Captive

by Cheryl Brooks

  Klara shook her head. “I still don’t get that. All we’ve done is do our best to survive without getting caught.”

  “That may be true,” Velkma said. “However, you enjoy a measure of freedom that the rest of us do not have. Many who have rebelled have lost their lives in the arena. That you have eluded that fate is an inspiration to us all.”

  Klara’s eyes met Moe’s with frank dismay. She obviously didn’t see herself as an inspiration, much less a revolutionary.

  Moe disagreed. In his eyes, she was a revolution waiting to happen. “Believe me now?”

  Chapter 12

  “Wait a second,” Nexbit said, waving his arms. “Can’t we at least wait until after breakfast to start the rebellion?”

  Velkma smiled. “An army must march on its stomach.” Turning toward her house, she motioned for the others to follow. “Come in out of the wind. We will discuss our plans while we eat.”

  “Rebellion? Plans?” Klara hadn’t felt so bewildered since—well, since those first jolts of arousal after meeting up with Moe. “Dammit, Moe! I knew you’d be trouble. I should’ve walked out of that bar without a backward glance and let that Herp beat the stuffing out of you.”

  Velkma paused in her doorway. “Is there a problem?”

  Moe’s unabashed grin made Klara long to smack him. “She likes me,” he said in an aside to Velkma. “A lot.”

  Velkma’s entire body rippled with brittle laughter. “I believe she does, although I’m sure it pains her to admit it.”

  “What pains me is having my gang ganging up on me,” Klara snarled. “We came into town looking for a bank, and now we’re planning a rebellion?”

  “You gotta learn to go with the flow, boss,” Temfilk advised. “I mean, if this lady is willing to feed us, I’d say that warrants a slight detour.”

  She shot the Norludian a withering glance. “Thanks for clearing that up, Tem. Really appreciate it.”

  “I believe your greatest wish is to avenge the deaths of your mother and brothers,” Velkma said. “There are those of us who are willing to help you.”

  An ancient Haedusian woman against Pelarus’s henchmen?

  Not much of a chance there.

  Even that horde of women waving posters couldn’t hope to defeat such insurmountable odds. Klara had contented herself with harassing her enemy. She’d never truly believed she could actually overthrow him or she would’ve made the attempt long ago. “Are you willing to die?” she demanded. “Because that’s probably what will happen. I refuse to risk any more lives.”

  “We have lived in fear and misery long enough,” Velkma declared with a defiant thrust of her chin. “The day that Pelarus is defeated will be a good day to die.”

  “We’ve risked lives to survive before,” Temfilk pointed out. “What about all those guys you sold as gladiators? Most of them are probably dead by now.”

  Klara narrowed her eyes as her hands balled into fists. “That’s different. There wasn’t a one of them who didn’t deserve what they got, and you know it. Hell, Pelarus should have been paying us for helping get the criminals off the street.”

  Moe took a rather menacing step closer. “Hold on a second… You only captured and sold criminals?”

  “That’s right,” she replied with a stiff nod. “I would never send an innocent person to the arena.”

  Moe’s eyes widened. “You were going to send me to the arena. What made you think I was a criminal?”

  She gaped at him for a long moment before a reply finally surfaced. “You were in a fight. A fight you didn’t need to—” She was digging herself in deeper with each passing moment. I should shut up right now. “Look, I don’t know why I captured you.” She threw up her hands in a gesture of futility. “It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

  Temfilk chuckled. “She likes you, Moe. She had the hots for you from the moment she laid eyes on your pretty pointed ears.”

  While this was a perfectly logical explanation for her impulsive behavior, it still went against the grain. “I did not! I—”

  Nexbit patted her arm in what he undoubtedly believed was a soothing manner. “No one thinks any less of you for liking Moe. It’s only natural that you would be attracted to him.” His stomach let out a growl. “Can we please leave it at that and get something to eat? I’m starving!”

