by Wayne Basta
Gu’od made the mistake of catching her eye, and Saracasi took it as an opportunity to speak her mind. “Well, this was a brilliant plan,” she said, knowing she sounded unnecessarily confrontational.
“It will all work out. We just have to trust in the balance of the universe. Not all problems are solved by confronting them head on,” Gu’od replied calmly.
The Ni’jar philosophy Gu’od recited grated on her already frayed nerves. Her brother said similar things, saying she was too quick to take action
“You can’t blame Gu’od for this,” Gamaly said defensively.
Gamaly had more trust in Gu’od than she did. It only made sense; the pair was married. To Saracasi, though, at the moment, it just appeared to be blind stupidity.
“I can’t? He was the one who just surrendered for all of us. Who should I blame?”
“How about Lahkaba?” Gamaly demanded.
Next to her, Lahkaba looked anxious at getting pulled into the middle of their dispute. To Saracasi’s mind, he should have. Gu’od may have surrendered without a fight, but it was Lahkaba who had gotten them into this particular mess. If he had just kept his mouth closed, they would have been run out of town as suspected smugglers, but they wouldn’t have been arrested – not merely on the suspicion of smuggling.
But she was to angry and didn’t feel like backing down from Gamaly, even though she knew it was a pointless argument. “You’re just trying to deflect blame away from your perfect husband. He couldn’t have possibly done anything wrong here,” Saracasi said, her voice childishly sarcastic.
“When he did nothing wrong, you bet I am. You’d rather we gunned down a crowd of innocent people? Maybe you were more involved in that riot than you claim?” Gamaly snapped back coldly.
Saracasi’s eyes flashed with renewed anger. “Why would you care? You’re just a low-life thief. You’re only defending him because he’s stooping so low as to stay with you.”
Sadness crossed Gamaly’s face, and Saracasi realized she had gone too far. It had been a long time since she had argued with anyone besides her brother, and arguments with siblings didn’t have the same boundaries as they did with other people.
An apology hung on the edge of her lips but didn’t come out. Part of her didn’t want to apologize until Gamaly did.
Silence replaced the cold intensity between the two women. Eventually, they went back to ignoring each other, and Saracasi went back to pacing.
Her annoyance abated as time passed, until she felt more ashamed than angry. She tried to ignore it and consider the larger predicament. It would still be several hours before Maarkean and Zeric headed back to the ship. They weren’t even due to have started back yet themselves. They would have to remain here for at least another day and would have to rely on Maarkean and Zeric to save them from prison. Again.
The door down the hallway opened, interrupting Saracasi’s pacing. Now in his crisp, grey uniform, the sheriff who had brought them here came in escorting another Notha. Shorter than the sheriff and much younger, the second Notha looked vaguely familiar to Saracasi. The pattern of his fur – brown with white patches – struck her as something she had seen before, but she could not place it.
Walking up to the cell, the sheriff unlocked it, and the other Notha stepped inside. Looking uncertain, the sheriff said, “You sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“Yes, thank you, Sheriff. You were the one who said they came with you peacefully. I have no reason to suspect I am in any danger.”
“Very well. I’ll be right outside,” the sheriff said and then turned and headed back out of the room.
The four of them stared at the new Notha for a moment in silence. The open door to their cell offered Saracasi a tempting chance at freedom. There was just one Notha, the sheriff and an unknown number of deputies between her and that freedom. She squashed that thought; if Gu’od hadn’t been willing to fight their way out when they were armed, he would be unlikely to do it now.
Finally, Lahkaba broke the silence. “It’s good to see you again, Owrik.”
Surprise broke across Saracasi’s face. “You know him?”
Reluctantly, Lahkaba nodded, and Owrik spoke. “We were representatives together in the first Kreogh Sector Congress.”
The surprise she had felt at the two knowing each other was overshadowed by this news. Up until now, she had been under the impression that Lei-mey had been the only representative to the Congress in their group. She wondered what else they didn’t know about that group.
