Slave Empire III - The Shrike by T C Southwell Read Free Book Online

him. Even if he did not care
for her the way she did for him, and never would, she owed him her
life. Her sacrifice would allow him to continue to save slaves, and
nothing was more important than that. What kind of life would she
have without him, anyway? The same one that had not been worth
living before he had married her. Her hope that their marriage
would become more than a friendly arrangement was shattered. It
would only take a few minutes for the telepath to find Tarke’s
image.
    “I won’t
co-operate,” she repeated.
    “You don’t have
to,” the telepath said in a cold voice, exuding scorn and
impatience. “You have no shields. I’ll have what I want in a
moment. Now, lie down, and let’s begin.”
    She folded her
arms. “No. And if you touch me, I’ll show every bruise to the
Council of Elders.”
    “The Council
approved this procedure.”
    “My dear,” the
elderly doctor said, “it’s useless to protest; this argument has
already been through the Council, and all its objections were
outweighed by the prospect of putting an end to the Shrike’s
empire. I’m afraid you have no choice.”
    The younger
doctor, who had sandy monotone hair and a bluff, ordinary face,
came closer, and she slapped his hands away when he tried to take
her arm.
    “You’re going
to regret this,” she told the telepath. “My mind is not a place you
want to go, after what the Envoy did to it.”
    He frowned.
“What do you mean?”
    “He thrived on
the pain of others. Even I can barely live with what he did to me.
You won’t survive it. That, I promise.”
    “I’m sure I’ll
manage,” he assured her, oozing confidence again. “I have a far
stronger mind than you ever possessed.”
    “Oh yeah? Then
why weren’t you the one to do battle with that monster, huh?” She
shook off the young doctor’s hands, but he persisted, and the older
man joined in. “You know nothing, any of you. You’re making a big
mistake, and you will pay!”
    Between them,
they made her lie back with firm but gentle hands that patted and
soothed. Allowing them to think they could subdue her so easily
bought her a little time, but when the telepath tried to touch her,
she rolled off the bunk and slipped out of reach.
     
     
    Tarke glared at
the smug image on the space line screen, longing to reach into the
crystal wafer and twist the Atlantean high commander’s head off.
Triumph filled Tallyn’s black eyes, and Tarke was glad the mask hid
his fury. With his high caste black and white hair, golden skin and
stiff, gold-trimmed indigo uniform, Tallyn represented Atlan’s
finest. He was now supreme commander of the fleet, a rank he had
earned for finding the Golden Child. Tarke had been informed of
Rayne’s abduction only a few minutes ago, and his first impulse had
been to call his old enemy.
    “Shrike, you’re
looking well,” Tallyn quipped. “You have a healthy glitter. Been
polishing yourself lately?”
    Tarke ignored
the jibe. “You’ve overstepped this time, Tallyn. I’ll give you one
chance to consider your stupidity and return my wife to me, then I
start blowing up planets. Do I make myself clear?”
    Tallyn smiled.
“Well, now. From my information, all your ships are at least four
hours from any Atlantean planets. Your wife will be returned to you
before that time is up. Fair enough?”
    “No. I have two
cruisers in orbit around Darmon, an ally of yours, I believe. I’ll
start with that if she’s not returned to her ship within the next
few minutes.”
    Tallyn shook
his head. “The Yasmarians will be most upset if you attack them,
and I have seven ships en-route to help defend them. All you’ll do
is kill a lot of innocent Yasmarians, and lose your ships.”
    “They know
you’ve caused this conflict by kidnapping my wife.”
    “But they’re
not going to help you get her back. In fact, I heard that you
snatched her from Arraman and mind-wiped her to be your particular
toy. So, we’ve rescued her, and, considering