CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Fragg’s senses slowly returned to him as he blinked open his eyes. He was in a cold, dark room, lying on a bed of sorts, and his whole body ached. His suit was rumpled and battered, and only added to his considerable pain.
He blinked in the darkness. What was he doing here? He’d been riding the airship to Mantin City, and then he’d been taking to King Glok, and then the BigBros were dragging him away –
To the detention area. Oh, that was it. He’d been tortured.
The Glukkon businessman clenched his fists angrily. He’d come here to talk to his king about leading an army, and instead of granting him the good request, Glok had tortured him about the location of the Meech beetles, just to make extra profit out of Fragg!
He didn’t like to be used that way. Abe was out there somewhere, probably tailing the line of Sligs that were bringing the Mudokon slaves here to Mantin City, probably waiting for his chance to rescue them. If Abe rescued those slaves, Fragg would have nothing to barter for his life with, and Glok might go so far as to execute him.
Fragg cursed Glok under his breath. He had always assumed the Glukkon king was some sort of eccentric fellow simply because he didn’t smoke cigars, but he had found out – at his own cost – that Glok was a scheming, selfish Glukkon with plans to take out everyone who threatened his power. That was quite disturbing.
The room’s lights came on, and Fragg could suddenly see everything. Wincing at the sudden illumination, he glanced about the small room. His bed appeared to be the only piece of furniture, surrounded by four thick metal walls with a large grate at the other side, which appeared to be the only way in or out.
He could see two BigBro Sligs standing just outside. Maybe they could tell him what was going on. “Hey, you!” he grunted. “Where am I?”
The grate hissed open, and a familiar figure stepped inside the room. “I can tell you well enough,” King Glok chuckled. “No need to bother your guards: you’re in a cell.”
Fragg gritted his teeth. “On what charges?”
Glok shrugged, a difficult thing to do since he was standing on his hands. “Oh, there are no official charges. I simply thought it might be a good place for you to recuperate after the interrogation session.”
“I suppose you know where to find the Meeches now,” Fragg grunted. “If I could just get a gun, I would kill –”
“You really don’t want to finish that sentence,” Glok admonished. “If you did, then I would have to execute you on sufficient charges of high treason.”
Fragg sat up straight, gritting his teeth. This king, brilliant and twisted as he was, could be incredibly annoying with the way he seemed to have it all under control.
“As for your inquiry,” the king went on coolly, “you proved quite a tough nut to crack. In fact, we couldn’t get you to talk about where the Meeches are hiding.”
Fragg felt his hopes soar, but he didn’t reveal his emotion on his face. “So you don’t know where the Meeches are,” he chuckled.
Glok shook his head. “Oh, we do know. Perhaps you weren’t willing to talk to us about them…but your Vykker assistant, Humphrey the Third, was all too eager to tell us where to find them, once we put a gun to his head.”
Fragg silently cursed Humphrey.
Glok stepped to one side. “As of now, you’re free to go after Abe,” he said. “I have your BigBro army assembled just outside Gate 4. If you feel you are ready to lead, you may do so.”
Fragg didn’t answer. Glaring daggers at the Glukkon king, he rolled himself out of bed and started for the door. Glok was proving to be a worthy obstacle in Fragg’s path to money, and Fragg hated obstacles.
In fact, he destroyed all obstacles in his path.
Fragg didn’t turn to look back at Glok as he exited his cell. Ever since he’d arrived in Mantin City, the king had been manipulating him about, taking everything that had made him successful. Fragg intended to change all of that…as soon as he’d tracked down and killed Abe.
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