Malaika’s Secret

By Vijaya Schartz

Special Agent Tyler Conrad works security undercover on the Byzantium Space Station and adheres to a strict moral code. When strange beings with wings are murdered, and a dangerous lion wanders the station’s indoor streets, Tyler’s investigation leads him to a mysterious woman, who could make him break all his rules and get them both killed.

Forbidden to love, the beautiful Malaika, guardian of the glowing crystal in the temple of the Formless One, is an illegal mind-reader who hides perilous secrets. She has seen the great evil coming to Byzantium but must hide her extraordinary abilities or perish with her people.

When Admiral Mort Lowell, a hybrid Tenebran nicknamed the Vampire, makes a surprise visit to Byzantium, Tyler knows something wicked is afoot...

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Sep 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9780228614852

Vijaya Schartz

Award-winning author Vijaya Schartz never conformed to anything and could never refuse a challenge. She likes action and exotic settings, in life and on the page. She traveled the world and claims she comes from the future. Her books collected many five-star reviews and literary awards. She makes you believe you lived these extraordinary adventures among her characters. So, go ahead, dare to experience the magic, and she will keep you entranced, turning the pages until the last line. Find more about Vijaya and her books at http://www.vijayaschartz.com

Book preview

Malaika’s Secret

Byzantium Book Three

By Vijaya Schartz

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 978-0-2286-1485-2

Kindle 978-0-2286-1486-9

PDF 978-0-2286-1487-6

Print ISBNs

Amazon 978-0-2286-1488-3

LSI 978-0-2286-1489-0

B&N 978-0-2286-1490-6

Copyright 2020 by Vijaya Schartz

Cover art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book

Dedication

To adventurous spirits who boldly go… and read stories set in space.

Chapter One

Monastery of the Formless One, Byzantium Space Station.

Malaika struggled to breathe. She should wake up but she couldn’t.

A stunning naked woman with dark blue skin and black wings billowed out of the inky darkness. Her six arms, adorned with jewels, undulated around her like serpents as her hands fluttered like birds. Facing her, a host of bright angels wielding luminous blue swords hovered in the dark sky. The entity pointed her long, bejeweled fingers in many directions at once. An intense, fiery wave shot out of her fingers and struck the angels.

Dozens of Avenging Angels flared then dropped like wounded birds and crashed onto the hard ground of the desolate planet below with a sickening thud.

The remaining angels fired back with bright energy surging from their swords, but the dark entity absorbed and blackened that energy to make it hers. When she aimed and fired again, many more angels fell out of the sky. Then she fired again… and again.

Malaika experienced the angels’ intense pain as her body ripped and burned in the searing heat of the hellish weapons. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Such beautiful lives destroyed, such senseless killings.

On the ground below, the silvery wings, twisted and broken, turned black, and the angels’ bright inner light waned as they exhaled their last breath. Then their calcinated bodies turned to ashes, scattered by the wind.

The dark entity stared straight at Malaika and offered a cold smile. My name is Kalishtar. The black eyes gleamed with malevolence. I bring death, destruction, and a new path for the rebirth of this galaxy. The woman laughed and waved her many arms like silk ribbons. And since there is no place in my world for the likes of you, you are next, Azuran bitch!

Malaika fought to stop the nightmare. Azurans didn’t have bad dreams. She jerked awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding, raw, and sickened by the carnage she’d just witnessed. She’d never heard of Kalishtar, but this was no ordinary vision. She could still smell the brimstone. Either the battle had already happened somewhere in the universe, or it would happen soon… then the dark entity would come for her.

Malaika willed her heartbeat to slow. Azurans didn’t get rattled. Opening her eyes, she took in the serene atmosphere and the soft blue light of her private cell in the temple complex. She regulated her breathing, reminding herself she was safe here, on Byzantium, in the monastery of the Formless One.

The strong vibrations of the blue crystal in the adjacent temple protected her and the other Azurans in the monastery from any harm. No evil could reach them under the glowing blue dome. Soft musical harmonies filled the air, and the sweet scent of heavenly blossoms pervaded the entire temple complex.

Besides, the Byzantium Space Station lay at the edge of conquered space, many lightyears from any planet. But the distance separating Malaika from the place of her horrible vision brought her little comfort.