As if sensing the questions, Lahkaba reluctantly said, “Lei-mey and I were among Sulas’ representatives to the Kreogh Sector Congress that met earlier this year. Once we returned to Sulas, the Alliance governor of Sulas declared all of us rebels and traitors. The other three representatives were Terrans and Braz, so they were relatively safe and able to remain out of prison. As ‘aliens,’ Lei-mey and I were subject to arrest. Meyka was a friend of Lei-mey’s and offered us the safety of her friend Pasha’s home. I decided to keep my part secret when we met Maarkean and Zeric.”
Saracasi wanted to ask more questions, but she suppressed them for the moment. She was sure Maarkean would have a whole block of them himself. Oddly, she felt no annoyance at Lahkaba’s omission, but she did feel a greater respect for the man. Those representatives had put themselves in danger, even if their identities had been kept mostly secret.
“You certainly have moved up in the world,” Owrik said with a half smile that gave way to a more serious tone. “This was exactly why Dantyne did not side with you on the more aggressive stance.”
“Afraid of a little prison time?” Lahkaba asked acidly. There was clearly some history here Saracasi did not understand.
“Yes,” Owrik said honestly. “But we didn’t quite understand what it was you were facing on Sulas. Our disagreements here on Dantyne are mostly economic in nature. Terrans and Braz are a minority here, and in our day-to-day lives, we are pretty much left alone. We have no prisons here like Olan.”
After a moment’s pause in which his tail went limp and his ears drooped in what looked like shame, Owrik continued, “But after the Congress was dismissed, two of my siblings, who were on Sulas, were thrown in there. I can only assume it was because of my participation in the Congress, but from what I hear, it could be just because they were Notha.”
Suddenly, Saracasi recognized where she had seen the color pattern on Owrik. “La’ari and Isaxo.”
Surprised, Owrik turned to her. “Yes, you know them?”
She nodded. “Yes, they helped us during the escape. Isaxo is a pretty good pilot, and La’ari knows her way around an engine room.”
“La’ari was on Sulas studying starship design at Revard University. Isaxo was visiting,” Owrik said. “What became of them? I have had no news. This is the first sign I’ve had that they are still alive.”
“They are well,” Saracasi said. “When we left Sulas, we went to a secret location. Unfortunately, it has limited space travel, so they wouldn’t have been able to get many messages out. But they were both instrumental in our escape and were doing well when last I saw them, about a month ago.”
Looking relieved, Owrik nodded. “You do not know the weight you have lifted from me. And the debt I owe. Are you Maarkean? I had heard he was Braz, but I was under the impression that he… was a he.”
Saracasi laughed. She supposed it would be as hard for other species to tell Braz genders and name genders apart as it was for her to do with them. “No, I am his sister, though.”
“You were in the prison as well,” Owrik said. “So all Braz were not immune from imprisonment there. I only wish I had the courage your brother did when it came to the safety of my siblings.”
Taking the initiative, Lahkaba stepped forward. “You were light-years away and unable to help them before. But now you can. Get us out of here. I know you didn’t want to escalate matters. If you want, we’ll leave the planet… just get us out.”
Owrik considered Lah
kaba. “Despite what I may feel toward you and what you all have done, you are technically criminals. If I see to your release, we would risk retaliation.”
Saracasi’s heart dropped. Things had been going well. An influential Notha, who knew Lahkaba, and whose siblings they had rescued, had come to see them. It had seemed too good to be true. Now she knew it was.
“Come on, Owrik,” Lahkaba said, his voice rising. “Your fellow delegates may have wanted to keep things calm and not do anything drastic. But you wanted to agree with us. I know you did. And you still do.”
Owrik appeared ready to argue with Lahkaba, but his shaggy shoulders dropped and he nodded. “There is no point in arguing with you here. I was a representative for my people before. But now I am just a private citizen. Yes, I think we need to do something more direct against the Alliance’s stranglehold on us. Petitions, even united ones, will get us nowhere. I personally applaud what Maarkean did in attacking the prison.