  She’d once seen Nexbit try to eat the moldy siding off a derelict building, saying that even the lowest forms of plant life had some nutritive value. He finally gave up when his termite form failed to put a dent in the petrified wood. Since then, Klara had done her best to keep him fed, although she doubted he’d ever truly been sated. For now, however, she was grateful for his intervention in what was rapidly escalating into an argument.

  A lot had changed since she’d taken Moe captive. Feelings she’d never imagined had taken root and begun to flourish, and yet, she was still loath to admit to them. At some point, she might confess that Moe had been the one to capture her, but today was not that day.

  “Aw, go on and kiss and make up,” Temfilk advised. “Or we’ll never get this revolution started.”

  With a tolerant cackle and a beckoning wave of her withered hand, Velkma stepped back to allow them to enter her home. “Welcome to my cottage,” she said. “You are welcome to anything I possess if it will aid you in your endeavors.”

  Klara paused at the threshold, gaping at the old woman. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, but she couldn’t help it. Gathering her wits and closing her mouth took a few moments. “There’s no need for that. We’ve been taking care of ourselves for years.”

  “And you’ve done quite well,” Velkma said. “But times have changed. The stakes are much higher now. You require assistance, and we are willing to provide it.” She patted Klara’s arm as she gestured toward a table and chairs. “Come, child. Don’t be shy.”

  By “we” she assumed Velkma was referring to the women who had been clamoring for her autograph. Hopefully, they had access to more weaponry than a bunch of posters.

  A brief glance around the front room proved at least one of Velkma’s claims was true. The walls were papered with wanted posters, all of which had the same crude drawing of a woman with long curly hair and pointed ears. Surrounded by so many images of herself gave Klara the creeps, but she managed to suppress a shudder while taking a seat at the table.

  The others joined her—Nexbit and Temfilk looking anxious but pleased, the Racks chattering with anticipation, and Moe, who was still glowering at her. Velkma closed the door behind them. They’d barely had time to settle in their places when a knock at the door caused her to open it again.

  She smiled and took a tray from a woman who was flanked by several others. “The offerings are already arriving,” she said. “At this rate, I won’t even have to cook.”

  The donor, a younger and only slightly less ragged version of their hostess, waved from the doorway. “We know it isn’t much, but we brought whatever we had.” She let out a long sigh and clasped her hands to her bosom. “We’ve been waiting so long for this happy, happy day.”

  “Might be too soon to be calling it that,” Klara muttered.

  “Killjoy,” said Temfilk, who had leaped to his feet at the sight of the laden tray. He bowed low before the women. “Thank you, kind ladies. We graciously accept this gift.”

  Surprisingly, Temfilk’s formal delivery had the women simpering and tittering. If they’d been Norludian, he might’ve gotten lucky. However, given that they were all Haedusian, she couldn’t imagine even the youngest of them would’ve tempted him in any way.

  Unlike the way Klara felt about Moe. After a lifetime of avoiding men, she found it hard to believe Moe could’ve changed her attitude overnight. And he hadn’t, really. Sure, she could admire him and appreciate the normalcy of a blossoming relationship between them, but she wasn’t lusting after him. At least, not at the moment. The whole revolution thing had been quite successful in diverting her mind from any thoug
hts of romance.

  Especially since he still seemed a bit put out with her.

  Conversation ceased the moment Velkma set the food on the table. It was no better or worse fare than they’d managed to steal in the past, but the plentiful nature of it was staggering. They truly were beggars sitting down at a feast. Four of the other ladies lingered, offering to fetch whatever any of them might need or want. Klara hated to break it to them, but she still didn’t get how any of this might result in Pelarus’s downfall. A favorable outcome for any form of revolt was highly unlikely. Case in point, the clash that had created the Barrens.

  Plus, if what she’d observed thus far was any indication, a revolution now would likely result in a battle between the sexes. The women seemed more resourceful than the males, possibly because they were actually trying to make their lives better. The men appeared to have given up, taking a rather fatalistic view of Pelarus’s rule. And with the battle in the Barrens as proof that resistance was futile, who could blame them?

