by Seven Steps
Hot liquid hastily moved through her veins. It made its way through her hips, back, and shoulders, paralyzing her as it went. When it reached her chest, she felt it surround her toma, cutting her off from its powers. She tried to focus on the sky again, tried to call something, anything to her. But her toma, like her beloved, was unresponsive.
Patting down the panic that threatened to rise within her, she tried to focus, tried to take a mental picture of the man who held her, unsure if she would be alive long enough to make use of it. She could only make out a long, plain navy blue robe, long toed bare feet, and the beard that tickled her so. He smelled like smoke.
“Put her down and help me put him in the bag,” the companion said.
“How are we going to get them both out of here now? They’ll be a crowd outside this door any minute.”
“Put him in the bag and drag him out. I’ll strap the girl under my robe and carry her that way.”
“What if the guard notices?”
“You should have thought about that when you were forgetting to stick her.”
“Why can’t we stash her somewhere, carry him out, then come back for her later?”
“The deal was that we have to take them both together. If we can’t get back, then Boikis will have our necks. We take them both out now.”
The liquid reached Nadira’s head, clouding her mind.
What deal?
As Nadira’s eyes closed, one thought permeated her fading consciousness.
Where are they taking us?
Etree tried not to squirm his shoulders as a bead of sweat ran down the middle of his back. He forced his mind to think about the future.
Stay calm and you’ll be home in time for War Games.
Underneath his robe, the Venian woman was bound hand and foot, her body wrapped around his torso. Her heat warmed the inside of his robe to the point of discomfort.
Think of when you get home. You’ll be a hero. Boikis will give you a big pay, and your very own women’s barracks. Maybe even your own planet when the time comes.
The thought of his future rewards propelled him forward, and he resisted the urge to fan himself as he continued down the too warm hallway.
He hoped that no one noticed that a slim ambassador had slipped into the room and a fat bellied ambassador had slipped out again.
Not likely with the amount of room swapping these ambassadors do, he reasoned.
He glanced at Namic, who grunted as he dragged a large, heavy bag behind him.
He hoped that no one noticed that either.
When they first arrived, a green haired, winged Zenithian had been stationed at the end of the hallway, its mouth slack, its eyes darting.
Listening, Etree had thought as he passed.
The Zenithians were short, winged, wild haired creatures who could read both spoken words and thoughts.
The Zenithian was not there now.
Etree felt his heart beat a bit faster. He looked up and down the hallway and frowned.
Where has it gone off to?
A few ambassadors peeked their heads out of their rooms, trying to determine the source of the explosion. Several more ventured into the hallway, heading in the direction of Kiln and Nadira’s room, muttering questions to themselves in their own languages.
Etree and Namic pulled the hoods of their robes over their heads, willing themselves to blend into the walls of the wooded hallway, walls that reflected the enormous tree that held this palace.
Several ambassadors looked with disinterest at Etree and Namic as they passed with their unusually large luggage.
Etree felt a rush of adrenaline course through him. His hands shook with the sudden force of it.
Don’t run. Stay calm and blend in.
He sunk his head deeper into his hood.
As more and more ambassadors headed down the hall, the green haired Zenithian reappeared, calling for order as it fluttered above the crowd.
Grateful for the crush of bodies, Etree and Namic stayed close to the bark covered wall and fought through the increasingly dense waves of curious ambassadors, all struggling to glimpse whatever caused the excitement.
A tickle formed in the back of Etree’s throat. He coughed shortly and waddled a bit in a futile effort to readjust Nadira’s dead weight around his torso.
She’s getting heavier with every step.
He wiped his sweat soaked forehead with his sleeve and glanced back at Namic.
Dripping with perspiration, Namic continued to drag his heavy load along the rough wooden floor. He made eye contact with Etree, then looked back at the Zenithian trying to bring the crowd of ambassadors to order.
Etree nodded, and touched his cap, pressing it more closely to his head.
The caps that Etree and Namic wore – Blockers - were custom made for planet Zenith. The caps blocked all outgoing brain waves, making the wearer virtually undetectable. The Zenithians were tuned into the planet. Etree and Namic had tuned themselves out.
They arrived at the end of the hall, and Etree let out a hot breath.
Almost there.
They quickly made their way through the lobby and towards the cloud that they would ride to freedom.
“Excuse me.”
Etree shuttered a reflex to pull his out his weapon, kill the keeper of the voice, and flee.
He plastered a calm smile on his face and turned around.
The black haired, three eyed Zenithian was looking at the glistening Namic.
“Can I help you with that bag?” It asked.
“No, thank you,” Namic replied.
“It looks heavy,” it said, its wide, lipless mouth turning down into a frown. “Here, let me help you to the clouds.”
With no further request, the Zenithian raised its arms, taking the heavy bag with it.
Namic’s eyes went wide, and, on the verge of panic, he looked at Etree.
