Читать книгу The Band - PJ Shay - Страница 7

“Is everything ready?” Lukanol demanded as he strode down the Senate Building’s Main Hall, Delegates Dafili, Vahiki, and Kathim at his heels. His tail twitched erratically behind him, and his eyes were blazing with concentration. “Talk.”

Vahiki nodded, trying his best to keep pace. “Just as you wished it. Everyone is present and accounted for, and we have operatives in place in case things don’t go quite as planned.”

Lukanol nodded. “Perfect.”

The four lions were on their way to one of the Senate’s spacious conference rooms, where the meeting between all the leading racial delegates of Filius was set to take place. All throughout the building, tension seemed to hang like a cloud. Word of the meeting had spread like wildfire, and as the four lions made their way through the halls, everyone seemed to part around them. All eyes glanced furtively at the passing felines, in particular the tall, imposing figure of Lukanol himself.

For his part, Galika seemed totally oblivious to his surroundings, lost as he was in his thoughts. ‘After so many years of planning and fine-tuning… All the painful waiting is about to pay off. The pieces are coming together just like I planned. All they need is one final push…’ He stepped into the lift tube and pressed the button for the appropriate floor. As the platform shot upwards, he smiled and patted the file held tightly in his arms. ‘And I’ve got that right here. When the others see this, it’ll spark the war that will decide this world’s fate.’

He checked the handgun tucked in his breast pocket, ensuring it was within easy reach. ‘Just in case things get too violent,’ he assured himself. ‘It always pays to be extra careful, especially where war is concerned.’

The elevator bell dinged and the doors swished open, and the waiting delegates outside parted to allow them through. Galika nodded curtly as they passed by, striding down the hallway towards the conference room. He finally seemed to notice the way everyone else was watching him, the mixture of apprehension and optimism that was in their eyes. They knew, all of them, that he held the fate of the entire planet in his hands. A thrill of pride rose up in him, pride at all that he had achieved and how far his plans had come. ‘And it’s just beginning.’

They reached the elaborate double doors and stood for a few moments, composing themselves for the task ahead. For a brief moment, Galika felt a twinge of concern. Once he stepped inside, there would be no going back. If Dario failed to cave, or the other delegates didn’t take the bait, everything would fall apart and years of plotting would be wasted. But he had come too far to stop now, and with that thought in his mind, he set his hands to the doors and pushed.

All eyes within the room instantly turned towards him, and the conversations that had filled the air ground to a halt. As always, Galika’s confident bearing and imposing figure dominated the assembly, commanding their attention and respect. He noticed with satisfaction the nervousness that took hold of several delegates, and was pleased to see the defiance written across the striped face of Lucama Dario. So far, everyone was reacting exactly as he had anticipated.

He glanced around the room, taking careful count of the other occupants. As well as Dario, he could see Cheetah Ezrachi Saticol and his aids, their black spots and tear-streaks standing in stark contrast to their golden fur and white suits. Leopard Jugo Makilla stood side-by-side with the Puma Omali Tuthur, and Margay Representative Geraldo Mastara seated opposite. There were others as well, all leading delegates of various races, all of whom had received his invitations. To his satisfaction, no-one appeared absent. Better to know where everyone stood; an unseen variable was the most dangerous of all.

“I’m glad you could all come,” he began, his voice echoing around the chamber. “Please be seated. Drinks should be here shortly.” He pulled up a chair at the head of the table and took his seat, pausing so the others could do the same. He had to suppress a smile when he saw the nervous glances they cast towards him, as well as to the security officers stationed around the room. Though such an escort was mandatory at such gatherings, their presence here was more worrisome than comforting.

No-one spoke for several moments, and the silence hung in the air until it was almost tangible. At last, Lucama Dario broke the ice, standing and glaring across the table. “What are you up to, Galika?” he asked, his eyes sharp and probing.

