by Ehsan Ahmad
“No!” yelled Cerrin. “Here!”
The damareus looked down at the water once more, then settled onto its haunches, ready to leap.
Cerrin had just begun to turn when the beam of blue light struck the damareus behind the neck. The entire body shook, dislodging clumps of mud and grass from the bank. Then the second shot hit. Suddenly still, the creature slid into the water, flesh smoking.
Marl lowered his weapon and leaped down to the ground.
After a victorious cry, the Count swam back across the river. Cerrin was giving serious thought to making a try for the other side when several more figures appeared. The guards from the clearing joined Marl at the bank; one of them already aiming his gun at her.
Even though it was the bodyguard who had saved them, Cerrin thanked Ikala as she swam back, staying well away from the dead damareus. She was sure it was the god of battle that helped her hold her nerve and think clearly.
Once on the bank, Talazeer seemed quite full of himself, apparently berating the guards for not arriving in time. When he looked at the huge, dead creature, a manic grin spread across his face.
Once she could feel solid ground underneath, Cerrin pulled herself up through the mud toward the bank. The guards ignored her, of course, but she was surprised when a large gray hand gripped her wrist and helped her up out of the water.
Talazeer kept hold of her and held her gaze for a long moment. When he realized the others were watching, he let go.
Vellerik looked on as Triantaa and the others checked the combat shells. The cleaning drones had been working on them for hours, but the clinging mud seemed to get everywhere. He’d also insisted the troops inspect all the armament and other systems by hand; it wasn’t strictly necessary but constituted another useful method of keeping them busy.
The half of the squad that had remained aboard the Galtaryax clearly expected some rather more exciting tales. Dekkiran and the others made little attempt to hide their disappointment at the low body count. Vellerik had even heard the trooper bemoaning his lack of trophies but left it to Triantaa to shut him up. He couldn’t have cared less about the opinions of men half his age who knew nothing of real fighting, real war.
Triantaa walked over to him, holding a handful of small metal cubes. “Imager data clips showing the operation, sir. Remember Count Talazeer wanted them?”
Just as Vellerik nodded, his com-cell buzzed.
“Yes?”
“It’s Danysaan. Meet me in bay three. The Count’s shuttle has just returned. Apparently, there was some kind of incident.”
“Incident?”
“We lost two men.”
“On my way.”
“Captain?” Danysaan offered him the data clips.
“Not now.” Vellerik lowered his voice. “In fact, only if he asks for them.” He pointed at the troops. “And make sure they don’t go mouthing off in the canteen. If Dekkiran or any of the others has a problem with my decision-making, they can take it up with me.”
“There won’t be any problems, sir.”
Vellerik marched out of bay two, along the adjoining corridor and into three. The shuttle ramp was already down, and Danysaan was waiting at the bottom of it. One technician came off first with their equipment, then two more leading a wheeled trolley upon which was a body covered by a sheet. With them was another tech whose arm had been bandaged and strapped. His cheek was heavily bruised.
“Who are they?” asked Vellerik as the trolleys passed.
“Levess and Staalter, from Mine Three. Governor Yeterris thought it best that they be brought straight here.”
“What happened?”
“I—”
Danysaan was halted by the sight of Count Talazeer yelling at a trio of crewmen who were inspecting the shuttle’s hull. He beckoned for them to join him inside, and a minute later another larger trolley appeared. It needed the three men and two more of the shuttle’s crew to manhandle it down the ramp. Lying on top was the carcass of a huge creature with several dark wounds upon its body.
Striding along behind it were Count Talazeer and Marl. When the trolley came to a stop, one of the techs pointed at the carcass’s stomach: some malodorous bodily fluid was leaking onto the floor. The Count waved a dismissive hand at him and greeted Danysaan and Vellerik.
He pointed at the two dead guards and shook his head. “Terrible shame. Unfortunately, both men let themselves down. If it hadn’t been for Marl and that local guide, I might not be standing here now.” He turned toward the creature. “Incredible, isn’t it? Called a damareus. I have never witnessed such a combination of speed and power. Danysaan, I would like to have it frozen. When I return home, I will have it displayed.”
Vellerik peered at the wounds upon the creature’s neck, then the old-fashioned hunting gun hanging from the Count’s shoulder.
“You are right, Captain,” said Talazeer. “Unfortunately, it was not I who administered the fatal shot. Good old Marl—always around when you need him. Perhaps it takes one beast to kill another.”
The Drellen looked impassively at the dead creature. Vellerik noted the dirt upon his cloak and the mud on his clawed feet.
“Well, Danysaan, hadn’t you better get moving? We’re going to need a very large container to accommodate this.” Talazeer looked down at his hands. “And I must go and get myself cleaned up at once. Oh, Vellerik—how did you fare at Mine Ten? I trust our spear-wielding friends won’t be troubling us again?”
“Hopefully not, sir.”
“Please remember to pass on the data clips. It’s a shame I didn’t think to have an imager to capture this beast in motion. Do you know how we got away? The native guided me to the river. It seems that these damareus don’t like water. I must admit she handled herself very well. Name’s Cerrin. Very tall and athletic. Rather impressive.”
