The Genetic Buccaneer by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb [Tubb, E. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science fiction
ISBN: 9780575107847
Publisher: DAW Books
Published: 2011-09-29T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

EIGHT

He woke up in a room that smelled of roses. The ceiling was low, the stone floor softened by a rug graced with abstract designs. One wall was all of iron bars, the box of a lock holding fast a narrow door. The cold blue light stemmed from a single Kell.

Kennedy lay looking at it, not moving, not even turning his eyes after the first quick glance. He felt a little light-headed as if from an extended lack of food, but otherwise completely fit. The slight giddiness would pass, he knew, and there was no point in action without purpose. For now it was sufficient to rest, to waken the full resources of body and mind, to prepare himself for what was to come.

The vapor had thrown him into a form of metabolic stasis, he guessed. Unconscious he had been carried from the palace to a ship and from Weingold to—where?

The Kell gave part of the answer. It was a translucent bulb containing a pinch of radioactive isotope; the radiation caused the compound covering the interior of the bulb to shine with a steady fluorescence. Such bulbs were used as emergency lighting on all ships. Mines had them, underground caverns, disused passages, the hovels of the poor. Needing no attention, they would last for years.

He was somewhere underground then, not on a ship—he could sense that with an instinctive conviction—but in a chamber gouged from the living stone of Kaifeng’s base.

He closed his eyes as sounds came from beyond the locked grille, the shuffle of footsteps, a voice, a murmured answer.

“Is this the last of the specimens?”

“My lady, I do not know. I only obey the will of the master.”

“As do we all.” The voice was tired, bitter. “Well, let me see him.”

Kennedy heard the click of a lock, the slight grate of hinges as the narrow door opened. Fingers rested on his forehead, moved to the pulse in his throat, dropped lower to grip the upper edge of the single cover. A jerk and it fell from his naked body.

“Good musculature, excellent skin tone, very little fat.” The voice was dispassionate, that of a person commenting on a prime animal. “Fine bone structure and superb proportions. Physically, at least, he is the best yet.”

“You will waken him?”

“Of course. Later.”

“Will you need aid, my lady?”

“No. Leave me. Wait outside.” As footsteps moved away her fingers rested lightly on Kennedy’s eyes. Quietly she said, “You are awake. Open your eyes.”

She had changed. Her hair was streaked with gray, her eyes meshed with lines at the corners, slightly pouched beneath. The skin of her cheeks and throat was creped, the line of the jaw softened, the lips thinned. Here was a woman older than the one whose likeness he had memorized, but certain things were unmistakable, such as the bone structure.

He spoke softly. “Laura Previn?”

Her eyes widened, one hand lifting to her throat. “You know me?”

“I know of you. What has happened to you?”

“This?” She touched her hair, her eyes. “Magic,” she said bitterly.

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