Houston Run

Chapter Four

She stood on the balcony on the top floor of the Huxley Tower, her lavender eyes sweeping the skyline of Androxia.

Where were they?

She gazed at the city lights far below, then up at the heavens, idly noting the position of the Big Dipper.

They had to come!

They had to succeed!

Her flowing, oily black hair was whipped by the wind as she turned to the north. The wind felt cool on her scaly yellow skin. Her thin blue dress did little to protect her from the elements.

That bastard had to pay!

Had to reap his punishment for murdering the Doktor!

Her beloved Doktor!

She frowned at the recollection, the memories almost too agonizing to tolerate. She recalled the campaign the Doktor had waged against the accursed Family. She vividly remembered the final battle in Catlow, Wyoming. And tears welled in her eyes as she mentally reviewed the day after that last conflict, when she’d donned a grubby pair of jeans, an old brown shirt, and a tattered tan coat and, after stuffing her waist-length hair into a shabby cap, had ventured into Catlow at sunset, determined to learn the fate of her creator… and her lover.

Somewhere in Androxia, a siren wailed.

She’d viewed the battle from a nearby hill and watched, horrified, as the damned Warriors and their allies defeated the Doktor’s Genetic Research Division, utterly wiped them out. So far as she knew, she was the only one remaining. And she wouldn’t have survived, would have perished with the Doktor and the rest, if her darling mentor hadn’t ordered her to remain behind.

She sobbed.

The Doktor had felt uneasy about Catlow, had even speculated it was a trap. Was that the reason he’d left her behind? Was it because he’d wanted to spare her?

And to think!

She’d almost deserted him!

A lump formed in her throat as the bitter remembrance of her flight from Catlow overwhelmed her. She’d wanted to reach Denver as fast as possible, to demand Samuel II lead a counter-strike against Catlow. She’d gone 20 miles before she’d braked her jeep and done a U-turn, heading back to Catlow. Her intuition had told her the Doktor was dead, but she’d needed to ascertain the truth with her own eyes, to actually see his corpse, before she could accept the reality of his demise. She’d doubled back, concealed the jeep, stolen the clothing she needed from a deserted ranch house, and bravely sallied into Catlow as darkness descended.

And she’d found him.

Tears cascaded down her round cheeks.

The slime!

The fucking slime!

They’d hung the Doktor by his heels from a tree near the town square!

And there they were, the inebriated residents of Catlow, celebrating their newfound independence, drinking and singing and mocking the Doktor.

She’d walked among them, rage filling her being, and had listened to their banter, particularly to the conversation concerning the battle. And she’d learned what she’d needed.

The name of the Doktor’s killer.

Blade.

Right then and there, she’d vowed to repay him, to revenge herself on the son of a bitch. A simple bullet was too good for the bastard. Her vengeance had to be special. Spectacular. She’d wanted Blade to suffer as no man had ever suffered before, and she still did.

Oh, how he’d pay!

She’d departed Catlow, returned to her jeep. And as she drove to the south, a new plan had formed in her devious mind. She’d realized Samuel II might not be equal to the task of destroying the Family, and subsequent events had confirmed her estimation. She’d known she couldn’t achieve her revenge by her lonesome. She’d perceived she needed a better ally than Samuel II, and what better one than the Doktor’s secret confederate in Androxia?

Who better than Primator?

She smiled, stifling the flow of tears, anticipating her impending triumph. It’d taken so long—so damn long—but she’d finally prevailed on Primator to assist her, had convinced him killing Blade was for the benefit of all Androxia.

And the fool had fallen for her ploy!

She thought of Blade writhing in torment as his body was lowered into a vat of molten steel, pleading for his life, and she cackled.