Honor the Threat (The Revelations Cycle Book 12)

by Kevin Ikenberry

  Hak-Chet said nothing and tried to keep a straight face. Thoughts betrayed him, and he spoke almost without thinking about the consequences. “You wanted Jessica to fail, not more than six months ago, Rsach.”

  The Guild Master sighed. “I did, and I said so. At the time, I meant every word. What is it you say? Seeing is believing? Peacemaker Francis has done everything we’ve asked, to the best of her ability. Every time we’ve tested her, she’s come through with a resiliency and determination seldom seen. The Four Horsemen do the same thing. What if all the Human mercenary companies mustered the same character? Human leaders would overrun the Mercenary Guild. That would most certainly change the way the galaxy runs.”

  “And that’s exactly why they’ve gone after Jessica. How long until they go after Earth?”

  Rsach sighed. “I fear, old friend, they are doing so, as we speak.”

  * * *

  Weqq

  In the black haze, there was movement. A shuffling, catching jerk and flow reverberated through her as she swam up from unconsciousness to a faint, distant reality. There was fading light beyond her eyelids, and as Jessica blinked them open, she struggled to comprehend the scene. Dense brush flitted by, out of reach. Flowering bushes with blossoms more bright and colorful than she’d ever seen replaced spiky fronds like palm trees on acid. As she stared, a dull ache exploded into white-hot pain on the side of her head. She mashed her eyes closed and waited for the pain to ebb. As it did, she felt herself slipping into sleep and let it come over her like a warm blanket.

  Again, movement shook her awake, but as she struggled to open her eyes, wet, matted hair covered her face. She reached to smooth it away and found her arms bound tightly at the elbows. She thrashed against her bonds until a wave of nausea rose and pushed every other sensation away. Night had fallen, and the shuffling movement lulled her and sickened her. Her vision and stomach reeled in opposite directions, and Jessica closed her eyes again and sought sleep. Sometime later, she awoke to the squeaking calls of birds in the high jungle canopy, but it was dark, and her bonds would not loosen. As she returned to sleep, Jessica remembered the bright flash of the explosion and her flight off the wall into the jungle.

  What happened? As soon as her mind formed the thought, it was quiet again, and she drifted into a droning, barely conscious haze.

  Cold water on her face shocked her out of sleep with a wide-eyed gasp. Daylight had come, and it was either early morning or dusk as she could tell by the long shadows around her. The shuffling was there, both comforting and disconcerting. Craning her head forward, Jessica blinked against the ache in her temples and looked down at her body.

  What the fuck was going on?

  She was wrapped in wide, thick leaves like a mummy, except for her arms, which were bound by a dark brown rope that also wrapped around her waist. She lay inside a triangular shaped sled. She remembered seeing them back in elementary school, a lifetime before. The name of the thing escaped her, but its purpose was to drag supplies and people.

  A travois, she remembered in a flash. Someone was pulling her. Jessica turned her head, but she couldn’t see anything except dark green vegetation interspersed with early morning sun and bursts of blurred color sliding past. Her mouth was dry, and it took her a moment to work up enough saliva to try and moisten it. She turned again, but saw nothing past the rails of the travois. Around her, the jungle creatures squawked and called out in wild abandon. There was nothing in the cacophony to suggest the compound was nearby. No explosions or weapons fire or heavy footfalls of CASPers meant she was far away from it, and likely getting further away every second.

  “Hey!”

  There was no response, not even a hesitation in the glide of the travois. She turned her head and raised her voice a little, but she didn’t want to scream and give away her position in case the situation was different than she surmised.

  “Hey!”

  The sled hitched once and slowed but did not stop. Jessica thrashed against the ropes and gritted her teeth against the awful pain in her temples caused by the sudden movement.

  “Hey! Stop!” she cried out. “Get me off this thing!”

  The sled lurched hard to one side, throwing her weight clearly to the left, and the sled threatened to topple over.

  Shit!

