Table of Contents Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue ABOUT THE AUTHOR ABOUT THE ARTISTS THE OBSIDIAN SEED R. J. LEAHY ZUMAYA OTHERWORLDS 2009 This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. THE OBSIDIAN SEED c 2009 by R. J. Leahy ISBN 978-1-934135-98-3 Cover art c Brian Hamner Cover design c April Martinez All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is prohibited without the written permission of the author or publisher. "Zumaya Otherworlds" and the griffon logo are trademarks of Zumaya Publications LLC, 3209 S. Interstate 35, Austin TX. Visit us online at http://www.zumayaotherworlds.com. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Leahy, R. J., 1960- The obsidian seed / by R.J. Leahy. p. cm. ISBN 978-1-934135-97-6 (alk. paper) I. Title. PS3612.E215O27 2009 813'.6--dc22 2008047631 To my family and friends, whose encouragement makes all this possible. And so it is he comes at last to fulfill the curse of yore and draws the darkness over us... Prologue General Torchono, As per your instructions this communiqu? is coded for your eyes only. We are en route back to Union space. Mizar 3 has been destroyed. The woman was not found. There is documentation detailing her arrival, so it appears the pirate's information was accurate. I can only assume she is dead. Perhaps that is for the best. Sincerely, Colonel * * * *. Scanlon, UDPM Message transmitted to the Union High Command following the raid on Mizar 3 The albino was not happy. "You're certain this is the place" he asked. He studied the view screen as he stroked his mustache, the ends of which continued beyond his chin. He had ordered his ship in a close orbit of the world below, but not so close as to risk detection from the Union battleships orbiting near them. He was not looking for a fight, only information. Before him flickered an image of a black and charred world, dotted with scattered fires so large their smoke plumes could be seen from space. A swarm of battleships had just broken from the atmosphere, heading back toward the orbiting mother ships. The pilot looked up from his console at the tall, pale figure staring over his shoulder. "Yes, I'm sure. I double-checked the coordinates. Hell, I triple-checked them. I'm telling you, Conn, we're here. This is Mizar 3--or, at least, what's left of it." "And you've picked up no report of the woman" The pilot readjusted his earpiece, squinting in concentration. "No, and I'm intercepting all communication between these SAG units and the mother ships. They've identified everyone, even the dead, but they haven't found her." "She was here, so somehow, she must have gotten away during the attack." He frowned. "She must have been on the transport, the one we detected leaving orbit when the barrage began. Damn. I should have been quicker to lock a trace on it." "Well, the Union must have missed her, too," the pilot replied, "because none of their ships have gone after her. They're scouring the planet like madmen. They've already searched every inch of the main prison camp twice and are now starting a third sweep--and all this with a Coalition attack group less than an hour away. The Union must want her pretty bad." "So it seems." "And you, Conn What's your interest in this woman" "Call it curiosity." "Curiosity, my bad eye," the pilot snorted. "If you're interested in her, then she must be valuable. Let me guess--is there a reward What is she, the daughter of some Union general" The large man tossed his head back and laughed, his braided white hair falling around his shoulders. "Can Levant Conn do nothing that is not driven by profit You know, Farin, even a smuggler is allowed a few outside interests." The pilot's expression remained skeptical. "Very well. Yes, it is more than curiosity. I have a personal stake in this woman. She's my sister." "Sister" "In a manner of speaking." The man gazed suspiciously at the albino with his unpatched eye. "All the years I've known you, Conn, I never heard you mention any sister." "No, I suppose I never have. We were separated at birth. I only recently learned of her existence myself, but then such is often the way of family. How is the shroud shield holding up" "The lady's concealing device works beautifully. She really is a genius. The Union has no idea we're here. Oh, there's an instant during each field cycle when we might blip their screens, but it won't let them get a fix on us. At worst, we'll look like a ghost image on their sensors." "Good. Even so, let's not press our luck. Union battle cruisers have been known to shoot at ghosts before, and I have no wish to lie in the wormhole's shadow just yet. Prepare to leave orbit. As you have reminded me, I am a smuggler, and we have deliveries to make." "Yes, sir. And your...sister" Conn gazed back at the view screen, at the smoldering world slowly rotating below them. "There is nothing more I can do for her now. I gave the Union the bait, and they took it. If she was unable to escape during the attack, then she is dead. If not, then she will have to fend for herself until I can pick up her trail again. But I am not overly concerned. She is resourceful, this one. I have no doubt I will yet find her. Give the order. Have the men prepare for hyperdrive." "Aye, Captain." Conn made his way to his cabin as the men made ready to take the ship out of orbit. He entered and sat wearily on the bunk. "She is not here" asked a feminine voice from the shadows. "No. At least, she is not among the survivors." "She is dead, then," the voice said flatly. "Not necessarily. It is possible she escaped in a stolen transport." "Possible, but not likely." "It's possible," the albino repeated. He lay back and closed his eyes. It had been days since he had slept properly. There was the sound of splashing liquid followed by moist plodding across the floor. Levant opened his eyes. A bluish skeletal form stood above him, her skin glistening wetly in the dim light. Her arms were unusually long and hung limp at her side, the slender fingers almost touching the floor. Kurria seldom left her bio-container, finding the ship much too hot and preferring to stay under the misting spray of the ice-cold water. When she did leave, it was a sure sign something was bothering her, but the flat face and large, lidless eyes were unable to convey expression. "Why is it so important that you find her" "Because she is one of us, Kurria, the last of those born from the madness that was Obsidia." Her expression remained blank. "I wish to learn more about her. By way of knowing her, I may better learn who I am," he tried. "You are Levant Conn." He laughed. "How literal you are, Kurria. Yes, I am Levant Conn. Levant Conn the pirate, fatherless-born, the seventh none of a seventh none. And yet who is that, alone and naked in the universe" He sat up, his expression grim. "I did not flee the Star Corps simply to become a pirate. I wish to find some meaning to my life." "Meaning" she asked, and although her face remained unchanged, there was unmistakable bitterness in her voice. "Life has no meaning. You are a romantic, Levant." "Yes, perhaps I am." You have a right to be bitter my poor Kurria. What were they thinking What were they striving for when they made you Could they not create genius without destroying your humanity Or was that their intention all along "I am also exhausted. Now, if you will excuse me..." "But..." Levant frowned. Kurria did not need sleep and did not understand others' need for it. Until her questions were answered, he would get no rest. "But what, Kurria" "If she is alive, what will you do when you find her" "I'm not sure." "Is she aware of what she is" "No, I don't think so." "Will you tell her the truth, then" "The truth" he asked, falling back on the bed with a groan. "And what is the truth Tell me a truth, Kurria, any truth. I long to hear one simple truth." "You know what I mean--the truth of her birth. The truth that she is a horror." Yes, that is a truth, he thought, but what a sad, terrible truth. "I don't know yet what I will tell her. Perhaps she's better off not knowing. Did knowing the truth of your birth help you accept who you are" "I have always known. How could I not" "Well, I have not, and discovering what I am has not offered me any advantages that I can see." Kurria did not answer immediately. "Perhaps the advantage, then, was only to me," she said finally, "for when you discovered the truth about yourself, you went in search of others. Had you not done so, you would not have found me, and I would still be at Corrolis base." "Yes, creating new weapons for the Union, instead of working for me. Who will they find to invent the next MAAD, I wonder But is it so much better here, Kurria, stuck on a ship with only me for company" ...
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