by Natalie Grey
Barnabas smiled, but it seemed a bit distant to Aebura. “I hope to make this planet safe in time for the settlers who get here. They are counting on me.” He stood. “I must go. Be well, Aebura. I hope to be back with good news very soon.”
“Barnabas?”
Barnabas turned with a smile. “Yes, Aebura?”
“What is ‘Pepsi?’ Is it a matter of honor? Is it a kind of injustice?”
To her surprise and relief, Barnabas began to laugh. He held his sides and doubled over, gasping for air. Finally he stood up and wiped his eyes. “Oh, my. I see you weren’t joking when you said members of the former Etheric Empire had been here. Pepsi is... No, it’s not a matter of honor or injustice, it’s just a drink.” He blinked one eyelid shut at her. “But if you ever meet the Empress, don’t tell her I said that. She takes the supremacy of Coca-Cola very seriously.”
He was still chuckling to himself when he disappeared, and Aebura stared after him with her head tilted to the side curiously. She was reassured, but even more certain now that humans took very strange things seriously.
She wrinkled her nose. After all, it wasn’t like this was the debate between hakoj juice and iterze juice. This was just a silly argument about something that didn’t matter at all.
Lan paced around his little hut.
The papers had been shoved back into the safe unorganized and threatened to spill out while he slammed the door shut. He couldn’t look at them. Just seeing them—seeing all the evidence—made him want to burn everything.
Was it time to leave?
He had hoped to have a few years here to build up a good nest egg. He didn’t like being here, but he wanted to get all he could while he could. Another opportunity like this was unlikely to fall into his lap any time soon.
He should never have sent Gar to the city. At the time he’d thought there was no one he could trust quite so well, and he was also afraid that the vice-overseer would take over if he himself left, but maybe Lan should have gone himself. He could just have run away entirely if Gar had taken over, and if he had?
If he had, Gar wouldn’t know about the mines being shut down. Lan was sure now that Gar had really learned about everything on the trip, no matter how he’d played it off. He’d been frustrated before he went to Tethra, but he hadn’t displayed any signs of wanting a bigger share.
Until the other day. Lan shot a resentful look in the direction of the jail. He would have given Gar something for his trouble. He would even have taken him along when it was time to go.
Or would he? He confronted the guilty thought that he had chosen not to offer Gar more money.
No, he wouldn’t have helped Gar. In reality, he’d been planning to alter the records so it looked like Gar had always been in charge. By the time Gar convinced them of the truth, Lan would have been long gone.
On some level, Gar must have figured that out.
Well, he wouldn’t be any more trouble. He was locked up in the jail and—
And what if he told people the truth? Lan ran to the radio and paged the guard captain. The minutes before he appeared were agonizing.
“How is Venfirdri Gar?” Lan asked abruptly.
“I have heard no reports from the jail, sir.” The captain looked wary. “I assume all is well. We put him in the new building alone, sir. We didn’t want you to think we were coddling him, but you said you wanted to deal with him yourself. We thought the other prisoners might hurt him.”
Lan sank into a chair, shoulders sagging with relief. Gar didn’t have anyone to talk to. That was good.
“I want him totally alone,” he told the captain. Hopefully the male would think this was just a punishment, so he added, “Just him and his thoughts. No distractions.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll have the guards stationed outside.”
“Thank you, Captain. You may go.”
Lan tapped his fingers on the desk as he considered what to do next. He should just leave tonight. He should call for a flight out of Tethra and slip away while everyone was waiting for him to make a decision about Gar. It would be the safest thing to do.
But he didn’t want to give this up…not yet.
The little voice in his head that had told him to take the mine’s radios down was now telling him not to walk away while there was still profit to be had. An opportunity like this only came along once or twice in a lifetime, it said, and reminded him that there was no gain without risk.
Which meant that he needed to make a different call.
He opened a channel to one of his contacts in Tethra, an old Brakalon who was unusually pragmatic compared to the other Brakalons Lan had met over the years.
“What is it?” His voice was grumpy when he answered.
“I want to purchase your services,” Lan told him simply. He avoided specifics and didn’t use the word need. He wasn’t going to let Jutkelon hear weakness. He tried to sound bored. “Some of the workers think they can be clever and break out. I want to show them that the guards they see aren’t the only things they have to contend with.”
“Ah,” Jutkelon replied contemplatively. “A wise strategy. A show of force can be very effective, but not all of my clients understand that.”
Lan smiled thinly and did not respond to the compliment. He was used to salespersons trying to flatter him. “How much?”
“How many do you want?”
“You know how many workers and guards we have. Tell me what you think I’ll need and I’ll consider it.”
Jutkelon laughed a little under his breath, but after a moment of humming and grumbling to himself he produced a number that Lan found surprisingly reasonable.
“Done,” Lan confirmed promptly.
“You want them at the mine?”
“No. I’ll send you details.”
Lan cut the call with the appropriate pleasantries—so tedious, but Jutkelon was a resource to be cultivated—and considered.
No. He was not willing to leave just yet. This was his mine. He’d staked his claim, and he was going to keep it. Let them try to take it. He had dozens of guards, and really—what could one tiny alien do against dozens of guards?
