stood up in a huff. His weapon aimed, he turned around in a flash, toward the spot of collision, to realize what had happened and to target whoever had hit him.
Next to the Orion girl, who, on the ground, on her back, was trying to breathe again between the fits of coughing, there was the Vulcan female.
She was crouching, with the knees flexed.
She looked a tiger.
And, like a tiger, was watching him. With a look… Vulcan or not, hers was a look of hatred.
That look, somehow, pushed Hayes to think again coldly. It awakened in him the Hayes of always.
The women… someone ... maybe ... yes, just that man… had told him that they would be his downfall.
That man…. whose stunning identification had dragged him to...
Hayes grinned to himself. Sometimes the tension plays strange tricks, can push you to lose your temper, to act rashly, irrationally. But a strong spirit, like his, is always able to recover promptly.
Just an adequate stimulus.
Like that woman. That Vulcan female.
She was more than an adequate stimulus, she promised to be spectacular, the best stimulus to make his mind go back to work with cold and rapid lucidity. Women, his downfall? What a hooey! Women made him stronger and more acute, were pressuring him to be ruthlessly shiny because his brain became more lucid and more merciless than it already was when forcing them to give him what he wanted from them.
Their body and their soul.
And their torment.
His pleasure.
His downfall. Ah! Bullshit! Women were his pleasure, this was what they were, and, the more rebellious and dangerous they were, the greater was the pleasure he was capable of drawing from them. He was very on the ball, in this.
That tiger in the shape of a Vulcan female would have perfectly noticed!
She wouldn't die, not now, wouldn't succeed in escaping her fate, as, presumably, she had hoped it could happen, thinking, on the basis of his previous… a little too vehement behaviour, to be able to make explode an even more violent reaction on his part, to the point of killing her.
But it was not so, she had… underestimated herself. She would live.
For his pleasure.
But that man, no. He would die. Right now. Despite the… baffling and awkward frenzy that the sight of those eyes, the eyes of that man, had sparked in Hayes, his brain had not reasoned bad, hadn't temporarily gone crazy. His brain had simply automatically suggested to him the best thing to do.
That man – 'that' man - had to die, that for sure. If he had brought him back to the Empress alive, there was a risk – more than a mere risk, in truth - that the Empress could make herself ensnared by him. Everyone knew the fascination he exerted… had exerted… over women. Including the Empress. There had been clear evidence of this, before she became the Empress. He could not admit that that man, who somehow had made a fool of him, could stay alive. He had to get back in the shadows that had spewed him off. Even because… well, even because Hayes… didn't like having to do with ghosts.
And even the Orion girl would die. She would pay with death for her cockiness. Stupid girl! What had she thought to do? He would have done without her. The Earth and the universe were full of randy Orion females.
But of Vulcan females, no. As if what that Vulcan girl looked to promise being more than an ability merely possible on her part to give him oodles of pleasure wasn't yet enough, they, the Vulcan women, were a rare commodity and therefore, even more so, that Vulcan female shouldn't die. At least, not now. Later in time.
After he had tasted the ineffable pleasure of transforming that look of hate into a look of entreaty.
His voice rang out mocking. "Futile effort, sweet maiden. It will not help you either to save the Orion girl, nor your failed saviour. And it won't help you to get killed ahead of time, if this was your purpose. You know, I like courageous women. They are more… ardent."
"My ardour will burn you."
"It will be a pleasure being burned by your ardour."
"I will kill you, Hayes. Sooner or later I will."
"Oh oh, what a way for a Vulcan to speak! I do not deserve so much!"
"You deserve death!"
"And you some healthy course of educational and practical training. What do you say? We could think of some intensive courses on the part of my soldiers. They are very savvy in this field. You would arrive to take care of me… well prepared."
His body gave way. More, it could not do.
It had done all it could do.
But it had been useless.
Harrad-Sar watched from a distance T'Pau, who, crouched on the floor with her knees bent, seemed to be speaking with Hayes. In spite of what she had done, apparently Hayes did not seem to want to kill her.
She would live. In torment.
Hayes was not going to do what he, Harrad-Sar, the Great Harrad-Sar, had not had the courage to do when he had taken possession of the weapon with which he had killed the soldiers and that now he no longer had the strength to handle.
He had used all the strength which had remained to him. His life was going away.
Harrad-Sar slid to the floor and closed his eyes.
