“Concentration. . . . slipped,” Olsi’s friend said, her voice strained and her speech slurred. “Won’t. . . . happen again.”
Eladia’s hands were bound behind her. From the relative safety of her hiding spot, Olsi spotted a bruise on the side of the Human’s cheek. A low, quiet growl formed in her throat. The fur along the back of her neck stiffened as she warred with the need to stay safe or leap out of the bushes to save her only friend away from home.
Ghika died so easily, she thought. Will I suffer the same fate? Maybe I should run to the constables now.
No, too late for that. A second female Human emerged into the garden and added to the complexity of the situation. Reflectors on her sleek black spacer suit caught the glow of the flowers, made her seem like the pack of Human voyagers that once visited the Tuli’s home planet and found it too crowded for their liking.
Whatever thoughts Olsi had to summon the authorities were smothered. She clenched her fingers and made a gesture for frustration.
“Smart of you, to hide under Roraqk’s employ as one of his grunt workers,” the female said as she surveyed the garden. There was a more relaxed air about her and she smelled pleasant, at least. “Though one wonders what your esteemed family would say if they discovered how low their beloved, gifted daughter would stoop, working with Recruiters and pirates.”
“They’d say nothing, thanks to your discretion,” Eladia said, her teeth bared in a smile or a snarl. The Tuli could not tell which without the hand gestures to validate that expression. “Discretion that . . . my friend . . . willing to pay . . . generously for.”
“Yes, you’ve said that already,” the female Human said with a sigh.
“So where is this friend of yours?” the male captor said with a growl. He, too, sported an ugly bruise, one that left one eye shut. Olsi could tell from the way he carried himself that he was in pain. She had seen bucks emerging from a territorial dispute the same way. “We can’t wait all night.”
He paused to turn his head toward the bushes where Olsi lay hidden, to the Tuli’s alarm. For a moment, he seemed to stare straight at her, his brows furrowed and his hand clasped around a blaster strapped to his side. All at once she could smell more than the captor’s sweat. Fear, anticipation, and the scent of certain lizardlike aliens the Tuli had run into but a short time ago.
“We are here,” something hissed into the night. The male Scat, Olsi discovered. “Releass-se her.”
“We have your payment, Manda,” said the female Scat, coming to stand beside her male companion. Under the dim glow of the flowers, and the soft luminescence of the stars above, she cut an impressive figure. Her frills were fanned out, her poise straight, unfazed by the tension. “Unbind her.”
“Not so fast, Jostaph,” the one called Manda said, her hand raised to stop her companion from moving. “Let us see the credits first, Scat. Then we’ll talk.”
Something flew into the air, then landed with a clinking sound in the grass close to where Olsi’s friend was being held captive.
“A bag of gems-ss, as-ss per your reques-sst,” the female Scat explained.
Manda smirked, then exchanged a look with Jostaph that Olsi didn’t quite trust. The grins on their faces were just as shady as the scent of their mischief. “And the credits you agreed to transfer?”
“Already in progres-ss,” the female Scat motioned to her companion, who held up a small screen in his claws. Moments later a beep from the device broke the silence, and he nodded to her. “Done,” she said.
“Good,” Jostaph said. In the flash of a second, he whipped his weapon out and fired. Before anyone could so much as gasp, the young male Scat was on the ground, writhing in agony.
“No!” Eladia shouted. “Please, don’t hurt them!”
“Move, and you’re next, scum,” Manda pointed at the female Scat before bending down to retrieve the bag of gems. It was enough to set the Tuli’s blood boiling, and that damnable pack instinct, the one that had drawn her species so closely together, now gnawed at her to act.
Ghika had died a horrible death. She didn’t like the old buck very much, but there was no sense in any more deaths involving beings she knew. Not here in this space station, so far away from her home planet. And the Human had always been kind to her. Kinder than Ghika ever was.
Decision made, she crawled forward until her upper body was out of the hedges, hoping the glow of the buds would not give her away. With the bandits’ backs to her, she had but one chance.
