The Renegade

by P. M. Johnson

  Kane angrily wiped tears from his eyes. He shook his head in an attempt to free his mind of those horrifying images, but it was no good. They tore at every fiber of his being until his heart was saturated with grief and rage.

  The call of a nearby bird woken from its slumber by the rising wind pulled Kane from his dark thoughts. He looked in the direction of the bird and cursed under his breath. It was a mockingbird. Of course it was, he thought bitterly.

  “No, my Love” he said. “No more. It will tear me in two.”

  The mocking bird called a few more times.

  “Have pity on me! How can I do this without losing my humanity? I’ve stepped back from the abyss! I step back every day. Do not ask me to approach the edge again.”

  The bird continued its song. Kane looked up into the night sky, his cheeks wet with tears, and watched as the last few stars disappeared behind the rapidly approaching storm clouds. More thunder rolled over the treetops, this time much louder.

  “I like being alone in the woods,” he said defensively to the bird’s call. “I like letting the world pass me by on its way to oblivion!”

  He rubbed his face with his hands then dragged his fingernails through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. The bird sang its song a little longer then fell silent. Kane sat there for few more minutes, slowly stirring the coals and thinking of lost loved ones and the pain of surviving so many battles he’d secretly hoped to lose.

  The mocking bird sang once more.

  “Damn it,” he grumbled. Looking up into the trees, he shouted, “One last time! Then I’m done!”

  He walked to the smokehouse and knocked the peg out of its loop. He yanked open the heavy door, grabbed some cured meat, and dropped them into a cloth sack. Then he walked to the cabin and kicked the door open. Five minutes later, he emerged with a light pack on his back, a rifle in his hand, and a sword and dagger hanging from a belt around his waist. Taking long strides, he hastened into the forest in the same direction Carlos had gone. It wasn’t long before he found him.

  “Hold up!” he called.

  Carlos stopped and waited. “You changed your mind?” asked the tall man with a broad smile on his face.

  “Let’s just say I’m curious about what our old friends Linsky and Harken are up to.”

  Carlos nodded his head. “So let’s get going. It will take us all night to get to where I hid my truck.”

  Kane looked to his left. “To hell with your truck.”

  “To hell with my truck?”

  “I’d rather not get ambushed on some backroad with no room to escape.”

  “Nobody knows I am here,” said Carlos defensively.

  “I’m not willing to take that chance.”

  “So what do you suggest? Are we to walk the thousand kilometers that separates us from Liberty?”

  Kane scoffed. “Liberty? I’m never going to that place again.” He patted Carlos on the shoulder. “Tell me, old friend. Do you know how to ride a horse?”

  “Of course. I grew up raising horses.”

  “Perfect, I have a friend who will lend us a couple. And there’s a Traveler Conclave underway two day’s ride from here. We’ll need their help to find out where Linsky’s hiding.”

  Kane headed north and soon found a barely discernable animal trail. Above their heads, a strong gust of wind pulled hard on the treetops, causing them to creak loudly as they swayed back and forth.

  “I think we are about to get very wet,” said Carlos. A smile spread across his face.

  “Yes we are,” replied Kane, “but you don’t need to be so damn happy about it.”

  “I’m not. I’m just happy to have my old friend back in the fight.”

  Kane ducked under a branch and said, “This will probably end very badly for both of us. You know that right?”

  “Perhaps,” said Carlos as the first big drops of rain began to plop on the brim of his hat. “But it will be an end worth having.”

  Chapter 43

  Friends ask you questions. Enemies question you.

  - Tullan proverb.

  Ravenwood and Beth appeared at the Tyseria launch pad just minutes after alerting Cap and Lena of their plans to immediately depart. Ravenwood quickly ascended the Drake’s rear ramp without saying a word. Beth was right behind him.

  “What’s up?” asked Cap from the pilot’s seat as he got the Drake ready for departure.

  “Don’t ask me,” said Beth with a nod toward Ravenwood.

  Lena and Cap proceeded to pepper Ravenwood with questions, but he ignored them. He simply strapped himself into a seat and indicated for them to follow his example.

