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“I’m going to give you a piece of friendly advice, however. It’s good advice, so if I were you, I’d take it. Your temper got you in trouble the last time we met, along with your smart remarks. I think you remember that occasion, don’t you?”
Blake just stared at him, not trusting himself to speak.
“Let me jog your memory. It was on Tygeria, about twenty years ago. You were…a bit underdressed on that occasion.”
Blake felt his face flame up so suddenly he wondered if it had actually caught fire. It was all he could do to simply stand there and not react.
“I’m surprised you haven’t learned to control your words a bit better after all these years, Mr. Cameron. But since you apparently can’t, I think you need to start learning to keep your mouth shut. I’ll help you. From now until I say differently, you and your broadcasting station are under a…I believe you call it a gag order…when it comes to me and my empire.”
“What? N-no, Your Majesty, please. I’ll lose my job when they find out.”
“Too bad. But it’s better than losing your freedom.”
“Uh…what? I mean, I don’t understand, Your Majesty.”
“I think you do, Blake Cameron. You’ve been attacking me and my sons publicly over our laws here in this territory. It needs to stop, or else demands will be made on me to do something about you. Think of this as a preemptive strike.”
“I…I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll stop writing about you and your sons. I promise.”
Davos snorted and looked as if he’d like to say more, but a handsome human male with dark hair walked in, dressed in similar business attire to Blake and carrying a large communicator-like tablet. The king waved his hand at Blake in dismissal, indicating that he was done with him.
“A gag order, Mr. Cameron. The human attorneys assure me that’s the name and you’ll know what that means. I’ll revisit the subject in a month or two. Until then…” he made a motion like zipping shut his lips.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Blake turned to leave, but the king’s voice rang out to stop him. “Where are you going? You haven’t been dismissed.”
Blake stopped in his tracks and hesitantly turned back to face the king. “I have more to say to you, but I need to get back upstairs to the conference. Stay here until my return.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The king turned away to speak to the human aide, who glanced at Blake curiously.
Feeling sick, Blake just waited, not knowing whether or not he should sit down. After a few more minutes, he began walking toward a chair by the door. It could have been worse, he thought, trying to console himself. Davos could have put him in jail today and thrown away the key.
He made it almost to the chair, when the double doors to the suite suddenly exploded inward with a huge roar, the shock wave of sound and air radiating into the room. The wind of the explosion knocked one of the tall, heavy doors into Blake, sweeping him off his feet and hurtling both him and the door backward. Someone caught Blake in strong arms as he slammed into them. The furnace-like blast of hot air hit mere fractions of a second later. Debris began to fall from the ceilings in huge chunks, and Blake was vaguely aware of being dragged under the massive table in the room.
He was only about half-conscious when the noise mostly stopped. He saw Davos peering down into his face and calling his name from what seemed like far away, until he realized he couldn’t hear very well. He blinked hard and then closed his eyes, intending to rest for a moment, but because he was so dizzy, he began to slowly drift away, like a balloon that had broken its string in a bid for freedom. It felt good to float that way, though, up, up in the sky, not worrying about anything at all. For the second, or possibly the third, time that morning, Blake decided he felt more like checking out than staying around to figure out what had happened.
And so he did.
Chapter Four
A light, some voices calling from what seemed like far away, and an awful, sick pounding in his head finally woke Blake up. He blinked a few times, unsure of what the hell had happened to him and trying desperately to make sense of it.
He was aware, first of all, of lying stretched out on a hard floor, though his head was being cradled on someone’s lap. It felt so good he made a soft, appreciative sound.
“He’s coming around,” a voice said from above him. Blake understood it, so they were speaking Earthan.
“Blake Cameron? Can you hear me? Where are you hurt?”
Blake recognized the deep, growly sound of King Davos’s voice, and he tried to listen to what he was asking him. He knew he’d be in trouble if he didn’t reply, but he couldn’t quite manage it. The throbbing in his head was like a knife stabbing repeatedly into his brain whenever he tried to open his eyes, so it was much nicer to simply keep them closed. He began to drift away again, and someone said, “He’s going out again.”
“Blake,” a loud, authoritative voice said, right in his face. “Don’t you dare go back to sleep.”
It was the kind of voice you listened to, so he opened his eyes and felt a cold sweat spring up all over him. He made a little whimpering sound, and he was rolled over to his side so he could throw up what felt like everything he had in his stomach.
It wasn’t really, of course, although it felt like it. By the time it was finally over, he was weak, and his head felt like it was about to pop right off his shoulders and roll away like one of the big marbles he used to play with as a boy. He used to spend hours with his marbles, he remembered. He liked the big ones the best, and he sometimes traded them with his friends. He had this one called a cat’s eye, and …