Jostaph hoisted the prisoner to her feet. “We’re going to be rich, Manda!”
“Oh, we are going to be so much richer. Think of how much the d’Vortas will pay for her,” Manda said as she tucked the bag into her suit. She flashed a grin at the female Scat. “I suggest you take your friend there to the medbay. He may very well survive this encounter.”
The female Scat, however, seemed unfazed. She clasped her claws before her, her forked tongue tasting the air. If she noticed Olsi crawling forward, she gave no sign. “That is-ss but a fraction of what we can pay for her releass-se,” the female Scat said. “Name uss-s your terms-ss.”
“Trasi, no,” Eladia said. “This isn’t working . . .”
“It obviously isn’t,” Manda agreed. “Oh, what would her kin do to us if we fail to return her?” The Human nodded at their captive. “Have you ever crossed paths with beings more powerful? Seen how they could read minds? We got lucky with this one. I’d rather not mess with the whole lo—”
With a guttural cry, Olsi pounced on Manda before the Human could finish speaking. The Tuli sank her incisors into the Human’s shoulder, ignoring her shrieks and thrashing as Olsi pressed her full weight down onto her foe.
She pushed herself off the Human just as blaster shots blackened the grass beside her. Olsi squealed and, in her panic, barreled forward on all fours to where Jostaph stood, now struggling for control over the blaster with the female Scat.
Olsi felt him fall under her weight, and on blind instinct, bit him on the neck before he could act. Determined to keep him on the ground, she kicked and scratched him with the blunt claws on her feet, over and over. Jostaph’s gurgling screams turned into whimpers and cries for help, but Olsi kept kicking, until the Human grew still.
“Olsi.”
In between fast breaths and the taste of blood in her mouth, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Pale eyes wide, Olsi turned to lock eyes with her Human friend.
“It’s all right. You can stop now.” The Human made a gesture for peace. Safe.
Olsi sat up and released the limp Jostaph, her stubby fingers moving rapidly to suggest ship, and flight.
“No,” the Human said. She had one hand pressed against her temple, and her gaze was on the two still and silent Humans on the grass. “Plexis . . . safe place to hide, Olsi.” She shook her head, brows furrowed, and looked to the young male Scat, still groaning on the grass. “Will he be all right?”
Trasi, who now knelt beside her fallen companion and worked quickly to stanch the blood leaking from his shoulder, nodded. “He’ll live. Can’t s-ssay the sssame for your captorss-sss, Eladia.”
Eladia sighed and sat on the grass beside Olsi. “They drugged me earlier. Couldn’t tell Plexis from Auord. Couldn’t read their minds.”
It took a moment for Olsi to register that. Yet it surprised her more that the discovery was not troubling at all. It explained a lot of things. For a moment, she wondered if her arrival here had been coincidental.
“Coincidence,” the Human muttered, and gestured trust. “You found me on your own. I didn’t even know how I got here. Thank you, Olsi. I owe you my freedom. Ah, my head hurts.” She sighed and gazed out into the garden, where the glow of the flower buds had begun to dim. “We better leave. Security . . .”
“We don’t need to jus-sst yet,” the Scat said, helping her companion to sit up. “No one elss-se here
. Haven’t you noticed? Cusstomers-s and merchantss-s avoid thiss-s place. It is-ss where beingss-s come to s-sssettle dis-ssputess, without intervention.” Those cold, slit-shaped pupils now slid toward Olsi. The Tuli suddenly felt stained and dirty under the Scat’s regard. She began to wipe her bloodstained mouth and groom her whiskers.
Trasi chuckled, a hissing sound that Olsi was certain would frighten the Tuli pups back home. “We are fortunate that you ss-sshowed up. Didn’t know Tulisss-s could fight like that.”
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Eladia asked with a weak smile.
Olsi shrugged. She was as surprised as they were. In that haze of fear and confusion and desire to protect her friend, there was little else to do but let instinct take over. Never thought of herself as much of a brawler, but two Humans lay dead at her feet. Despite herself, she quite liked that feeling of triumph.