‘True to form,’ Galika thought smugly. ‘Arrogant and pompous, just as I’d hoped.’ Still, he feigned innocence. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t play dumb,” the tiger shot back, gesturing around him at the other delegates. “This whole set-up reeks of conspiracy. Summoning us here for a quote-unquote ‘diplomatic meeting’ to discuss a ‘peaceful resolution of conflict’.” He scoffed. “Peaceful, my foot. There isn’t a peaceful bone in your body, nor will there ever be. We know you better than that, or at least I do.” He leaned over the table. “Either this is a trick, or you’re not Galika Lukanol at all.”

‘The gullible fool.’ Lukanol wanted to grin with triumph. Everything was going according to plan, and Lucama was playing right into his hands without even knowing it. But he managed to maintain the façade, standing slowly with a look of resignation on his face. “Very well, Dario. I didn’t expect you to believe it anyway. But it is me, and this is no trick. I’m only interested in the common good here, and I would like to say we all are.”

He looked at all of them in turn, seemingly imploring them to agree, but in truth gauging their reactions. “For a hundred years we have lived in peace, and we have certainly prospered from it. But now we stand on the brink of conflict once again. Our people are looking to us to resolve these issues here and now. They fear a new war, and who can blame them? War is a travesty. And while I am no pacifist, as my colleague Dario so tactfully pointed out, neither do I wish to see my home fall. I only want the best for our people.”

The others stared at him incredulously, hardly daring to believe that such words could come from his mouth. He saw hope blossoming on the faces of many of them, and a few of the more bold delegates nodded and murmured in agreement.

Dario, however, was not convinced. “Words, Lukanol. Empty words that have already been spouted dozens of times for weeks. You cry for peace and the good of the people, but do you really care? And besides, this world is already a utopia. You said as much yourself.”

Lukanol fixed the tiger in his fierce stare. “It was before you took advantage of the rest of us.” He looked around him at the gathering. “Still, that doesn’t mean we all have to stoop to bickering like children. Can’t we all just make an attempt at diplomacy and peace? Why must we fight over the mines, when we could share the wealth?”

Lucama just shook his head and laughed. “Really, Lukanol. If this is the best case you can make, I think you have exhausted your arguments.” He smiled haughtily. “And in any case, there is no point in negotiating. The mines are ours now, and ours they shall stay. I have no intention of dividing them up. If you have nothing else to bring forth, there’s no further point to this meeting.”

‘Got him,’ Lukanol shouted in his head. Dario had taken the bait; now to spring the trap. “Truthfully I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he lied. With a flourish, he slid the portfolio he had carried in across the table to Dario. The tiger picked it up warily and opened it, scanning the pages with suspicion. But as he read, his expression changed to one of shock, and his eyes grew wide as he gaped like a beached fish.

“That is the bill I am putting forward,” Lukanol said calmly. “I am calling for the Tigers to completely release their hold on the mines in the territories of the other races, with immediate effect. This is your last chance, Dario. Surrender those territories within the next forty-eight hours. If not…”

He shook his head as though a great burden weighed him down. The other delegates waited anxiously for him to speak again. The entire room went still. No-one moved, no-one spoke, and the sounds of their breaths seemed impossibly loud.

At last, Lukanol lifted his head and looked at the tiger. His eyes seemed to blaze like fire, and Dario froze under the force of his gaze. “If not, and if all other efforts have failed, then we shall declare your defiance an act of war, and shall respond accordingly.”

A gasp reverberated through the room, but Galika remained unflinching. He stared at Dario, waiting for the tiger’s response. Once again he feared that the other feline would break form and acquiesce. ‘Come on, you fool!’ he screamed in his mind. ‘Don’t let that greed of yours fail you now!’

Dario finally seemed to gather his thoughts, though he was quite obviously intimidated. “You… can’t do this.” He shook his head and seemed to grow more confident. “You have no right to declare open war, Lukanol! It won’t stand!”

“Oh, but I have every right. You have invaded the territories of other races, seized control of resources outside of your jurisdiction, and now refuse to see reason. And who knows what is next? If you were bold enough to take control of mines in the territories of others, what is to stop you from expanding your reach?”

