Page 41 of Dark Shaman: Love Found (The Children Of The Gods #99)

NAVUH

N avuh stood at his second-floor office window, hands clasped behind his back, surveying his domain with the satisfaction of a leader who'd built an empire and became the most dangerous male on Earth.

He'd had his father's legacy to build upon, but Mortdh's ambitions had been very different from Navuh's. He had been influenced by the rebel gods and their do-good mentality, but to his credit, he had believed that his approach to managing humans was better.

He'd had the right idea, but he hadn't taken it far enough.

Humans were like cattle. Mortdh had thought to be their shepherd, while Navuh thought of them as nothing more than slaves. That was what they had been created to be, and that was the only thing they were suitable for.

At their core, they were barbarians and left to their own devices they would annihilate each other. At least under his rule, they would serve a purpose other than filling graveyards with their worthless bones.

The problem was that humans multiplied like rabbits, and even though they were pathetically weak as individuals, they were formidable in numbers.

Even with his clever machinations, compulsion, and thousands of immortal warriors, he still couldn't achieve world domination. But the future looked bright thanks to his latest masterpiece move.

The enhanced soldiers were a leap in the evolution of the species. Through his vision and Zhao's know-how, they'd created the next step in immortal development. Stronger, faster, more resilient than anything that had come before them.

They were gods among immortals, titans among men.

Navuh was contemplating taking the enhancement drugs himself.

The temptation was almost overwhelming. To feel that power coursing through his veins, to transcend even his current magnificent state, would be glorious. The only thing holding him back from doing that was his fear for Areana.

The drugs enhanced natural tendencies, like aggression and dominance, which Navuh had in abundance and already struggled to control within himself around Areana.

She brought out the best in him, but the best of him was still dangerous.

He couldn't risk the drugs amplifying his possessive nature, his need for control, and his capacity for violence. Not if that meant he might hurt her.

He needed to discuss it with Zhao. Perhaps he could start on the lowest dosage and see how it affected him. He was in no rush to become a super immortal, and he could take a more gradual approach than the rapid improvement the doctor was achieving with the enhanced soldiers.

Returning to his desk, Navuh pressed the buzzer for his chief of security.

"My lord?" Hakum answered.

He was one of Navuh's younger adopted sons and was proving to be good at his job. Usually, that meant transfer to a different position because Navuh didn't like any of his so-called sons getting too comfortable in their jobs. Still, he enjoyed Hakum's quiet and respectful demeanor.

"Have Dr. Zhao brought to me. I want to talk to him right away."

"Yes, sir."

Navuh turned to his computer screen and pulled up the latest reports from the enhancement program. Ninety-seven subjects remained on the island, and many more were spread across several countries.

His private army within an army.

Perhaps he should make them his honor guard. But first, they needed to prove themselves. They were too volatile, too unpredictable, and too difficult to control. Until the glitches were fixed, he was going to keep them at arm's length.

When twenty minutes passed and there was still no sign of Zhao, Navuh's patience ran out. The lab wasn't far enough to justify the tardiness.

The scientist might be a drunk and a coward, but he wasn't stupid enough to ignore a direct summons or drag his feet about it.

Navuh pressed the intercom button. "Hakum, where is Zhao?"

"The guards are having difficulty reaching him, sir. He is sealed in his laboratory and isn't answering the intercom. They assume that he is in the bathroom and are waiting for him to come out."

It was ridiculous that the scientist was hiding in the lab like a scared rabbit and sleeping on a cot when he had been given the presidential suite in the hotel. But the human was terrified of his own creations and only felt safe barricading himself behind steel and concrete.

"He's probably passed out drunk," Navuh said. "The human's liver must be more resilient than his spine."

When he pulled up the laboratory's surveillance feed on his monitor, the cameras showed him exactly what he'd expected. Zhao was sprawled on his cot, fully clothed, an empty vodka bottle on the floor beside him. The scientist's face was slack in what appeared to be deep, alcohol-induced sleep .

"What a waste. Even a brilliant human is still just a human. Pathetic." Navuh switched to a different program to override the laboratory locks.

His fingers flying across the keyboard, he entered his master override codes. Every lock on the island answered to him, every security measure bent to his will. The laboratory door's status changed from sealed to open on his screen.

"I opened the door from here. Tell them to get in, get Zhao, and dunk his head in a sink full of water to sober him up. Then bring him over here."

"Yes, sir," Hakum said. "I'll relay your instructions."

Navuh returned to the camera surveillance feed and watched two guards enter the laboratory. They walked over to Zhao's cot, and one of them reached down to shake Zhao.

The guard was blocking Navuh's view of the scientist, but the way the guard's shoulders stiffened and his hand jerked indicated that not all was well with Zhao.

"He's dead," the guard said. "He's not breathing, and I don't hear a heartbeat."

The words hung in the air like a challenge to reality. "What's going on?" Navuh said through the surveillance equipment in the lab.

The guard turned to look at the camera. "He's cold, my lord. He must have been dead for hours."

"Foul play?" Navuh asked, although it wasn't likely since Zhao had locked himself in the lab .

"There are no visible wounds, and no blood. It looks like he just died." The guard swallowed. "It happens to humans when they are under stress. They are like mice. Their little hearts can't take it."

Navuh leaned forward, studying the monitor more intently. Zhao hadn't moved from the position he'd seen him in earlier. But now, knowing the man was dead, the stillness took on a different quality. Not the slack looseness of sleep, but the rigid finality of death.

