Under the Eye of God by David Gerrold Read Free Book Online Page A

freely and feed at will. That would return the paralyzing dread to the hearts of the cattle. A pleasant thought, that. . . .
    Even in the best of times, the Lady regarded any dealings with the underclasses as a degrading task, and one better left to servants specifically trained for the duty. That she had had no choice but to manage the details of this filthy situation herself left her feeling soiled and uneasy—and the release she craved she couldn’t have. Not yet, but soon. Her tongue flicked through her slightly parted lips, then delicately across the sharp surfaces of her teeth. Soon, she promised herself. Soon.
    She sniffed in annoyance, then realized that she had lost her composure again; the damned disconnection! The realization only increased her annoyance. All her rituals and charms had lost their effectiveness. Zillabar knew what she really needed—nothing less than the full release of her own boiling rage, a wild plunge into madness, a screaming leap to glory, an all-consuming killing frenzy—yes! She planned to dance with death, submerging herself in the splendid ecstasies again, as soon as she returned to her private compound. When she had once again satiated herself, when she once again had the hot blood of the kill surging rich in her veins, only then could she recover the fullness of spirit that shone at the center of her soul.
    Until then . . . well, she would perform her part in this cruel gavotte. She switched off the holomorphic field; the image vanished in a twinkle, leaving only an empty space in the room. Slowly, she brought her thoughts back to the present.
    This business of the security codes ought to disturb her, but it didn’t. It only amused. Obviously, somebody did not want her returning to Thoska-Roole undetected—somebody with power; that narrowed the list of suspects to only a few. She admired the cleverness of the ploy; a truly elegant way to force her to reveal her presence aboard any arriving vessel. Imperial ships wouldn’t need the codes; licensed cruisers would have received them when filing their flight plans; but any private ship attempting passage would find the entrance barred. Yes—a nice maneuver, and one that would not go unrewarded when she identified the perpetrator. Already she had her suspicions. Someone wanted people speculating about her absence, measuring it against events on other worlds, eventually connecting it with the incident on Burihatin, thus bringing the corpse home to the table.
    She’d have her revenge upon the perpetrator of this embarrassment. The game might even provide some pleasant diversion, but more likely not. The whole affair had already taken on a tiresome quality.
    The Lady Zillabar had already survived more than her share of Imperial intrigues. In fact, as the author of more than a few of her own, the Lady considered herself one of the foremost experts at manipulation and conspiracy in the Cluster. She doubted that her anonymous opponent in this particular chess match had the same resources at his disposal as she had at hers. 7
    And if her larger plan succeeded, well then—no one would ever have as much power as she did; not ever again. . . .

Pink Brinewood
    Gito did not like Vampires.
    That, in itself, did not constitute a crime.
    Speaking one’s dislike, however—that bordered on sedition.
    But Gito came from a world where popular resentment lay close to the surface and people spoke their feelings aloud. They felt safe to do so; no Vampires ever came downside, no Vampire could survive the world of Tharn. The crushing gravity, the pounding pressure of the atmosphere, the whole toxic recipe of the acidic ecology, any one of those things would have killed a Vampire quickly. Taken all together, they became an uncrossable barrier.
    The high-gravity dwarves who lived on Tharn had few illusions. Their freedom took its own toll in shortened lives, painful high-pressure ailments, and cracking bone diseases.