Pulling out a small remote, he pressed a series of buttons, activating a holo-projector. A string of text appeared in midair, rotating slowly. With a few more clicks, Galika had highlighted and enlarged a region of text.

“This message was sent just a few days before your seizure of the mines. The sender ID belongs to Dawila Kothapi, grandson of the Tiger’s leading general during the war with Cunia. The swiftness with which you took control of those deposits seemed suspicious, so I decided to search for any record of preparations necessary for such an invasion.”

He began to read. “‘Preparations proceeding smoothly. Weapons and ammunition have been procured, and a force is ready for the command. We expect no resistance when we move in.’”

Galika switched off the projector, and the image vanished. “Now, if that’s not preparations for at least a battle, I’m not sure what is.”

Lucama opened his mouth as if to speak, but only managed a strangled whine. His eyes flitted around the room, watching as all the other delegates turned to face him.

Ezrachi Saticol stood, his eyes narrowing with rage. “How could you?” the cheetah asked, incredulous. As usual, Galika had to suppress the urge to wince at the annoyingly-high tone of the other feline’s voice. “You were willing to jeopardize our unity for your own personal gain? You’ve betrayed us all!” The others rose to their feet, clamoring in anger and accusation.

For a moment Dario glanced around him, looking like a rabbit cornered by hounds. But then, he seemed to grow calmer. He glared at the other delegates, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You had to go poking where you didn’t belong. In truth, I had fully intended to simply keep control of the mines, nothing more. But apparently there is a law against trying to make a simple profit. Whether you wanted a war or not no longer matters.” He slid the portfolio across the table to Galika, along with a withering stare. “War it is.”

No sooner had he finished than the whole room seemed to explode. Everyone began talking and shouting at once, leaping to their feet and hurling accusations at the Tiger’s leader. Hoping for a quick exit, Dario motioned for his assistants and made for the door. The other delegates tried to stop him, and for a moment there was a struggle as those nearest threw themselves in his path. However, Dario simply pushed them aside, bowling over the smaller representatives and clearing a path for the door.

With Dario gone, the remaining delegates quickly began to turn on each other. Accusations were tossed about, and soon blows began to be exchanged. The officers stepped forward to halt the violence, but were simply drawn into the fighting as fists flew and claws flashed. Through it all, only one feline remained calm: Galika Lukanol. A sense of immense satisfaction had filled him, and he struggled to contain the grin he could feel fighting to get free. ‘The last piece falls into place. Now the game begins.’

Within hours, the media was screaming out the news; ‘War Declared’, ‘Distrust Takes Hold’, ‘World Holds Breath for First Move.’ The hammer had fallen, and now all that everyone could do was wait.

For Matakh, it was a crushing blow. With the first report he could feel something in him break, all of the hope he had been clinging to replaced with crushing despair. Tearing his eyes away from the family v-screen, he dashed to his room and shut the door behind him. Even if Meea hadn’t heard the lock engage, she knew better than to try.

Inside, Matakh collapsed onto his bed, trying to come to terms with what had happened. He had been betrayed by his own people, and all over a few stupid rocks. Try as he might, it was just too much for him to process. He reached for his v-book and pulled up his Bible, frantically scrolling to a specific verse.

“‘Psalm 140; Rescue me, O lord, from evil men; protect me from men of violence, who devise evil plans in their hearts and stir up war every day. They make their tongues as sharp as serpent’s; the poison of vipers is on their lips.’ Dear Lord, I feel the same way as King David did when he wrote this Psalm. I feel helpless, vulnerable, alone. Like it said in those verses, I’m faced with people who stir up violence with poisonous words. But I know that you can stop this. You can turn the hearts of our leaders, make them see that there are other ways. I don’t want to get caught up in a war, and neither does my family. Please, please keep this war from coming. I’m begging you. But… if war is part of your plan, I pray that you would give me the strength and the faith to trust in you through the hard times. In Your Son Jesus’ name, Amen.”

