She squeezed her eyes tight and fought for control of his etheric energy. As she did, the crystals shook in her hands. Both crystals glowed blue, the glow bleeding into her hands and up her wrists.

  Venna squeezed her eyes even tighter. She strove to control the mystic energy, unique to planet Earth. There had not been anything like this for thousands of years, and never on Earth.

  Abruptly, the shifting pattern of energy produced two eye slits. They opened, revealing swirling chaos instead of pupils.

  Although Venna’s eyes were closed, she saw through those eyes. This was working. She could do this. She could make Lord High Admiral Cook pay after all these years. He would now rue his murderous spree on Thebes. He would pay the ultimate price for his evil.

  With the training she had received from Senior Dax and the Spacer adepts, Venna gained control of the etheric energy. First, she dimmed it and then sent it flying across the countryside, heading unerringly for Star Watch Headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland Sector.

  The journey took four minutes and thirty-one seconds. The ghostly image penetrated the most secure place on planet Earth until it reached Lord High Admiral Cook’s office.

  Old Cook in his white admiral’s uniform spoke to a secretary. Neither of them saw the ghost, even though the energy’s eyes were open, and Venna saw through them. Cook dismissed the secretary. She exited the office, closing the door behind her.

  Venna could barely control her laughter, rage and glee. Deep inside her welled a sense of shame, but she didn’t know why she should feel shame. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe she’d lured the Berber to his death—

  Wait!

  Venna through the energy saw that Cook was rising from his desk. Because of that, panic took over in Venna. As it did, her training took over. Through force of will, she compelled the etheric energy to flitter over and encompass Cook’s head. In a moment, the energy did so.

  Cook’s eyes flew open with astonishment. The old bastard tried to suck air, but it seemed he could not now. As big and old as he was, Cook clawed frantically at the bizarre alien energy encompassing his head like some space helmet. He was choking, trying to inhale. He tried to claw fistfuls of that stuff from him. However, it hardened, preventing his fingers from penetrating the foggy form.

  Admiral Cook heard feminine laughter and then words:

  “Know that I’m repaying you, Lord High Admiral Cook, for killing my family on Thebes.”

  “What? What?” he said.

  Venna heard Cook’s thoughts. It was due to the strange, etheric form that was killing Cook through suffocation.

  “I never did that. You are wrong about this.”

  “You’re a liar!” Venna screamed in the apartment in Lyons. “You’re a liar and a thief of life. I’m killing you. You’re going to die for your evil crimes.”

  Venna held on to the crystals and then forced the etheric projection that remained over the head of Lord High Admiral Cook of Star Watch to its final action. The old man’s eyes bulged in a grotesque fashion. His tongue protruded from his mouth, and he ceased breathing. As he did, the old man of Star Watch toppled onto the floor as his boot heels drummed upon the carpet. Then he became inert.

  Venna still held on to make sure Admiral Cook was dead, dead, dead.

  The door to his office opened. The secretary stepped in, stared in horror and screamed in a shrill and horrific fashion.

  Venna released her hold on the energy. The ghostly form immediately dissipated and then disappeared as if it had never existed. The last thing Venna heard was the screaming secretary.

  Seconds passed and Venna came to herself in the apartment in Lyon. She stared at the two inert crystals in her hands. She stared at the crisp and shriveled body of the Berber who had fed the crystals the power to do this.

  Venna exhaled. She had assassinated the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch.

  After swallowing several times, Venna put on her clothes, her high heels, and the crystals in the box. She slid the lid back over, as she whispered an inhuman litany. Even though a great weariness settled on her, Venna forced herself out the door and down the hall to the turbo lift.

  She had three more people to assassinate. She had started with the most important. Now…

  I could sleep for a week, I’m so tired.

  Venna staggered out of the apartment complex, leaving the scene of a terrible crime. She had to return to her place and prepare for the next kill.

  -7-

  Senior Dax of LSIS watched on a monitor inside the phase ship. The phase ship was deep in an underground cavern, seven miles inside the Earth’s crust.

