A woman, around Marta’s height and of similar athletic build, stepped into view. She wore a one-piece, brown and cream, two-toned uniform. Slender white armour followed the contour of her shoulders and encircled her waist. A second narrow band arched from the waistband at the back, tracking up her spine and over her head, resting an inch from her face, protecting her nose and chin. Her hair was raven black, her skin fair and her grey eyes full of fire. Laurel had seen paintings of Celtic warriors during her ancient history studies. This woman would have fitted right in.
Harry didn’t look at the woman as he introduced her. “Commander Cere is our most experienced combat and weapons trainer. She is from Norio; her people have a warring and violent history, long since abandoned, fortunately. They were fierce warriors, and some keep up the skills as a tribute to their forebears. Prior to the war, Commander Cere worked with any Independent systems which required League assistance. She is highly skilled in weaponry and will instruct you in hand to hand combat and weapon techniques.”
“Why can’t we just identify them and then you lot go in and fight?” Helen suggested, a note of hopefulness in her voice.
“You will provide valuable intelligence, Helen,” Harry responded. “If the town or prefecture is under siege, we will need you on the front line. If the enemy has yet to invade, we’ll set up a command post.”
“We need to know something about the culture of the Semevalians,” Marta said, frowning. “The environment on their planet. So far, you’ve given us almost no background, even about the kind of terrain we’re expected to fight on. We don’t even know how Semevalian’s dress.”
“Ah,” Harry said, a half-smile creasing his cheek. “I can answer that in part. We have two Semevalian’s here on the asteroid. I have invited them to meet you,” and so saying, he contacted Asde over his d-com.
Asde escorted two individuals into the chamber, both covered head to foot in shimmering purple. A caul covered their heads, falling to just above the ankles. The front hem of the caul appeared stiffened or wired to facilitate ease of walking. Both figures were barefoot and their toes and ankles heavily adorned. Without even seeing their faces, Laurel immediately perceived the distinction between them and the Norion. All three were human, with nothing to distinguish them physically, apart from their size and dress. Laurel saw it, and Helen gasped as the realisation dawned. Marta saw it too, but Eli just stared.
He waggled a finger between the Semevalian’s and Cere, “You two and her; you’re different,”
The Semevalians pressed their palms together and bowed a greeting. The smaller Semevalian bent and lifted the hem of the garment, rapidly and deftly folding the swathes of fabric, finally settling the stiffened segment across her head, the draping fabric framing a fair skinned, feminine, delicate and trusting face. Laurel saw right into her mind; a gentle place, free from guile, malice or cruelty. The woman, naked from the hips upwards, wore a draping skirt of the same shimmering purple, finishing above her ankles. She didn’t speak, her delicate mouth curled in a smile.
Helen shifted a little uncomfortably, edging closer to Chloe as if to shield her from the woman’s near nakedness. Chloe, for her part, seemed to take it in her stride.
The second, taller Semevalian, with a mind similarly free from the constraints of malice, also raised the coverings with the same expert movements, resting the stiffened hem on his head. He wore long, sheer baggy trousers and was likewise naked from the hips upwards, though a leather shoulder girdle and armband made a striking feature. As Laurel studied him, she perceived these adornments as a representation of his family honour. The man dipped his head in acknowledgement, understanding the thought she inadvertently projected.
The woman spoke to them directly, and Harry translated. “Rissa and her partner, Ash, welcome you. They understand the channels of your arrival here, and you have the gratitude of their people. They speak Seera fluently, but to acknowledge you directly in the language of another is considered an insult.”
The four women and Xavier smiled a greeting, but Eli had the look of a man in the throes of an epiphany. Helen poked Eli in the arm, positive he was staring at the woman’s breasts, but that wasn’t it.
“That tall lady, Cere, is a half-soul, am I right?” he said to no-one in particular. “And these other people are quarter-souls? I can’t see the difference, but I know it’s there.”