"Don't touch anything else," Navuh ordered. "I'm reviewing the security footage."

His fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up the laboratory's surveillance history. He scrolled back through the night in ten times the speed, watching Zhao's final hours in reverse. The scientist was lying down, drinking, working at his computer, drinking more, pacing, drinking again.

Navuh reversed the playback, watching it forward now at an even faster speed. Zhao had woken up around midnight and had gone to his computer and worked for about two hours, fingers flying across the keyboard with desperate energy while sipping on the vodka straight from the bottle.

At 2:06 a.m., Zhao had stopped typing. He'd stared at his screen for a long moment, then saved whatever he was working on.

He'd stood, swayed slightly, and walked to his cot with the careful precision of the very drunk.

He'd collapsed onto it fully-clothed, the vodka bottle still clutched in his hand .

At 4:15 a.m., Zhao had stirred. He'd sat up, looked around as if confused, then lifted the vodka bottle to his lips. But instead of drinking, he'd set it on the floor and lain back down.

He hadn't moved again.

"Heart attack?" Navuh mused aloud. "Or alcohol poisoning?"

It hadn't looked like suicide, but it was a possibility.

It was also a significant blow to his program. Hopefully, Zhao had maintained good notes of the compounds he'd used and the procedures he'd implemented so another scientist could take over for him.

The problem was finding one of Zhao's caliber and abducting him in time before the enhancement program went up in smoke. They needed constant upkeep and dose adjustments. How the hell was he going to keep them from losing their damn minds until he got someone to replace Zhao?

"Take the body to the clinic," he ordered. "I want the doctors to determine the cause of death, time of death, and any unusual substances in his system."

"Yes, my lord."

As the guards carried Zhao's body out, Navuh's attention turned to the scientist's computer. Whatever Zhao had been working on so desperately in his final hours might provide answers.

He accessed the laboratory's systems remotely, navigating to Zhao's files. Most were encrypted, but Navuh had backdoor access to everything on the island. No one kept secrets from him. The encryption parted before his master codes like curtains before a king.

What he found made his blood run cold.

File after file of notes about the enhanced soldiers.

Not the official reports Zhao had submitted for his review, but private observations, fears, and warnings.

The enhanced soldiers were organizing themselves.

They'd developed their own communication system.

They were showing increasing resistance to authority and growing contempt for their inferior commanders and brothers.

And then, in a file dated just hours before his death, was Zhao's final warning.

They're going to rebel. Not tomorrow, not next week, but soon. I've seen it in their eyes, heard it in their coded messages. They think they're gods, and gods don't serve mortals or immortals. I've created monsters that will devour us all.

I've developed a neurotoxin that might stop them, but I'll never get the chance to deploy it. They know. Somehow, they know what I've been working on. One of them told me yesterday that I would be the first to die when the revolution came. He smiled when he said it.

I won't give them the satisfaction .

Navuh sat back, understanding flooding through him. Zhao hadn't died of natural causes or alcohol poisoning. He'd chosen his own death rather than face what his creations would do to him.

"Coward," Navuh spat, but his mind was already racing ahead.

The scientist had been many things, but he was rarely wrong about his work, and he believed that the enhanced ones were planning a rebellion—ninety-seven of them against his thousands of regular troops. The numbers were overwhelmingly in his favor, but numbers didn't tell the whole story.

He needed to act immediately.

"Hakum," he barked into the comm. "Order the immediate detention of all the enhanced soldiers. I don't want more than three of them in one location."

"My lord?"

"Now, Hakum. Send the order."

"Yes, my lord."

Navuh pulled up the deployment screens, watching his order being followed.

The enhanced soldiers were concentrated in three main barracks, but they were integrated with regular units.

It had seemed logical at the time to let them train with their inferior brothers and raise the overall combat effectiveness of his forces.

Now it seemed like a mistake .

A report flashed on his screen from the eastern barracks: COMMANDER DOWN. ENHANCED SOLDIERS ARE REBELLING.

Before Navuh could respond, another alert sounded: NORTHERN BARRACKS UNDER ATTACK.

Then another: CENTRAL GARRISON—ENHANCED SOLDIERS HAVE KILLED COMMANDERS.

"No," Navuh breathed, watching Zhao's worst fears materialize on the screens before him.

The door to his office burst open. Hakum stood there, his face pale. "My lord, the enhanced ones?—"

"I know." Navuh's fingers flew across the control panels. "Initiate island-wide lockdown. All barracks sealed, all sectors isolated."

Red lights began flashing throughout the compound as klaxons wailed. The island's sophisticated security system, designed to repel external threats, was now being turned inward to contain an internal one.

Navuh activated the island-wide communication system. His voice would reach every corner of his domain through the speakers installed in every building, every corridor, every training field.

"All enhanced soldiers, stand down immediately." He pushed his compulsion power into the words. "Return to your barracks and await further orders."

He watched the screens, waiting for the telltale signs of compliance—soldiers stopping mid-action, confusion replacing aggression as his will overwrote their own.

Nothing happened.

The enhanced soldiers continued their attacks, and from the looks of it, they weren't just rebelling; they were executing a carefully planned operation.

"Hakum," Navuh said, his voice deadly calm. "Mobilize all regular forces. Full combat deployment."

"Yes, sir."

Navuh returned to his screens, watching his empire convulse as the enhanced soldiers, his greatest achievement, became his greatest threat.

Zhao had been right about one thing: they truly thought themselves gods.