by Alma Boykin
Rada awoke just after sundown with a horrible cramp in her back, a twisted neck, and supper waiting on a tray a meter in front of her nose. The mammal ate, washed, then went to sleep again on her sleeping platform, her weapons close at hand. She was up before dawn the next day and prepared carefully, giving all her weapons and equipment a very careful inspection and eating a hearty morning meal. There was a new helmet waiting for her to try, but she decided not to bother. After all, a helmet wouldn’t stop a blaster at that range, nor would it save her from a sword cut. And she changed back into the black clothing that she’d been wearing until the spring. It was now high summer, and miserably hot and sticky, but if she was going to be an enforcer then she was going to look the part. Plus her blood would show less on black.
She was going to die. Unless Daetak really was as bad at fighting as Shar thought, the former prince would wear Rada down, overpower her, or use her blindness to defeat her. And then what? Shar could kill Daetak, maybe. Or allow his half-brother to go into exile outside the Empire. But Shar would lose a lot of prestige if Daetak defeated Shar’s champion, even if the rebel was then executed. Rada took her time walking toward the Palace’s central gates, thinking as she walked.
Shi-dan had hired her so that the Azdhagi would never forget that aliens should not be underestimated. Could he have imagined that peace on his throneworld might depend on a crippled, half-blind female mammal who had been so weak as to allow her child to die while she watched? Probably not, she decided. And he would have just ordered her to win and assumed that she would. Rada wondered why the long-dead reptile haunted her thoughts so much, then shoved all such thought aside as she rounded the corner and strode toward the gate.
She clung to the shadows of the wall until she heard footsteps, then turned and knelt. Shar, fully armed and armored, gestured to his guards to return to the inner courtyard. The reptile advanced alone, stopping to stand beside his Lord Defender. “You may rise,” he grated and she took her place behind his left shoulder, far enough back that she could see him in her peripheral vision. The two waited silently, watching for movement.
As the sun reached its zenith, a vehicle pulled to a stop some distance away and the driver emerged. He walked toward the King-Emperor and Rada noted the new arrival’s close-fitting armor, his blaster, and sword. Her eye narrowed as she recognized the shield projector strapped to his belly plate. Shar had been right to suspect trouble—shields were banned by custom from single combats. Rada wondered what model it was and how to counter it. And what other surprises Daetak might be concealing.
Daetak stopped four sword lengths from his half brother. Neither reptile spoke, instead weighing each other.
Shar broke the silence. “You couldn’t match deeds to words, Daetak. You never could.”
“And you are too weak to do your own butchery, Shar,” the light brown reptile snarled. “You hide behind an alien, a mammalian alien at that,” he spat, “and then dare to claim that you are being generous and merciful. I was in the crowd at Skytouched, Shar. I heard what you said. You are as treacherous as you accused me of being.”
Shar ignored the insult. “We grant you this, Daetak: you had good intentions and thought you were doing what was for the benefit of Our people. For that, We will allow you to leave Our throneworld and Our Empire,” the grey-green Azdhag replied calmly. “Or you will die.”
“Damn it, you hairy fool!” Daetak’s forefoot swung up and he triggered his personal shield. “Stop killing your own people! I came here to talk reason into you, to end the massacres. Execute the mammal, give the people some say over their own lives and let me show you how to govern, little brother. Or get out of the way.” As he spoke, the traitor rose onto his hind legs, advanced and drew his blade while releasing a blaster strapped to his other foreleg.
Rada caught Shar’s almost imperceptible gesture and bowed a little, stepping aside as he backed away from her and Daetak. “No, Daetak, it ends here,” Rada said quietly, drawing only her sword. There was no point in trying to use her blaster until she got through his shield.
The Lord Defender and “people’s prince” circled each other. Then she attacked, trying to snap around him and come in behind where she guessed his shield ended. Instead, he spun much faster than she anticipated, dropping onto all four feet while pivoting on his hind leg, slamming her blind side with his tail and lunging forward. She took the blow, rolled with it, and found herself jammed against his right foreleg as he struck her hand with his gauntleted hindfoot, numbing it. Rada tried to cut upwards but her blade was too long. Before she could slash his other foreleg, Daetak jumped up slightly and came down hard, pinning her with his left forefoot and smashing most of wind out of her as his mass crushed her chest. She twisted her head, barely saving her good eye as his right forefoot talons swept over her face, slicing through skin, muscle, and scar tissue.