And it was. Cere had the luminescence under her collarbone, on the Semevalians it was on the opposite side, and closer to the heart.
“I had a thought about the girdle the partner was wearing,” Laurel said, trying to divert attention from Eli’s rude pointing.
Harry turned to Ash, who nodded. “He understood you, Laurel.”
Harry activated his d-com to show them a map of what appeared to be the northern hemisphere of a planet. “Semevale 8 has large uninhabited areas between its prefectures and cities,” he said. “Before invading a prefecture or city, the enemy drops a scout team—they refer to themselves as first column—some distance from the target. Adopting a combination of stealth and disguise, they enter the prefecture, look for a building that will serve as a local command base, and map out vulnerable areas. The full-scale invasion follows within days.”
Eli shook his head. “This approach makes no sense. Don’t they have the capability of firing from orbit? Why go to so much trouble?”
“That’s a good question, Eli,” Harry’s jaw tightened. “One we have asked ourselves. They fire on the populated areas from a low orbit, but only when we engage them. They hit us with everything they’ve got when we fight back, but if we do nothing, they still slaughter and exploit the people.”
“Sounds like a grievance.” Xavier’s statement was simple and his voice mild, but his words contained power and knowledge, shifting attention away from Harry. Xavier’s eyes held Laurel’s, and for a moment, the League’s involvement lost its innocence.
Harry felt the weight of Xavier’s words and wondered if his most senior recruit sensed something more from the Semevalians.
“We haven’t identified a grievance, Xavier,” Harry frowned, “but you’re right, they behave as if they’re punishing us. Repelling them is more desirable than facing them. If we’re confident the city is clear, we can set up a boundary, install a garrison and high-level surveillance. These measures do affect the day-to-day activities of the townspeople, but it’s preferable to loss of life.”
“Why don’t you put this security around every town?”
“Semevale 8 has thousands of towns, cities and prefectures, Helen, and a security perimeter needs troops to keep it operational. Our supply of armed forces is not limitless, so we have to prove there is a threat before we can take action. If we can throw the enemy off, we may be able to take back the towns they occupy. Many communities have fled to the mountains, but the enemy often manages to locate and massacre them. But,” Harry took a deep breath, “up till now, they have had a distinct edge.”
“And that is?” Laurel prompted.
“The personal stealth. Many of them wear it.”
Laurel saw how invisibility would be a huge advantage. “Why is it you can’t modify the stealth you use on the ships, even up the score?”
“We seized this technology, Laurel,” Harry explained, “but the compounds they use aren’t found anywhere in League space. We know only that the belts provide a short-wave field emission we can’t reproduce. As often as practical, we remove the stealth belts from the dead. We can operate them, but only in a limited capacity; the effect only lasting seventeen minutes. My point is; we can’t see the enemy in stealth, but you can.”
“How?” Helen extended her hand to Harry. “If they’re invisible, how?”
“You can see Cere, can’t you?” Harry couldn’t stop a note of smugness creeping into his voice.
To the whole souls, Cere was as solid as Harry.
Chloe reached out to touch her. “That’s amazing,” she stepped back and looked at the others, her face a portra
it of wonderment. “Amazing!”
And just at that moment, parts of Cere’s body began to shimmer and pixelate as she rematerialized. She allowed the whole souls a moment to study the armour.
“Rissa and Ash are going to instruct you in their cultural practices, their customs and their society,” Harry recalled their attention. “It won’t be fully comprehensive, but it will give you an insight. It will also help you to understand the devastating effects of the war on their people.” Harry invited them to be seated. There were no chairs; only boxes and equipment littered about. Helen wriggled after only a few moments.
“I need a cushion,” she whispered to Laurel.
“Well, you’ll have to manage. Same as the rest of us.”