That night, as the family ate dinner, the usual conversations were absent. A solemn air had descended over the household, particularly on Matakh, and all four of them ate their meal in relative silence. Afterwards, Matakh returned to his room for the rest of the evening, reading his Bible and praying in earnest. Finally, when he could no longer keep his eyes open, he settled down in his bed with a final plea to heaven and slipped off to a sleep filled with troubling dreams.

Two weeks after war was declared, in the dead of night, the first blow was struck.

Matakh was locked in a horrid nightmare. He was running through his house, but something was very wrong. The air was deathly silent, and the lights were all off, though dingy moonlight streamed through dusty windowpanes. He tried the switches, but to no avail. Beginning to panic, he called out for his family. His voice echoed ominously back at him, the only response to his cries. He raced to check the other rooms of the house, first his parents’ and then Meea’s, but they were all abandoned, and the once-bright furnishings now lay in ruined heaps. It was as if a fire had stormed through their home, leaving only ashes in its wake.

A faint sound came from the direction of his room, and he ran to open his door, daring to hope that he had found his loved ones. But when the panel swung open a horrid blackness rolled out at him, a dark fog that seemed to have a mind of its own. It roiled and twisted about him, ghostly tendrils reaching out like vile snares. One of them swiped against his arm, and a rush of fear and despair traveled up through his body. As he stared at the apparition in revulsion, a pair of gleaming red points appeared in its core, winking at him like sinister eyes. Caught in their malevolent stare, he felt an icy chill take hold in his heart and spread to his limbs. He wanted to run, to scream in terror and flee for his life, but he had been frozen in place. All he could do was stand there as the thing began to envelop him.

As the phantasm closed in around him, Matakh heard a cold chuckle that seemed to come from everywhere at once, and a flurry of whispering voices from inside his own head. He cried out and tried to block his ears, desperate to shut them out, but it did no good. They echoed on in a dreadful chant of pain, despair, and death that mixed with the mocking laughter to form a hellish chorus.

Suddenly, the darkness seemed to break, and a cluster of glowing figures appeared before him. They quickly sharpened until he could make them out, and he felt a thrill of hope as he recognized his family, friends, and the little fennec. He reached out a hand for them, and they all began moving to take it, their faces beaming.

He saw Meea reach out for him, saw her lips part to speak. But just before their fingers could touch a crimson cloud appeared in their midst, morphing into a hideous face with a fanged maw. Whatever Meea had meant to say was lost in her screaming as it fell upon her, and Matakh could only watch as the horror devoured his sister before moving on to the others. One by one their cries of terror rang out as they were caught and consumed, and try as he might, Matakh couldn’t move to save them. Tendrils had wrapped around his limbs, holding him in place and forcing him to watch.

When the last of them, the fox, was swallowed up, the horrible image turned to face him, baring its fangs in a hungry smile that dripped with crimson blood. He fought to escape the blackness that held him, but it was to no avail. He was trapped, pinned down like an animal in a snare. Then the mouth opened wide and leapt for him, and Matakh screamed out in despair…

“Matakh!” his mother’s voice suddenly shouted in his ear.

In an instant he was wide awake, panting and sweating as he looked around him wildly. As his eyes began to focus, he saw the face of Linalia hovering over him. Relief filled him. “Oh, Mom, it’s you. Thank God.” Then he saw the look of worry on her face, and a new kind of fear filled his heart. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

Before Linalia could answer, a dull boom reverberated through his room, and he saw a flash of angry red from outside of his window. A faint tremor ran through the house, rattling the trinkets on his shelves. There were other noises, too; the keening wails of emergency sirens, and above that the dull, foreboding drone of low-flying ships. He was out of bed in a flash, pulling on a set of pajama bottoms as fast as he could.

Linalia had moved to his closet and was busy shoveling blankets into a rucksack. “It’s an air raid,” she panted. “The sirens just started a few minutes ago, but it was the explosions that first woke your father and me. We have to take shelter.”

