Planet Origins

by Lucia Ashta

  “Right.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Exactly,” Dolpheus said. “Are you sure we can’t just kill her and save ourselves the agony?”

  I knew my friend well enough to realize that he was only partly serious. Neither one of us were the kind of people that would kill without a thought as to what the action meant and without grave consideration of the finality of death. But neither one of us enjoyed complications that disturbed the relative comfort of our daily lives either, especially when they came in the female form. Dolpheus kept his trysts casual mostly to avoid the complications that inevitably came with attachment. This would be a change in lifestyle neither one of us would like.

  “Think of it this way,” I said. “Maybe something good will come from her continued company. We didn’t anticipate that she’d be the source of the information we needed for the King when we first took her. Perhaps there’s something still unforeseen in the future that’ll be sufficient reason to put up with her.”

  Dolpheus huffed again, doing more complaining than I’d seen him do in a long while. “I hope so. Because I’m not looking forward to this.”

  “Hey, at least she likes you. She doesn’t seem to like me much.”

  “I’m not sure her liking me is going to make things easier for me.”

  I chuckled. Dolpheus glared at me, which made me laugh harder. “Jerk,” he said, and I tried in earnest to stop laughing. I didn’t really want to upset my friend. I hadn’t forgotten that he was only in this mess because of me. “So what are we going to do with her exactly?” I asked, trying to achieve seriousness.

  Yet another sigh from Dolpheus, this one of resignation. “Well, we can’t risk transporting with her. It’s too dangerous. Even if she is one of the few who knows how to transport on her own, we still can’t risk it. We have no way to ensure that she’ll transport with us while we’re in the midst of the process. She could escape.”

  “Agreed. Transporting is out. And obviously we can’t just set up camp here until things resolve themselves. We need to get away from here as soon as possible. The longer we stay in the vicinity of the facility, the higher our chances of discovery.”

  “Where can we take her?”

  “I don’t want to take her to our estate. I don’t want her meddling with our private lives any more than she already has.”

  “Our estate is safe. And private,” Dolpheus argued.

  “It is. But I don’t want to take her there.”

  “Okay. So where? One of the station cabins?”

  “Yeah. Maybe. They’re removed enough that no one’ll be able to hear her if she screams, which means that we can leave her alone while we go away without having to gag her.”

  “We’ll still need to tie her up though,” he said.

  “I think so too. One of the station cabins might be the place. Few people know about them.”

  “Your father does.”

  “True. But I can’t imagine he’s been to any of them in a long while. He doesn’t take time out from the splicing to hunt anymore, at least not that I know of. And I doubt that he makes time to retreat into the forest for silence or meditation as he used to when I was a boy.”

  “Where do you think he goes when he tells his employees that he doesn’t want to be disturbed?”

  “I don’t know. Home, I would guess. He has everything he needs there to ensure comfort. It’s over-the-top private. No one enters unless he wants them to. And the only person there with him is Aletox.”

  “And servants.”

  “Sure, but you know my father has no issue with ordering people to remain out of sight when that’s what he wants.”

  “So which cabin should we go to? Which one is safest? The one in the western wilds?”

  “Perhaps. That one’s probably the safest. It’s most removed from the trails the merchants use to trade with the rebels and wilderness dwellers. We’d have the highest chance of not being noticed by any wandering passerby.”

  “Then let’s go there.”

  “Look at that,” I said. “She’s actually glaring at us right now.” Lila’s hands had come to her hips in imitation of us. She was staring straight at us.

  “What do you think she’s thinking with that she-dragon look on her face?”

  “I have no idea. And I think that might be a good thing. Her mind seems to be an unstable and stormy place. Wait,” I said. “I just remembered a station cabin that I’d nearly forgotten entirely. My father took me there only once when I was a boy. I haven’t been back since, nor have I heard my father mention it. He took me fishing and we stayed there. If I remember it right, it was pretty rudimentary. Less fixed up than the others.”

  “Which would make it perfect. I think your father enjoys his comforts now. He’d be less likely to go somewhere he has to rough it. At least, that’s what I think.”

  “I think you’re right. It’s just the place for us,” I said.