Rissa remained standing. Smiling, she took in each of them and in turn, they smiled back as she spoke in Seera. Her voice gentle, humble. “We are pleased to be here; to share with you our customs and our culture…”
Rissa spoke for a long while, her discourse on the history of her civilisation mesmerising. Laurel hung onto every word; even Helen was enchanted, now and then asking sensible questions about the weather and farming. Chloe, equally fascinated, smiled throughout. Rissa spoke of a culture that had remained unchanged for centuries, of the advent of the League which the Semevalian’s believe was a blessing from the Gods. She told the whole souls of their religious practices; the peacefulness of their lives; their precious children, and the cooperation of each separate prefecture in working towards the common good.
When she finished, Ash stood and offered Rissa his seat, as they moved past each other, there was a deliberate touching of hands; Laurel thought it a beautiful gesture.
Ash’s voice was a light baritone, falling easily on the ear even though his words held depth and solemnity as he described the advent of the war; his people’s powerlessness when confronted by a faceless enemy and their fear when even the League were unable to protect the people. Ash told them Semevale had taken up arms in the distant past against marauders from the far reaches of the independent systems, but now their technology was limited, even though Semevale counted many scientists and medical specialists among their number. Their peaceful existence did not provide a background of weapon-making. He told them that only the Prefects, their leaders, knew of the whole souls brought in by the League, for fear of alerting the enemy.
When he finished speaking, Laurel found she had questions; they all had questions, which Ash and Rissa answered with grace and patience. Laurel felt enlightened. Marta was right. They had no background, not really, and this was exactly what they needed, and Laurel was very glad to have heard it from the Semevalians themselves. The conversation went on for quite some time, Cere also joined in with answering questions about Norio, but she was clearly not a woman of many words and was less forthcoming about her homeworld than Ash and Rissa were about theirs, allowing Harry to add in a few facts of his own.
Xavier seemed to very much enjoy the proceedings, but after a while, he seemed distracted. Laurel put her arm around him. “What is it, Xavier?”
“I’m not sure. I felt something when we first got here, but I found all this so interesting, I didn’t pay it too much mind. I used to potter around my house and garden and village and largely ignore my sensitivity. I did use it when the occasion arose, but right now, the hairs are up on the back of my neck.”
“Are we in danger here?”
Xavier rolled his eyes but managed a smile. “You don’t need to be an empath to know that, Laurel. No, there’s something closer. Outside my knowledge.”
Cere and Asde led them through a passageway, leaving Harry with Ash and Rissa. A sudden smile from Cere softened her “warriorlike” features.
“I’m sorry to rush you,” she spoke as they walked, making way for passing personnel and a few Mer-like robots in the narrow passage. “But I’m sure you understand the gravity of our current situation. We can’t give you much time to rest, I’m afraid, we’ll drop your things and head straight to the training room. As Commander Harry said, I will oversee your training in preparation for your assignment to Semevale 8.”
Laurel groaned inwardly. A shower and a sleep would have been perfect right about now.
“Have you been here before, Asde?” Chloe asked.
“Many times. But by all accounts, your arrival has been the talk of the mess since the staff learned you were to come here for training.”
Cere grinned. “Don’t worry; everyone has strict instructions not to harangue the League’s ‘secret weapon’.”
The use of that phrase as a description bothered Laurel, but not as much as the phrase, “training room” bothered Helen. For her, that translated to “gym”.
The new quarters directly opposed those on the consular ship in terms of luxury. The room, cramped and lacking any signs of comfort, was sparsely furnished and very cold. A basic metallic table and half a dozen mismatched seats served as a focal point. Against the rugged stone wall, devoid of any decoration to soften its roughness, six narrow berths were squeezed, like bunks, two-high. Exposed portable lighting served as illumination, and a water dispenser was perched precariously on a too small ledge in an alcove. The base sported an underground heating system, but it did little to raise the temperature of the room.