The Azurans provided light, healing, and compassion in this part of the galaxy. Their very presence safeguarded the balance of good and evil in the entire quadrant… but it also made them a target for malevolent entities.

Once calmer, Malaika sat up on her pallet, crossed her legs, and folded her hands in a meditation pose. Closing her eyes, she focused her mind on sharing her vision with the rest of the Azurans living on Byzantium. If danger was coming, they deserved to know in order to prepare.

When she sensed the minds of her brothers and sisters, she sent them a mental message. Danger is coming. Warn all Azurans living in secular habitats on station to seek refuge in the monastery.

As the head and guardian of the temple of the Formless One on Byzantium, Malaika must keep them safe. Here, the Sacred Crystal would protect them… she hoped.

She shuddered at the alternative.

* * *

Security Headquarters, Byzantium Space Station.

Chief Dakar leaned forward over the shiny surface of his clear desk. The singularity plagued the Byzantium Space Station for an entire week. All ships in the quadrant were thrust upon our shore and remained trapped here… then it ceased, as suddenly as it started, and traffic resumed as usual.

I agree. It’s very bizarre. Tyler Conrad wondered why the chief stated the obvious. We also know it happened twice before, in different sectors of the galaxy.

Exactly. Chief Dakar nodded. I do not believe it was random, and I want you to investigate that singularity, Lieutenant.

Tyler Conrad didn’t want such a big assignment. He’d hoped to keep a low profile, but a refusal would raise suspicions. Maybe, a scientist would be a better choice for the job, sir.

Chief Dakar shrugged. His face grew somber and darker than usual under the bright lights of the security office. The scientists have failed. I trust your exceptional investigative skills.

Great! More responsibilities. As if Tyler didn’t have enough on his plate. The phenomenon has come and gone from the vicinity of Byzantium, leaving no trace. We have no measurable data to study.

You have shown yourself to be very resourceful in the few months you’ve been with us, Lieutenant. Chief Dakar smiled, with a row of perfect white teeth in his jovial dark face. You deserve a chance to challenge your skills.

Thank you, sir. I usually enjoy challenges. That would teach Tyler to excel in his temporary job, even though it was only a cover. But finding the truth was always worth the effort, no matter how unimportant it seemed at the time. Besides, working security was definitely below his pay grade.

Chief Dakar glanced out the transparent wall of his second-floor office, overlooking the Forum. I believe we are being targeted, Lieutenant.

So did Tyler. You believe it’s a manufactured weapon, sir?

I do. Dakar leaned back in his chair. And if I’m right, there must be a trail to follow… disappearing scientists, secret research facilities, or clandestine scientific experiments. I want to know who engineered it and how, and for what purpose.

Yes, sir. Tyler might even enjoy the assignment.

When we know more about the phenomenon, we can ask our scientists to devise means to circumvent it… should it present itself again. The tall and sturdy security chief rose and handed Tyler a tablet.

I’ll do my best, sir. Tyler took the tablet, saluted, then turned around, hiding his doubts behind a stoic expression. How could he single-handedly be expected to solve the mystery?

Tyler would need to collect extensive data to analyze the phenomenon. Researching it from the backwaters of the Byzantium Space Station, with the limited resources that implied, would constitute a challenge. But challenging investigations were Tyler’s specialty.

Morning bells rang as he sat at his desk, adjacent to the Chief’s office. Through the transparent walls delimiting the various areas, Tyler noticed the flow of security officers in black uniform checking in for the morning shift.

He glanced down through the clear flexglaz wall overlooking the Forum, a busy commercial hub, the heart of the Byzantium Space Station. On the square below, affluent tourists and businessmen headed toward the various restaurants for breakfast. The lights came on in many shop windows. The artificial illumination, imitating the arc of a sun, cast pale shadows at this time of day.

At first glance, one could believe the station to be a tourist destination, and a model of Galactic Trade Alliance (GTA) efficiency. That would be far from the truth.

A few decks below the veneer of the main level, the lawless slums of the deeper sublevels harbored the most dangerous rabble of the galaxy. But what happened in the slums remained in the slums. Since the singularity, these levels remained on complete lockdown to protect the valuable tourist trade.

As for the hellish pit of the Fortress, the infamous penitentiary at the deepest bottom of Byzantium, few survived more than a few weeks there. Radioactive exposure and Falla, the drug keeping the prisoners tame, killed them quickly.