  Just as quickly, the sled righted, but then it slammed to a sudden stop, thumping her aching head into the crosspieces of the frame. She winced and closed her eyes. Despite the fresh blossom of pain along the right side of her head, she realized the sled wasn’t moving, and she could hear breathing by her side. The deep, huffing sound was unlike anything she’d ever heard. Jessica opened her eyes and turned her head slightly. Her mouth fell open, and her breath caught in her chest.

  Gods!

  The TriRusk male looked at her with impassive eyes. Its gray and white fur was matted and wet, and she could smell something like a wet dog. Cold, black eyes studied her, then slowly blinked. The triceratops-like flaring skull was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Elongated to a rounded chin, the TriRusk’s nostrils were wide, and its breath noisy. The creature reminded Jessica of a cow, except for its strange head and the way it walked on its hands like a primate. Every movement seemed achingly slow and methodical. It looked at her with disdain and innate boredom.

  “My name is Peacemaker—” The TriRusk turned away from her. “Hey! Hey! Untie me, right now!”

  The TriRusk went back to the handles of the sled. Jessica jerked against the restraints and felt a new pain in her right arm. The dull, throbbing ache seemed to cover her entire bicep area. She looked down and saw a thick bandage of leaves. They were a different color and texture than the ones securing her to the travois. A poultice?

  She strained again to the see the TriRusk as the sled accelerated to the familiar, shuffling pace from before. “Hey! I said I’m a Peacemaker! Now stop!”

  Nothing happened.

  “Godsdamnit! I said stop!” she yelled, and the sled fell to the ground. Jessica tried to brace herself, but the impact jarred her head into the travois poles and white-hot pain rushed through her arm. “Ow! What the—”

  The TriRusk appeared at her side and clamped a large, hairy fist over her mouth. Can’t breathe! Jessica thrashed against it, trying to yell out, but the fist muffled everything. She tried to breath, pulling in the muddy, wet scent of the TriRusk along with a precious wisp of air. The beast looked down at her and lowered its face to hers. She quieted and stared up into the wide-set eyes. With a snort, the TriRusk let go of her mouth.

  “Listen to me you piece of—”

  The TriRusk’s paw clamped down again, harder. She stopped talking, and the paw moved away. Their eyes met, and Jessica blinked hers into focus against the swimming nausea in her head. She swallowed and tried to remember first contact protocols, but her addled brain wouldn’t cooperate.

  “Can you understand me?” she asked in English. The TriRusk’s expression did not change. She tried greetings from Veetanho to Besquith with no visible reaction from the lumbering beast. It merely continued to breathe loudly and snort on occasion. “You have no idea what I’m saying do you?”

  Nothing.

  “Let me go.” Jessica struggled against her bonds. The TriRusk looked at her face, then at her bound arms and legs.

  Yes! It understands!

  “That’s right. Please let me go,” Jessica said. Her tone was level and urgent, but it failed to get a reaction from the TriRusk other than a snort. “Damn you! Let me go.”

  The TriRusk shuffled a half-step toward her, and she flinched. It’s going to kill me.

  For a long moment the TriRusk stared at her, and Jessica struggled to get her heart rate under control. The TriRusk turned away from her and shuffled to the front of the sled. Jessica thrashed against her bonds. “Godsdamnit you smelly shitbag! Let me go! I must get back! MinSha are dying, and I can stop it.”

  She choked out the last few words in frustration. The pain in her head amplified as the TriRusk pic
ked up the sled’s handles and continued its slow march into the jungle, but there was nothing she could do. Head lolling back against the travois poles, Jessica looked up into the jungle canopy. The calls and squawks of fauna she couldn’t see filtered down around them.

  “Lucille?” she whispered. There was no response. From what she could feel, her combat wrist-slate was gone. Maybe it was packed in a bag on the sled, but it wasn’t on her arm where it should have been. The tiny headset she’d worn for years to communicate with her slate and her near-AI assistant didn’t seem to be there. Pressing her ear toward her shoulder, Jessica couldn’t feel it.

  “Lucille?” she said a little louder. “Accept override zeta and activate speaker.”

  She should have heard a shrill beep of confirmation, but there was silence, except for the whoosh-shuffle-whoosh of the sled moving through the underbrush. The bright sunlight gained in intensity over time. She’d been unconscious for hours. Exactly how long have I been out?

