Protector

by Luke Norris

  He was a terrible actor. “Oh no, you don’t! Let me read you this cover letter here.” She sifted through the pages. “I will quote here the minister of defense, I cannot understate enough the necessity to advance the development of missiles for the space program, and stand here to ensure… Did I mention,” she looked up at Oliver, “I am quoting the minister of defense? And, did it also register with you that he called it a missile program? Yes, of course, it did because you planned this the whole time. He carries on here, We have good information that Shem have a similar program and are developing ballistic missiles capable of carrying a payload across Arakan… Oliver, where is Mern?” she asked rhetorically. “You remember. The engineer that you said was so critical to the success of the space program. You remember? The senior engineer from, um, where was he from? Oh, I remember. Shem! He’s not here is he?”

  “He mysteriously disappeared, and nobody has seen him for months,” Oliver replied sheepishly.

  Shael was furious, but she had to be careful what she said around these Naharanee officials. She turned to the two men. “Would you wait in the estate, please? We will join you shortly. You’ll be looked after until we arrive.” The two men smiled and left the warehouse.

  She rounded on Oliver. “You knew Mern was smuggling schematics of the rocket designs to Shem the entire time didn’t you?” she accused.

  The Doc looked from Oliver back to Shael, as realization dawned on his face.

  “I may have suspected,” Oliver conceded, “but never had proof.”

  “Enough of the act, Oliver,” Shael retorted, “you purposely made it easy for him. When you told me he was critical to the program, I never thought this was what you had in mind.” She waved the funding papers at him. “You want to create a technology race, built on the threat of a military dominance from another country.”

  “Shael, this will be good for the entire planet, it will drive technology to unimaginable heights. Remember I told you, war and economic gain are the motivators for pulling a society together to collectively create something phenomenal and groundbreaking. Stick and carrot.”

  “What?”

  “To be frank,” Oliver said, “the program was not sustainable for me. It had, at most, three months before my capital was completely dried up. By creating a technology race everyone gets behind it, and benefits…”

  “So you admit it?” she said contemptuously narrowing her eyes. “You manufactured this. You manipulated Mern, to ensure he heard and saw the right things.” She had to calm herself. She took several breaths. “This could potentially go wrong, Oliver. I just hope you know what you are doing.”

  “I have plans for collaboration with Shem,” Oliver said putting his hand on her shoulder, “which will dissolve the tension. But we need to create a sense of urgency first. It’s key! Mern is a phenomenon when it comes to innovations in rocket development. He is borderline genius, and he will put together a team in Shem that will come up with new designs and tweaks that will be good for the program in the end.”

  Doc was nodding along. He agreed? Even after Oliver planted Mern directly under him in the program. He didn’t even seem the slightest bit perturbed. Shael could see the eccentric Doc’s eyes running the scenarios in his head, and deciding Oliver’s plan was the best course of action. Well, he was basically a robot anyway.

  “These men from the government,” Shael said. “They want to see results, Oliver. They will want to take charge of the program.”

  “That’s fine. All that matters is that we get into space.”

  *

  Half a millennia ago, in the years Oliver had lived in the royal courts with Verity, Unification Day had been more of a memorial, a day of solemn remembrance for the lives lost in that final terrible battle. But the holiday had evolved over five hundred years, to something of gaiety and festivity. Oliver could feel the vibrations in the floor of the warehouse from the dancing masses in the main pavilion a hundred meters away.

  Tonight Oliver felt like the only person in all of Arakan who was not celebrating the holiday. The mood here on the grounds was extra festive after the recent successful rocket launch.

  “Is that clear, Oliver?” Zeb repeated.

  “Huh?” Oliver hardly heard what the engineer had said. He was keeping Zeb here unfairly, and he knew it. He pretended to look at the schematics. “Yes, that looks good. Thank you, Zeb. Go on, and enjoy the party.”