From his second-floor vantage point, Tyler scanned the length of the rectangular Forum below. At the far end, a large blue dome glowed like a beacon. Tyler still hadn’t made time to check out the relatively new structure. The mysterious blue temple had given rise to intriguing rumors of magic and miracles… probably just a bunch of unfounded speculations.

His professional eye noticed the pickpockets sitting on public benches. Their fleeting gazes darted right and left, as they waited for an opportunity. He shook his head. He rather enjoyed working security on Byzantium. More interesting action on this old space station at the fringe of conquered space, than on any GTA planet… and less politics.

Besides, this security job gave him the perfect cover for his real work, the secret investigation of the station commander for Internal Affairs.

The lift doors opened with a puff of compressed air. Tyler glanced at the opening doors and froze. Talk about the devil.

Station commander Paul Neuville, the very man he was investigating, strode out of the elevator into the second-floor security office. He walked very straight in his black uniform, two silver circles on his collar, black boots almost silent on the soft decking. What was the silver fox doing here?

According to the restricted files Tyler received for his investigation, the commander had his brilliant military career cut short after a dubious engagement on the battlefield. Rumors said he’d tipped the Resistance and should have been court-martialed and executed for treason… but unknown to most, the commander came from a very influential family.

In the absence of tangible proof, Commander Neuville still hadn’t been exonerated, but discreetly shanghaied to a dead-end command on this decrepit space station. Even the GTA brass couldn’t accuse him of treason, and even less convict him. But they never gave up the investigation.

So, unknown to the station officials, Internal Affairs sent Tyler as an undercover agent, in hopes he could secure the kind of indisputable evidence they needed to convict the commander. The problem was, Tyler hadn’t found any conclusive proof… yet. But he would get to the truth. He always did.

Security Chief Dakar walked out of his clear flexglaz office to greet the visitor, straightened, and saluted. Commander Neuville. It’s a privilege.

Chief. Commander Paul Neuville returned the salute then scanned the offices through the flexglaz walls. Slight tension tightened the lines around his pale blue eyes.

Activity and conversations on the entire floor ceased at the surprise visit. All stared at their station commander through the transparent walls separating the various sections of the security floor.

How can we help you, Commander? Chief Dakar sounded circumspect. A visit from the man in charge could only mean trouble.

Commander Neuville locked his hands behind his back and pursed his lips. Chief, I need this entire station to be shipshape. Admiral Mort Lowell surprises us with an unscheduled stop on Byzantium. I suspect there will be a security inspection as well.

Admiral Lowell? Fark! Tyler hated surprises. By the crimson eye of Antares, he wasn’t ready for his real boss to show up in the middle of his covert mission.

Chief Dakar frowned and indicated his office. Lowell? Never heard of him. Who is he?

Commander Neuville shrugged and followed Dakar inside. Not sure. Some obscure big Kahuna from GTA Headquarters.

Tyler resented being kept in the dark. Why did the secret head of Internal Affairs, who assigned him to investigate Neuville, feel the need to come in person? There had to be a serious reason. Tyler had not yet decided whether he should report Neuville as a Resistance sympathizer. He only had strong suspicions and circumstantial evidence, but no irrefutable proof… yet.

What does the big Kahuna want? Leaving the glass door open, Chief Dakar dropped into his chair. When the brass comes to visit, they usually want something.

Tyler could see and hear them but pretended to stare at his screen.

The admiral didn’t say. Neuville also sat. He didn’t seem alarmed, but he should be. I guess we’ll find out when he arrives tomorrow.

Dakar shook his head. I don’t like it.

Tyler turned his attention back to his screen, but his mind whirled. Was he in trouble with his boss? Impossible. He was a model special agent. He’d fraternized with the station commander on a few occasions, but only in the interest of his investigation.

Over the last few weeks, Tyler had learned to appreciate Commander Neuville. In many instances, the man had shown exceptional ethics and a good heart, and unlike most GTA politicians, he tended to do the right thing, regardless of potential consequences. A rare quality among the highest ranks. Maybe that’s what landed Neuville on Internal Affairs’ list.

Admiral Mort Lowell, on the other hand, would probably sell his soul to Belzebuth himself for a chance at controlling the GTA. But the admiral was Tyler’s true superior, and as such, had his full loyalty.

