Drifter's War

by William C. Dietz

  Other heavies rose around him, their roars of outrage echoing his, and took the bullets directed at him.

  The Sand Sept troopers opened up with automatic weapons. Dozens of heavies stumbled and fell. But others rose to fill the gaps and the Il Ronnians staggered under a wall of solid flesh.

  The aliens were skilled in a martial art called "Infala," or "personal death," but the heavies weighed three hundred pounds apiece and were unbelievably strong. Weapons fell silent as flesh thudded against flesh, bones cracked, and alien screams filled the air.

  Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the battle was over. Teex and his personal bodyguard had withdrawn, bodies lay everywhere, and dazed constructs stood looking around. A full lak passed in silence. An elderly heavy named Lebar-6 was the first to speak.

  "What shall we do now?"

  A light named Issara-22 answered. She was tall, slender, and almost regal in the way that she held herself. "The aliens will be angry. Those who took part in the killing must surrender themselves for the greater good. The rest have nothing to fear."

  There was a moment of silence while the heavies processed that. They were slow, but it didn't take very much intelligence to realize that while most of the heavies had taken part in the battle, none of the lights had.

  Lebar-6 spoke once again. He ignored Issara-22's comment as though it had never been spoken. "Wexel-15 led us. What does he say?"

  Wexel-15 was surprised to have the mantle of leadership thrust upon him, but had been thinking of what to do, and the words tumbled out.

  "We have learned something here. The aliens die just as we do. Go to the country. Hide. Wait for instructions."

  Issara-22 raised her voice in protest, and other lights did likewise, but to no avail.

  Within seconds the heavies had streamed out into the gathering darkness and disappeared.

  When Teex returned with a hundred heavily armed Sand Sept troopers, the lights were still there, discussing how stupid the heavies were and professing their innocence.

  Teex ordered them to remove the Il Ronnian dead and prepare their bodies for burial. The lights were unused to such heavy labor but obeyed nonetheless. The aliens were understandably angry and some form of punishment was to be expected.

  Then, when the constructs had finished and were lined up before him, Teex shot them. He used his own handgun and did it one at a time. Their bodies were hung upside down in the square for all to see.

  Wexel-15 didn't know it yet… but he had declared war on the entire Il Ronnian empire.

  9

  Lando awoke to the pitter-patter of rain on his face. Just a drop or two at first but that soon changed. Suddenly the rain came down hard and fast, soaking his blanket and flooding the mossy growth that served as his mattress.

  They'd been in hyperspace for five days now, and with the exception of Cy, the rest of them slept in the drifter's nest-beds. Lando's was located within a grove of the strange two-trunked trees only a foot or so from Della's. He sat up, wiped rain from his face, and looked around.

  "What the heck's going on?"

  Della was in the process of getting up. Her hair was wet and hung in dark ringlets around her face. She pointed off to one side. "I don't know… but look at that!"

  Lando looked, saw an empty nest-bed, and didn't understand what Della meant until he realized that this one was completely dry! The rainstorm was confined to an area about twelve by twelve feet in size!

  Della stood, stepped away from her bed, and held her hands palms up. Nothing. She looked at Lando and raised an eyebrow.

  The smuggler rolled to his knees and stood. The rain stopped.

  There was a rustling sound and Cap appeared. His clothes were soaked and he was clearly annoyed. "What's going on around here?"

  Lando smoothed wet hair into place and tightened his ponytail. "My thoughts exactly. Did the rain seem to concentrate on your beds?"

  Melissa appeared from behind her father. She wore a big grin. "It sure did! Weird, huh? What does it mean?"

  What indeed? Lando looked around. Tendrils of vapor floated up from the recently dampened ground. He shrugged.

  "I don't know. Unless it's the ship's way of getting our attention. Let's find Cy and see if he knows what's going on."

  The others nodded their agreement and followed Lando back toward the control room. Cy had been trying to reestablish communications with the drifter ever since their unexpected departure. But the ship couldn't or wouldn't reply.