“Dad,” Matakh gasped. His heart was hammering in his ears, and he felt sick to his stomach. “Where is he?”

“He’s getting your sister right now,” she assured him, heaping a blanket and emergency lantern in his arms. “Now get down to the basement. I’ll be right behind you.”

Matakh nodded and dashed from his room towards the stairwell. A loud whistling pierced the air, which he had just enough time to register as a falling bomb. The next instant there was a horrible shattering blast, and a flash of orange light blared through the windows. The entire house shook to its foundations, sending Matakh tumbling down the steps to the ground floor. He could hear the crackling of flames through one of the front windows, which he realized had been smashed in. To his horror, he realized that the explosion had come from the apartment complex just across the street, the entire structure now consumed by a raging inferno.

Kotaho suddenly appeared next to him, his arms bulging with survival equipment and Meea hovering behind him. “Are you alright?” he asked, helping Matakh to his feet.

“I think so,” he answered. His ears twitched, and he looked up towards the ceiling. The whistling was back, and it was much closer this time. “Does anyone else hear that?” The others all froze and trained their ears, and in the stillness that followed the whining grew louder at an alarming rate. Matakh gasped. “That’s…”

He was cut off when Kotaho suddenly leapt forward, forcing him to tumble back through the open door to the basement. The movement was so sudden that Matakh didn’t even have time to cry out. He heard Meea yelp, saw her falling down behind him and Linalia reaching to close the door after her.

“We love you!” his father’s voice yelled down to them, just as the door slid closed and the whining reached an ear-splitting crescendo.

“DAD!”

The next moment, Matakh’s entire world seemed to shatter into a million pieces. An impossibly-loud blast tore through the space, the very air seeming to convulse violently under the force. Both he and his sister were picked up and sent flying by what felt like a level-ten earthquake. All around them, the contents of the basement were likewise sailing through the air, smashing into the walls, ceiling, floor, and each other. A flying shard of glass whipped across Matakh’s cheek, but he failed to register the impact amidst the turmoil. He couldn’t even make sense of up or down anymore; the entire universe felt like it was imploding around him.

Outside, the little fox yelped as he was blasted backwards by the explosion engulfing the front half of the Etari house. He had been racing for the structure in the hopes of taking shelter there, but now those hopes were destroyed. The force of the blast tossed him into the hedge line around the house, his body bruised and scraped by the impact. Before he could pick himself up again, a piece of flying metal struck him in the head and knocked him unconscious, hanging limp in the shrubs as the Etaris’ home burned.

Matakh was slammed into the wall, only to fall to the floor again. As he rolled onto his back, he saw a wooden beam growing bigger in his field of vision… No, it was coming closer, and fast. ‘This is going to hurt,’ he thought as he braced himself for the inevitable. A solid thump filled his ears, accompanied by a searing pain to his skull, and his world was engulfed in darkness.

Meea saw her brother fall limp to the ground, and as the house finally settled she made to help him. But before she could bring herself to her feet, the ceiling above her gave a mighty groan and collapsed. She screamed out as a hail of plaster chunks, wooden beams and metal supports rained down, burying her alive. Within moments the lioness had been completely covered in rubble. Just before the dust settled another creak resounded through the space as another section of roofing collapsed and buried Matakh as well.

As the last specks of dirt began to settle, not a trace of the two lions was visible. The only sounds were the crackling of flames, the wailing of sirens, and the distant thudding of the air raid outside.

Pain. Sheer, mind-searing pain. It blasted through his being, knifing into his brain like a flaming, barbed sword and rending his spirit. He writhed in agony at the searing pain he felt somewhere in the general area of what he knew to be his back. All he could remember was a scream, and soldiers, and a massive explosion like the end of the world…

The pain surged again, and he recoiled, his spirit retreating from the torment. Though he had been nearing wakefulness, he couldn’t pass the barrier of sheer agony, and Matakh fled from the present and back to the past, to the world of his memories…