by Tim Marquitz
There wasn’t time to argue with him anymore. The longer Grom was out there, the more likely something bad could occur.
She couldn’t let that happen.
She went to the window and eased it open. Lina had already checked it and disabled the alarm systems so the Orgesse people wouldn’t know she’d used it to get out of the palace. Lina had also used her suit’s systems to subtly move the security cameras aimed at the rooms so it gave Taj a straight shot down into the palace grounds and a delineated path to follow that would get her out of the grounds and away without being noticed by the automated security systems.
All she had to worry about were the guards patrolling the physical property down below.
Fortunately, her suit could handle that.
She covered her head completely, then triggered the chameleon mode of her armored suit. She immediately blended in with her surroundings, her clothing mimicking the shadows and the gray of the palace walls.
With the help of the suit’s servos, she sunk her claws into the wall and scrambled downward as fast as she could, only the barest of tinks sounding at her efforts. She made it to the ground in moments, and shot off behind nearby foliage. Her suit compensated and shifted to its new camo seamlessly.
She stopped to catch her breath as proximity sensors flashed on her eyepiece, letting her know a pair of guards were passing. Taj heard them chatting with one another and traced their steps until they disappeared from her screen. Then she bolted off across the yard, following the path highlighted by her suit’s systems.
She grinned as she ran.
This thing is amazing, she thought over the link to Dent.
Just don’t get too comfortable, the AI replied. Rely on it too much and you’ll get lazy and make a mistake. It’s a tool, nothing more, remember that. Stick to your training and instincts.
Way to kill the thrill, Dent, she thought back, but she knew he was right.
She focused on the task at hand and clambered up the wall that bordered the palace and let out into the city beyond. This part, she knew, would be the most difficult of her escape.
The security systems there were better overlapped and designed to keep people out—and, unfortunately, in. It was also made redundant and more difficult by the increase of physical personnel patrolling both the top and other side of the wall.
Taj crouched low in the shadows by the wall and reached a hand out, avoiding actually touching it, however. Her palm hovered centimeters from the wall.
I’m here, she sent to Lina.
On it, the engineer replied without hesitation.
Taj watched her display flicker and saw the various processes run across the screen that Lina was using to manipulate the security protocols built into the wall. Seconds seemed to drag out forever before Lina finally said the process was over.
Got it done, she thought. The systems will now process your suit as part of it. Just be sure to keep completely covered or you risk setting it off.
Taj shot up the wall without waiting, trusting the engineer to have done what she said. She climbed quickly, like a spider, keeping her chest and stomach right up against the wall.
She was about halfway up when a motion detector warned her someone was standing overhead.
Taj froze, clutching to the wall as she spied a pale face peek over the edge of the wall from above.
“What is it?” someone out of sight asked.
“Thought I heard something,” the guard peering over the wall said. He stared directly at her.
Taj held her breath, even though she was sure the man couldn’t possibly hear the whisper that was her breath through the layers of the suit. Still, she couldn’t help herself.
Like Dent had said earlier, she had to go with her instincts and not trust the AI’s technology more than necessary.
She hung there in frigid silence as the guard continued to look, squinting as he tried to the locate the source of whatever he’d heard. After a long moment, the guard shrugged and his face moved out of sight.
Taj let out the barest of sighs.
“I’m not seeing anything,” the guard said to his compatriot.
“You know how sound carries weirdly from the palace,” his partner said. “Besides, the systems would have been triggered if there was something there. No one gets over the wall,” the second guard told the first, absolute confidence in his voice.
“True,” the first replied, and Taj heard their booted footsteps as they moved on.
She watched on her scanner until they were gone, then started her ascent again. Seconds later, she was on the top of the wall. She cast a furtive glance at the area beyond, letting her suit scan for more guards and the best route, then she leapt into the air.
Taj soared out over the external security barriers and landed in a crouch. She rolled, letting her momentum carry her even farther from the guards and their sensors, and then hunkered down low and bolted toward the nearest cover of town.
In an alley a short distance away from the wall, out of the line of sight of anyone manning it, she straightened, stretching her hunched limbs, and grinned. There was no hint that she’d triggered the alarms crossing the wall.
I’m out, she told her crew.
Systems look good, Lina confirmed.
Talk soon, Taj shot back, knowing how little time they had. The clock was ticking.
Be careful, she heard Cabe say again, and the system went silent.
I will, she thought to herself, not risking sending another message.
The original plan had been to simply transform her suit into a reasonable approximation of the local fashion and walk down the streets boldly in her quest to find Grom Hadar, but the attack and news footage gacked that all up.
Taj, keeping her suit fully sealed and the chameleon program running, climbed up the side of the building she’d been resting against and clambered onto the roof. She immediately scanned the area, searching for people she might not be able to see, and she was glad to find herself alone.
Not much choice but to trust in the tech out here, she thought.