  The man looked visibly relieved and shuffled out without giving Oliver the opportunity to walay him further. Oliver pretended to peer at the plans in deep concentration until he was completely alone in the warehouse. The waning light outside meant it was almost dark in the building.

  Oliver moved to the door of the building that was set back from the celebrations and watched the dancing. The men wore the long yellow and maroon capes of the lowlanders. They swirled and flared wildly, blending with the women's colorful dresses. Others wore costumes of fur and hats with elaborate horns, feathers, and antlers to denote the Highland chiefs.

  He heard laughing and squeals as people spun each other round. Movements were chaotic and flighty, in contrast to the steady rhythm of the band. The melodies trailed over the heads of the dancers and eventually across the yard to where he stood, reposed against the door frame watching. Oliver was reminded of Irish folk songs, the way a soprano wind instrument carried the main tune.

  Oliver spotted Shael as a gap in the dancing throng opened up. Her slender frame and vital energy were unmistakable. She was being spun in a pirouette by a tall man, and then she sunk back into his arms as the intonation of the music gave the instruction. She laughed and gave a whoop. She wore her hair down, and the black locks splayed across her pale, delicate shoulders.

  Oliver leaned against the wooden door frame and put his hands in his pockets, watching her dizzy movements with the dance companion. It was strange, he had been in the isolation of deep space without a single human companion, and in those moments he was probably more remote than any human had been from another. And yet, here surrounded by so many people dancing and celebrating, the loneliness he felt was deep and aching.

  As Oliver watched the gaiety, the sense that he was an intruder in this place felt more present in his soul than ever. They respected Oliver, feared him, some in his inner circle even lauded him as the hero of all ages. But he was not one of them. Fate was playing a cruel joke, the irony that he was responsible for the Unification day, but could not enjoy it. The thought of walking over there now, and receiving the awkward sideward glances to their leader, or the sycophants schmoozing, or the ones who attempted to avoid him. No! It just enhanced his sense of isolation.

  Despite this he kept watching, unable to pull his eyes from Shael and the tall man she was dancing with. The man propelled and carried her through the dance routine with the confidence and ease of someone whom the motions were second nature.

  Eventually, the pair disappeared behind the swish of a maroon cape, and the gap in the mess closed upon them. Oliver searched a few moments longer, then turned away, unable to continue watching. He crossed the grounds keeping close to the research and development warehouses, not wanting some poor sod to encounter him in this foul mood, as he made his way back to his quarters.

  Once inside, he stopped in the small office and began perusing launch protocols for the next mission. It was an attempt to distract his mind, but he found himself still re-reading the first sentence after five minutes. The tension in his abdomen churned intensely. Something about the celebrations brought up prehistoric feelings Oliver had forgotten he had. Memories of Christmases in New Zealand, with people and family who now existed only in his memory, from a planet that had been ravaged over half a millennia ago. The feeling caught in Oliver’s throat. He closed his eyes tightly as he placed his hands on the desk, willing the feelings away.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been standing like that when he felt a stranger's delicate hand tenderly close over his. He latched onto its warmth and sincerity. He pl
aced his other hand on top and pressed his palm down, without knowing who the owner of the hand was. It didn’t matter, he needed it right now.

  Oliver turned and was surprised to find Shael standing there, looking up at him. She must have left the dance soon after he saw her. Her eyes were startling yellow in the light of the study, and they widened as she recognized the heartache on Oliver’s face, but she didn’t withdraw. Her expression reflected his, she looked up into his eyes and understood him. Without saying a word, or diverting her gaze, she drew his hand into her chest, as if attempting to share the burden of his loneliness. It was so earnest, so sincere. Before he knew what was happening, he felt the warmth of Shael’s sleek check against his and the heat of her breath against the nape of his neck.

  His hands seemed to move unbidden, of their own accord, to the small of her back. He was surprised to feel the muscles there were lithe and strong. She gave a small hoarse gasp as he drew her closer. She pushed her body against his. The force of her strength surprised Oliver and caused him to step back and sit on the desk behind him. As soon as his head was level with hers, it happened instinctively, their mouths joined without conscious thought. It was entwining and reckless and tender.