  The others had been angry with the cyborg at first, chiding him for the experiments that led to their present predicament, and using him as an outlet for their considerable frustration.

  Cap had been especially upset, pointing out that the drifter had been their only source of leverage, and the only thing of value they had left.

  But leverage and money didn't seem quite so important anymore. Larger issues confronted them now. Like where was the ship taking them? Could they find a way to get off? And how would they return from wherever they were?

  Besides, it was hard to stay mad at the little cyborg for very long. He was so sorry, and so miserable, that even Cap was forced to accept his apologies.

  "Pik! Look!"

  Lando turned. The forest was almost completely dark. Whatever planet the biosphere was modeled on, assuming there was one, had enjoyed long days and short nights. Nights during which it never became truly dark. Now almost total darkness had fallen over the forest. Why?

  Della met Lando's eye. "Something or somebody wants us to leave."

  Lando shrugged. "Not too subtle, huh? Well, we wanted to get off. This could be our chance."

  "Yeah," Cap put in. "But how? We were in hyperspace last I heard."

  The momentary nausea came right on cue, as if the ship were listening and had reacted to Cap's words.

  The humans paused to look at each other. "I don't like this," Della said, her hand straying to the slug gun at her waist.

  "Neither do I," Lando agreed. "Come on. The darkness is closing in on us."

  They walked faster and darkness nipped at their heels. It had edged around the group by now, and slid along both sides, so that a tunnel of light led them toward the lock. They entered and the hatch closed behind them.

  It took two minutes for the lock to cycle open. Cy was waiting for them. He bobbed up and down with worry and concern.

  "There you are! Thank Sol! I tried to come after you but the ship wouldn't let me. I couldn't get the lock to open."

  Lando nodded. "Yeah, we ran into the same sort of thing. It seems as if we have B O or something. Have you got any idea what's going on? We felt a hyperspace shift a few moments ago."

  "Really?" Cy had gained some additional senses along with his artificial body but lost others as well. And the moment of nausea that most people felt while entering or leaving hyperspace was one of them. "I'll try the interface again. Maybe it'll work this time."

  The cyborg squirted himself over to the black globe that he had previously identified as the drifter's NAVCOMP, extruded a pincer, and allowed it to sink through the glossy surface.

  All his most recent attempts to establish contact with the ship had ended in failure. A part of him expected this one to fail as well. It didn't.

  Suddenly and without warning Cy was the ship. He knew the vessel had entered normal space, knew the drifter was headed for the nearest planet, and knew hostile ships would try to intercept him.

  They came in hard and fast, twelve delta-shaped interceptors of Il Ronnian design, unsure of who or what the drifter was, but determined to take control of it.

  Cy felt himself bombarded with messages. They came in dozens of languages and all of them said the same thing. "Kill power, neutralize weapons systems, and wait to be boarded."

  The drifter understood but made no attempt to respond. Green blobs lashed out from the hull, hit the interceptors like giant sledgehammers, and batted them away.

  The surviving interceptors fired as larger ships moved in and di
d likewise. Missiles, torpedoes, and computer-controlled bombs struck the blobs and exploded with little or no effect.

  Cy winced as the drifter lashed out in response. A pair of blobs grabbed an Il Ronnian destroyer and broke it in half. Fire blossomed, then disappeared.

  "What's going on?" Lando's voice came from far, far away. It was hard to be the ship and explain things at the same time. Cy did the best he could.

  "You were right about the hyperspace shift. I have data on our position but don't understand what it means. We're surrounded by Il Ronnian warships. They ordered us to stop but the drifter ignored them. Some interceptors attacked but the blobs beat 'em back. Damn… there goes a destroyer! The blobs broke it in half.

  "We're heading toward what looks like an Earth-normal planet. That's our destination. I don't know how I know, but I know. Wait a minute, the interface is fading and the ship is pushing me out!"