“It is a contentious issue here. Many people are quite appalled at the violence and death that the attack caused. They feel it was the wrong thing to do. But there are just as many of us who feel it was a necessary first step to waking the population up to the evils of the Alliance. So yes, I agree with you, and I wish I did not have to see you locked up. I wish you could be out there making more statements like that.”
With more eloquence and passion than Saracasi thought possible, Lahkaba put his arm on Owrik’s shoulder and spoke. “So help us. The freeing of Olan was a wake-up call for people like you. The time to take action is now. Maarkean Ocaitchi and Zeric Dustlighter are out there right now, planning further action against the Alliance’s oppression. But they need our help. They need your help.”
Despite Lahkaba’s words, Owrik shook his head and appeared to be about to say no. But to Saracasi’s relief, he didn’t speak right away. He seemed to lose himself in thought. Then he suddenly started nodding his head enthusiastically.
“You’re right. If I allow you to remain in here, I will just be condoning the people who put my brother and sister into prison for the crime of being Notha. I cannot abide that. Come with me, we’re leaving.”
It took her a second to realize that Owrik was serious. He stepped back from the open prison door and gestured for them to follow him. She exchanged a look with Gamaly and Gu’od, their earlier animosity forgotten in the wake of the surprising turn of events.
A quiet voice in her head pointed out that this might end up proving Gu’od right.
Lahkaba was the first to follow Owrik, and Saracasi needed no more encouragement. They proceeded down the short corridor of holding cells and entered the building’s main room. There, they found the local sheriff and two deputies.
“Sheriff,” Owrik began, “these people are official representatives from the Kreogh Sector Congress. They are here under the protection of the Dantyne Parliament.”
“Mr. Mahon,” the sheriff began, “they are wanted by the Alliance. There is a sector-wide arrest warrant out for them.”
“Have they broken any Dantyne law?” Owrik asked.
“No, not that I am aware,” the sheriff admitted.
“Then under my authority as a member of Parliament, you are to ignore that arrest order,” Owrik demanded. The young Notha’s tail flicked subtly, giving the impression that he wasn’t someone to be messed with.
The sheriff exchanged a look with his two deputies, and Saracasi wasn’t sure which side they would come down on. She didn’t know anything about Dantyne law, but Alliance law made it clear that what Owrik was doing was illegal. He had no authority to dismiss an Alliance arrest warrant.
The sheriff must have decided differently, or simply not cared, because after a moment he nodded and stepped aside. “Sorry for the inconvenience, folks.”
Saracasi smiled at the sheriff and started to thank him. She stopped when Gamaly tried to do the same thing. The two women exchanged a look and then smiled.
Owrik then led them outside the sheriff’s office. Her second time in jail had ended better than the first.
Chapter Fourteen
“That was not a shortcut,” Maarkean complained.
Zeric let out a sigh. “It would have been if you hadn’t gotten stuck.”
“You mean if the path you told me to take hadn’t turned out to be a mud pit half a meter deep?” Maarkean retorted.
It had looked safe enough, Zeric thought. How was he supposed to know this planet had a plant that looked like normal grass that grew on top of loose mud? When Maarkean had stepped into it, his leg had sunk half its length into the mud and become firmly stuck. The suction was too great for Maarkean to pull himself out with his other leg. It had taken Zeric nearly an hour to figure out a way of pulling him out that didn’t result in him getting trapped as well.
The rest of the trip back from the Alliance outpost had been made in silence. Zeric had always thought naval officers, especially pilots, were too full of themselves. Maarkean’s annoyance at a little mud amused him. Served the man right, he thought.
Their scouting expedition had gone better than Zeric would have thought possible. They had approached cautiously at first, taking up position on a hill a few kilometers away. They had used binoculars to do a visual survey, and what they had seen had been like a gift, as Lah would say, from the Great One.
The outpost was essentially a storage depot. In one corner was a hangar and landing pad, but all of the bays had been closed. There was also a long vehicle garage and a building that looked like a warehouse. The only other buildings were a few small storage sheds, a barracks and a command building with an air traffic control tower.