Tyler sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to their meeting, or rather his debriefing with the admiral, especially since his investigation didn’t bring any concrete results so far.

The main wall screen pinged and flashed red with an urgent message. Everyone in the security office turned toward the clear wall screen and watched the face of a young female officer fill the upper left section. Tyler turned up the volume.

We have a double homicide on Level-2, Delta Quadrant, residential zone. Never seen anything like it. Looks like the victims’ necks were gouged. Weird. And judging by the open steel cage and reports by residents, a lion is on the prowl in the vicinity. Illegal animal trade, no doubt. The cage has no permit attached, no stated ownership, provenance, or destination.

A lion slaughtered two civilians on station? Tyler’s face turned to ice. He’d always felt uncomfortable around cats big or small, but especially lions.

Chief Dakar and Commander Neuville now stood next to him, watching the wall screen.

The beast may not be the killer. The female cop on the screen grimaced. Residents who saw the animal say the lion is skeletal and probably hungry. He’s also hurt, limping and bleeding from one back leg. The beast could have simply escaped from its steel crate during whatever scuffle killed the two victims.

Still. A wounded animal is even more dangerous to the population. Tyler shouldn’t get involved but couldn’t help it. After all, he was a natural investigator… or his fear of big cats pushed him to ask. What about the security cameras?

All disabled in this sector. The female cop flashed her tablet to show a screen full of static. That’s all they recorded… static.

Tyler didn’t believe in coincidences. This indicates premeditation.

Chief Dakar rubbed his smooth jaw. We can’t have a dangerous predator on the loose when the admiral arrives on station.

Oh, wait. One more thing. The female officer on the screen pointed her camera at the two bodies on the deck. Look at this.

The bodies seemed surrounded by a turquoise glow. They lay face down, with gaping holes in the back of their necks. Then the image zoomed out upon large, silvery, feathered wings, broken and sticking out of the bodies at odd angles. Wings?

I forgot to mention. The victims look mostly humanoid… but look… they also have wings with large feathers, like birds.

Commander Neuville froze and stared at the image on the screen. The lines around his pale blue eyes hardened. Did he know something he wasn’t telling?

It’s the first time I’ve heard about humanoids with wings. Chief Dakar frowned at the gruesome tableau. Except for ancient mythology, of course.

Tyler recalled Greek and Egyptian gods with wings. But some still believed the legends of Guardian Angels of the universe protecting lone travelers. The souvenir shops of most spaceports sold winged figurines of so-called angels. Could such beings really exist?

I had to see it to believe it, but here they are. The female officer sounded convinced.

If we are dealing with an alien race, this could be a very delicate matter. Commander Neuville made eye contact with Tyler. I recommend Lieutenant Tyler Conrad take the lead on this investigation.

Fark! Tyler should have kept his mouth shut.

Security Chief Dakar nodded. I agree. He’s our best man for the job.

And we need this matter resolved quickly. Commander Neuville held Tyler’s gaze. Lieutenant, can you do it discreetly?

Tyler grasped at straws to avoid a high-profile assignment involving a lion. What about investigating the singularity?

Chief Dakar waved away his comment. The singularity can wait a few days. This current situation must get handled now.

Tyler swallowed his misgivings and forced a calming breath into his lungs. Then he nodded to his superiors. I’d be honored.

Good. We are counting on your efficiency and your discretion. Commander Neuville walked back toward the lift and made a turnabout. Lieutenant, I want to be apprised of every step of this investigation. Is that clear?

Tyler glanced at Chief Dakar, who nodded his assent. Of course, Commander.

Saluting, Tyler cursed himself for being such a yes man. Military discipline and respect for his higher-ups had been ingrained into him from a young age… along with honor, justice, and fairness for all. But the last three often proved a challenge.

His ex-girlfriend Akira was right about him. She’d called him reliable, loyal to a fault, and so predictable... in other words, boring. Of course, she never really knew him. His many undercover jobs required him to blend and never shine or display his exceptional skills, investigative, soldierly, or otherwise.

No wonder she left him for a more exciting man… a wanted renegade, no less. And because Tyler still had feelings for her, he hadn’t reported her. She’d called him a hopeless romantic, and he probably was.