“Yield and I kill you quickly, Commander Ni Drako,” the reptile hissed. “You obeyed orders and did what you thought was right, I grant you that.”
Rada made a choking and gasping sound as he pushed down and she felt ribs starting to crack. She scrambled for purchase as if trying to get back on her feet. Instead, all she managed was reaching the knife in the top of her boot.
“Not going to face reality, are you?” Daetak sounded a little sad, even as he felt for the edge of her chest protector with his other forefoot. “Pity, but you’re out of your time anyway, Ni Drako. You should have lived before the Great Relocation, when Court honor and loyalty meant something.” He leaned harder, settling his weight down onto one forefoot and further crushing the mammal’s chest, talons piercing her flanks at the seams of her armor as he did. Rada, now inside Daetak’s shield, closed her eye, exhaled and stabbed upwards in a last-ditch effort to stop him. Her boot dagger found the control box for his shield and sparks flew as metal touched metal and the circuits shorted. Rada had just enough breath left to cry out, “Now!” before a talon pierced her lung.
At that instant, four blaster bolts hit the green male’s flank and he staggered, releasing a little of the deadly pressure. He turned his head and saw his brother, eyes sad as he sighted for a fifth shot. “I’m sorry, Daetak,” Shar told him. “You had your chances.” Daetak tried to say something, but only blood came out of his muzzle and he collapsed onto his side. Shar approached and put a last shot into his brother’s skull.
Shar pulled his Lord Defender away from the body. He wasn’t a medic but even he could tell that the mammal had been badly hurt. Blood trickled out of the corner of Ni Drako’s mouth, poured out from around his blind eye, and soaked his clothes at the edges of his armor where Deatak’s talons had carved into him. The mammal remained conscious and was trying to speak. Shar leaned close, touching Ni Drako’s forefoot. Imperial Majesty, get me to my time ship, please, the reptile heard in his head.
“Into your ship?” he demanded of Ni Drako, who nodded. Shar waved in two of the waiting Palace Guard and the three hurried to the Defender’s vessel. “In here?” the King-Emperor pointed to the only thing that looked capable of holding the mammal, but the Lord Defender had passed out. The guards lifted him onto the padded platform, then one soldier pulled the lid closed and pushed a green button on the side of the machine. As they watched, white vapors of some kind filled the chamber and the Lord Defender went still, his chest no longer moving. A series of red lights appeared on a display, then slowly began turning green as blood stopped flowing from the mammal and his chest lifted and fell again.
As much as he wanted to watch the miracle, the King-Emperor had other things to do and Commander Ni Drako, as he himself had bluntly put it many year turns ago, was expendable. If he died it would be a loss, but no greater than all the other losses the Empire had seen in the past moons. In some ways it, Shar realized, would be better if Ni Drako died because the King-Emperor could put all guilt for the necessary killings on the mammal and start clean. It was an idea and one to keep in mind, the reptile decided. Shar stepped out of the cramped sh
ip, swished his tail back and forth, and took a deep breath. “Stay here, and report to Us if the Lord Defender emerges or if he dies,” he ordered one of the Guards. To the other he commanded, “You, come with Us. Then call someone to begin disposing of the traitor’s body.”
“Yes, Imperial Majesty,” the reptiles bowed, and Shar didn’t look back as he strode toward the Palace.
A few hints of afternoon breeze rustled through the Imperial family’s garden as the young King-Emperor looked over his shoulder at his Lord Defender. Ni Drako seemed to have aged, even beyond the injuries he’d suffered two days before. Shar understood why: he too felt older, as if he’d lived centuries in the past sixts and moons. And now he had to rebuild, to heal and strengthen Drakon IV so that this never happened again. How to begin, he wondered? And which of his Ancestors had he so horribly offended to be cursed with having to even think about doing so?