Etree held Namic’s gaze for a moment, glanced at the bag, then at the Zenithian. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said, hoping that the shakiness in his voice didn’t show. He turned his back, willing Namic to be calm, and walked out of the tower and into the bright Zenithian sunshine as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
He reminded himself of the rewards that lay before him, Pay. Women. Pay. Women.
The Zenithian came up beside him, hovering the bag closely behind.
“I am called Cam,” it said.
Male? Etree wondered. It was almost impossible to tell Zenithians apart by their features. One had to look at their clothes. This one wore pants, and a banner across its chest in lieu of a shirt.
“I am ambassador Zanic,” Etree lied.
“Martian I presume?” Cam asked.
Etree stopped short, and stared at the Zenithian, the warm, humid air freezing in his chest.
How does it know?
He had intended on lying about where he was from, but now... He placed a shaky hand on his head to pat down his Blocker.
It’s not working.
Panic pumped through his racing heart.
It must be broken.
He began to feel for his weapon. Blood rushed in his ears, so loudly that he almost didn’t hear it when Cam spoke again.
“I am very good with accents, and yours is very pronounced. You would be amazed to know that each planet has its own accent. Though the languages may be different, the accent is very detectable.”
Etree let out a harsh breath, and laughed shortly at the madness of it all.
He looked back at Namic, his widened eyes beginning to calm, his hand moving away from his weapon. He nodded to him, then to Cam.
He picked up his pace.
Time to get out of this tree.
“Yes, we Martians are told that from time to time.”
Conversation halted as they moved through a mass of strange bodies in the Great Trees courtyard.
Etree thanked the god, Mars, for the respite from further inquisitions.
When they finally made it thr
ough the crush, and arrived where the clouds would take them from the top of the tree to the ground, Cam turned to them again.
“I hope that you have enjoyed your stay here on Zenith.”
It placed the bag gently in the middle of a newly formed cloud.
“We have enjoyed it tremendously,” Etree said, stepping a foot onto the cloud.
“Please, have a safe journey home,” Cam said with a wave.
Namic, red faced from exertions, gave a grand flourish of a bow, and smiled up at him.
As the cloud began its descent through the fog that surrounded the Great Tree, they could see Cam’s smile, at first bright, fade into a troubled frown. His waving hand dropped. Then, he was gone.
Etree and Namic looked at each other as the cloud quickly descended down the length of the tree.
They then looked down at the bag.
The zipper was half way down, with Kiln’s slack face clearly visible.
Namic looked back up at Etree, fear in his eyes.
“How did it get opened?” Namic cried, desperately trying to shove Kilns face deeper into the bag and rezip it.
Etree’s fear fueled temper exploded. “I don’t know, you idiot! I wasn’t the one in charge of the bag, you were!”
“Do you think that they saw it?”
Etree didn’t respond, only stared at Namic as if he had sprouted wings.
“What? What is it?”
“Where is your Blocker?”
Namic felt the top of his head, his mouth turning down into a frown.
The cap was gone.
“I must’ve lost it when I bowed,” he whispered.
Etree swore colorfully, and turned from Namic’s capless, sweaty head.
They can hear Namic’s thoughts, which means that they know exactly what we’re about to do. They’ll be waiting for us as soon as we land, which will be in barely a minute.
He brought his wrist to his lips and spoke into the circular device that had been implanted long ago.
“Forty Five seconds to drop. The package is at the tree. I repeat, the package is at the tree.”
He turned again and looked into Namic’s wide, darting eyes.
“It’ll be alright.” Etree placed a hand on Namic’s shoulder. “They’re coming to get us.”
“They’ll never make it in time.”
Etree sighed, making a point to turn away from Namic. He put his hands on his hips and dropped his head. “You’re probably right. They probably won’t make it.” He let the silence stretch. “We’ll just have to let the Zenithians take us into custody. When they do, we’ll call the Martian ambassador.” He turned back to Namic. “Don’t worry. We’ll be home before War Games.”
“Won’t they punish us?” Namic asked.
Etree shrugged. “Nothing worse than a slap on the wrist.”
Etree adjusted Nadira weight around his waist.
By Mars she’s heavy.
“We should have put wheels on the bag,” Namic said, beginning to pace.
Etree looked out over the Zenithian landscape, then back at Namic. “Stop pacing, you’re making me nervous.”
The ground was quickly coming into view. Below him, Etree could see dots of colors.
They’re here.
He shook out the weapon that had been fastened into the sleeve of his robe, and braced himself.
“Get ready,” he said.
Namic pulled a weapon from the inside of his robe, and bent his knees, ready to flee from the cloud.
“Don’t forget the bag,” Etree hissed at him.
Namic moved close to the bag, wrapping a strap around his wrist.
The Zenithians surrounded them as they touched down onto the dewy grass.
“Don’t move,” one cried. “You are in our custody.”
The cloud dissipated, leaving them in the middle of the Zenithian circle.
A red headed Zenithian stepped forward.
“Why are you detaining us?” Etree asked, keeping his voice even.
“A Zenithian has reported a kidnapping. We have heard your thoughts. We know what you’ve done to the Venians.”