  As a phase ship in ghost form, it could slide through solid rock, through solid anything, really. But once it returned to solidified form, it could only occupy easily displaced air or vacuum.

  Dax and the Spacer adept in charge of the phase ship, or theoretically in charge, deemed it wise to hide inside the Earth like this so the planetary crust shielded them.

  Dax was sitting at a panel in the phase-ship control chamber. He studied the data from the tracker that Spacer Intelligence had planted in Venna’s purse.

  There were seventeen personnel in the ship, one of them a cyborg trooper. Dax had switched off the trooper for now in the interest of Spacer morale.

  Dax debated teleporting the trooper onto the Earth. He did so out of boredom, because it would be a senseless maneuver. Watching humans react to the trooper might relieve his tedium, but it would hurt the greater plan and was thus a foolish idea.

  Dax manipulated the controls as he concentrated on the present task.

  It had been three days since the death of the Lord High Admiral. Star Watch had kept it out of the general news, but there were hints if one knew where to look. For one thing, Maddox was no longer on vacation.

  Did the captain help search for the murderer?

  According to Dax’s studies on Earth culture, the authorities would soon have a grand funeral for the old man. Perhaps the political people were devising the best method of letting the populace know what had happened. It would likely be a tricky dilemma for them.

  A beep sounded from the panel as Dax connected with the tracker. Through it, he studied Venna.

  She was still sleeping. That was three days straight now. The psychic drain from using the alien crystals— Dax checked a different sensor. Ah. The crystals had drained some of Venna’s life force. Grand Strategist Enigmach had foreseen that, but hadn’t been sure how much life force the crystals would drain. This was twenty-seven percent more drainage than the Grand Strategist had calculated. Venna likely didn’t understand the reason for her exhaustion—if she’d even woken up since originally lying down. If the crystals continued at this rate of drainage, Venna might not be able to make all four kills.

  After a moment, Dax shook his head.

  That wasn’t the point now. She could likely kill again. Thus, he needed to recalibrate the crystals and check the woman to see when she could assassinate next. The sooner the better, as remaining here for long in the phase ship was questionable.

  Dax checked the kill list. The next target would be Brigadier Stokes of Star Watch Intelligence.

  Dax sat back, thinking. The tracker was small and couldn’t make all the needed checks. He should go to her room. Enigmach had warned him about the likely need for recalibrating the crystals after each assault. After this first kill, he needed to check the crystals to see how far they had deteriorated. These were ancient crystals, possibly lacking their former sharpness.

  Dax rose and approached the adept in charge, Mu 11, a Surveyor-class adept with several hidden Builder devices or modifications inside her. She was potentially dangerous, with devices that could attack his main cyber implements, shutting him down, or partly so. She was small with short dark hair, the ubiquitous black-tinted goggles and abnormally stubby fingers. Dax had found her to be a tough-minded Spacer adept.

  “Mu 11,” Dax said.

  She turned around to regard him.

  “It is imperative that I go to Venna’s room in Lyon,” he said.

  Mu 11 frowned. “That is an unwarranted request. You are here as an observer. The phase ship is under my control and Venna is a Spacer agent. If anyone should go to Lyon, it’s me. Besides, you would be spotted almost immediately and thereby ruin everything.”

  “Untrue as to the latter point. Let me demonstrate.” Dax turned aside, took out and put on his senso mask and larynx adjuster. When he turned back and spoke, Mu 11 shook her head.

  “I doubt that will fool anyone who looks closely,” she said, “but you might be able to slip through crowds if you don’t bring attention to yourself. I still do not agree to your leaving the ship.”

  “It’s imperative that I recharge the crystals and check the woman.”

  “Venna is our woman, our agent. As to the crystals—you have point. I will join you in Lyon.”

  “I appreciate your help,” Dax said. “However, our both going strikes me as foolish. You are nearly as distinctive as I am. Together…I ask you to reconsider. Besides, our both going would require too much energy to teleport the extra mass.”