His blood was flowing plentifully. It would not take much to die.
T'Pau, no. She would live.
A life of pain.
He should have shot her, not the soldiers. But he had not been able. Because...
Because ...
Death makes you think strange things. Uncommon. Unusual.
Because he was fond of her. So strong. Yet so small. So fragile. A child. To protect.
And by reason of the first act of true affection of his whole life, the object of his affection would have lived a life of torment.
A long, very long life of torment and humiliation for dying a far off day in torment and despair.
No. No and no! This did not have to happen! Did not have to happen!
As the darkness was more and more enveloping, Harrad-Sar's mind seemed to be getting arched, as if it was spasmodically trying to remain vivid a little yet, to desperately attempt to launch a silent, impossible, appeal to T'Pau.
She knew. He knew that she knew, that she had realized what he had done.
*T'Pau! Child! Come on! There is still a way! There's still a way! Come on, girl. Make him enraged. Do not give him time to think about it. Show him his failure!*
It had done all it could do.
But it had been useless.
Harrad-Sar watched from a distance T'Pau, who, crouched on the floor with her knees bent, seemed to be speaking with Hayes. In spite of what she had done, apparently Hayes did not seem to want to kill her.
She would live. In torment.
Hayes was not going to do what he, Harrad-Sar, the Great Harrad-Sar, had not had the courage to do when he had taken possession of the weapon with which he had killed the soldiers and that now he no longer had the strength to handle.
He had used all the strength which had remained to him. His life was going away.
Harrad-Sar slid to the floor and closed his eyes.
His blood was flowing plentifully. It would not take much to die.
T'Pau, no. She would live.
A life of pain.
He should have shot her, not the soldiers. But he had not been able. Because...
Because ...
Death makes you think strange things. Uncommon. Unusual.
Because he was fond of her. So strong. Yet so small. So fragile. A child. To protect.
And by reason of the first act of true affection of his whole life, the object of his affection would have lived a life of torment.
A long, very long life of torment and humiliation for dying a far off day in torment and despair.
No. No and no! This did not have to happen! Did not have to happen!
As the darkness was more and more enveloping, Harrad-Sar's mind seemed to be getting arched, as if it was spasmodically trying to remain vivid a little yet, to desperately attempt to launch a silent, impossible, appeal to T'Pau.
She knew. He knew that she knew, that she had realized what he had done.
*T'Pau! Child! Come on! There is still a way! There's still a way! Come on, girl. Make him enraged. Do not give him time to think about it. Show him his failure!*
"Your soldiers, Hayes? What soldiers?"
"My petite, the soldiers who..."
The sneering look that took the place of the look of hatred in the eyes of the woman, choked the words in Hayes' throat.
His soldiers. His soldiers. Why hadn't his soldiers halted the Vulcan?
Suddenly he realized the silence.
The noises of the fires and the collapses.
Sure.
But there were no voices.
Nobody was speaking.
No shout of a man. Of a soldier
His gaze rose. Looked beyond the two women.
His soldiers!
And Harrad-Sar!
"My petite, the soldiers who..."
The sneering look that took the place of the look of hatred in the eyes of the woman, choked the words in Hayes' throat.
His soldiers. His soldiers. Why hadn't his soldiers halted the Vulcan?
Suddenly he realized the silence.
The noises of the fires and the collapses.
Sure.
But there were no voices.
Nobody was speaking.
No shout of a man. Of a soldier
His gaze rose. Looked beyond the two women.
His soldiers!
And Harrad-Sar!
All the soldiers!
All lying on the ground!
Inert.
Dead!
As most likely Harrad-Sar!
And as almost certainly also that man, the one who had had in his hand that strange Lirpa. He no longer had moved; he was lying motionless on the ground. She would know who he was only in his death. Her suspicion would be solved only by watching his cold, dead features.
Hayes! Fault of Hayes!
He would pay the greatest price! And if that man was who she thought he was, Hayes would pay a price even higher!
The Empress hissed in the most total and gloomiest silence. "If in thirty seconds they will not be teleported here, all of them, be they dead or alive, what Hayes will have to undergo…"
The Empress stopped and got up, looking around with icy eyes. "No. What that treacherous whore, T'Pol, had to and will have to - will have to! - undergo, will be nothing compared to what will have to be endured by you."
All lying on the ground!
Inert.
Dead!
As most likely Harrad-Sar!