The Count was all set to leave when Vellerik spoke.
“What about them?” He nodded at the dead guards. “What happened?”
Talazeer grimaced. “As I said, they did not perform well.”
“They both had their rifles?”
“They did. And they both got shots away, but the creature was too strong and fast.”
“It must have gotten close to be able to kill them. Why wasn’t it taken down at range?”
Talazeer paused for a moment, then looked at Danysaan. “Don’t the guards come under your jurisdiction, Administrator?”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“As I thought. It is most kind of you to take an interest, Captain, but it’s really nothing you need concern yourself with.”
“Sir, I am also concerned about your safety,” lied Vellerik, who could not believe two men had lost their lives for Talazeer’s trophy. “If I may say so, this seems like an unnecessary risk.”
“Life is risk, isn’t that what they say?” The Count was already on his way out. “And Captain, please don’t forget those data clips.”
8
The snow whipped past them, blasted this way and that by the unpredictable winds that pummeled the walkway. Occasionally the metal squeaked and groaned, as if protesting at the assault.
Sonus kept his hands inside his overalls and watched his friend. Karas gripped the rail tight as he stared out at the snow. He had waited for Sonus there as the others descended; it was the first time they had met for several days. Three weeks had passed since their discussion in the caverns. Qari was struggling to get through each day, and Karas looked terrible, as if he’d neither eaten nor slept. Sonus spent every hour expecting to hear the worst. He could not imagine what they were going through.
Karas—who had not yet spoken—turned around. “We can’t keep it. You will help?”
“If that is what you both want.”
“It’s for the best.”
“Qari agrees?”
Karas gritted his teeth. “We… should have done it sooner. She says she can feel it moving now. I will persuade her. I must. Ther
e is no other way.”
Sonus had not yet approached Kadessis. The atmosphere in Mine Three since Tanus’s death had been as tense as he’d known it: workers fearful, the Vitaari on edge. But things were beginning to settle down, and with the increased workload, machines were break-ing down more often. He saw Kadessis almost every day.
And then there were the freighters, now landing even more regularly to collect the increased yield of terodite and aronium. Sonus had managed to strike up two conversations with one of the Lovirr pilots, a wary but polite fellow named Toroda. Before the invasion, he had travelled widely as a merchant and spoke passable Palanian.
“There might be.”
“What?”
“There might be another way. If we could somehow protect Qari until the child is born, we might be able to get it out of here.”
“Protect her? How?”
“I’m not sure yet. I don’t want to say I can do it because I don’t know. But there might be a chance.”
“You have a way out, Sonus?”
“For you two, no. But for a little one who they never knew was here…”
Karas considered this for some time. “I cannot give her false hope.”
“Do not. The chances are slim. But allow me a few more days. I will know by then. If not, I will help you do as you asked.”
“I told her—it needn’t be the end. We can try again. Later. After.”
Sonus wasn’t exactly sure how the chemical concoction might work, but he feared the damage to Qari’s insides might be permanent.
“And if it comes to that—will she do it?”
Karas looked away for a moment. “I will make her. Even if she hates me for it. I cannot lose her, Sonus. I will not.”
“Just give me those few days.”
“Very well. I thank you, my friend.”
“Shall we go down?”
Karas nodded but stopped after a few steps. “Someone said something today—during morning break. For three thousand years, we Palanians prayed and gave offerings to the Maker. I myself would go with my mother to the old square and place offerings at the base of the pyramid mosaic. She would whisper prayers for every member of the family, alive or dead.” Karas wiped his face. “But in the last century many of us gave up those beliefs. We looked to science and government and progress to improve our lives. We abandoned the Maker.” Karas looked out again at the snow and the darkness. “I know you do not believe in such things, but it seems to me that he has now abandoned us.”
It took Sonus two days to find an opportunity to talk to Kadessis alone. The Vitaari needed his help with the conveyor rail, one section of which was becoming unstable due to overuse. Their technicians had worked out a plan to shore up the mountings, but it was Sonus and his crew who completed the labor, and in very good time. Kadessis actually thanked him, remarking that his efforts would please the governor. Sonus made sure that he was still around when the administrator later left the tower heading for his own quarters. The compound was dark as he hurried out of the maintenance yard and caught up with the Vitaari.
“Sir, might I speak with you a moment?”
“Sonus, you’re still here.”
“Yes, sir. My apologies, but I wonder if I might ask your help with something.”
The Vitaari looked around. They were alone and the closest building—the accommodation block—was forty feet away.
“What is it?”
“This will remain between us, sir?”
“You know I cannot make such a promise.”
“Sorry. It’s… a friend of mine. She has been talking strangely. She has not been herself. I fear that she is… having terrible thoughts.”
Kadessis looked away for a moment and said, “I don’t see what I can do.”
“I am convinced, sir, that even a small change of scene would help. She is currently assigned to the secondary shaft, and all she talks of is the dark and the shadows and the noise. She is exhausted by it. All I wondered, sir, is if you might be able to reassign her? Perhaps to a less taxing duty out here in the compound.”
