“Tell me the truth!” Betha hissed. Her anger grew by the moment. She was ready to tear into them. “Stop it! Stop it! If I were a barbarian, I would slaughter you right here.” She rubbed her palms rapidly against the folds of her dress to calm her nerves, to be rational in her plotting.

The creatures stopped, looked at each other. “We must, we must.” They shook their heads in unison.

“Tell me-e-e!”

“She, she is genetically, genetically connected...to...to...our ruler.” The larger creature cringed.

Bethe-busa laughed once again, hips shaking until she cried.

The creatures fluttered about her. “Your Gracious, can we help?”

“Yes.” She tapped her foot beneath her gown. This was too good. “Change her identity, cloak her real heritage, and choose from another planet a royal identity for her, so she may to enter the school of aspiring cloak women. No one must ever know who she really is. Kill all the records of her previous existence, from this point on.

“Do it, now! Oh, yes,” she hissed. Her eyes darted around the room as she calculated. The child’s new name mustn’t be traceable—perhaps, a deceased family of royalty. “Of course,” she considered, “we always have envoys proposing their young one become the queen. But in the end, I will be more than a queen. I will be the sole ruler of Araidia and all of Shatazar. Why?”

The foul creatures were shaking. She wished to crush them like bugs, but couldn’t. They were the only ones who knew how to maintain this overly complex machine, the Centrex.

She laughed and continued. “Because we will cause her to hate Eyetna, her own father, and because of her hatred toward him, she will destroy him. Of course, one can merely guess the rest. Prepare her.”

Betha paused for a moment. “Oh, when you heal her and change her identification, don’t erase all the scars. Leave some on her back to remind her of who she is and her loss. That will give us some leverage.”

The three attendants remained near her, their arms folded behind and feet spread apart, all awaiting her command. They were faithful, ready to lay down their lives for her. They were accessible to her every whim and need. A pity. She gave instructions to all three attendants to carry Leptis to a gravesite—a tomb located in the lower regions of the cave, an enclosed space usually sealed. They marched, carrying the body to a camouflaged door in the corner and descended into the dark, dank lower region of the catacombs.

“Well?” She peered at the creatures. “What are you waiting for? Turn on the viewer.” They obeyed her command, each creature in concert with the other, rushing to a nearby platform to wave a control on for viewing.

The screen engulfed the room, showing every detail of each guard in sections. She loved the overwhelming light flickering over her. Abruptly, she turned toward the viewer. “On with the job. Hone in on Ta-on and my attendant.” The creatures squabbled and squawked. “You fools, they’re in the air mobile.”

In concert, they cried, “Oh yes, yes, your Grace.”

For a moment, Betha was blinded by all the light play. Still, it didn’t hinder her. She pointed to a shiny handle with an ebony sphere by its side.

They both let out a high squeal. “No, Your Grace, do not touch it!”

She withdrew her hand and placed it over her mouth. “Oh, my,” she said, sweetly, sarcastically. “And tell me what does it do?”

She loved this game, putting them in fear. Obviously, they had no idea how much she knew about the Centrex.

“It is the destructor. It...it relays a message to the implanted disc in your target to receive detonation timing. It...it will make any implanted disc a time bomb, your Grace. The sphere detonates it to...to...explode!”

As the custodian spoke, she inched closer to the handle, pushed it down, and the rotated the sphere. The custodians squealed, cowering as if they were inside the air mobile, which exploded and disintegrated to nothingness. The two crouched in a corner, whimpering.

“Get up, you filth-infested slime. This same thing can happen to you if our secret becomes known. I would have never believed it. Eyetna’s sister killed by an old guardsman while sneaking the child into the city. No one would believe me and no one will ever know of the child’s records, but you. And no one will know of Leptis’ death, but you.

“Remember, I know where you are. I have eyes that see everywhere.” She paused, letting the tension rise, their nervousness nearly boiling over. “Even where you least expect it. So you cannot fail me.” She breathed in and out for temperance. It was tasking not to kill those two. She had to gain control of her tone. “Never, never go against me.” She covered her bosom with her hand. “Never keep anything I wish from me…or this same fate will be yours. You are all now guilty. That means, if our Eyetna learns of this, you will be to blame.”

They trembled, holding each other.

“Our task is not complete, yet. Hone in on my attendants in the tomb.”

They heeded her command.

“What is this button?” It shined like a jade.