  “Excuse me? Can you please stop?”

  Whoosh-shuffle-whoosh. Whoosh-shuffle-whoosh.

  Jessica watched the passing landscape for a few minutes, then tried, unsuccessfully, to gauge the distance they’d traveled. The jungle swallowed their trail as fast as the TriRusk made it, and seeing more than fifty meters at one time was impossible. The pain in her arm continued to flare and she felt the beginning of a fever. She closed her eyes and let the rhythm lull her, the nausea and throbbing in her arm worsening with every passing minute. Jessica was just about to drift off when the TriRusk stopped and propped the sled against a tree.

  She sat up, straining against the bonds, as it came into view on her right. It looked at her and took four large, lumbering paces into the jungle. She watched it turn slowly and look directly at her for a long moment, before it squatted in the bush.

  What is it doing?

  The TriRusk raised its hind end enough for her to see a stream of clear urine running into the jungle. When it finished, the TriRusk crept up to her, reached a hand toward the band, and hesitated.

  It’s going to let me go. She held her breath and watched the TriRusk’s dexterous fingers work out the knot in the length of woven vines. As it loosened, Jessica breathed in quickly. From watching the sun’s position in the sky during her moments of lucidity, she believed they were east of the MinSha compound. She didn’t know how far they’d traveled, but she also knew it didn’t matter. She could find her way back if she could see the sun. It was enough. The husk of leaves around her came loose, and the TriRusk pulled off the outer layer of dark green leaves, revealing more of the brown poultices. The one on her right thigh was dark with blood, but she had no pain from the wound. Terror shot through her that her leg was gone, until she flexed her toes inside her boot.

  Oh, thank gods.

  She flexed her foot again, and her leg sluggishly responded. Clamping her jaw against the expected pain, she tried to raise her leg from the hip and winced, but the leg weakly responded. Her heart sank. Whatever had happened was bad enough that running back to the MinSha compound wasn’t going to happen. She was stuck with her silent captor. If he tries to kill me—

  Jessica stopped and tried to think rationally, instead of giving in to the panic, just as her instructors at Peacemaker U would have wanted. There was nothing to suggest she was in immediate danger, save for it not speaking to her. Clearly, it hadn’t liked the volume of her voice when she’d screamed, but even then, there had been no negative response. That was a good sign. Plus, the TriRusk had bandaged her wounds effectively. Without a medkit, she wouldn’t have been able to heal herself, but it had covered the wounds and gotten the bleeding under control, which showed there was an intelligence behind the TriRusk’s impassive face and utter silence. She raised her leg again and managed to sling it over the travois pole and touch her right foot to the ground. Using her arms, despite the stinging pain in her left, she pulled herself onto her left leg, then into a full, standing position. The horizon swam. She wobbled and started to fall, but the TriRusk pushed its right forearm against her shoulder and held her upright.

  “Thanks,” she said with a grunt. The TriRusk said nothing as it looked at her. It looked at the spot where it had pissed in the grass, then back at her. She squinted and realized that in its quiet, detached way, the TriRusk was trying to communicate with her. She smiled as a memory from childhood came to mind and made the connection for her. On road trips, anytime her mother had to drive more than thirty minutes, she would have to put down her slate and “make a pit stop,” even though going to the bathroom at strange restaurants and travelers’ rest stops wasn’t something her mother liked to do. As soon as the memory broke over her, Jessica relaxed and tried not to laugh. It wants me to go to the bathroom, too.

  “You’re not going to act like my mother, are you?” she asked. The TriRusk said nothing and kept his hand on her shoulder as she moved through the grass to do her business. To her surprise, it turned away from her. She started to say something, and the TriRusk whipped its head back to her and snorted derisively.

  “Okay, okay, Mom. I’ll make a pit stop.”