  Realizing they wouldn’t get any answers from Ravenwood until they were underway, Cap completed the final few steps necessary to prepare the Drake for takeoff. But when he requested permission to depart, he was surprised to receive instructions to wait.

  “Ignore that. Please proceed, Cap,” said Ravenwood.

  “What’s going on?” asked Cap.

  “Quickly! We haven’t a moment to lose.”

  “But we don’t have permission to take off,” said Cap.

  “Nor will we receive it,” replied Ravenwood. “Go now. I will accept the consequences.”

  “I’m the pilot, old man,” said Cap, irritated with Ravenwood’s presumptuousness. “Passengers can’t take responsibility for a pilot’s actions.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Lena. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “Not yet,” replied Ravenwood. “Go now, Cap. You’ll have to trust me.”

  Cap looked at Beth, who could offer no guidance, then back at Ravenwood. “Taking off without permission could get me black-listed; I won’t be allowed to land at any Lycian port.”

  Ravenwood took a breath and leaned back in his seat. His eyes softened as he said in a musing tone, “You know, there is some dispute as to who owns the Drake. Whether it belongs to the League of Free Cities, the Lycians, or the United Earth Council is a topic for debate, but one person it most certainly does not belong to is a certain Commander Michael Caparelli, though he behaves as if it did. Now, I might be in a position to remove this ambiguity regarding ownership of the Drake in favor of said commander. But only if he resolves his present moral dilemma and immediately departs!”

  Cap didn’t need to hear any more. Though he had frequently piloted the Drake over the past several years, typically on temporary assignment to Ravenwood for diplomatic missions, he did not actually own the ship. In fact, if he were to be completely honest, he had stolen it from the League’s top secret base in the Rocky Mountains. Since then the Lycians had provided the League and other nations of Earth many advanced fighter craft, mostly Falcons and Bulldog torpedo-fighters. As a result, the Drake became available for use as the UEC’s unofficial diplomatic vehicle. Most recently, it was handed over to the Earth Defense Force as a training vehicle. And though Cap flew a Falcon when not chauffeuring Ravenwood around the galaxy, he dearly loved the Drake, a well-armed gunship with cargo space to deliver troops or freight, depending on the needs of the mission.

  All of this information flashed through Cap’s mind in a fraction of a second. He looked at Ravenwood and said with a grin, “I’m pickin’ up what you’re layin’ down, old man.” He slipped his hands into the holographic control wells and engaged the ship’s thrusters. The Drake lifted nimbly off the pad and shot out of the landing bay then upward into the sky.

  Once out of the planet’s gravity well and speeding toward the nearest khâl, Cap asked, “Okay, Ravenwood, where to?”

  “Xur.”

  “Why?” asked Lena as she entered the destination into the Drake’s navigation system. “What’s on Xur?”

  “A link to the remnants of the Cassamar Syndicate,” replied Ravenwood. “I need to speak to someone who can pass along a message.”

  “Those rats?” said Cap, surprised. “I thought they went scurrying to the Sahiradin.”

  “They did seek refuge there,” said Beth as
she regarded Ravenwood, trying to discern his plan. “But everyone has a presence on Xur. It is one of the few recognized neutral worlds. They might have someone there who can relay a message.”

  “Exactly,” said Ravenwood. He looked over the console in front of him. “Now, please tell me how I can send a transmission to Xur. I have the addressee’s code.”

  “What the hell’s going on, old man?” asked Cap. “What transmission are you going to send?”

  “At this point, the less you know, the better.”

  Cap touched a few icons, causing the console in front of Ravenwood to light up. “What language do you want?”

  “Standard Malorian is fine.”

  As Ravenwood quickly drafted his communication, Lena directed Cap’s attention to several icons blinking on a screen to her left.

  “You seeing what I’m seeing?” she asked.

  “Yep. Hey, Ravenwood?”

  “Yes Cap,” replied Ravenwood, his eyes focused on the console as he quickly keyed his message.