  “Oliver,” she breathed huskily.

  Her voice brought him temporarily back to reality and gave him check. He went to push her back, but she felt the hesitation and pressed into his chest with fresh urgency. He felt the firmness of her breasts through soft silken layers of her dress. As she began to lift the leaves of her skirts, he became aware of his own arousal and met her with matching intensity. She murmured husky noises of assent, and any last inhibitions evaporated like morning dew in the sunlight.

  24

  LIGHTS IN THE SKY

  Lenat put the water bottles on the counter. The slender girl behind the checkout didn’t react immediately. She continued to lean lazily against the back counter where the communication bands were displayed. Instead of serving him, she watched him patronizingly with raised eyebrows. He inspected the lids on each to ensure the seal had not been broken, this was crucial. Each lid was in order. Good! You couldn’t be too careful, bottled water would probably be targeted next.

  In an exaggerated motion, he lifted the bottles up and plonked them back down again. She just raised one eyebrow and smirked condescendingly at him.

  Lenat wiped sweat from his brow. It was not overly warm today, but he had a tendency to overheat in slightly stressful situations. Was she laughing at his waistline? He licked his lips nervously, tucking his shirt half in.

  “Why do you buy so much water?” she asked, still making no move to serve him. “You come in every other day and buy those bottles of Jibil spring water. Is there something wrong with your water taps?”

  Lenat reminded himself that she was speaking from naivety. He mumbled quickly, not looking her in the eye. “Since the year four seventy-two, after the Kahlro expulsion, the Naharainee government puts chemicals in the mains water supply to suppress the free-thinking populous.”

  “Ah ha. Government drugging the population,” she suppressed a laugh. “You talk funny, you know that?” She still hadn’t even made a move to serve him. Realization dawned on her face. “You’re one of them aren’t you? The conspiracy twins? Yes, I recognize you from channel seventeen.”

  She was clearly under the effects already, her sluggish demeanor was a telltale sign of the government chemicals. Her snide comments must also be a side effect. He would be sure to tell Krin about the new symptoms later when they exchanged notes.

  “We are not twins, we are friends. We have supplied well-documented evidence for our claims.”

  He pulled the change out of his pocket and placed it on the counter. She still made no move to toward him. He picked up the bottles and shuffled out of the store, listening to her snigger behind him. Such a shame, she was another victim, but the chemicals didn’t discriminate based on looks.

  He walked outside onto the pavement. A group of teenagers were playing sink ball against one of the boathouse walls on the Tashka bank. One of them kicked the ball too hard. It deflected and rolled across the street, narrowly missing a vehicle, to where he was standing. The boys gathered on the opposite side, indicating for him to kick the ball back over. He started sweating again and avoided eye contact.

  “Hey! Kick us the ball back, will ya?”

  He walked away quickly, to get further down the street. He heard their curses and saw one of them run across to retrieve the ball. He had more important things to do right now. Something had piqued his attention on the way here.

  He stopped and watched the vehicles passing, yes there was something. He counted the seconds between the vehicles. Five seconds, two vehicles, ten seconds, then three vehicles. He watched the traffic for several minutes monitoring the intervals. They were different this time. Nevertheless, there was a pattern there, he just hadn’t figured it out yet. He would also have to discuss this with Krin later and see if this was on his radar too.

  Lenat looked at his opponent in the mirror, he had slicked black hair, combed forward flat on his head. The reflection opposite him had a furrowed brow in an intimidating expression. Lenat squinted his eyes slightly and checked his reflection, yes, perfect. He wore no shirt, and his build was stocky, or big boned, yes big boned. Lenat sucked in his gut as far as it would go to emphasize his chest muscles. They weren’t so visible, but that was the light in here, kind of flattened everything.