Cere only allowed them a cursory glance around their new accommodation before she hastened them away to begin their training. Helen echoed Laurel’s thoughts about wanting a shower and a nap after an entire day stuck in the axispods, but when Cere overheard, she merely fixed Helen with a gaze that would wither even the most determined complainer. It looked as if Cere had used up her niceness allowance for the day.
The training room, another cavern hewn from rock, looked little different to the passageway, their quarters and the landing area. The only difference was the thick mats on the floor and the grey, faceless rubbery-looking androids attached to the wall. Harry met them there.
“Marta, Helen and Laurel. Stay here with Cere. Xavier, Chloe and Eli; come with me.”
Xavier and Eli made to follow him, but Chloe hesitated. Laurel saw why in a second.
“We’ve always done things as a group, Harry,” she said. “Why are we being separated?”
“I’m sorry,” Harry realised his insensitivity. “I’m used to giving orders without having to explain myself. Chloe and Eli, as you are being inducted into the aerial fleet, we need to get you more familiar with the scouts and have you undergo some battle simulations. Xavier, I would like you to meet with the planetary scientists and tacticians based here, gain some insight into the habits of the enemy. Marta, Helen and Laurel, Cere will continue with basic fitness and familiarise you with what we know about the enemy. Chloe and Eli will join you later.”
From the corner of her eye, Laurel saw Asde jogging over. If he was to go along as well, it might help Chloe’s confidence, then, as if she had projected that thought to Harry, Harry murmured to Asde, who nodded in acknowledgement.
“Asde will accompany Chloe and Eli back to the landing area,” Harry said, confident now all concerns were met. “Xavier? You’re with me.”
Cere, now divested of the armour, lost no time disclosing the fundamentals of hand to hand combat. She gave a few demonstrations with a male crewmember, who spent much of the time wrapped around Cere’s legs or flat down on his face on the floor. This was a far cry from the Kung Fu class Helen took after being mugged, and a few steps up from the expectations of Marta’s Tae Kwon Do instructor back in Bonn. This class, even the basics, meant business. And when the demonstration concluded, the instruction began without delay. Cere took Helen first. Helen would have preferred to go last, but the Celtic warrior lookalike didn’t ask for volunteers. Helen got slapped often and slammed to the ground even more. Although she got up each time, instead of moving in on the attack, she either tried to escape or covered her head in defence. Laurel saw that Cere was holding back, and eventually, called a halt, making no criticism of Helen’s performance.
Helen wiped
tears away with the back of her hand. “Why don’t we just use weapons?”
“You need to increase agility,” Cere said, picking up Helen’s arm and dangling it. “You are small and light; that will work in your favour. Combat doesn’t only mean facing the foe; it often means avoiding them to gain an advantage. Strength, resilience and awareness and discipline of your body can be a tactical asset on the ground. This enemy is known to use physical force to subdue before killing.”
“Oh, God,” Helen scrunched up her face and placed her head in her hands. But Cere was indifferent. She took Marta next, ignoring Helen’s whimpering.
Cere faced them tirelessly, many times, in turn. They each took care to obey her shouted instructions strictly, but even so, Helen got soundly beaten. Marta held her own, and Laurel found herself receptive to Cere, reading her intentions. Later, Cere activated one of the rubber-faced combat training androids into a slow-motion mode, using Laurel to demonstrate the physiology of the fight. During the simulation, Laurel felt something open inside her head, and she asked Cere to step up the pace of the android’s assault mode. Marta and Helen applauded when she finished a clear victor.
“Well done! What happened?” Marta hugged her.
“I’m not sure. Something in my brain just popped open, an eye, or a…a well, or something. After that, I was able to anticipate the android. Didn’t you feel it too?”
Helen and Marta shook their heads, agreeing they’d felt nothing like that.
Marta was a regular gym user in her old life, and her body showed the benefits. She was also tall and athletic, taller even than the android, and she had many successes against it. Helen fared less well, and despite her improved stamina, completed the session bruised and battered. She pulled a face when Cere promised her another round.
The Soul Monger Page 15
