Spears of the Sun (Star Sojourner Book 3)

by Jean Kilczer

  The officers stopped and crouched down in a submissive stance.

  I stared at the detonator.

  I can't remember ever feeling such raw hatred for a living creature. I don't argue with nature, but this abomination needed killing. If he were dead and cold, would his small army disband, their Oath of Loyalty no longer relevant? Would the Terran rogue scientists abandon their project with no means of recompense? Would the soldiers who guarded the dwarf community abandon their posts? This sacrifice on my part, and Fartherland might return to a peaceful planet, finally ready to become a member of the interstellar community.

  There was about a foot of chain between my wrists. Enough space, I thought, took a breath, perhaps my last, and threw myself at Rowdinth, intent on grabbing the unit and pushing the button.

  It was the leg irons that tripped me up. I fell into him and we both went down. He screamed something in his native tongue as I clawed for the unit. A Guard scooped it from his outstretched hand. The sudden weight of the other Guard as he threw himself on me squeezed the air from my lungs. Rowdinth was back on his feet. I saw him lift the walking stick above me. I shut my eyes and tried to cover my head, but the chain was held under a Guard's boot.

  The stick came down like a brick wall crashing into the side of my head. I screamed, as much from fear, and moaned as I waited for the blow to set off the device. It didn't. I opened my eyes. The room was shrinking to a darkening tunnel. I felt thick sweet liquid seep across my lips. I blinked and saw the raised stick. My head lay on cold stone as my muscles refused to respond. The second blow came as though from afar. I was glad when the tunnel closed down like a shield between me and this world of agony. I had done what I could and as my thoughts faded, I hoped I was drifting into geth state.

  No such luck.

  I moaned as the pounding in my head told me I was still attached to this mortal coil. Someone was stroking my hair. I rolled my head and blinked up into Rowdinth's snout. He stood over the cot I lay on and ran his knuckles gently down my cheek, my chest. I felt my pants being unzipped. The shackles were gone. I tried to lift my hand, to sit up, but couldn't. He probed where no one should probe without the probee's permission.

  “What do you want?” I croaked.

  “You're completely male,” he said in a high voice as he fondled me.

  The dark room was a blur, but I thought it was my old cell. “And you're a freak!” I mumbled as he pulled off my pants. “Get the hell away from me!” I tried to kick him but my leg wouldn't lift.

  The weakness deepened as he took off my shorts, and I couldn't stop him. “I'll kill you!” I muttered.

  “I don't think so, dear. This isn't going to hurt you as much as it will hurt me. I am female now.”

  I managed to lift a hand to his throat. I squeezed, but there was no strength behind my stranglehold.

  He laughed and pulled my hand away as he straddled my hips and lowered himself. I felt pressure on my penis. Good luck, I thought as night thickened again to utter darkness and all sensation went with it. Thank you, Great Mind, was my last thought as I welcomed the loss of consciousness.

  Something happened while I lay in that state. Besides Rowdinth using my body for his amusement park. Something I'd never experienced before.

  I dreamed I left my body behind and lifted into a night sky of our resplendent galaxy. I had no fear of falling. The stars were singing in vibrations of colors. There was a sense of love such as I'd never known with Althea or Willa, or even with my own daughter Lisa. Ahead was a light, the source of the great love. And I, along with crowds of other spirits, was moving toward it. Most of them entered the light, but a few, including myself, turned back.

  I rushed past nebulas where new star systems were forming with the promise of life. Past novae, the death of stars, and those enigmatic black holes that drink light, and eat whole star systems. Destroyer and Preserver, hear, Oh, hear! my heart cried out.

  Then Fartherland rushed up as though to embrace me in its gravity well, and the dream ended in blackness as my brain tried to cope with the trauma of the head injury.

  “Jules?” a feminine voice called in a whisper.

  “Fuck off, you miscreant.”

  “What?”

  I sat up gingerly. Particles of dust swirled in shafts of sunshine that streamed through the bars of a window above my head. The door, too, was barred. Rowdinth was gone. My clothes lay in a heap on the floor next to the blanket. I looked down at my crotch and felt dirty. “You miserable slimebag.”