“Kidnapping Venians? Why would we kidnap Venians?”
The tree-eyed Zenithians held no weapons, but their hands were held out in front of them as if ready for an attack. They wore wooden plates across their chest.
“You are planning to transport them to a Martin moon, although you do not know why.”
“So what they say about Zenithians is true. You can read minds.”
“You already knew that.”
“But I have never had it used on me or my friend here. It’s quite remarkable.”
The Zenithian relaxed a bit.
“Step away from the bag. Once we have secured it, we will cut the bonds of the woman who is tied around your waist. You will then be taken to the holding cells.”
“And then?”
“Your ambassador and Embrya will decide what to do with you.”
Etree heard Namic gasp. Avoiding his friend’s panicked gaze, he held up his hands.
“Yes, alright. We will not resist or put up a fight. We just want to go home.”
“That is up to the Magistrate to decide.”
“The Magistrate is spoken of as being a compassionate ruler. We trust that she will understand that we are only common, uneducated and easily manipulated Martians. It will be in the best interest of all involved if she returns us to Mars where we can face justice and reform at the hands of our own people.”
The Zenithian dropped its hands, and stood up.
“Take the bag, as well as its contents, to the physician,” she shouted over her shoulder. “Then release the woman, and take her to the physician as well.”
The sky rumbled.
Etree took a step towards Namic.
A dented, black ship noisily fell from the fog, made a sharp turn, and hovered just above the ground next to the circle of Zenithians and Martians.
The Zenithians froze.
Etree and Namic pulled out their weapons, and fired, striking the red headed Zenithian in the chest.
The Zenithian collapsed.
Etree and Namic shot wildly, carving out an escape route through their captures.
The ship’s door opened, revealing another bearded man.
Etree and Namic both grabbed hold of the bag and dragged it over the grass to the waiting ship.
The Zenithians held up their hands to them, as if attempting to shoot them through their fingers. When nothing happened, they stared at their palms, and each other, in disbelief. Defenseless, they fluttered their wings in a confused retreat.
No longer pursued, Etree and Namic boarded the ship, ridding themselves of the large load as soon as they were past the doors.
The ship fired its thrusters, catapulting itself high in the sky before its door was fully shut.
Namic untied Nadira from around Etree’s waist, dropping her unconscious body to the ground between his legs.
Etree moaned his relief, and leaded back to stretch his sore back. “Finally.” He groaned. “Put her over there by the other one.”
Etree took a breath, then turned to find the bearded man staring at him.
“What happened?” He asked. “This was supposed to be a covert operation.”
The man’s beard was neatly trimmed, his brown hair slicked back. His ice blue eyes narrowed at them, frown lines forming on his smooth forehead.
“We came upon some difficulties,” Etree said.
“I noticed.”
“We made it out.” Etree snatched off the fake beard that he’d glued on earlier, leaving a trail of white lines across his dark skin.
The bearded man frowned as Etree began to casually pull off his sweat soaked robe.
“Relax Boikis. It’s worked out. We got what we needed. We’re out.”
Etree sat down on a nearby crate and put his elbows on his knees.
Boikis didn’t respond right away, only looked from Etree to Namic and rolled
back his shoulders.
“Get cleaned up, and get those two to the medic. We’ll be home soon.”
CHAPTER 2
Embrya’s ice blue eyes stared unseeing at the white walls opposite her throne.
It’s all my fault.
Her lids closed as she tried to focus, to think about her next move.
As the Magistrate of one of the five sectors, it was her job to keep order, to keep her subjects safe.
How can I do that when I can’t even keep myself safe?
She shook her head, and looked down at her delicate, porcelain hands. She watched them ball into fist as anger built within her.
I should have never trusted the Martians. If only we had destroyed the machine when we had the chance. Now it’s too late. They will come for us, for my people.
She felt Heedon shift next to her. Her Keeper, the protector of the realm, and her partner in creation. Together they had created planets, stars and moons. Together they had formed a bond of love that time itself couldn’t break.
Can he protect me from what’s to come?
He moved his hand from the top of her throne to her shoulder.
Heat radiated from his warm palm, calming her. She placed a hand on top of his and took in a shaky breath.
“How bad is it?” He asked.
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry.
“The Martians have turned on us. They’ve sent two spies and a ship to kidnapped Nadira and Kiln. They’ve killed several of my people who tried to stop them.”
“And no one saw it? No one sensed what they were about to do?”
“They were wearing some sort if devices on their heads that stopped us from connecting with them. We couldn’t see their intentions.”
Heedon let out a loud breath, gently squeezing her shoulder.
“Martians,” He spat, following it up with a colorful Glorium swear.
She knew that voice, heard the edge in it. She remembered how adamant he’d been about allying with the Martians.
“They are trouble,” he said. “Let’s destroy the machine before they use it against us.”
“They’ll never give up the machine without a fight,” Embrya said. “I don’t want a war.”
“You won’t have a war, I will. Let my people protect you as we are purposed to do.”