And as almost certainly also that man, the one who had had in his hand that strange Lirpa. He no longer had moved; he was lying motionless on the ground. She would know who he was only in his death. Her suspicion would be solved only by watching his cold, dead features.
Hayes! Fault of Hayes!
He would pay the greatest price! And if that man was who she thought he was, Hayes would pay a price even higher!
The Empress hissed in the most total and gloomiest silence. "If in thirty seconds they will not be teleported here, all of them, be they dead or alive, what Hayes will have to undergo…"
The Empress stopped and got up, looking around with icy eyes. "No. What that treacherous whore, T'Pol, had to and will have to - will have to! - undergo, will be nothing compared to what will have to be endured by you."
"He does not move, Phlox, does not move! Is inert on the ground. He does not make it! Death is claiming him back!"
T'Pol trembled violently in the arms of Phlox.
And he did not know what to do.
Finally, he cried.
With anger.
"Move it, damn! Wherever you are! Don't you see how you are reducing..." - The words flowed spontaneously from the lips of Phlox – "... your T'Pol?"
T'Pol trembled violently in the arms of Phlox.
And he did not know what to do.
Finally, he cried.
With anger.
"Move it, damn! Wherever you are! Don't you see how you are reducing..." - The words flowed spontaneously from the lips of Phlox – "... your T'Pol?"
T'Pau stood up. "You better kill me, Hayes. Right now."
The baffled eyes of Hayes rested on her.
"I shall tell all, o great warlord. Not even by cutting my tongue to keep me from talking and my hands to prevent me from writing will you be able to stop me. I will be capable of finding who will want to listen to me."
T'Pau's eyes glistened with real perfidy. "It is said that the powerful Empress' paramour wants to be aware of everyone and everything. It is reported that even the prisoners must pass through his sieve."
Hayes's eyes seemed to want to squirt out of the visor. "Damn bitch!" He levelled up his phaser. "I will..."
"I had warned you that women would be your undoing."
The baffled eyes of Hayes rested on her.
"I shall tell all, o great warlord. Not even by cutting my tongue to keep me from talking and my hands to prevent me from writing will you be able to stop me. I will be capable of finding who will want to listen to me."
T'Pau's eyes glistened with real perfidy. "It is said that the powerful Empress' paramour wants to be aware of everyone and everything. It is reported that even the prisoners must pass through his sieve."
Hayes's eyes seemed to want to squirt out of the visor. "Damn bitch!" He levelled up his phaser. "I will..."
"I had warned you that women would be your undoing."
The man!
The Empress, Mayweather, everyone were on their feet to watch the screen.
Only the pilot and technicians were not watching, sweaty in performing their work. They were succeeding in what they were doing. In 20 seconds the ship would have flown over the square and they could take General Hayes and all the others that the Empress wanted.
But at that moment neither she nor her gigolo seemed to pay attention to what the coaching staff and the pilot were doing.
Their attention was completely absorbed by that man.
Who suddenly had risen up and now was there, bleeding, standing upright, in the same place where he had fallen, many steps behind where Hayes stood now, with his feet planted upon the ground soaked in his own blood.
Who kept his right arm raised above his head and outstretched backwards.
Who, with it, brandished his Lirpa.
Like a spear.
The Empress, Mayweather, everyone were on their feet to watch the screen.
Only the pilot and technicians were not watching, sweaty in performing their work. They were succeeding in what they were doing. In 20 seconds the ship would have flown over the square and they could take General Hayes and all the others that the Empress wanted.
But at that moment neither she nor her gigolo seemed to pay attention to what the coaching staff and the pilot were doing.
Their attention was completely absorbed by that man.
Who suddenly had risen up and now was there, bleeding, standing upright, in the same place where he had fallen, many steps behind where Hayes stood now, with his feet planted upon the ground soaked in his own blood.
Who kept his right arm raised above his head and outstretched backwards.
Who, with it, brandished his Lirpa.
Like a spear.
End of Chapter Eleven
Do you realize, ladies and gentlemen, what the love of a woman can do?
Do you realize the strength of women?
And this is nothing.
This is nothing!
You will see, ladies and gentlemen.
You will see it soon.
In the next chapter.
Do you realize the strength of women?
And this is nothing.
This is nothing!
You will see, ladies and gentlemen.
You will see it soon.
In the next chapter.
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COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]
COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]