  “So where is it?”

  “I hope I can find it. It was along the Gorgeene River, deep in the wilds.”

  “We won’t be able to find it based on that. Do you remember anything more?”

  I stared off into the distance, searching for the memory. Lila caught my stare and tried to hold onto it. I turned to look some place else knowing that Dolpheus wouldn’t let her out of his sight. “I remember a big, flowing tree and an outcropping of rocks from which you could see far into the wilds on any side.”

  “That still won’t help us much, Tan.”

  “No, Olph, I think it will. I remember, the tree was huge. Really, really big. Bigger than normal trees.”

  “It might be down in the southern wilds then. The forests are thicker there, older.”

  “You’re right. It must be there. Let’s hope.”

  “And let’s hope that no one’s cut down that tree too. They’ve been felling the forests all over the place. The King’s been distracted by your father’s attacks and hasn’t had his forces policing the forests as much as usual. I hear that some of the forests are nearly decimated.”

  “Well then let’s hope this one isn’t.”

  “That gives us lots to hope for.”

  “It does. We’ll just have to be open to changing our plans if we can’t find the station cabin.”

  Dolpheus nodded. A good soldier always kept an open mind, willing to shift plans along with the tides of battle and life. Certainly, in life, there were no guarantees, not even in times of peace. Not ever.

  “How will we get there?” Dolpheus said. It was a question we didn’t often ask ourselves. There was no process more efficient and streamlined for any kind of travel across Origins than transporting.

  “We’ll have to use a flyer of some sort.”

  “Take one of those over there?” Dolpheus signaled with his head toward the employee parking lot that was behind the building, hidden from sight.

  “That would be easiest.” We could borrow it instead of steal it, returning it once we’d finished with it. “But it’d be noticed missing soon. That would raise alarms. No one should be out here that doesn’t belong. The facility is too remote and its security too heightened to draw a common thief. We can take a flyer somewhere else, closer to a main population.”

  “So we walk? With her in tow?”

  “I don’t see any other alternative. We can’t call a travel service. That would leave witnesses and all sorts of opportunities for Lila to cause trouble for us.”

  “Well, this ought to be fun. She’s glaring at us again. She’s been staring at us almost the entire time we’ve been over here talking,” Dolpheus said. “Do you think we can walk with her without securing her mouth?”

  “If you work your manly magic on her.”

  “And if we’re willing to listen to whatever she might have to say during the hours of walking.”

  “You don’t think she’ll call out for help if we leave her as she is?” I asked.

  Dolpheus deliberated. “No, I don’t think so. I think she’s too
interested in our situation. I don’t think her desire to destroy your father’s splicing facility is lacking in self-interest. I don’t think it’s just about her wish to rid the world of an evil, as she calls it. There’s something more there. There has to be. And if she thinks she might be able to persuade us to do her dirty work for her, she’ll play along.”

  “All right. You have a good point. She doesn’t seem like the generous, heroic type.”

  “Definitely not. She seems like the vengeful, kill-you-in-your-sleep type. That innocent face and those big eyes aren’t fooling me.”

  “Let’s make sure to take the ties you tore from my shirt with us. We’ll probably still need them.”

  “Regrettably, I think you’re right. This doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy.”

  “Come on, Olph. We’ve taken on the baddest of the bad soldiers. The fiercest of the creatures of the wilds. Rebels with nothing to lose.”

  “I know. But women, especially angry, vicious women, are more dangerous than any of them put together. I don’t trust this one’s motives. She’s out to burn your father, and I don’t understand why.”

  “So we’ll have to be alert. We can do that.”

  “And we’ll have to play her game. We’ll have to play it well.”

  “And get rid of her just as soon as we can,” I said.

  “That very same second.”

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “As ready as I’ll be for this.”

  “Let’s go.”

  We headed back toward our petite captive, dreading the upcoming travels more than any battle. She looked back at us with what I was certain she must have thought was allure and the promise of fun. It made the thought of what lay ahead all the worse.