The creatures sadly cocked their heads. “It, it is the sealer of the tombs, Your Grace,” the creature cried out.

“Press it, my little friend. Press it!”

Neither of them responded. Flustered, she grabbed one of the creature’s foul hands and slammed it on the jade button.

“I should cut off your hand.”

Loud creaking walls were enclosing around the attendants and darkness threatened to prevail. It was a beautiful witness to her, viewing the monitor while the audio operated superbly. She could clearly see the tomb closing and Leptis’s body on a slab. The men stood at attention within the dimmed light. They weren’t worried; they were courageous—as if they knew.

That is courage, to face death pleasantly, Betha mused. She was well-pleased with them.

She strode toward the handle, pulled it down, and rotated the ebony sphere. Bright lights flashed from the image, and suddenly, no image. Now, the only thing to do was to select more attendants. She’d been going through them quickly, lately.

She left the med lab with her custodians that squawked and quivered from behind. Betha’s new assignment given from the Watchman Eyetna was, at first, insignificant. But now, this new discovery opened to her treasures beyond her imagination.

●

The custodians were distraught by the actions of her grace, Betha-busa. Now, the girl needed repairing, new data, and a new household. They couldn’t disclose what the dignitary had shared with them. They’d been given this mandate by the Bernardians to be the custodians of the Centrex and never to interfere with the schemes and daily manipulations of Shatazar’s inhabitants. Well, perhaps they couldn’t tell anyone what Betha planned to do, but they could improvise the information a little to neutralize her schemes. They could do that; they decided. They were the custodians, and no one watched over them.

They turned to the task the dignitary had given them. “Her sk-sk-skin is too d-d-dark. You must change her skin,” Bashii stuttered, frantically.

“No, no, I cannot,” Hann retorted. “We do not have the technology to change her factor of melanin to the absence of it. Even so, we cannot, cannot use the med lab. There will be imbalance.”

“Oh my, His Worship Eyetna will notice. He will k-k-kill us all! Who will care for Centrex? Centrex will be all alone and all the people of Araidia will die.”

“You worry too much. I have seen dark Araidians in the sand region. It is a rare, rare thing. But they do exist.”

Hann waddled to other unreachable controls and climbed onto a platform lift to change the Centrex’s memory file of the child, from one Shatarian and Araidian mixed to full-blooded Araidian. His nubby hands waved to display a hologram with star systems and eligible planets inhabiting Araidians. Codes, data, strings of equations flowed from their fingers, faster and faster. But it wasn’t fast enough. Hann had to connect to his cerebrum chip.

This he hated because it caused pain and felt like he would double over. He had to be closely monitored. He thanked the stars for Bashii being there to watch, but not for Bashii’s stuttering, which didn’t reflect his comrade’s intelligence. If Hann overloaded the information, whether input or output, it could leave him a vegetable. Bashii knew this and how to regulate the Centrex.

Yes, yes, they were risking their lives to hide the child’s secret in Araidia of Shatazar. If the Illustrious Watchman and his dissidents found out, death would follow. Maybe, maybe, they could make her a friend, an ally, and teach her about Centrex.

Uh-huh, uh-huh… Yes! Her new life begins right now! Hann smiled.

“M-m-memory in tact?” Bashii asked.

“Yes, yes. In the computer there is history on her as far as the outer regions of our solar system. But,” he scratched his head covered with warts, “she has her own memory. I cannot change it. Too much virulence in her system. Centrex won’t respond against reedpods. Centrex hates reedpods. Hmmm.” Hann shook his head, so many complications.

Bashii crossed his arms, “W-w-what will happen now?”

“They will train, train her and retrain her in the art to please the Watchman, I suppose. She is delicate, so delicate for an Araidian, so innocent. I wonder if she’ll survive what Betha intends for her? We must ask the child her name and use that one. From there, we’ll create a false surname and give both, both names to Betha. That should protect her, yes, protect her more. And she will remember her name and much, much more.”

The child was unconscious. Her bleeding had been stopped, and her wounds healed, but her heart? No. Hann shook his head. This was sad, so sad. They somehow had to help her more. But how? Bashii and Hann took each other’s hands, faced each other, and nodded. What they told Betha about Delah’s genetic connection should help keep her safe for now. They were her secret guardians—well, as much as possible.

Betha would not hear them make this pact because it was without words, but in Centrex code. They would make sure, make sure Betha would not push the target button or turn the handle on this child.

--End of Chapter.