At last the Lord Defender spoke. “Many, many years ago, your honored ancestor Shi-dan called me to this private garden for a final audience before his death. We said little but discussed much, including an event about which I am sworn never to speak. We agreed that duty can be a very bitter thing, Imperial Majesty.” Shar didn’t gape at the mammal’s words, but he did turn and stare a little at the Wanderer. He’d forgotten how old the alien truly was and for just how many generations Ni Drako had served Drakon IV. The mammal’s mouth twisted up on one side, acknowledging his overlord’s reaction. “Imperial Majesty, if Shi-dan found it so, how can it be less for mere mortals such as his successors and descendents?”
Shar returned his gaze to the quiet haven of the pleasure garden. “You claim to be merely a soldier and not a statesman or councilor, Lord Ni Drako, but your words suggest otherwise,” the reptile observed quietly.
“I have been blessed, or cursed, with a long enough life to make more mistakes and to survive the consequences than most creatures do, Imperial Majesty. I am not wise, just experienced.” The mammal started to continue, then fell silent.
Shar mulled his Lord Defender’s words. “Then what does your experience suggest We should do as a first step to preventing another event such as this?” The young reptile wanted to know.
He heard Ni Drako taking a deep breath. “Perhaps slow, steady, and quiet changes, Imperial Majesty? Reduce the rights of nobles over their people gradually, beginning with sales right and mate right? They have been fading, but make it a law. Then remove some of the restrictions on trade and rank so that more Azdhagi can move into the businesses, both here and elsewhere in the Empire, if they wish to? Shi-dan started that when he ennobled some of the trade families, but it has lapsed over the last hundred and fifty year-turns.” The mammal thought some more. “Allow those who own property to carry weapons for self defense, no matter their rank. Beyond that I can’t say, Imperial Majesty, and those are just guesses and personal thoughts, with as little value as the breeze.”
Shar gave the Lord Defender a reproachful look. “They are more concrete and better considered than most of what We have heard recently, Lord Ni Drako. We will study them in due course.” He paused, considering how to phrase his next order without grossly offending the mammal. “And We... grant you leave to travel for the next year-turn or so, unless We need your services sooner.” He knew that Ni Drako would read his meaning and indeed, the warrior made the forefoot and tail gesture of understanding. Peace would come more quickly if the Sword were out of sight. Shar returned his attention to the reflections dancing on the pond. “You are dismissed.” He didn’t turn, but heard the mammal bow, back ten paces, bow again and then turn and walk quickly out of the garden.
Rada had just returned to her quarters when her portable communications device, the one linked into the Dark Hart, beeped at her. She’d left it on auto answer and after taking a seat at her desk, she called up the message. She read the transcription carefully, thinking. Back to Earth so soon? But over four hundred years earlier, not to North America, and he wouldn’t be calling me if it wasn’t important. And I can grieve there as well as here. Ni Drako noted the sender’s temporal and spatial coordinates and replied with a possible meeting location. Since she had to leave Drakon IV, it didn’t matter when or where she went. Earth would work as well as anywhere, and she didn’t feel like catching Zabet up on events just now, or telling Himself the tale of her latest doings.
The Dark Hart disappeared from the landing pad sometime in the blackest part of the night. The next morning, Prince Heest began compiling the accounts of the rebellion, from all sides as much as possible, for future reference. And a deceptively average-looking reptile studied a drawing of a half-blind, humanoid mammal and wished the alien peace.
10: Tyrolean Troubles
Joschka waited as the late evening darkness turned the trees into vague dark shadows and wished he’d worn heavier gloves. He also wondered if Commander Ni Drako would still be willing to help him after she heard the full story. It had been a long time in both their lifestreams since their paths had crossed and by now she might have other duties and responsibilities, or even have simply retired, although he very much doubted the latter. He shivered in the icy late November wind, turning to glance back at the road. He spun around to face the thicket as he heard quiet footsteps coming up behind him.
“You called, Yori?” A still-familiar voice inquired from the shadows of the old trees.