  “Jules, is it ye, lad?”

  “Shannon?” I eased my legs over the cot and stumbled to my feet. “Shannon!” I wrapped the blanket around my waist. My head throbbed, but not nearly as bad as the night before. I touched it and felt a lump and scrapes on my left temple. I climbed on the cot and clutched the bars. “Shannon.” Her face was pressed against the bars. “Are you all right?” I asked her. “Where's Huff? Have you been in touch with Joe?” I looked around. “This cell must be bugged. Now listen to me. Your people are being held at the bottom of a dark canyon with a stream, between high granite walls. Rowdinth's soldiers are guarding it. Do you know where it is?”

  “Aye. Tis not far!”

  I heard the deep whine of Joe's rented hovair behind her. “Is Huff at the controls?”

  There were tears in her eyes as she nodded.

  “Now go!” I told her. “Tell Huff to get in touch with Joe.”

  She slipped an arm between the bars and touched my left temple. “What did they do to ye, lad?”

  “I'm all right.”

  “Here.” She pushed a white paper bag through the bars.

  I took it. “What's this?”

  A meal. The hovair camper is stocked for long voyages.”

  “Thanks.”

  She smiled, then stared at the sky. “There's a Shayl circling above.”

  “Drackin! He's Rowdinth's lackey. Now go.”

  I watched her turn and run, until she was out of sight. The hovair wailed into the sky full throttle.

  The sound faded to only the drip of water in the old sink. I rested my forehead on the bars. Stone walls do not a prison make, but they sure help.

  I sat down and took out a large plastic container from the bag. When I opened it, the heat filament snapped on. A mock steak sizzled. Mashed potatoes bubbled and butter melted. A chunk of bread turned crispy brown. Only the salad remained cold. I brought the dish to the small table, sat down, my hands trembling, and began to eat. When had I told Shannon that this was my favorite meal? The food was delicious, but it did nothing to melt the fear in my chest.

  After breakfast I washed myself at the tiny stained sink, brushed my teeth with soap on a finger, and ran wet fingers through my hair. My old escape route, through the meal slot, had been barred from the outside. I got into my clothes, laid down on the cot, and tried to make sense of the patterns of cracks in the ceiling. As with most of life, they were random and unfathomable.

  Wait a minute. I sat up. Something had happened last night while I lay unconscious, something that just now came back as I remembered the dream, if dream it were.

  Sye Morth, a friendly Loranth, was capable of those spirit flights. He told me how he got caught in a supernova during a flight and almost lost his kwaii in that incredible furnace. I'd assumed that leaving the body was a Loranth ability, since they're all telepaths, but suppose…just suppose…

  I laid back on the cot, closed my eyes and gathered my tel power. This time, instead of throwing it to influence a subject, or probing for information, I pictured it encompassing my own mind, my feelings, my experiences. All that I am.

  I heard the hall door slam. “Time for breakfast,” a Vermakt voice snapped. The forming image dribbled out of my ears.

  “Just leave it,” I told the husky guard. He had outgrown his uniform. The blue shirt was stretched across his belly. His jowls hung like layers of gray pancakes.

  “Can't do that.” He unlocked the barred food slot and pushed through a co
vered tray. “Have to stay and watch you eat. Take away the tray. And the utensils.” He lifted gray-furred brows.

  “Take it away now. I'm not hungry.”

  “Can't do that either.”

  “What the hell can you do?”

  “Stay and watch –”

  “Me eat! Is your boss afraid I'm going to starve myself to death?”

  “General Rowdinth is not afraid of anything, especially depraved Terrans. He will give you your orders after he returns from important business with our Vermakt villages. Now eat.”

  Probably more campaigning, I thought. “If I do, will you go away?”

  “It will be my pleasure.” He twitched his graying snout.

  I swung off the cot, sat at the table and lifted the cover off the tray. Some kind of cereal mush and a cup of red liquid. “Will you join me?”

  “That is Terran food.”

  I tried a spoonful, hoping I could eat again and get rid of him. It tasted like shredded cardboard. “Where'd you get this food, the local hospital?”