Kadessis scratched his neck and looked up at the sky.
Sonus kept his expression neutral, but he could feel his jaw trembling. So much depended on the Vitaari’s response.
“I would need a reason.”
While Sonus tried to force his addled mind to work faster, Kadessis continued. “A worker in such a condition might affect the morale and production of those around her. It might be beneficial for all if she was temporarily reassigned.”
Sonus had to stop himself grinning. “Yes, sir.”
“The name?”
Sonus told him.
“I can make no guarantees. You do understand that?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Good night,” said Kadessis.
“Good night, sir.”
By the time it actually happened, Sonus had almost given up hope. Four days later, at dawn, Qari was taken out of her line by a guard and escorted to the kitchens. She was to work there with the day shift, preparing food for the Vitaari. Sonus didn’t hear the news until that night, when Karas came to his cavern.
“I can hardly believe it,” he said, as he sat down on one of the stools Sonus had fashioned from metal off-cuts.
“How did you… I probably shouldn’t ask.”
“It’s best you don’t.”
“Qari smiled today,” continued Karas. “She smiled. The women in the kitchens were surprised that she’d been reassigned, but they were friendly enough. She’s in bed now, working on her overalls—she’s adjusting them so that it’s not so obvious. They wear aprons there—that will help. And there’s hardly a guard near the place.”
Though glad to see his friend happy, Sonus could not let himself get carried away. This was only a temporary solution.
“In truth, I could not be sure that it would work out. I could easily have exposed Qari. You too.”
“And yourself.” Karas leaned forward. “I will never forget this, Sonus.”
“That’s not why I mentioned it. It was a risk. And now I have to take another one.”
Again he had to wait; this time for the next freighter to arrive. He knew he had been fortunate so far: the increasing amount of repair and maintenance work had kept him out of the mines for over a week, and the approach to Kadessis could hardly have turned out better. Now he faced greater challenge, and the outcome was far harder to predict. But whichever way he looked at it, he had to try.
By delaying repairs to a landing light, Sonus made sure he was around for the loading phase. Other than a couple of guards and a technician who were idly watching cargo crates ease along the conveyor and into the ship’s hold, there were no other Vitaari close by. Sonus had been relieved to note the designation on the vessel’s side—the same freighter had been used for the last few visits. He just hoped the Lovirr Toroda was on board.
Sonus made no attempt to hide himself as he walked along the side of the landing strip; he had an excuse ready if necessary. The ship had clearly not been designed with aesthetics in mind: the huge, angular hold took up three quarters of its volume, and the engine block at the rear was similarly ugly. Sticking out at the front was a small cockpit; it reminded Sonus of a sand turtle’s head.
He walked around one of the landing struts, then climbed up a short ladder and into the hold. Two Lovirr were at work there in wheeled loaders, stacking the crates one by one. Sonus waited until he could see their faces—neither was Toroda. He started up another ladder connected to a walkway that ran around the top of the hold and provided access to the cockpit. Sonus climbed quickly; Kadessis or one of the other administrators might call him at any time.
Once upon the walkway, he spotted two Lovirr leaving the cockpit and heading toward the front of the hold. One was Toroda, and when he saw Sonus, he left his colleague and walked over to him. Like all Lovirr, he was small: no more than five feet, with the squat, compact frame c
ommon to his race. Their custom was for all males to grow heavy beards, and his was dotted with gray.
“Good day, Sonus.” Toroda spoke Palanian well but with a harsh accent that sometimes made him hard to understand.
“Good day. How are you?”
“Busy. You too, I expect. Can I help you with something?”
“I hope so.”
The noise from the loaders below was loud; Sonus did not want to have to shout.
“Is there somewhere quieter?”
“Yes, but you must be quick. I am expected outside.”
Toroda led him back into the cockpit but kept well away from the windows. “What is it?”
“You spoke before to me about the other mines that you visit. Have you heard of any people still free—outside, I mean?”
Sonus did not find it easy to read the expressions of the Lovirr, but Toroda appeared anxious.
“Rumors, occasionally.”
“And where are they?”
“Why, Sonus?”
“Curiosity. We hear nothing else of the outside world.”
“Is that all? You seem to me like a man with something specific on his mind.”
Sonus tried not to gulp. “All right. I need your help.”
“Then I must ask you to stop. I am sorry, but I will not endanger myself or my family. You know as well as I do what… they are capable of.”
Toroda went to walk past him. Without thinking, Sonus placed a hand on his shoulder. Toroda shrank backwards, suddenly fearful.
Sonus held up both hands. “I’m sorry. But a life is at stake.”
“And what of the lives of my children?” The Lovirr gestured at the cockpit. “I worked hard for this. To give my family a chance. You have no right—”
“I see that now. I apologize.”
“You should go. We should not be seen talking. By anyone.”
Sonus turned around, but Toroda had not finished.
“Please do not talk to me again. Stay away.”
Once back outside, Sonus went to finish the job on the landing light, but his mind was buzzing as he knelt and took off his pack. It was bad enough that Toroda had refused to help, but he’d seemed so frightened; might he even go further and report the conversation to cover himself?