  “Do you know why two Lycian fighters are hot on our tail?”

  “And ordering us to come to an immediate stop,” added Lena.

  “Ignore them,” said Ravenwood, seemingly unperturbed. “How fast are we going?”

  “Pretty fast.”

  “Is the gate activated with the course to Xur set?”

  “Yeah, but the Tyserian port facility can shut it down if they want to.”

  “Then I suggest you get us through before they do.”

  “Are you sure about this?” asked Beth. “The Dewar just voted to accept Earth into the Trade Federation. This is a bad start to our new relationship.”

  Several particle beam blasts flashed by the Drake.

  “Their firing on us!” shouted Cap. “What the hell is going on, Ravenwood? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for getting in trouble. But if there’s risk of death, I’d like to know why.”

  Ravenwood hit a final key to send the message. “Point well taken, Commander. We are engaging in what might be described as asymmetrical diplomacy.”

  “Asymmetrical what?”

  Lena grinned at Cap and laughed. “He’s breaking the rules, Cap. You should appreciate that.” She looked at Ravenwood. “This is an unsanctioned mission, right? The UEC doesn’t know about this trip to Xur, and the Lycians don’t want us to go.”

  “They do not, at least certain elements among the Lycians do not. You see, I just had a very interesting conversation with a captive Sahiradin drone. Though difficult to comprehend, it told me a tale that, if true, casts the events of the past few years in a very new light. We are going to Xur to put a few plans in motion.”

  “And if we do confirm what the drone told you, what then?” asked Lena.

  “Then we will be armed with the most potent weapon in the universe – the truth! The more I learn, the more I see that nothing is as it seems in this war. There are wheels within wheels, my dear. If we are to unravel this mystery and achieve true victory, we must expose those wheels and learn who pulls the levers that control them.”

  As the Drake entered the silvery sphere of the open gate, the two pursuing Aculae fired once more, but the particle beams had no effect. The Drake disappeared in a flash and the energy blasts passed through empty space.

  Chapter 44

  Under the stars we walk, our faces to the sky,

  Under a sparkling dome of light we sing, you and I.

  Entranced, beguiled we delight in deep night’s charm

  Under the stars we dance together, twirling arm in arm

  - Anonymous. “Under the Stars”.

  Kane wound his way through a thicket of witch hazel and boxwood until he was just a few paces from the edge of the clearing where hundreds of people had assembled into numerous small groups. He and Carlos had left the horses they had acquired in a little clearing about two hundred meters behind them. The sound of small drums, wooden flutes, and stringed instruments filtered through the night air. It was coming from ahead of them where bonfires illuminated the surrounding forest with dancing yellow light. They heard laughing, singing voices which mingled with the firelight and sparks as they rose into to the star-filled sky above.

  They entered the clearing and saw groups of children chasing each other while their elders sat on logs or rocks and chatted with one another. A dance circle had formed in the center of the large clearing where men, women, and children swayed and twirled to the music.

  Kane looked at Carlos and nodded with his head toward the assembly and proceeded toward the center where the majority of people had gathered. A few people noticed their arrival, but they did not seem surprised or alarmed and quickly returned to their conversations. A group of children ran past Carlos, squeaking with joy and excitement, momentarily weaving the newcomers into their game of chase and catch.

  As the two men progressed across the field, one of the older people sitting on a log near the center of the clearing waved for Kane to join them. When they arrived, Kane slipped his pack from off his back and set it on the ground near a low stump. Carlos did likewise. An older man with a tangled graying beard, hazel-colored eyes, and a weather-worn face stood up from the midst of older people.

  “So the King of the Travelers has come to meet his subjects,” said the man derisively. Looking at Carlos, he said, “And he’s brought along his squire, Carlos. Or are you still Attika’s bootlick?”

  Carlos was about to respond, but Kane spoke first. “And Mordechai, the Prophet of the Wild Woods is here to greet us. It warms my heart.”

  The other man scowled upon hearing Kane’s words. Then he looked at the group of people sitting near the fire and pointed at Kane.

