The Children of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (top novels to read .TXT) 📕

teammate anyone would want to have on their team. But something wasn't quite right and that was the mood of the visitors. They were feeling it, that the newcomers had something on their minds and didn't exactly welcome them friendly. This did not escape Boss's well-trained eye.

- "Be on your guard," he advised them. "Something might go wrong."

The bad thing was that they had no weapons. But Imaya had taken that into account and had hidden the narEnium needles, which were lethal to stab with.

- "Small consolation," Boss muttered, "but it's still something."

The place was in a daze, and they walked through all the floors, trying to blEnd into the surroundings as much as possible.

- "We're definitely going to come across a clue here," Rento muttered.

The studied features on his face showed what a formidable predator he was. A true beast, ready to kill.

- "Maybe the key to everything is hiding around somewhere," Armborn interjected.

The whole group was pacing like they were in a panic, because they realized that it could get very, very dangerous if they were attacked with some more serious weapon.

It needed to be made clear that the setting of the place itself represented a sort of history of Zegandaria. There were quite a few cyberpunk style elements. Various holographic images of people wearing giant electronic virtual reality goggles, or whacked out and almost comical worlds that could only exist in the warped imagination of some sick brain.

- "I like this place," laughed the cowboy. "It's a little too modern for my tastes, but it shows elements of decadence, which I'm genuinely pleased about."

Cyberpunk was a new cultural phenomenon on the planet, and many of the venues followed this trend of anti-utopian atmosphere and post-industrialism, which appealed greatly to the patrons.

The other members of the group especially looked it up. His comments could sometimes be quite scathing.

The decoration on each of the floors had its own charm and the bottom floor, intended for the real touts, was particularly striking. No one went there often, however, because the rules about carrying weapons did not apply there.

It was four times larger than any of the other floors and was intended for VIPs and dangerous criminals who mostly negotiated various contraband deals or just wanted to catch their breath before justice came after them again.

However, no matter how much they questioned, our adventurers did not get a single satisfactory answer to any of their questions, which was more than a little strange.

- "Anyone would have heard something at least," Boss muttered before remembering the strange Barry Ecclestone sign on the first floor.

When their group entered, Mark and Sasia had long since left the establishment. They, along with Durnyam, also headed in the direction of the cultists. They had to do the right thing and find the shambling religious cult soon. Durnyam was still lingering. They were unaware of his meeting with the supreme Om Gur Nal and the need to gain his favour.

The politics of Zegandaria had become much more ambivalent about dealing with matters of paramount importance. Not double or triple but even quintuple standards were being used to solve problems. But that was the price of peace and stability.

Durnyam got strong assurances from Om Gur Nal that he would have his support and crush the religious cult with or without the support of the Archistratum, come what may.

The Myeranians were long gone from this planet as they had made their home elsewhere, on the distant planet of Sebur Nag. The mutant Solomons had also been purged and were not causing trouble. The archaneans had shrunk their nests too far and had received official confirmation that they would never be hooked again. It was as if they had forgotten about them, something that was actually welcome. They only had to observe controlled breeding of their offspring - anything more.

"Cohabitation must be maintained somehow though!," had said Om Gur Nal, and he was right.

There were now only three major races left on the planet Zegandaria - humans, guarrons, and archaneans.

THE DUTCHESS OF LEARNIA

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: THE DUTCHESS OF LEARNIA

 

The Duchess of Learnia was a first cousin of the Archmistress and a staunch supporter of returning the old autocratic regime from before the Second Migration Wave to Zegandaria. Republican ideas didn't appeal to her very much anyway and Om Gur Nal kept ignoring them in his choice of visit. He preferred to go to Ossonia, Sebur Nag, or even planets like Kickluk Sor, but very rarely did he do them the honour of visiting. It was definitely frustrating and even Annoying, but all she could do was suck it up and swallow it. Her cousin, the Archmistress, was also proving to be a bony nut, basically standing in her domain. But there was something else that was known only to her. Nowhere and no one knew that she wanted to oust Kazuk Mon from the leadership post. That was her secret wish. Learnia was a special place, an appendage of sorts to the district of Synthros, the traces of the brutal attacks of the guarrons were still evident here, but the settlers had erected a new city, Kimur Zon, which was renowned for its strength and power. Too many wanted to surpass its splendour and appropriate the grandeur of its achievements. Many of the most prominent archaneans were welcomed in Kimur Zon, of all places, where they taught their secret knowledge, not without the patronage of the Duchess.