  “Your mass is already too much,” Mu 11 said. “With all the added metal and plastics—I should go alone. Perhaps you can instruct me in recalibrating the crystals.”

  Dax wanted to laugh at this blatant attempt. The Phantasma Synth Crystals were possibly more deadly than the old and faulty phase ship. The vessel wasn’t going to last much longer. The crystals—Enigmach had instructed him on the recalibration. The Grand Strategist told him no one else must learn the secrets to them.

  Holding his features in check, Dax shook his head. “Your selflessness is noted. However, your handling the crystals would be unwise. If done incorrectly, they will suck your life energy and kill you. I am trained to deal with them. This is my task and mine alone. I have received firm orders from home on this.”

  Mu 11 looked away.

  Dax tried to analyze her reaction. Then, he checked to see if she was using one of her Builder devices against him. It did not seem so.

  Mu 11 was surely a highly ranked adept, a Surveyor class with many modifications. He mistrusted her, and knew he had to tread carefully with her. He could all too easily envision an untimely end for himself, with the Spacers declaring that the phase ship and crystals were missing. How could Great Leviathan know the truth? Perhaps it was time to switch on the cyborg trooper. This was a critical mission, particularly for himself. He must be alert to treachery even as he practiced treachery. But he must on all accounts lull Mu 11 and the others.

  “According to my home instructions, I must go alone,” Dax said, “unless you have further objections.”

  Mu 11 took her time answering. At last, she looked at him from behind her black-tinted goggles. “I will teleport you myself,” she said.

  They headed to the teleporting chamber in the middle of the phase ship.

  Soon, Dax appeared on Earth in a back alley behind a twenty-story apartment complex in Lyon, France Sector.

  The cyber adjusted his senso mask and started for the main thoroughfare. He changed his gait after observing several people hurry past. Twice, others looked sharply at him. He noted the worry in their glances. Each time, Dax aimed a numb-gun at them and pressed the thumb trigger. The numb-gun emitted an invisible ray that dulled their curiosity.

  After two blocks, Dax entered the apartment complex, rode a turbo lift to the fourteenth floor, walked down a corridor and stood before a locked door. He made a pass with his left hand, a device in his middle finger buzzing. He opened the door and entered Venna’s apartment, closing the door behind him.

  She slept as one drugged in her bed.

  Dax eyed a smooth and lovely leg carelessly thrust from under the covers. Then he concentrated on the wooden box on a nightstand.

  He took the box and walked into the kitchen, setting it on a counter. The crystals might sense her vulnerability if they were too near.

  Gingerly, Dax slid off the top, staring at the two crystals. They were inert—

  One flared with a blue color.

  Dax nearly bolted. Instead, he whipped out the calibrator, which looked like a bulky tuning fork.

  As the one crystal continued to brighten, Dax thrust the prongs of the device around the Phantasma Synth Crystal. He made subtle adjustments as instructed by Enigmach.

  The blue glow weakened and then disappeared.

  Dax breathed a sigh of relief. He likely would have failed with this if one of his synthetic organs hadn’t injected him with a calming agent and a stimulant.

  Even so, his heart was beating too fast.

  Dax breathed deeply and finally manually gave himself a sedative. Soon, his heart beat normally.

  With great care, even as his hands shook, Dax recalibrated both crystals. Soon, they were primed for action.

  He slid the cover over the wooden box and returned the crystals to the nightstand.

  With his servos whining, Dax squatted beside Venna. He took out a hand monitor and checked various brain waves and bodily functions. She wasn’t as vibrant as before. He put away the monitor and brought out a small hypogun. He inserted an ampule, moved aside the blanket and pressed the nozzle against her left buttock. The hypogun hissed, injecting her.

  Venna twitched and moaned.

  Dax pulled the blanket over her form and straightened. That should give her the needed strength and vitality to assassinate Brigadier Stokes.

  Given the deterioration from the first kill…would she last long enough to snuff out the Iron Lady next?

  He would have to wait and see.

  Dax took a last look around, backed out and then exited and relocked the apartment. Soon, he returned to the original back alley and pressed his retrieve button.