  “Our king has a sense of humor,” he said without amusement.

  One or two of the seated people smiled but did not speak. Several of them looked at Kane’s pack on the ground and noted a rifle barrel protruding from its opening. Mordechai followed their eyes to the rifle. Then he looked at Kane. Using his index finger, he reached out and slowly parted Kane’s long, dark coat. His eyes dropped down to see the sword hanging from his hip.

  “The King has his dragon slayer,” he said. He nodded his head toward the backpack and said, “And his assassin’s rifle.”

  Kane smiled despite the thinly veiled mockery directed toward him and reached down to pull the rifle from the backpack. He rotated the collapsed stock outward, locked it in place, and handed the weapon Mordechai, who accepted it with both hands.

  Kane casually pointed at the gun. “It’s a good hunting rifle, Mordechai. And the collapsible stock makes it easy to pack.”

  Mordechai eyed Kane suspiciously. “You don’t say?”

  “Keep it,” said Kane with a smile. He looked around at the gathering of people. “So this is how Traveler conclaves look now that Harken’s gone - in the open with music and bonfires. Much better than the secret, hidden ones of the past.”

  Mordechai scratched his tangled beard and shared a few looks with his fellow Travelers. Then he handed the rifle back to Kane, who reluctantly accepted it.

  “What d’ya want, Kane?” asked Mordechai. “Harkin’s gone. The Guardians are gone. What now?”

  Kane looked down at the rifle and frowned before collapsing the stock and slipping it back into his backpack.

  “Linsky’s escaped,” he said as he glanced at the dozens of fires sprinkled throughout the clearing and the cheerful people around them. There were at least a thousand people gathered in the wide field, many more Travelers than had ever dared come together in the past.

  Several of the Travelers exchanged surprised, worried looks upon hearing Kane’s announcement, but Mordechai, the so-called Prophet of the Wild Wood, folded his arms across his chest and assumed a defiant stance.

  “So what?” he said. “Linsky and his Stormer bastards may be a pain in the ass to the new government, but he’s no threat to us Travelers.”

  Kane nodded his head. “There’s more to tell.”

  “Like what?”
>
  “Attika’s dead, and it was Harkin who freed Linsky.”

  One of the men sitting near the fire looked sharply at Kane. “Harkin’s back?” he asked nervously. “When? Where is he now?”

  “How’s that possible?” asked Mordechai incredulously, raising his hand toward the man to silence him.

  “Harken’s working with the Sahiradin,” replied Kane. “You know a Sahiradin ship came for him the night the Capitol District fell. Harken used alien technology to free Linsky as part of his plan to return, probably with an army of Sahiradin behind him. He used the same trick to ambush Attika and kill her. Now Linsky’s Storm Front bastards are conducting raids all across the country.”

  Mordechai leaned to the side and spat on the ground. “Sahiradin…Lycians…When are we gonna be rid of these damn aliens? What do the Sahiradin want with us anyway? We ain’t worth the trouble of conquerin’. We got nothin’ worth havin’.”

  “What does anyone with more power want from someone with less power?” asked Carlos. “They want to control us, force us to live by their rules. That’s why we have to fight!”

  “Carlos is right,” said Kane. “We have to resist them.”

  “What do you mean ‘we have to resist ‘em’?” asked Mordechai. “You ain’t one of us Kane! You ain’t no Traveler. We helped you run guns for Carlos and his Septemberist friends. We spied for ya. We passed messages. And more than a few of us got caught or killed without ever givin’ ya up. But I guess that wasn’t enough for ya, was it, King Kane? Now you want us to risk our lives fer ya again. Ain’t that right?”

  “No,” interjected Carlos heatedly. “We want you to risk your lives for yourselves and your children.”

  “So says Carlos, Attika’s heir to the throne,” chided Mordechai. “What’s the matter? You afraid Harkin’s gunna take yer crown? Travelers live their lives simple. We don’t try to control things. We take what life offers without tryin’ to force it to give us things we don’t need. Whatever it is you two are fishin’ around for, don’t look to the Travelers for help no more.”