  Cy pulled his pincer out of the black globe and bobbed up and down apologetically. "Sorry."

  "It wasn't your fault," Lando said thoughtfully. "The ship has a purpose now. It wants us to know about some things and not about others."

  Della nodded in agreement. "So, what's next?"

  Lando looked around almost expecting the ship to answer but it didn't. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into an hour, and hours into the better part of a day.

  They were trapped in the control room. Repeated attempts to leave had proved that, so some caught up on previously interrupted sleep, and the others killed time any way they could. Lando was asleep when Della shook his arm.

  "Pik… look."

  The control room was filled with eerie green light. It grew stronger with each passing second.

  "How long has it been here?"

  "Five, maybe ten seconds."

  Lando got to his feet. "I have a bad feeling about this." He gestured to Cap, Melissa, and Cy. "Come on, everybody. Get into the center of the room. Let's hold hands."

  Della gave him a curious look but did as he requested. They formed a ring and held each other's hands or, in Cy's case, pincers.

  The greenish light thickened around them until they couldn't see beyond it. Then it swirled and the floor dropped out from under them. Their senses told them they were falling yet nothing seemed to move. Melissa looked scared and bit her lip.

  Lando swallowed and forced a smile. "Don't worry, hon. We're inside one of those green blobs. There's nothing to worry about. We'll be dirtside in a few seconds."

  That's what I hope anyway, Lando thought to himself, unless this is the ship's way of ejecting unwanted debris. In which case we'll turn inside out the moment the blob disappears.

  But the blob didn't disappear. Not until something hard materialized under their feet and the greenish light began to fade.

  Yellow sunlight flooded around them, strange odors filled their nostrils, and foreign sounds assailed their ears.

  "Holy Sol." Cap uttered the words softly like a prayer.

  Lando knew what the older man meant. The blob had put them down in the middle of a city, or more accurately a village, because it was small and occupied the top of a low hill. The smuggler could see where the whitewashed buildings left off and the fields began.

  The place had a strange feel, not primitive exactly, but not high-tech either. Maybe it was the round, almost quaint stone houses, mixed with motorized vehicles, streetlights, and agrobots.

  There were people around them, humanoids anyway, who looked as dumbfounded as they felt. All had lavender-colored skin, four-fingered hands, and bald heads. They were muscular and built low to the ground. They looked like a race of weight lifters. What he assumed were males tended toward craggy brows, massive shoulders, and short, muscular legs. Most wore little more than shorts and sandals.

  The females, and they seemed obviously female, had the same low foreheads but more rounded faces. They wore brightly colored saronglike dresses that covered them from chest to midthigh.

  Children ran here and there, screamed with excitement, and gabbled things in a language that he'd never heard before.

  Though different from each other the humanoids looked similar as well, as if they all belonged to the same family. The adults seemed curious rather than scared and talked excitedly among themselves.

  Lando stepped forward. "Does anyone speak standard?"

  A male, this one older than the rest, stepped forward to meet him. He gestured toward the center of the village and said something the smuggler couldn't understand.

  Lando started to smile, remembered that bared teeth can be interpreted in a lot of different ways, and settled for a nod instead.

  The smuggler was just about to try universal sign language when the crowd parted and another being appeared. This individual was unlike the villagers in every way.

  She was tall, slender, and pink. Not white-pink, but pink-pink, like a neon sign. She had large eyes, a long, narrow face, and wore a cloak that rippled in the breeze.

  A leader perhaps? Some sort of official? There was no way to be sure.

  The female looked around, said something to the elderly male, and nodded at his reply. Though unlike anything Lando had seen before her sign language was clear enough. She pointed to the sky and then to Lando.

  "You came from the sky?"

  Lando repeated her motions and added a nod.

  "Yes."

  Though unsure of her facial expressions Lando thought she was more pleased than surprised. What did that mean? Were green blobs a common occurrence? Did visitors arrive all the time?