Regardless, she would do what she needed to do.
Taj started off, skirting the rooftops and leaping from building to building as she made her way toward Grom’s last-known location.
The Federation intel had tracked Grom’s last transmission to them and had provided Taj’s team with the location. It was apparently a small building near the edge of town, hidden away in an area Dent had unkindly called a ghetto.
Though Taj hadn’t heard the word before, Dent’s explanation was spot on once she’d traversed the city and found her way to the coordinates displayed on her screen.
The place looked like a warzone.
Much like where the caravan had been ambushed, this part of town was in poor repair and crowded with trash and people who looked like refugees. Taj felt sorry for them immediately as she looked upon the people wandering the streets, seemingly with nowhere to go. They were dressed in layers of clothing despite the obvious warmth of the night, and they carried handfuls of ragged bags slung over their shoulders and in their hands.
It was like they carted along everything they owned for fear of leaving it someplace and losing it.
She felt a pang in her chest at the thought, the feeling further motivated by just how many people were out at that time of night. While not overly late, the local businesses and traffic had closed and cleared out, but Taj could count at least twenty people shuffling along.
They kept their distance from one another, and she saw wary looks pass between a few as they drew too close, each of the people shuffling off to regain that separation without so much as a word.
She couldn’t imagine living like that. Even the few people she disliked among the Furlorians had never provoked such a response from her, even on their worst days. Taj wondered what it was like to be so harangued in her daily life that she needed to avoid those of the same circumstances living around her.
That was probably the desper
ation and despair that had Grom seeking out the Federation.
Reminded of her mission, Taj waited until the streets were partially clear before clambering down the wall into a darkened alley that sensors marked as empty. She slipped behind the backs of the shuffling locals and darted across the street into an adjoining alleyway between two short, squat buildings.
Both were rundown and battered, many of the windows haphazardly boarded shut, while pieces of the boards had been cracked or ripped away. She made her way down the alley, searching for the specific location as her sensors ticked off coordinates. At last, she found the hovel where Grom had last reached out to the Federation.
After a quick glance about, making certain she wasn’t seen despite the scanner’s clear readings, Taj grabbed the door handle and tugged.
Despite appearances, the door seemingly nailed to the wall, it gave way easily, opening with a mournful creak. Taj hissed at the sound and shot inside, easing the door closed behind her and hoping the sound didn’t carry.
As she waited to see if anyone noticed, she spied a pair of thick bolts that had been installed on the inside of the door. She slipped them into place and felt slightly better about her position.
No obvious signs of damage to those bolts. If this was Grom’s hideout, it would appear that he’d left of his own accord, not that he’d been forced out, which seemed to be a good thing.
Taj hoped that meant his belongings would still be there, at the very least, and maybe she could find something that might lead her to where he’d gone.
She drew in a deep breath and started her search of the makeshift home. It was small, dank, and sparse. The foyer she entered was tiny, barely enough room for her to stand there alone. There was no way two people would fit in it side by side.
Beyond that, there was a cramped kitchen, though she was only able to tell that by the counters that filled the room. There weren’t any conveniences, nothing for heating or cooling food, but a single plate setting with utensils sat on one of the counters alongside a small sink. It looked clean, and Taj couldn’t smell any food remnants.
In fact, she could smell nothing but dust through the suit’s filters.
She moved on past the empty kitchen and found a singular main room, designed to be the whole of the apartment, both bedroom and living area, with only a bathroom off to the side through an open alcove. Taj could tell it was empty from where she stood without needing to go over to it.
She glanced around the room and let out a slow sigh. The place was only marginally better than living on the streets, she imagined.
At least it would keep the rain off your head, she thought, glancing up at the ceiling. Then again…
The ceiling had a number of darker spots across its face, showing where past rains or leaks had infiltrated the room. Bits of plaster and wood hung from the ceiling like thick spider webs.
Taj peeled her eyes from the ceiling and turned to where a small couch sat shoved into the corner. A pillow and a pair of ratty blankets were tossed on top, the blankets crumpled into a bunch near the foot.
The floor creaked as Taj went to take a closer look, letting the suit’s scanners ensure her safe passage.
Next to the couch, she spotted a small pack. She snatched it up and looked inside.
There were mostly dirty outfits wadded inside, an extra pair of tattered shoes, and a few protein bars, once of which was half-eaten and left open. But as Taj dug around inside the bag, she found a clasped envelope, stuffed nearly to bursting.
She pulled the envelope out and opened it.
Inside were a thick stack of images, one after another. They weren’t anything like the holos she’d seen growing up on Krawlas, where the device flowed through the images, displaying each in turn in 3-D. No, each of these images were singular, one moment captured on each picture, though it did appear as if they were intended to be a series.
As she flipped through the images, there were slight movements by the subjects in each, allowing her to get an idea as to the motion being performed by those movements the images captured. And while several people flitted across the pictures, it looked as if Grom had singled out one among the gathering.