After a brief stare with the Human, Trasi nodded and removed the yellow gem from her frill. She slipped that in Olsi’s paws. “Take thiss-s. I am certain you can live comfortably on that. It will be enough for you to get a s-sship home, and more, if that iss-s your wish.”
Olsi sniffed the gem. Thought for a moment about what she wanted to do, then shook her head and handed it back to the Scat. She let out a sound that was a cross between a yip and a chatter. Made a gesture for stay.
There was nothing back home waiting for her. The warren was overpopulated. The work left much to be desired. It felt more like home to be here, among this strange, unexpected pack, even though the circumstances of their meeting left two beings dead and one wounded. Strange, that.
“Then consider it your first payment,” Eladia said. “I could use another friend out here. Trasi can’t watch my back all the time, and my family won’t stop looking for me.” She held her hand out, then made a gesture for gratitude.
Olsi gave the equivalent of a Tuli smile, her lips parting to reveal her long incisors. She clasped the Human’s hand, shook it once, then made a sweeping sign over her head. Friend. Home.
. . . Truffles continues
8
HOW COULD MORGAN know about that Tuli? Had he tracked down every being involved that day? Followed trails of hapless bystanders as well as those to blame? Why?
I slammed down my barriers until only our link remained. How he knew—why he knew—wasn’t important. I seethed inwardly. How dare he compare our experiences? The Tulis—I could still feel their paws groping over my flesh, the remembrance strong enough to raise bumps on my skin and speed my pulse. They’d examined me as if I’d been so much meat being shipped.
“It wasn’t Olsi. Remember that, too.”
Slowly, I let myself meet the gaze of those remarkable blue eyes, see the daunting patience in them. The shared anguish. The bone-deep understanding. My kind didn’t believe you could read a face. Didn’t bother, when Clan emotions flooded the M’hir and couldn’t be hidden from the more powerful. But this face, Morgan’s . . . I traced the line of his jaw with my fingertips, watched him swallow, those eyes darken . . . this I knew better than my own.
What that expression asked of me?
To admit the truth, to myself as much as to him. “I’m not who I was,” I said slowly. “I don’t know how to let go of what happened. Where it happened. Who did it to me.” The words came out too low to be heard over the music, the voices of strangers, but Morgan gave a barely perceptible nod.
“We won. Such anxiety is irrational.” I scowled. I shouldn’t fear an entire species. Tulis. Scats. My own kind. The Retians—I’M STRONGER THAN THIS!
I’m not. With terrible grief.
Shaken, I answered instinct and dropped my barriers. Even as I reached for my Chosen, I found him already present. Even as our minds and hearts sought one another . . .
We were found.
Me, seeing Morgan’s hunt for answers, for the complete picture of what had happened to me, to us both. Needing to know why. Needing to be ready, if we were threatened again.
Him, seeing how I’d tried to bury my horror and dismay, having no time to spare for either. Needing to be strong, for my people and myself. Needing to prepare, for we would be threatened again, and the cost? Now doubled, for we were Chosen and would die as one.
Timeless, that sharing. Over between two beats of the nearest music. We eased away but not apart, and I found myself at peace. Almost.
First, we both had to hurry out of the way of a Festor who stumbled toward an unsuspecting plant only to regurgitate a stream of green fluid. The being made a happy noise and headed back from where it had come, presumably in search of more. The plant sank into black goo.
There was nothing to do but laugh. “We had to come to Plexis,” I complained once I caught my breath.
His lips twitched in that half-grin I loved. “Everyone does.”
Will of the Neblokan Fates
by Natalie Reinelt
DANGER. THE WARNING pulsed in the awakening recesses of Soh’im’s semiconsciousness. As awareness grew, an involuntary shudder tilted his hovering bulk to an off-kilter angle. When a sharp kick to his lower back set him straight again, Soh’im prayed for the dark to reclaim him. The Neblokan Fates, however, had other plans in store for him. Their first act—to pelt his forehead with rain. Normally a luxury to his kind, each drop sent pain ricocheting through his skull with the ferocity of a biodisruptor discharge.
Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Soh’im knew going in it would take everything he had to fight the knockout effects of the Recruiters’ keening cone-shaped weapon. He may not have known its name, but he’d certainly seen it used enough times from his hiding place among the strewn waste; he just hadn’t counted on the extent of the pain. What he did know was that it amounted to nothing compared to what he’d face if they discovered his deceit. Then . . . well, then everything he’d planned would have been for nothing. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Not after the Human female had nearly ruined everything.
“I know Neblokans are useless recruits,” trying to remain as limp as the grav belt encircling his ample waist warranted, Soh’im focused on the unpleasant grate of the Auordian Recruiter without giving his regained self-awareness away, “that’s not why we collect them. Don’t look at me like that; you know full well what that female’s corpse fetched on the Plexis black market last shipment!”
“I know, I know, twice as much dead than alive.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” the bored response of the other had no effect on the condescending tone of speaker number one, “and I for one don’t care what they want with them. Besides,” Soh’im took a hard punch to his already pounding head, “who’s going to miss such an ugly offworlder? Now,” that one word darkened the already sinister voice even further, “what I do care about is that we agreed to collect them for as long as we can. Got it? Good!”
The Neblokan corpse they spoke of—had they been referring to Nih’ma, his mate? No, they couldn’t have. Not so close to spawning. He just had to believe they spoke of another, and he would find Nih’ma before time ran out.
The problem was Soh’im hadn’t thought much past the being-captured portion of his plan. Not for lack of trying, but for lack of intel. He had no idea where they were taking him or what they would do once there. He could only hope they’d leave him unattended long enough to break free. Then where? The Auordian had mentioned Plexis, but Soh’im wouldn’t be welcomed back there. Not after “the incident.” Stop! he told himself. There’s no time for this, and dwelling on the past solves nothing. Besides, he reasoned, others must have done far worse and still returned without consequence. He’d soon find out—or so he hoped, for Plexis was his only lead and, therefore, the only logical course of action.
A small measure of time, feeling more like an eternity, passed before Soh’im realized the rain no longer fell. Had he dozed? An anxiety-inducing thought that set his molting wattle vibrating against hi
s will. Hopefully, the Auordians hadn’t noticed. Even if they had, though, he doubted they knew much about his kind. An ignorance that would work to his advantage if true, so he could only hope they believed it nothing more than an unconscious reflex.
“Ugh! I can’t wait to get away from this foul stench.” Dropped onto a hard surface without warning, a winded grunt escaped Soh’im’s wide leathery mouth. The belt encircling his waist caught his clothing, tearing through the rotted fabric to scrape against his flesh, as the Recruiter yanked it free. “We’ll have to sanitize this, or we’ll smell him on it for the rest of our lives. Come on, he won’t be coming round any time soon, so just cover him up and shove him in there until later. No, don’t bother marking it. We’ll smell him easily enough; let’s just hope nothing else sniffs him out in the meantime.”
Soh’im, his courage mounting as their steps receded, relaxed under the stifling cover. Fools, both, if they thought they’d find him by the stench they now associated with him. They had no idea of the physiology of Neblokans.
Their world filled with dangerous night predators, Neblokans evolved into a species capable of olfactory camouflage: they could do a form of chemical mimicry by storing chemicals from their food in the flesh. Something quite useful on their homeworld, although not usually beyond it. Until now. The tarp, made of crude Human canvas, had the stale taste of mildew as Soh’im gnawed on the corner until a large section tore free, allowing him to swallow. A few more bites, and he’d be ready.
In a hurry to leave, his choking cough to dislodge a piece not quite ready to swallow echoed around the open space as he crawled from within the confines of the Auordian hiding spot into a world of pitch. Gaining an uneasy stance on stubby legs long deprived of circulation, he quickly rid himself of his rotting clothes. Draping the remains of the tarp around his naked form, he edged along the wall at his back.
The Clan Chronicles--Tales from Plexis Page 25
