Prophecy of Tears: CH5: The Vatsatz

The Vatsatz - part 3

"Tomorrow" turned into three days. The younger of the two Blood Eagle, the defiant one, needed time to heal while the quartermaster's people found suitable armor for the "butchers." Meanwhile, I chafed at the delay. The invasion was coming any day, though I didn't know exactly when. I wanted to get close to Ursula DiVaragas. Without a doubt she'd be a target of the Horde Maul grigatim, and if I could mark her or capture her myself, I'd prove beyond any doubt my worth to the Bloodsoul and the Inquisitors.

The Lieutenant came down hard on us for breaking camp discipline and attracting the attention of the local ZoneVox witnesses. We immediately received orders not to talk to any media about the incident. Fortunately, he rode me less harshly in the belief that I'd simply followed the example of the other guards. Unlike my fellows, I retained a fair degree of freedom of movement. To pass the time, I played at drinking with my "fellow Starwolf" and dreamed of what I might accomplish if the tribals allowed me to meet their greatest general.

I was well-equipped for espionage or sabotage. Beyond the pheromone implants, my body contained several Horde biotech devices such as deployable microbeacons, scent glands for marking prey or leaving subtle trails, and skinpouches for carrying datashards or even small explosive charges. Under my tongue were chambered three bone slivers I could spit up to three meters with excellent accuracy. Each dart carried a paralytic venom especially designed to work on the human neural system. I could regulate the amount of venom on each dart to produce a range of impairment on my victim, from slowed reflexes to near-instant death. Once I used a dart, I simply grew a new one, but that was a slow process, so I only used the darts in dire circumstances.

Three months ago on Gamma Diehl, a Skaduvarg agent came uncomfortably close to exposing me. When I terminated this annoyance, I put enough venom into him to kill three healthy humans. Completely unnecessary overkill, but it'd been the first time I used the darts in the field, and I wanted to see what they could do. The curdled expression on his face when he died still amused me.

I sorted through the alternatives and made a decision. I'd simply mark DiVaragas to make the hunt easier for the reavers. If the invasion occurred while I was in the Ur-Warlord's presence, I might risk using a dart to slow or freeze her, though such a ploy was extremely hazardous for me. She'd be well guarded, and from all accounts, she was far more capable than the average monkey. I knew the Hordes wanted to capture prime human specimens such as DiVaragas and the Blood Eagle leader Fury. The Children of Phoenix leader Renn Gistos would be considered a weak strain after surrendering the Firetruce to the Diamond Sword. I wondered what his tribe saw in him, to keep him in office.

I still had time to kill, if not humans. It occurred to me that I knew very little about the newblood girl who'd intervened at the camp the other night, so I determined to look her up. Naturally, I would expose her to my pheromones. Without prolonged contact, I'd accomplish little in the way of actual control, but reactions varied from human to human; she might be nicely suggestible. If it came to a firefight around DiVaragas, hesitation on her part regarding whether to pull the trigger on me could prove crucial. In any case, the pheromones would make her somewhat malleable, a condition I'd certainly exploit.

The Lieutenant approved of my "brotherly" interest in the girl. "Brianna Kenzie," he said. "An orphan from the fringe. Newblood, but well-trained. Word is she killed four armored Grievers in a running battle back on her homeworld. Plus she put on quite the display in the Hunter exercises recently." He shook his head. "Soft-hearted, though. Apparently knows nothing about Blood Eagle atrocities."

"I teach her, sir," I offered with feeling. Oh, yes indeed.

He produced a thin smile. "I know you will, Bax. If anyone's suffered at the hands of the butchers, it's you."

I nodded, as was expected, adding, "Prison butchers die up there, Lootenant?"

"Yes, very likely. The Ur-Warlord is lethal. She's played this game with several other pairs of Blood Eagle and come out with hardly a scratch to show for it. I think she'll make short work of these two."

I left his office in fine spirits. I'd get a shot at Ursula DiVaragas, watch a couple of humans die, and maybe get to destroy a monkey girl as a bonus. Though I hated this weak human body I was forced to use, I enjoyed my work. Deception, murder, sabotage, and betrayal. I was bred for all of it.

It didn't take long for me to find Kenzie. Her commanding officer had assigned her to physical training as punishment for her unplanned excursion the other night. She was in the gym cracking out sit-ups and running through brutal calisthenics while the rest of her cadre was outside on field exercises.