The entire compound was surrounded by a high wall with sensor towers at each corner. There were also weapon emplacements at a few points around the perimeter. Zeric had identified anti-air and anti-ground weapons. But they had all been unmanned. From the look of things, the only manned guard posts appeared to be at the entrance, and they had only seen two guards on duty at any time.
In the four hours they had taken turns watching the compound from the hill, they had seen no perimeter patrols and only a handful of people moving about the base. The barracks was large enough to hold an entire battalion of soldiers, but during an afternoon physical training session, only a group of ten had participated. The only other large group had been playing a ball game on a court near the barracks.
Zeric had estimated that there was probably only a single platoon in the entire compound. Like any good military unit, they probably followed Galactic Standard Time and had four watches of five hours, one squad on watch with one other squad doing housekeeping assignments while the other two rested.
Maarkean had been skeptical of such a low number. With a base as big as it was, he had insisted that there had to be more troops. With a single platoon, there was no one to support or fly the aircraft, and a dozen other jobs would be left unfilled. Zeric had countered by pointing out that those jobs were, in fact, being left unfilled. There had been no vehicle activity and no one going on patrols, and most of the defense positions were unmanned. A squad of ten could man the primary positions.
As they approached the clearing where they had left the ship, Zeric heard suspicious noises and raised his fist in a signal. He was a little surprised when Maarkean stopped in-stantly and squatted down without a word. Apparently the flyboy wasn’t as useless on the ground as he had thought.
Creeping forward, Zeric tried to get a better view. Through a break in the brush, he could see the ship, but he also caught sight of several unusual animals. They resembled Terran ostriches, but were larger and had fewer feathers. Their beaks looked like they could do some damage if they wanted to.
Easing back a few yards, he moved to where Maarkean waited. He told him in a quiet whisper what he had seen.
Maarkean appeared unconcerned at first. “Wild herd probably.”
“They were wearing some kind of saddle. They weren’t wild,” Zeric replied. He realized he should have mentioned that b
efore.
“No signs of people?” Maarkean asked, drawing his pistol. He frowned when he found dried mud on the barrel.
“Aside from the domesticated animals, no,” Zeric said sarcastically.
“Casi and the others should have beaten us back by a wide margin,” Maarkean said as he rubbed the caked mud off his pistol. “Maybe they brought the animals. You said they were saddled.”
“They went to get transportation. Why would they get those things?”
“Cheaper?” Maarkean posited.
“We’ll never know sitting here. I’ll swing around to the right. You stay here. If you hear gunfire, come save my ass,” Zeric said with a wink.
As he moved away, he saw Maarkean shake his head. It wasn’t a great plan, Zeric admitted. But with just the two of them and no communication gear, their choices were limited. The creatures had blocked his view; he had been unable to tell if the ramp was up or down.
Moving cautiously, Zeric made his way around the clearing. He hoped the creatures were not carnivorous and partial to the scent of Terran. The fact that they were saddled reassured him somewhat. Very few meat-eating animals made good rides.
Once he thought he had gone far enough around, Zeric crept up to the edge of the brush again. From here, he could see that the ship’s boarding ramp was lowered. There were also some people sitting on it. Taking a closer look, he breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized Gamaly. The pistol worn at her side reassured him she wasn’t a prisoner.
Trudging out of the brush, he called loudly, hoping Maarkean would hear him, “Gamaly, what’s with the herd?”
His sudden shout startled the creatures, and they all started making a honking noise and shifting nervously. The noise covered up any reply Gamaly gave. Several other people emerged from the ship at the commotion. Most Zeric recognized, but there were two unknown Nothas among them.
Emerging from around the herd, Maarkean made a sloshing sound with one muddy boot as he approached the ship. When he caught sight of the Nothas, he looked exceedingly displeased. Preemptively, Saracasi went out to meet him. As Zeric got closer, the sound of shouting was heard in pieces over the sounds of the honking animals.
