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his body. He turned his head, first to the left, then to the right and finally
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down. His wrists and ankles were bolted securely by chrome cuffs to a
steel-framed, canvas-covered lat-ticework. His body was in a half-reclining
position, and his hands were affixed to the frame at ear level. He also saw he
was naked, just like the man bound to a similar framework or the very same
one. He opened his mouth and felt the plastic muzzle against his lips.
A pale hand moved into his field of vision and patted his cheek. The hand was
slender, with excep-tionally long, tapering fingers. "Back among the liv-ing,"
the melodic voice said. "If you can call it that."
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James Axler - Outlanders - Doom Dynasty
Panic surged through him as his stumbling thought processes finally matched a
face to the voice. Baron
Cobalt glided to his side, his gaunt face creased in a smile of mock sympathy.
He was dressed in robes of shimmering gold, the long flowing sleeves of which
were edged with white fur. The satin draped softly over his slight, spare
frame gave him a majestic ap-pearance.
Stroking Kane's sweat-damp hair as if it were the coat of a dog, the baron
whispered almost lovingly, "My beautiful, treacherous, murderous Kane. I knew
you would return to me one day. I do so admire you, although your passions
really should be more re-strained." His smile broadened, but it did not reach
his eyes. "Oh, we have many things to talk about, so much to catch up on& so
many mutual so acquain-tances to gossip about."
Propping an elbow up on the edge of the frame and leaning on a hand, the baron
asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "Do you remember how you once throttled me,
insulted me, defiled me? What was it you called me?"
Baron Cobalt pursed his lips, pretending to ponder the matter. "Oh, yes. Now I
recall. You told me I was a laboratory monstrosity with an attitude a vampire
living off the genetic material of human be-ings. You called me disgusting."
Kane croaked, a harsh, incomprehensible gargle of sound.
The baron put his ear close to the slotted muzzle. "Pardon? I didn't catch
that."
Kane coughed and with a great deal of effort man-aged to husk out, "Dickless& I
also called you a race of jealous, dickless cowards." His voice was so faint,
and muffled by the muzzle, he barely heard himself.
Baron Cobalt heard him. The twinkle of feigned good humor in his eyes blazed
to fury, burning hot and molten. His delicate nostrils flared. "At least my
kind are not genocidal monsters
!"
The words burst from the baron's mouth in a high-pitched shriek of rage, amid
a spray of spittle. His hands knotted into fists, the knuckles straining
against the finely textured skin so tightly, it appeared as if they would
split the flesh. "Which is worse, Kane? We use your kind, that is true, but we
use only enough of you to survive. Your savage acts have brought my kind to
the very brink of extinction!"
Kane tried to make himself laugh. In a strained, pained whisper, he demanded,
"That's supposed to make me feel guilty?"
A sneer twisted the baron's features, turning his sculpted face into an ugly
mask of contempt. There was desperation in his eyes, and the terror of a man
driven beyond the bounds of reason. He inhaled a deep breath, as if to calm
himself.
"We are a young race," he stated, no longer shrieking but with an unmistakable
quaver under-scoring his voice. "We are hybrids of human and those you call
Archon, but our Homo sapiens genes spring from the very best stock. And for
that reason more than any other, you apekin hate us. But as we need your ape's
blood to live, we spit on your ape minds."
Baron Cobalt passed a hand over his forehead and sighed wearily. "I told you
once before that creation of the new humanity was a matter of natural
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selection, and to accept our intrinsic superiority as we accepted your kind's
innate inferiority. We are better suited to this world, to guide it and
reshape it in a new, more productive image.
"But your ape's mind wouldn't permit that, would it? So now our carefully
structured, orderly world is in turmoil. Hell creeps upon us, the dark angels
of chaos, the very same angels you serve, wait to reap what you have sown. It
is only right and just that humankind must provide our salvation."
The baron stepped away, paced nervously, then re-turned, breathing deeply
through his nostrils. "Do you
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James Axler - Outlanders - Doom Dynasty realize how little your kind has
advanced in the last five hundred years? The last thousand? All of your
achievements were transitory, shiny baubles and toys tinkered together to
deceive and placate the masses.
None of it was of any true worth, none of it had lasting value. There was no
beauty or truth to any of it, or it would have transcended your ape roots and
survived to be cherished by the generations that fol-lowed.
"Even now, two centuries after the nukecaust, hu-mankind continues to live
only by sheer momentum, by force of habit. You have no passion to create, only
to destroy. Humankind is spiritually bankrupt and ob-solete."
A dry laugh creaked out of Kane's mouth. His voice was growing stronger, no
longer as hoarse. "But you still need us& the new humanity can't live without
the old apekin."
Baron Cobalt nodded. "I've already admitted that. Aren't you the least bit
curious why you're not dead?
Don't you wonder why I'm telling you all of this?"
"Because you're a blowhard or crazy or both?"
The baron's mouth quirked in a moue of distaste. "Hardly. I've told you so
you'll be prepared for your new life. You're staying with me, to serve me as
you vowed to do upon your indoctrination into the Trust. I
swear to you, I won't let you die& not until you have repaid your debt,
returned what you have stolen."
"What have I stolen from you?" Kane challenged. "I've only reclaimed what the
barons, the hybrids robbed from all of humanity."
"You've stolen lives, Kane." Baron Cobalt reached out and fingered away a lock
of hair from Kane's fore-head. Gazing into his eyes, the baron said sincerely,
affectionately, "But I'm not punishing you. I'm doing all of this for you. For
the future."
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