  The TriRusk looked away again, and Jessica waited a moment. Her companion didn’t waver, and it was clear he intended to assist her. Bending over under her own power, in her condition, wasn’t an option. Neither was trying to get away, even from the plodding TriRusk. He’d evacuated her from the battlefield and dressed her wounds, but that wasn’t all. Wherever the TriRusk was taking her was a longer haul than her bladder would allow. All she could do was go along with the TriRusk’s wishes. Maybe there were answers at their destination. Tirr could handle the defense of the compound unless Raleigh Reilly got his collective shit together. If that happened, all bets were off.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  Weqq

  Minutes turned to hours as they plodded through the jungle without stopping. The uneasy pain of the pit stop gradually worsened over the course of the morning, leaving Jessica feverish and fatigued long before the sun reached its zenith in the misty sky. The TriRusk continued to pull the sled with no sound other than the occasional snort. In her fleeting periods of lucidity, Jessica used the shadows and the sun’s position to confirm their continued path to the southeast. Sleep came between those clear moments, and eventually the mists thickened, and the sun was no longer visible. They could have been going in any direction. Frustrated, Jessica closed her eyes, trying to sleep between the feverish spells and let her body fight off whatever was sapping her energy and strength.

  But sleep would not come. She swam in and out of murky consciousness, except for the clear voice of self-critique. She’d ultimately failed the MinSha. She had little doubt their compound had fallen to the Human mercenaries. Without a Peacemaker, the strongest force would win any prolonged conflict. Despite how prepared Tirr and his guards appeared, the Raiders were going to outlast and outfight them. When the compound surrendered, there was no telling what would happen. There was nothing she could do but lie on the slowly moving sled and try not to second guess herself. Her fever raged, bringing with it clear voices from opposing sides of her conscience. She knew she was delirious, but she couldn’t stop the conversation.

  One voice was the clear, gruff voice of her instructors telling her to suck it up and drive on, while the other was one she recognized from her childhood. She had been tormented on the playgrounds of her youth, and now, she heard all of her enemies combine in a child-like voice tinged with the whiny sing-song tones of bullying.

  Remember when they told you you’d sit on your ass and do nothing for a few years? You were so sure you wouldn’t, yet there you sat. You wanted to quit from the moment you got to the barracks.

  She shook her head. The hell I did. I’m a Peacemaker.

  Some Peacemaker you are! You pretty much started a war on Araf, and your Daddy bailed you out, just in time. That’s not making peace, is it?

  I did my job and earned my commission. I’m a Peacemaker.

/>   The sing-song voice laughed. Repeating it doesn’t make it true. The only thing you are is a killer. You managed to get Maya, Hex, and how many young CASPer pilots killed? They died saving your ass during your stupid quest to be a Peacemaker. You wanted to be the first, and you got it, and all the awful shit that goes with it, Jessica. You’re a failure waiting to happen.

  Anger surfaced, and Jessica let it come. The heat in her cheeks gave the fever a brief respite. They died saving the Altar, not me. They knew the mission and the risks. I’m not going to quit and let them down for that. If I quit, their deaths are in vain.

  As if you really cared about anything other than that shiny platinum badge on your chest. You’ve given up everyone and everything to become a Peacemaker. For what? It’s clear you can’t handle the job. Look at you! You’re injured and lying on a sled, getting farther and farther away from the battle every second.

  It’s not like I can just get up and go back.

  You haven’t tried, Peacemaker. The playground voice enunciated her title in a sneering, mocking tone. Jessica’s head snapped up, and she opened her eyes. Matted hair hung down over her eyes and clung to her sweaty cheeks. She worked her right arm through the restraints to wipe her face. Her skin was cool and clammy. The fever had broken.

  Thank gods.

  Everything seemed much clearer, and even the sled’s whooshing noises were clearer and more vibrant. In every direction, she could see more than fifty meters. Plants and grasses obscured the jungle floor, but the larger, dense foliage was behind them. To her right, she caught the sound of running water. Straining against her bonds, Jessica turned and thought she saw a black tear in the jungle floor where the water might be running. The TriRusk had been following the stream all along.

  She was eleven or twelve when she’d hiked with her scout unit along the Appalachian Trail. The first things her scoutmasters taught her were how to follow the simple white blazes marking the trail, what to do when you thought you were lost (“Hug a tree, dammit!”), and how to find civilization by following roads or streams downhill.