I watched her for a few minutes while she stood at attention and lifted a spinfusor over her head repeatedly. Average height, slender but with the hard muscle definition that typified tribal physiques. Straight brown hair so dark it was almost black. Pretty, but not exceptionally so. She did her exercises dutifully. Her skinsuit permitted no sign of perspiration, but her face was flushed and her skin shone with sweat.

An orphan, the Lieutenant had said. That kind of history suggested all manner of emotional turmoil. Once I tapped into those feelings, she'd be putty.

I strolled out onto the floor, hands in my jacket pockets. "You Kenzie?" I asked in my best idiot voice.

She paused, mumbled something into her commlink, and came to attention with the butt of her spinfusor on the floor. I knew her CO would have a camera placed nearby so he could check on her progress. I'd treat this conversation as public despite the apparent emptiness of the gym.

"Can I help you, sir?" she replied. I noted she was breathing hard. Good. She'd take in my pheromones that much faster.

I trotted out with my best idiot grin plastered across my face. "Not sir! My name Bando Bax. I help you take butchers up to Ur-Warlord."

She looked momentarily confused but recovered nicely. "Umm… I'm not in charge of that, mister Bax. I'm just along to help." Her posture loosened up, and she smiled tentatively. "My CO says I should take a break."

"Bax never in charge," I said cheerily. "That's 'cause my head broke." I followed her to where she'd left her towel folded on a bench, staying close enough to keep her in range of my pheromones, which I was now pumping out with a vengeance.

"Oh." She mopped her face with the towel and sat down. "What happened?"

Time for a mood switch. "Butchers tortured Bax. Broke head with brainzap." I looked her in the eye and added gently, "I not blame you."

She reddened again, this time from embarrassment. Good. The guilt was a doorway for me to manipulate. I kept putting out the pheromones, letting them reinforce the sympathetic reaction. "I'm… I'm not a 'butcher lover,' mister Bax."

"Bando," I said, taking a seat next to her. "My name Bando."

Her expression turned grim, a startling change in such a young face. I could still see the sympathy in her eyes. The pity. By the Bloodsoul, I hated that reaction, even though creating it was central to maintaining my cover.

"Why you help butchers?" I inquired.

"What?" Her pupils had dilated, indicating my little biochemical charisma enhancers were doing their work.

"Why help butchers?"

"I… I guess… What was happening the other night just… just wasn't right. We're supposed to be better than the B-E."

"We definitely better." I raised a finger. "But sometimes, we get angry, heya?"

"I know." She actually hung her head. I reached out and tipped her head back up to face me.

"They say you like one of butchers. A boy."

She shook her head. "No… Well, kind of, but just in passing. He seemed nice, not what I expected."

Time to test out how susceptible she'd become. By now her instincts should be screaming for her to trust me.

"He work for Fury," I said. Fury had a bogeyman reputation among the Starwolf. Using her name would help me tie off any sympathy this girl might have for the B-E.

She nodded, more reluctantly than I'd expected. A deep-seated sense of loyalty might be the culprit behind her resistance. In her mind, she'd decided this one Blood Eagle was "decent" and deserving of trust. I'd have to move to a less-abstract means of transferring that loyalty to me.

"This boy not a nice person. Bando know. Butchers torture Bando." I turned my head and flipped my hair up to show her the scar ridges that lined my scalp, scars that had been carefully crafted to suggest an ugly, painful genesis.

Her gaze flinched away for an instant, then crept back. "By the Wolf," she breathed. "The butchers did that to you?"

I adopted a sad expression, let my voice become husky with feigned emotion. "Butchers do this." I waited a heartbeat before delivering the clincher line. "Boys just like the one you help torture Bando." My hand dropped as if my scalp had seared it. Masterpiece. The way I'd put it in my idiot patois clearly passed along the subliminal message "you help torture Bando" while directing the blame at the object of her trust.

Confusion warred with outrage in her face, and I watched as the latter won. "Those butchers," she fairly hissed, her eyes sparkling with tears. "I'm sorry, Bando! I forgot what the Blood Eagle were." The tears ran freely now, prodded by the welter of emotion my pheromones had released. Her shoulders shook. I'd tapped into a deep vein of emotion, evidently. So much the better.

I smiled and put my hand over hers. "It all right," I told her. "Bando take care of you."

I took a mental bow. In a few short minutes, I'd turned her into a stew of guilt and rage easily manipulated by a clever handler.

Like I said, I loved my work.

Previous Renn

The Vatsatz

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