The Emperor's Edge 3: Deadly Games

The Emperor's Edge 3: Chapter 12 Part 2

Basilard waited for Sicarius to come around. Already his own toes felt numb from the straps around his legs and ankles. He was conscious of the steel of the knife behind him, its metal warm now from his body heat. It reminded him not to squirm, lest he drop it.

His gaze drifted toward the nearest of the strange tanks where a fleshy blob floated. Something nagged at the back of his mind, a feeling that he should have put the puzzle pieces together and figured things out by now. The women’s words floated through his mind. He’s already what our clients wish us to create....This is a long-term project.

Babies? He stared at the blob. Were they creating babies? Was that possible? Would that make the captured men and women the parents? Not parents. Brood-stock. Like hounds being used to whelp offspring with desirable traits.

One of Sicarius’s fingers twitched. Basilard watched his face, waiting for a sign that the drugs were losing their hold. It came, not in an expressive show of recognition, but in a hardening of his features—a resumption of the stony mask he always wore. It replaced the blank stare, though his eyes were not as sharp as usual.

Basilard signed, You recognize me?

Sicarius nodded once. His eyes shifted from side to side, taking in the woman and the looming guards.

I got captured, too, Basilard signed.

Though Sicarius’s wrists were strapped to the table like the rest of his body, he could manage some of the one-handed signs. The one he chose was, Obviously.

Basilard clenched his teeth, sensing condemnation in that brief gesture. Sicarius must assume Basilard had done something foolish to get here. He didn’t even consider that Basilard might have been planted as part of a rescue plan from the team.

Basilard forced his jaw to loosen. He could not read Sicarius’s thoughts, and, even if his guess were close, Sicarius would be right, wouldn’t he? Basilard had been foolish and had gotten himself captured.

I was competing at the Imperial Games when they got me. How did they capture you?

Heartbeats thumped past with Sicarius doing nothing but gazing impassively. Maybe he had done something foolish, too, and was loathe to admit it. The thought pleased Basilard. Sicarius was too cursed perfect. Nobody should be so perfect that he never made mistakes. It wasn’t human. Of course, Sicarius might not be responding because he could not explain with one-handed signs what had happened and did not want to speak of it with their captors listening.

Amaranthe is looking for us, Basilard signed. She’s concerned about you. He did not know why he added the latter. Even as an incapacitated prisoner, Sicarius did not look like someone who needed bolstering, and he probably did not care if anyone ever worried on his behalf or not.

“I presume we have a limited time to talk,” Sicarius whispered in flawless Mangdorian. “Stick to relevant topics.”

Basilard winced, both because his offering of compassion was being shoved aside, and because he was all too aware of the reason why Sicarius had learned his tongue.

“I’ve learned little,” Sicarius added, “only that we are in the lake, possibly deep enough that we’d drown before reaching the surface if we simply went out a hatch. I believe there are forty people in the facility, half scientists and half guards. Have you obtained any information?”

Litya glanced at the nearest guard.

The man thumped Sicarius on the temple with the butt of his pistol. “Speak in Turgonian.”