  Ten seconds passed and nothing happened. Should he press the switch again? Was Mu 11 stranding him on Earth as retaliation for his overriding her?

  Then, Dax began to dissipate as he teleported back to the phase ship. Good. Everything was in order. The next assassination should occur in three days.

  Events were moving in the required order.

  -8-

  The next day, Captain Maddox was at home at his ranch near Carson City making breakfast when he received a call from Brigadier Stokes. Then, Maddox heard about the Lord High Admiral’s assassination. This was awful and mind numbing. Cook was dead? Stokes assured him that it was so.

  Afterward, Maddox took the stairs three at a time, waking Meta and telling her the awful news.

  Maddox was a tall, lean, steely muscled individual. Meta was stronger than most men, having been born and raised on a 2G planet. She was also beautifully voluptuous, with long blond hair and stunning features.

  In the middle of telling Meta what happened, Galyan appeared in the bedroom.

  “Sir—” Galyan said.

  Meta whirled around and shouted in alarm, with a knife appearing in her right hand. She had been taking special combat training lately as she had joined Victory last mission. She wanted to be included in the next mission, and do more. Thus, she was engaged in extra training.

  “Galyan,” Maddox said, outraged, “this is a terrible breach of orders. You shouldn’t be in here. This is our bedroom.”

  The knife disappeared from Meta’s hand. She attempted to appear nonchalant, as if Galyan hadn’t startled her by appearing.

  Maddox had stood up quickly at Galyan’s appearance, but hadn’t shouted in alarm. He was used to the holoimage’s abrupt appearance. Never had Galyan appeared in their bedroom, though, and Maddox was fuming.

  “I am sorry, sir,” Galyan said. “I know this is against orders. But there is a bigger situation at hand.”

  After a second, Maddox nodded tersely. “Does this have anything to do with the Lord High Admiral?”

  “You know it does, sir.”

  “I take it you’ve been monitoring my communications.”

  “I have,” Galyan said.

  Maddox ran a hand over his face. “You know that’s also against orders. Never mind. You’re doing what I’ve been unable to teach Valerie—the moment one should throw orders overboard. This is a catastrophe.”

  “Disobeying orders is your stock in trade, is it not, sir?” Galyan said.

  “Never mind that,” Maddox said. “You’re here because the Lord High Admiral is dead. Do you have any idea who assassinated him?”

  “Indeed, I do, sir,” Galyan said, “as I have put several sets of facts together. What I observed in orbit several days ago may have a connection to the Lord High Admiral’s death. I cannot be one hundred percent sure, but I think given all that we have—”

  “Galyan,” Maddox said, cutting through the AI’s chatter, “you are being verbose. Now is the time to get to the point. But just a minute; Galyan, come with me.”

  Maddox walked out of the bedroom into the hall.

  Galyan followed.

  Maddox turned on him. “Do you understand why I have the rule about your not appearing in my bedroom? Do you realize Meta is wearing almost nothing?”

  “I understand, sir. You enjoy being intimate with your wife and do not want anyone catching you in the act. I have noted that you engage in such activities more than most men.”

  “Galyan,” Maddox said, “that’s enough of that. This is unwarranted. This is awful. Cook is dead. I can hardly conceive of that. But on top of everything else, I don’t want you measuring my proclivities with my wife.”

  “Should I erase that data from my memories, sir?”

  Maddox gave him a shrewd glance. “Would you do it if I ordered it?”

  “What if I said yes?” Galyan said.

  “Then I’d think that you’re practicing the art of lying.”

  “Yes, sir, I would be lying. There is a reason for that. It would be a crime for me to erase something like that. I have a personality profile on you, and your sexual habits are germane to it. You know I am trying to understand humanity, but most importantly, my humans.”

  “All right, all right,” Maddox said. “This is an annoying conversation.” He turned and stared off into space, feeling cold and maybe just a little lost. “I can’t believe the Lord High Admiral is gone,” he said softly. “It’s unhinging.”