  The female pointed to the sky, made hard jabbing motions with her index finger, and drew an imaginary circle around the humans.

  Lando turned to Della. "I missed that one. Any ideas?"

  "I think she means combat," Della answered. "She's asking if the Il Ronnians attacked us."

  Lando raised an eyebrow. It didn't seem all that clear to him, but anything was possible, so he delivered a formal nod.

  "Yes."

  The female bowed. She turned and spoke to the crowd. Although Lando didn't understand a single word of what she said, there was a commanding quality to the way she said it, and a sense of urgency as well. And the way that the villagers hurried off served to reinforce that impression.

  The female waved an arm. The meaning was obvious. "Come with me."

  Lando looked at the others. Della nodded, Cap shrugged, and Cy bobbed up and down. Melissa was using sign language to communicate with a peer. The other child was inspecting her hair.

  "Hey, Mel."

  "Yes?"

  "We're leaving."

  "Okay." Melissa signed something to her friend. The other little girl smiled shyly, bobbed her head, and ran away.

  Lando filed it away. Smiles were okay.

  Melissa ran to catch up. She took her father's hand. "That was Lela-17. Pretty, isn't she?"

  Cap nodded dutifully and Lando smiled. If only grown-ups could make friends as easily as children did.

  The female led them out of the village and into the fields. She walked so fast that Melissa had to jog in order to keep up. Why? It was as if the female knew that some kind of trouble was on the way.

  The crops were richly green, small bushes mostly, that bore brightly colored berries. They grew in surveyor-straight rows and were drip irrigated. Miles of clear plastic tubing stretched in every direction.

  Lando found that interesting since it implied long dry spells and a certain level of technological sophistication.

  They had gone a mile, maybe two, when Lando heard a low rumble. It came from the east. Lando looked and saw four black specks. Aerospace fighters or something very similar. The Il Ronnians had tracked the green blob all the way to the ground and sent aircraft to investigate!

  Their guide reacted before Lando could. She waved her arms, spoke rapidly, and herded them into the nearest field. The soil gave slightly under their feet. Lando noticed that the bushes had a rich spicy smell.

  The female said something urgent and ges
tured toward a wooden platform. The message was clear. "Move this, and move it fast."

  Lando and Melissa took one side with Della and Cap on the other. The female made no effort to help.

  The planes were louder now and Lando remembered his earlier thoughts. The female had known the Il Ronn were on the way. Was that simply a good guess? Or something a good deal more?

  Della took command. "On three. One, two, and three!" The platform was heavy but manageable. It came away from the ground suddenly as if it hadn't been moved for a long, long time. A host of insects scurried for cover.

  A vertical shaft was revealed. The top portion of a ladder could be seen. The female pointed emphatically downward.

  Cap went first, followed by Melissa, Della, Cy, and Lando.

  The female came last. Like Cap, Della, and Lando, she used every other rung of the ladder, which suggested that it had been constructed by and for the villagers.

  Regardless of that, her descent afforded Lando a glimpse of some long shapely legs. His smile disappeared when he turned to find Della watching him with an amused smile. He coughed and looked the other way.

  The ladder rested on a gallery that ran the length of the tunnel. Thousands of footsteps had beaten it hard and flat.

  The tunnel was well engineered. It was fifteen or twenty feet in diameter, arrow-straight, and reinforced with sturdy beams. Lando touched one and encountered metal rather than wood. Another interesting discovery. The villagers, or if not them, then whoever had constructed the tunnel, built things to last.

  A stream ran along the very bottom of the tunnel. It made gurgling sounds and was the source of water for the fields above.

  There was a series of dull thumps and the ground shook. Bombs? Lando thought about the villagers and hoped they were okay.

  The female said something and waved them on. They followed her into a sort of murky twilight. Looking ahead, Lando saw evenly spaced pools of light that marched away to vanish in the distance. Someone had used arrays of cleverly angled mirrors to bring sunlight down from the surface. More evidence of technological sophistication.