  Still, if the sort of harassment she and her gang had perpetrated were implemented on a much larger scale, Pelarus might realize that controlling the masses was impossible. A handful of henchmen, especially paid mercenaries, couldn’t rule a populace that simply refused to cooperate.

  That strategy might work.

  But where to start?

  She glanced up to find that, during her ruminations, any food that wasn’t on her plate had disappeared.

  “You gonna eat that, boss?” Nexbit asked, nodding hopefully toward the few limp vegetables and dried fruits on her plate.

  She shook her head and pushed the plate toward him. “You can have it. I’m not hungry anymore.”

  “You should be,” Temfilk scolded. “You didn’t eat a thing.”

  “Yes, I did,” she protested. “Just not a lot.” And yet, despite the meager amount, her appetite had vanished.

  “Come on now, Klara,” Temfilk said firmly. “You don’t have to give up food to keep us from going hungry.” He patted his full belly. “At least, not today.”

  “Oh, all right,” she grumbled. “I’ll eat it. Just don’t come crying to me if you’re hungry later.”

  Nexbit placed a gentle hand on hers. “Klara, dear, we will be hungry later whether you clean your plate or not.”

  He had a point.

  She picked up a dried judakle fruit and popped it in her mouth. As experience had taught her, she allowed her saliva to soften it for a moment before even attempting to chew. “There,” she said around the sticky mass. “Happy now?”

  “Positively thrilled,” Nexbit assured her.

  Velkma rose from the table. “I believe this event calls for wine,” she announced. “I shall fetch the bottle.”

  Klara paused in her attempt to dispatch the judakle fruit to follow the elderly woman with her astonished gaze. Wine was among the most expensive libations to be had on Haedus, making her rethink her assessment of the woman’s finances.

  The answer was provided when she returned with a bottle so dusty, its vintage might very well have predated Velkma’s birth.

  Klara swallowed with some difficulty. “It might be better to sell that instead of drinking it. It has to be worth a bundle.”

  “Perhaps,” Velkma said as she pulled the cork. “However, the trick would be finding someone who could afford to buy it.”

  Yet another good point.

  Velkma poured the clear burgundy liquid into a glass that was surprisingly clean. “This wine was made from grapes grown on this world before our climate began to change.” Her eyes grew misty as she held the bottle up to the light. “I recall a time when there were green fields and vineyards as far as the eye could see.” She shook her head sadly. “All of that is gone now. Stolen from us by malice and greed.”

  “Are you saying someone stole your water?” Temfilk asked.

  “It sounds impossible, doesn’t it?” the old woman said. “But over time, that is what happened. Our atmosphere couldn’t be taken, but the water…” She shook her head again. “The most important component of life on this or any other world, and it was taken from us to provide fresh water for those worlds that had been careless with the purity of their own water. You see, of all the known planets where water is plentiful, our oceans were not salty. Apparently those of us who live here were considered…expendable. If it weren’t for its location on a trade route, this planet and its inhabitants would’ve perished long ago. Instead, we have fallen prey to jackals like Pelarus.”

  “I take it this water stealing was done secretly?” Nexbit asked. “I mean, didn’t anyone try to stop them?”

  For a moment, Velkma made as though she would’ve hurled the wine bottle against the wall, were it not for the frugality that necessity had embedded within her nature. “Yes, the thieves must’ve come in darkness or far from land where no one could witness their crimes. But what would it matter if it was done openly? How could a peaceful agrarian society ever hope to fight back against ruthless beings with the means to drain our oceans?”

  “You certainly couldn’t make anyone give it back,” Temfilk said with a snicker. “But you’re talking like it never rains here, and it does rain. In fact, now that the winds have come, it should start raining pretty soon.”

  Velkma nodded toward a grimy window, which creaked in protest as a strong gust of wind shook it. “The Timaval winds used to herald the end of winter and the beginning of spring. Now they bring only a brief respite to land so parched, the moisture evaporates before most plants have time to grow. You see, this region wasn’t blessed with plant life that evolved to thrive in such harsh conditions. This change took place during my lifetime. There hasn’t been enough time for plants to adapt, even if they could.”