Joschka smiled. “Yes, I did. Welcome to the Drachental, Commander.” His smile faded as she walked into the torch’s dim light and he saw the patch covering Rada’s right eye and the angry red lines of fresh scars across the cheekbone below it.
The small woman nodded, “I know. It’s not pretty, is it? I’m still relearning how to fly and how to fight, among other things. What can I do for you, Herr,” she paused, leaning forward and noting his insignia, “Colonel?”
Joschka gathered his wits and pushed his questions to the back of the queue. “Lieutenant Colonel Joschka von Hohen-Drachenburg. We seem to have a little problem with vanishing people, a curse, and technology that probably shouldn’t be here yet. Are you interested in taking a look?”
She considered for a moment and then smiled. “Yes, I am. Assuming you don’t mind providing room and board for the first day. I’m a bit shy on the local currency at the moment, but I’ve got pounds sterling I can convert.” She stopped as he chuckled.
“What kind of host invites an expert and then demands she pay her own way? Besides, I’m a bit better off than when last we met, Commander. Come with me and we can begin solving this problem in the morning,” Joschka offered and she agreed. «It’s good to see you, Rada,» he sent as she picked up her bag and handed him a hard-sided case.
«Likewise, Joschka. I’m using Rachel Na Gael now, just so you know. The hunters got a bit close, among other things, and I’m back on the run,» she sighed.
Rada made an effort to shake off her bleak mood and continued out loud, “You’re looking well! Austria seems to be suiting you,” and she grinned up at him.
“Not just Austria, Commander.” He held up his right hand, showing the wedding band. “We’re not that far from my home, so I’ll introduce you to Magda and the children. It’s also a secure base for you to stay at until we get things arranged with the Army,” he added.
“Congratulations! That’s wonderful, Joschka! I’m glad you’ve found someone.” Her joy was unfeigned and he relaxed a little. Amazing: after all these years, he still wanted his former senior officer’s approval! He laughed at himself and studied his associate. Small but muscular, she now wore her straight brown-black hair in a waist length plait. “Rachel” wore a black sweater and skirt, with a pale-pink scarf tucked into her collar. The black patch covered her right eye and she also limped, favoring her right leg. Joschka wondered what had happened to her.
Either he’d let his shield slip or she anticipated his question, because Rada sighed. “The wages of overconfidence. I got careless during an infantry maneuver, let my guard down and didn’t realize that one of the enem
y had infiltrated my lines. He shot me in the leg and came bloody close to killing me,” she explained. “I’m not ready to talk about the eye yet, so please don’t ask.”
He heard the pain in her voice and made a note not to inquire. Joschka understood her feelings: he had stories of his own that he’d just as soon forget. They’d reached his car and he opened the door for her. She slid into the rear seat with commendable grace and set her bags on the floor, settling back into the smooth leather with an appreciative smile. “I trust there is a house to match the car?”
“Oh, my wife’s family has a small place at the head of the Drachental, Commander. I think we can find room for you, if you don’t mind antiques and old books—and a few horses and children,” he allowed. Rada made an interested noise but did not ask anything more, letting him concentrate on driving along the twisting mountain road. Only after the Daimler turned onto the private road leading to the old house did she speak.
Even by moonlight Schloss Hohen-Drachenburg was imposing and Rada smiled appreciatively. “Not bad, Colonel von Hohen-Drachenburg, not bad at all. I’m going to have to learn your secret for landing on your feet,” she enthused, admiration clear. “I wish all the troopers I’ve worked with turned out as well as you have.” He stopped in the gravel-covered courtyard, taking her bag as she eased out of the car. She followed him up the broad, low stone steps to the main entry and the heavy wooden door opened before them.
Servants took their coats and she set her bags out of the way in a small niche apparently designed for just that. Joschka led her into a large, wood-paneled room with a high, carved-beam ceiling and a blazing fire in the stone fireplace. “Papa!” a child’s voice called and two of the four children in the room swarmed the blue-eyed, brown-haired officer. The other pair, a teenaged boy and pre-teen girl, remained intent on their checkers game.