Her opinion of her cousin was somewhat controversial, but she was doing everything in her power to maintain good relations with him. In any case, she did not want to fall into a conflict of interest, because that would be downright unacceptable. The Archistratus, however, remained ever so distant even though the distance between Learnia and Synthros was not a hundred and fifty to two hundred miles.

- "What is my cousin up to?," she wondered, but the answer kept eluding her. "Something big, surely! It couldn't be otherwise!"

The Duchess rose and began to walk round her domain, which was not small. Learnia stretched over roughly a hundred thousand scintillae and was about ten times the size of the entirety of Labor Colony 206, say. In her lifetime of almost fifty years, she had seen, if not everything, at least almost everything - assassinations, coup attempts and usurpations of her post, betrayals, and even an armed invasion of her own territory. She'd ruled this land for almost twenty years, but she'd also taken part in the Battle of Diomedes Base earlier. She remembered old Uncle Zengar and all his shenanigans well. She hadn't forgotten Sasia and Keith's visit either. Those were the old days that were irretrievably lost. Now life offered a new reality. She definitely felt lonely, not because of scruples and stupid ideas, but because the circle around her was slowly but surely narrowing, and she knew it perfectly. Whatever her cousin was up to, sooner or later she too would reap the consequences of his decisions.

She had vaguely suspected his relationship with the archivist and their possible alliance, but had never brought the matter up with him. She pretended not to see and not to hear. So far!

Kimur Zon's population was around forty thousand, which was rather typical for a medium caliber settlement, but its economy and armed forces were highly developed.

As different as she and her cousin were, she did her best to support him and even acknowledged some of his merits - after all, he had crushed the rebels, and without batting an eye. So calmly and brutally. She didn't doubt he knew what to do. And he did it without hesitation.

The following song drifted through her domain:

 

"The Duchess for the Archist knows,

Not a word does she want to say,

That all, very soon will turn to war!"

 

She only smiled, and when asked said there was no such thing. It was rather sad, but perfectly true. Things were constantly changing. And she was trying to go between the drops, but soon things would become unbearable. "It was my fate," she would say. "But I won't give in! There's still a little, very, very little left!" But inwardly she was still worried. She did not suspect the Archivist's doom. Nor of the ascension of the new Mag Tu.

One thing was certain, she had to prepare herself for the most unexpected events that could even be fatal. And she didn't know how her subjects would react.

THE RITUAL

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THE RITUAL

 

Soon the magical ritual had its results, and all eyes were fixed on the brutal glare of the reanimans. Crackles were heard, but nothing else happened. A violent wind arose and various lonely leaves scattered around the pedestal. And that was it. It lasted only a few minutes. Then the energy gradually weakened and when everything all eyes were on Emborian. He was ashamed, for he had not expected such a development. Then everyone wondered if the higher powers had withdrawn their blessing from him. But somewhere in the bottom of his soul he knew he was wrong. This was no accident. There were many demons who must not have approved of his deed. Many, too many even. He had even transgressed his patron's recommendation. Something practically unforgivable. But why had the ritual started like the humans anyway?

The worshippers began to leave with a murmur, but little could hide the distrust they had for the new Mag Tu. Yes, they hadn't shied away from him, but if he couldn't show his abilities in the days to come, they would remove him from office for good.

Emborian spent his days circling the colony. The woman was steadfastly by his side, helping him with whatever she could. He pulled away from the other people and just started sidestepping everyone. They continued to have respect for his knowledge and the immense dignity he showed upon being crowned Mag Tu. But only so much.

Emborian did not return to the crypt, nor to the ziggurat, but shut himself in even more. He knew he had to leave this place soon. It was the right thing to do. And so it would have to be.

Around the colony there was lovely field vegetation, if sparse, and somewhere far over the horizon were fields of gorse and hiras and elendorans.

Emborian was still wearing Zorin's clothes and pacing dejectedly, and Kibera was happily trotting along beside him. She was older and more mature, but preferred to go with him to staying in the colony. That was her final decision, and Emborian respected it. The two