Chapter Fifteen
Gar sat alone in his cell and faced the unpleasant realization that he was the weak link in everyone’s plans, and therefore almost indisputably expendable.
He would say he wasn’t sure where he’d gone wrong, but that wasn’t true. He could think of any number of places. The first was when he’d strode confidently into the company offices on Tedrift Station, determined to get a job no matter what it was. The second was when he’d begun following Lan’s lead a few months back.
The third, unfortunately, was when he had joined up with Barnabas.
The facts spoke for themselves. The way Gar saw it, he should have chosen one or the other. If he had stuck with Lan, the two of them might have been able to kill Barnabas. For instance, he could have hit the human with cannon fire the second he walked through the gates. Maybe they could have put poison into his drink.
Had anyone remotely familiar with the Etheric Empire been around at this point and privy to Gar’s thoughts, they could have told him how wrong he was.
Yes, as far as Gar was concerned, he’d messed up by picking both sides. He should have chosen one side and stuck to it. That would have been the best way not to end up a bloody smear on the wall.
He was still considering this when one of the Ubuara slipped through the window of his cell and dropped to the floor. It chittered at him in its own language for a moment in the way they started conversations.
Then, “I am Leiguba.”
Gar stared at him suspiciously. What would this Ubuara want? To get back at him for so many years of mistreatment? That made undeniable sense.
“Why were you arrested?” the Ubuara asked.
Gar gave a bitter laugh. “I worked for the human you saw in the town the other day. Lan caught me, and now I am here.”
“Why did you work for the human?”
Leiguba asked him.
He was genuinely curious. When Chogaru had told him the reason for Gar’s arrest Leiguba had not believed him. Never once in his time here had Leiguba seen Gar show any consideration for anyone else. Since the Ubuara believed absolutely that Barnabas was here to help them, that meant Gar was not working for him. If anything, Leiguba had come here to prove that Chogaru had been wrong.
Now it seemed the Nekubi had been wrong about everything.
“I wanted to save my own skin,” Gar replied. He lifted his thin Luvendi shoulders in a hopeless shrug. “Everything you have heard about humans is true.”
“I’ve never heard anything about humans. They can talk mind to mind, you know.”
“They can?” Gar briefly looked interested, then lapsed back into despair. “I suppose nothing about them would surprise me at this point. He can run impossibly fast for his height. His eyes glow red.”
Leiguba stared at him, wide-eyed.
“So when he confronted me, I made a bargain,” Gar said. “I dressed it up nicely for myself. I told myself I was becoming a better person; that I wanted to help him because it was the right thing to do. I told myself I wanted to prove myself to him so that he would include me in other things he had planned.”
“It was not true?”
“No. I only wanted to save my own life. I was a coward. He told me that the punishment for my crime was death and I tried to be brave, but I was afraid to die. I can see now that I would have said anything, believed anything, to survive.” Gar looked at Leiguba.
Leiguba tried not to shudder. Luvendi were difficult to look at. Everyone knew they had two hearts, and they had two pupils in their eyes too. People shied away from Luvendi because those eyes were so hard to look at. They looked wrong.
Gar’s were even weirder than most, in that the color around the pupils was brighter than normal for a Luvendi. It was a bright blue-green that was remarkable to any alien species looking at it. The workers had all discussed this. When you had to stare at his strange eyes you wanted to rub your own.
So Leiguba tried to think of something to say to distract himself.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to tell Lan what was going on? He can call on many guards. Surely Barnabas couldn’t take them all on.”
Gar smiled again, although he still looked bitter. “Yes, in hindsight it’s clear. At the time…”
Leiguba did not let him get out of answering. “At the time?” he asked pointedly.
“At the time I thought I was a better person than I have turned out to be,” Gar declared flatly.
“I do not understand why fearing death would make you a bad person,” Leiguba told him. “We do not want to die either. It is why we do not simply rise up and fight the guards. It is why there are guards. Most people fear death. I have seen you exhibit many poor qualities during my time here, but not cowardice.”
Gar stared at him intently. “Why are you here, Ubuara?”
“’Leiguba.’ I am here to help you. You helped Barnabas, and it is possible that you could help him even more if you were to get out of here.”
Gar stared at him, those strange pupils glittering in the darkness. “It would be unwise,” he admitted finally, “to trust me.”
“I know,” Leiguba agreed. “But I will do it anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because… No, I do not need to tell you why.” The truth was, Leiguba knew he had no reason to trust Gar. The Luvendi was right.
But he was going to do so anyway. He had made up his mind when he’d come here.
Anyway, what was the worst he could do now?
Leiguba leaned forward. “Listen closely. In two minutes your door will open, and you must go out the back entrance of the hut. I’ll distract the guards. When you get out, you’ll…”
Lan looked at the group of mercenaries and gave a pleased nod. They were a variety of species: mostly Brakalons, but there were even a few Shrillexians. They would be especially useful for this show of force.
The group stood at attention in the road wearing basic uniforms—just brown pants and a shirt, but in Lan’s experience, even that was unusual in mercenary companies. Out here, where there were not many luxuries or standards, any person with a gun could hire themselves out as a mercenary.