  He held his gun up to the mirror, holding the expression. “You there!” not enough conviction, he straightened his posture. “Hey you there! You just made the biggest mistake of your life. Heya!” He kicked the air at the imaginary opponent. Guns could jam, you had to be ready with other combat techniques. His kick reached about knee height. Perfect, that would incapacitate an opponent's legs.

  The maneuver made him slightly out of breath. Understandable, it was a demanding series of lethal motions. He sipped on his homemade kiss fruit water. His was more sugary than the store-bought stuff. But he needed the extra energy for training.

  There was a knock at the door. He went to put on a shirt, but rechecked his reflection in the mirror, and decided to leave the shirt off. He sucked in his stomach then opened the door and stood there shirtless, with the expression he’d just been perfecting in the mirror. Krin’s lanky figure greeted him, he was at least a head taller than Lenat, but stick thin, making his T-shirt seem oversized. He had medium length blond hair swept to one side across his eyes. Lenat held his expression for several seconds, angling his face as he’d practiced. He wanted to gauge Krin’s reaction. He squinted his eyes slightly. Mmm, well Krin knew him so it wouldn’t have the same effect.

  “Just training,” Lenat explained.

  Krin nodded knowingly. “Readiness.”

  “Readiness,” Lenat repeated the credo.

  Krin entered Lenat’s small apartment and placed his documents on the ‘incidents’ table. He had several new incidents and sightings, by the looks of the pile. Good, he’d been vigilant. They would have a fair bit of work today. As Krin leaned over the table, Lenat jumped at Krin, latching on to his back and wrestling him, but Krin resisted. He was strong, Lenat was out of breath, he released him.

  “Readiness,” he puffed. “Good work, resisting me. Always be ready for the unexpected attack. There’s kiss fruit there if you want some.”

  Krin is becoming adept at being able to repel my surprise attacks, Lenat thought, and that’s no easy feat.

  Krin poured a tall glass of the sugary drink and sipped it through a straw. “Have you seen the new edition?” he asked Lenat.

  Of course, he’d seen it. Lenat indicated to the book on the table, ‘Tales of Quando’. On the cover was an illustration of the shirtless hero squinting and holding a gun. On the hero’s waist was the hilt of his sword with the green gem in the handle. “I’ve already studied the tactics,” Lenat said loftily, “and incorporated the new moves into my training routine.”

  They both sa
t down with their kiss fruit water and eagerly flipped through the graphic novel together, commenting on Quando and how he’d foiled the enemies attempts to kill him. They would linger on the pages with Quando’s crew mate Sadrina. The artist had taken extra care to accentuate her womanly figure. Lenat and Krin slurped their drinks through straws, staring at her with wide eyes.

  On the next page, Quando and Sadrina defeated an extraterrestrial enemy. The words appeared in the speech bubble beside the hero and his sidekick ‘Readiness’. Lenat and Krin both said the words out loud in unison, “Readiness.”

  They both stood instinctively and did some air punches in front of the mirror. After five minutes, Lenat called a break. He’d done some training before Krin had arrived already, so that’s why he was out of breath quicker. They sat back down and slurped their drinks.

  “Any new leads on Neith?” Krin asked.

  Neith, their good friend and third member of their crew, had disappeared nearly a year ago. Lenat and Krin had deduced that he had been abducted by a secret faction of the Naharainee government. He was a mathematical genius, that is why they must have taken him.

  They had gone to the authorities, but of course, they were in on it. They’d managed to brush it off under the guise that Lenat had claimed one year earlier the Naharainee president was an impostor, and the real president had died in his first few months of term, to be replaced by a lookalike actor. In his defense, it was still not disproven! Then they went further to say that he’d claimed six months before that to have claimed official sightings of the Tashka river monster. Also not yet disproved.

  The short version, he couldn’t go to the authorities, so they were forced to train on their own and be in a state of readiness for when the government came for them.

  “I’ve got some potential new leads,” Lenat said, sitting down at the incident table and pulling out the new files from the last couple of days.

  “Wait,” Krin stood up, “There is something I want to show you. I have acquired a new piece for our readiness kit.”