  “No. Alien Health: 'We Serve the Stars'.”

  “Figures!” I rubbed my eyes. “I can't eat this.

  “Reason?”

  “I'm allergic to cardboard.”

  “Eat it anyway so I can leave.”

  “You want to leave?”

  “Did I not just say that?”

  “Let me oblige.” I picked up the bowl and threw it at him. The bowl bounced off the bars, which dripped mush cereal, as did the guard. I picked up the cup of red stuff. “Care for dessert?”

  He got up without wiping off the mush, took out a key and unlocked the cell door.

  Uh oh. I backed to the cot. Do not harm my captive telepath, I sent. That is an order from your General and Master.

  He swayed. “You're doing that! I was warned.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Trying to scare me!”

  “Why would I want to scare you?”

  “So I won't smash in your flat, hairless face!”

  “General Rowdinth would not take kindly to damaging me any further than I already am.” I touched the lump on my temple. “Suppose I lose my tel powers because of you? His sharks look hungry.” I shook my head.

  He growled something in Vermaktese, turned and stomped out of the cell, then remembered and turned back and locked it.

  Dammit!

  He jabbed a pudgy finger with a ragged claw at me. “You will only get solid food at your next feeding! Terran cat!” he muttered, brushed off his uniform, picked up the tray and strode down the hall.

  Keep going, I sent. He hadn't locked the food slot and I knew from a past escape that I could fit through it. I closed my eyes. Keep going!

  He paused, turned, and strode back, still holding the tray. “The Altairians are correct,” he said. “You Terrans are all pritculls!” He slammed the bar shut across the slot and locked it.

  I returned to the cot and laid down, my hands behind my head.

  Now where was I?

  Oh, yeah. Floating off-planet.

  I gathered my powers again, encompassed my own mind, and pictured myself lifting, breaking away from my body. All it did was make me dizzy. This was not going to be easy, if possible at all. But I had one thing going for me.

  Time. I hoped. While the master was away.

  I spent the day, without interruption of lunch or supper, my punishment, I guess, trying to break the connection between mind and body. Finally, I fell asleep.

  And dreamed.

  I was drifting above Fartherland's night beaches. Below me a convoy of unmarked military jeeps plowed through the sand from the direction of the spaceport, their headlights bouncing. I watched armed Terran and alien soldiers in ragged ghillie suits for camouflage as they jumped out of the vehicles, armed to the teeth, and threw sand-colored tarps over the vehicles. In the sky above them, light military starships circled.

  Was that Joe, with Shelley and Chancey, running from a hovair to meet the them?

  Something flew past me with great wings flapping. Drackin! He had seen the arrival of the Shaka teams and was on his way to report it to Rowdinth.

  Joe! I called in my dream and followed Drackin. Joe, he's going to warn Rowdinth. Get him!

  In a jeep's headlights, I saw Joe look up and point at Drackin. He said something to the captain of a team. The captain lifted his weapon to fire but Shelley knocked it aside.

  Shelley! Why? I thought.

  Drackin plunged below the cover of high dunes and glided toward the citadel.

  Chancey hit Shelley across the face and she fell.

  One of the Shaka soldiers pointed his weapon at her still form.

  No! I cried.

  He fired. Her body jerked and lay still.

  Oh, God. Shelley!

  I heard myself moan in my sleep.

  Then I was flying above the holo-shielded citadel while Fartherland's moons lit my way. I watched Drackin land, fold his wings and lope toward an entrance.

  Rowdinth's holo camouflage shield above the citadel faded to reveal heavy beam missile sites.

  Uh oh!

  I drew in a sharp breath and sat up on the cot. I was back in the cell, alone. It was night. A bare bulb lit the room with deep shadows. What was that tapping sound? The drip of water from the old sink.

  Shelley… Had it been just a dream? I'd never had such a vivid dream.

  If it were real, then Rowdinth had already warned the scientists to activate the defense systems, whatever those systems were, or just take their project on wheels and run like hell.

  I laid back and rubbed my eyes. No. This hadn't been a dream. Unless all of life was a dream.