  As was his habit, Moe had been content to sit back and listen until he felt he had grasped the situation well enough to comment. Clearly, there was more to this planet’s woes than a guy who liked women with beautiful Davordian-blue eyes.

  “There are other ways of restoring water besides stealing it,” he said. “I mean, I get why whoever stole it didn’t want to take the time to do it naturally, but it can be done. In the meantime, I’m assuming there were desert regions here originally. Perhaps some of those plants could be relocated—”

  Velkma cut him off with a derisive snort. “You speak as though anyone with the wherewithal to do such a thing would actually trouble themselves to do it. No, life on this world is doomed, although its death throes would be far easier to endure without tyrants like Pelarus.”

  Undaunted, Moe continued, “But if we can bring down Pelarus, there are things that can be done to improve your world, even if the oceans can’t be fully restored. There are edible plants whose leaves gather the dew and funnel it down the stalk to water the roots. Other plants clean the air and require comparatively little water to grow.”

  Velkma actually smiled, albeit a trifle grimly. “You have traveled far, it seems.”

  Moe couldn’t fault her skepticism, but this stuff was doable. With a little publicity on other worlds, there would be people willing to invest in Haedus Nine’s future even more than its demise. He might even throw in a few credits himself.

  “Yes, I have,” he said with renewed enthusiasm. “I’ve seen devices that can extract moisture from the air and turn it into drinking water. Chemical reactions that can create water where none existed before. Those reactions are difficult to control, but not impossible. Greenhouses could be built to retain moisture for growing food. Water was stolen from this world. Therefore, it can be replaced. Other worlds might be willing to donate. But to do that, they have to know the problem exists. Most people, myself included, probably assume Haedus Nine’s climate has always been like this. If it was changed once, it can be changed again.”

  Klara stared at him with what he hoped was open-mouthed admiration rather than frank dismay. “You make it sound so simple.”

  “Not really,” he said. “It’ll take lots of cash, hard work, and determination.
I’m guessing Pelarus has tons of money. If we can take him down and confiscate his assets, we’ll have plenty to get started with.” Sensing that he almost had her convinced, he leaned forward and fixed his earnest gaze on Velkma’s desiccated face. “Listen, Rutger Grekkor’s wealth has enabled the remaining Zetithians to flourish. Pelarus’s money can do the same for the inhabitants of this region, perhaps even the entire planet. All we have to do now is start a revolution. Once Pelarus is overthrown, we can make plans for Haedus Nine’s rebirth.”

  Chapter 13

  Temfilk slapped his hands on the table. “So, Pelarus first, environment second, right?”

  “That’s about the size of it,” Moe said, noting that any mention of lunch or dinner was omitted. “The sooner we start, the better.”

  The tallest of the other four Haedusian women stepped forward. “You are giving us hope where there previously was none. Even if it is false hope, it is better than no hope at all.”

  “It isn’t false,” he assured her. “Your lives truly can be better.”

  She drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t much more than a Norludian’s. “I am Yirland. You have my full support, and that of my family.”

  Moe had no idea what this level of support entailed, but he wasn’t about to dismiss it out of hand. “Thank you very much, Yirland. We’ll need all the help we can get to pull this off.”

  “Her support is considerable,” Velkma said with a wry smile. “She is related to many of the remaining members of the governing class.”

  The fact that she’d referred to them as “remaining members” suggested that their numbers were comparatively few. Still, their help would be better than no help at all. On the other hand, the mention of a “class” suggested a less than egalitarian society. He chose his words with care. “You have class distinctions here?”

  Yirland’s bark of laughter lacked any trace of mirth. “Not any longer. Living under Pelarus’s rule has made certain of that. My family has no more wealth or influence than any other. It is, however, quite extensive, harking back to a time when such connections were greatly coveted.”