The man stood with obvious confidence among the group, set apart in the center of them. The room was gloomy and candlelit, casting shadowy wisps across the scene, but there was something ritualistic about the setting that caught Taj’s attention.
There were strange symbols painted in white on the floor and walls that Taj didn’t recognize and her suit’s system didn’t seem capable of translating. The man held a book aloft, its cover at a bad angle where Taj couldn’t even attempt to identify it, but he seemed to be waving it about, motioning with it toward those gathered around him. The way it was used in the images, held out before everyone, made her think it was important.
Like the man in the center of the photo, those around him were also dressed in black robes. Each of them wore a similarly dark, hooded mask that obscured their features when they were captured in the images. The fact that there were slits for four eyes on each of the masks told Taj that those hiding underneath were most likely locals.
It also told her that they were most likely the same group of people who’d attacked the caravan since they were wearing the same type of masks.
The man in the center of the images wore a hood similar to those of the crowd, but it was designed more like a hat. His face stood out pale against the darkness of his clothing and the shadowy room. His four eyes were narrow slits of yellow, and his mouth peeled back in a sneer in most every picture, his cheeks and forehead lined with intensity.
Whatever he was saying to the people there, he meant it. There was clear determination in his expression, a fire that stood out plainly.
As Taj flipped through the images and landed on the last one, she caught sight of the man’s eyes. Unlike before, when he’d been focused on his flock—as Taj couldn’t help but picture him as a shepherd—his eyes now looked directly at her. She felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as if the man could see her. A chill ran down her spine at the intensity of his glare.
His arm had begun to rise in the picture, as if moving to point, and the determination in the man’s expression had been replaced by something more calculated, something more sinister.
Fury.
Taj realized then that the man had noticed whoever was taking the images—Grom, she presumed—and had reacted to his unexpected presence. He’d spotted Grom, which was what she figured had been the cause of the crew’s mission there. This was why he disappeared.
Obviously, however, for her to have the images in her hands right then, Grom had gotten away from the group.
For a time, at least.
The thought sobered Taj as she realized these people in the images might well be the reason Grom disappeared. She had no idea what information he had intended to provide the Federation in exchange for protection.
We have a problem, Lina thought over the link. They’re here to get us.
Taj growled and stuffed the images back into the envelope. Once she was done, she pressed the whole thing to her chest and willed the suit to absorb it, marveling at the process as it did just that, drawing the envelope into the mass of the suit and leaving no trace of it once it was gone.
They’re asking for you, Lina went on.
“Cover for me for a few minutes,” she said, not even realizing she’d spoken aloud. “I’m on my way.”
Taj spun on her heel and bolted back for the door. She scanned outside and, when she was sure she could slip out unseen, she threw the bolts back and took off, racing back toward the palace as fast as she possibly could.
She hoped she’d make it back in time.
Chapter Eight
“I’m so sorry young Princess Taj fell ill,” Dent explained to Zel as he led them through the palace, presumably toward where the queen awaited them.
“Queen Rilan will be greatly disappointed,” Zel said. Krawg grunted, as if taking offense at the rep’s
tone of voice.
Lina certainly had.
“I understand,” Lina said, jumping in and cutting off Dent before he could say anything else, “but she’s not used to being ambushed and shot at, forced to use a weapon directly to defend herself. The whole situation simply overwhelmed her. To be completely honest, I’m surprised the rest of us are doing as well as we are. We could all use a short rest.”
Zel nibbled at his lip, and Lina realized it was an effort by the man to keep his own frustration in check. “Of course, of course,” he replied, but the engineer didn’t see much in the way of real understanding there.
His only interest was in satisfying his queen, and the circumstances of what had happened to the crew didn’t matter except in the regards that it had inconvenienced his monarch, thus it had inconvenienced him.
That was all he cared about, Lina thought.
She, however, had another concern.
Lina slowed and leaned against the wall, exhaling loudly. The crew stopped and gathered around her.
“Are you okay?” Torbon asked, concern in his eyes. If she hadn’t been so intent on playing the role, she would have laughed at him.
I’m fine, she thought across the link. Play along.
“A little lightheaded is all,” Lina said out loud, making sure that Zel heard her.
“Here, lean against me,” Cabe told her, wrapping an arm around her waist when Torbon just stood there, obviously trying to catch up on everything.
Slick, Cabe teased, and Torbon offered a tiny shrug in an attempt at defense.
“Are you well?” Zel asked, coming to stand behind the mass of Furlorians as they tended to Lina.
Krawg stepped forward, forcing the representative back a step.
“She’ll be fine,” Dent answered for Lina, also coming to stand before Zel, helping to obscure his view a bit. “She just needs a moment or two to recover.”
“If there’s anything—” Zel started, but Dent waved the offer off before the rep could finish it.