Jutkelon had higher standards, and he’d trained them all well. Each had a weapon which was clearly well-used and regularly cleaned, and they did not mill around or look contemptuously at Lan.
“They will take your orders,” Jutkelon told him without a hint of evasiveness in his voice. “You don’t need to worry. I’ve culled those who were cowards, or thought they should be giving the orders.”
It was clear from his tone just how he’d culled them, and Lan smiled in appreciation. Too few leaders these days seemed to be willing to do what must be done, and too many tolerated people asking questions.
Perhaps he should take Jutkelon with him when he left, but he had the suspicion that the Brakalon would want to stay here and take any contracts he chose, not be tied to one client. On a planet growing as rapidly as Devon, there would be too many opportunities for someone like Jutkelon to pass them up.
“What’s your plan?” Jutkelon asked now. “You tell me, and I’ll communicate it to them.”
The mercenaries were still waiting in the road for the two males to finish their conversation, but they did not fidget. Lan knew this was just advertising, but he was still pleased by it. Discipline in a soldier was a good thing.
“The camp is roughly square,” Lan told him. “I want guards surrounding every building and all around the walls so that no one thinks they can sneak anywhere. We want them in alleys, at the entrances to the mine…anywhere they should be. If there’s a confrontation, that is. They might just be stupid enough to try that.”
“Hmmm.” Jutkelon considered. “So the goal is to have a clear presence and rapid response if necessary.” He handed Lan his staff and pointed to the dirt road. “Draw me a map of the town and mark the guard towers.”
Lan drew, glad that he did not need to touch the ground. He hated the dust in the mountains, but the swamp surrounding Tethra was even worse.
He was not going to miss this place when it came time to leave.
Jutkelon watched the drawing take shape, and then he looked at the assembled group and barked, “Squad leaders!”
Six aliens stepped over to Jutkelon, though each gave Lan a respectful nod.
Someday, Lan decided, he would have his own army. He liked having the luxuries of life—who wouldn’t?—but there was something especially satisfying about having heavily-armed soldiers standing ready to take your orders.
“Kalach, your squad will take this street.” Jutkelon drew a faint line down the street that anchored the main gate. “If there’s an attack, collect at the gates before advancing. Gressa and Nuez, your squads will concentrate here. It’s your task to keep anyone from getting up the hill to the overseer’s hut. Dodav and Ghal’z, your teams will be here and here. Your task is to assess whether you’re needed at the mine or in the central square. If it’s going to be both, Ghal’z will take his soldiers to the square, and Dodav’s will go to the mine. Araviha, you station your soldiers in the square, itself. You’ll be working with the guards who are already there. I’ll tell the guard captain that.” He looked at Lan. “Is Heddoran still in charge?”
Lan nodded, but then hesitated slightly. He couldn’t remember the guard captain changing, but then this was the sort of thing Gar usually handled.
Damn that male and his betrayal.
Jutkelon saw the flicker in his face. “Do you have concerns about the guards who are already there?”
Lan considered that.
“Before this morning I would have said no,” he stated finally. “But my vice-overseer has apparently been working against me, and a strange alien came to see us—someone the guard captain obviously respects, even though he might be a threat.”
“Very well.” Jutkelon narrowed his
eyes as he thought. “Ghal’z, have your squad join Araviha’s in the city square, then. I’ll have more soldiers on alert to fly in immediately if we need them. Everyone—if you face armed resistance from the guards…” He looked at Lan to determine how he would finish that sentence.
“Kill them,” Lan said flatly.
“Kill them,” Jutkelon echoed.
To Lan’s relief, the soldiers nodded at once. It didn’t seem to bother them at all to be taking on their fellow guards from Jutkelon’s company. Then again, Lan supposed that facing down someone you knew must be a common occurrence for a mercenary.
“If you have no other questions,” he told Jutkelon, “they can set out at once.”
“Of course. I have recommendations for the number of provisions to buy, and for a food merchant in Tethra who keeps her mouth shut.” Jutkelon handed over a piece of paper.
“Excellent.” Lan smiled and walked to his private hopper. “I’ll meet you all back at the town.”
Aebura was wiping down the bar when a thought flashed into her mind: soldiers massing by the west road, heading into the mountains. Going to the mines, maybe?
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. Barnabas had to be told.
But how to reach him? She sent out the information as loudly as she could to any Ubuara nearby.
Find me the human named Barnabas, or if you can’t, find me Carter Eastbourne. He’s lodging with Diviak down near the gambling halls. She had told the others that the Ranger was going to help the Ubuara still enslaved, and the whole network had been alert for two days.
Barnabas had to know what he was walking into. Aebura had no doubts at all that those soldiers worked for Venfaldri Lan. He was going to act soon. She paced, her tail lashing back and forth. What to do, what to do?
A thought occurred to her. When Barnabas had come here, he’d said he was going to free the mine soon. Perhaps this wasn’t Lan’s response to that, but rather Barnabas had learned about the soldiers before they had left and was already fixing things?