  I closed my eyes and sought the beach image again, formed it like a mind painting with sand and pebbles and reeds. I brushed in military jeeps and soldiers running across the dunes in flapping ghillie suits.

  The painting took on life and I knew I was looking through some warp in space at the real beach.

  Shelley… Her body lay abandoned on the dark sand.

  Why, Shelley?

  Was it the money? Or had Rowdinth managed to threaten her with death, or the death of someone she loved? I'd never know. I said a prayer to Great Mind, asking for Shelley to have a good renewal from geth, and turned my attention to the coming battle at the lab.

  I saw Joe jump into the lead jeep to direct the teams to the lab. Chancey slid into the back seat. Plumes of deep sand sprayed in their wakes as the jeeps tore in the direction of the lab, between the two hillocks.

  This elite force would not let anyone or anything stand in the way of their mission to capture or destroy the weapon. I wondered how tough and well-trained were Rowdinth's soldiers, or if they feared their own master more than they feared the enemy? Cell living wasn't so bad after all, I thought and folded my hands behind my head. It was kind of like playing hooky from life. At least for a while. For a while I could tarry.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I swung off the cot and stood as the hall door slammed open and booted feet marched down the metal floor. Four Vermakt Elite Guards came to my cell door in their black and silver uniforms, like rats in Sunday dress. One unlocked the door.

  “Time for supper?” I said, though fear said otherwise, just when I was getting used to the security of the cell.

  A Guard came in, grabbed my arm, and yanked me through the cell door. He said something to the others in Vermaktese, and they all wagged their heads and snorted. They guided me down the hall and the tunnel beyond, and outside the citadel.

  I squinted in the harsh headlights of an idling hovair that whined as the pilot checked the engines. A cold sea breeze with a bite to it salted the air and rifled through my hair. A chill went through me, and I zippered my jacket and turned up the collar.

  “Get in,” a Guard ordered and shoved me toward the hovair's door.

  I boarded the craft and sat down, flanked by Guards. What devious scheme had Rowdinth conjured? Did he think to use me as a shield at the lab so the
Shaka teams wouldn't enter? I thought of Shelley's cold body lying in the sand. I wish you luck, General, I thought. “I guess there's no use asking,” I asked, “but where are we going?”

  No answer.

  I stared at the sky as the craft lifted. The stars that waited for me. Willa…?

  The pilot banked toward the lights of Gorestail, the town that never sleeps, where miners enjoyed the varied and not always ethical forms of entertainment. But some came with their families to shop and take in a holo from their home worlds.

  Oh, God. I sat up straight. Why hadn't I thought of it before? I wasn't to be a shield, but an ultimatum. If the battle went badly for Rowdinth, he could play his ace card and threaten to blow up Gorestail unless the Shaka teams backed off. Would Alpha sacrifice Gorsetail to help save Earth? No contest!

  The craft landed in the town square.

  “Get out,” a Guard ordered.

  I did.

  And was escorted by three of them to a bench near limestone statues of aliens from all the known races, lit by a fountain that sprayed water through colored lights. Clustered around the square were the hotels, restaurants, recharge stations, the medical center and shops; the heart of Gorestail.

  One Guard had remained inside the craft, probably to keep in touch with the Vermakt ground troops in the battle that must be raging by now at the lab.

  Another Guard motioned for me to sit on the bench.

  I sat down and stared at the town square. But the general had a pair, a pair of aces, that is. If the battle went badly, and he fled off-planet in his private ship with his prize weapon-on-wheels, then his reasoning would be that he would blow up Gorestail, and the Shaka teams would turn back to help the survivors. The fact that Vermakts lived among alien neighbors in town would mean nothing to Rowdinth. What he didn't know was that the teams would never abandon their primary mission.

  I stared at the gathering crowd and bit my lip. I never thought I'd root for Rowdinth to win a battle, but it could save Gorestail. And my ass. Some of the people held children in their arms or by the hand as they walked into the square.

  I leaned forward. “Get away from here!” I shouted to them. “The Guards are going to explode a nuclear bomb!”