  Thirty

  We’d been walking for hours, but the hours seemed liked days. The Auxle Sun would set at any moment, already kissing the horizon it would soon slip beneath. The sky was fluorescent. Grayish clouds stood out in contrast against its yellow, laying out a feast for the eyes. I was grateful for the distraction and the reminder that there were many things to be grateful for, even if Lila hadn’t stopped talking except to draw breath since we first left the field across from the splicing facility.

  If she’d been speaking of the splicing process, I might not have minded it as much; there would have been sufficient reason to bear it. But it was nonsense. She obviously didn’t think so, attributing importance to seemingly anything that crossed her mind.

  Dolpheus and I had traveled long distances thousands of times, and the circumstances hadn’t always supported the efficiency of transporting. However, when he and I traveled across the land, we were mostly silent. Even with troops of soldiers under our command following immediately behind us, thousands of men didn’t produce as much chatter as this one woman.

  I would have blamed women in general, knowing they’re more prone to talking than men. Yet not all women feel the urge to fill silence merely for the sake of filling it. Many people—both women and men—understand that silence holds value and can be an essential factor to maintaining reflection and inner calm.

  Walking with Lila, half listening to her constant chatter, I wanted desperately to escape the barrage of sound, to shield myself from it; it was an assault. I wanted to hear the birdcalls and the rustling leaves of the ancient trees that spanned above us. I wanted to hear the wind.

  I needed to be able to hear the calls of predators. No particular predator in this area of the forest was overly threatening to us on its own, but a pack could cause trouble. We wouldn’t hear them until they were upon us. I couldn’t hear my own thoughts or what I yearned for most: a lack thereof, a removal from everything, a stillness that allowed me to recover from whatever ordeal I experienced.

  “Can’t we find horses to ride or something?” she was saying in a whiny voice that sparked renewed sympathy in me for parents worldwide. “My legs are tired.”

  “I’d imagine her mouth would be tired,” Dolpheus said to me under his breath.

  We didn’t bother replying to her. We’d realized early on that she neither expected nor required answers from us. She’d continue whether we participated in the conversation or not.

  “There must be horses around here somewhere that you can steal. Don’t people ride horses anymore? They must. We should be looking for horses not just traipsing aimlessly through the woods.”

  Of course, we weren’t traipsing aimlessly. We were cutting the most direct route we could, taking into account changes in terrain, toward the fishing cabin in the southern wilds. But we wouldn’t be able to make it there on foot, not with Lila. The journey would take several days, and Dolpheus and I would either go mad from her drivel or kill her and regret it later. We were already looking for horses, or for any other kind of beast, that could carry us where we were going faster. The route we’d chosen led across horse ranches soon.

  We weren’t thieves despite Lila’s casual assumptions that men of battle like us must be. We had principles of our own, and we kept to them—ordinarily. We didn’t cause unnecessary destruction. And we didn’t steal. Still, these were desperate times.

  Finally, the Auxle Sun completed its journey below the horizon. Almost an hour of near darkness followed, when the only thing to dispel it was the purple light of the Plune Moon, dim in comparison even to the Auxle Sun, the least bright of Origins’ two suns. The Plune Moon shone just enough to highlight dips and rises in the forest floor, for those that were still and patient enough to see.

  Dolpheus and I stalked quietly through the forest, avoiding roots and stones easily enough. Lila, however, who lacked the inner stillness necessary to flow with the forest, emitted a near constant litany of yelps, ouches, and ows. Dolpheus’ soft chuckles reached my ears a few times, and I was surprised that he should enjoy someone else’s misery. It wasn’t like him. Lila must have pushed him to an edge he didn’t often reach.

  “You know,” I said to her, and it wasn’t the first time since we left that I made a suggestion like it, “if you just slow down and really see what’s in front of you, you won’t trip or hurt yourself as much.”

  “How do you expect me to slow down when you keep walking so fast?” she snapped.

  “I don’t mean for you to slow down your steps. I mean for you to slow down your mind.”

  “That’s ridiculous. How will slowing down my mind help me see better in the dark? Ouch.” She tripped, tromped loudly for a few steps, tripped again, then, “Besides, there’s no way that I’d want to slow down my mind if that’s what you two are doing. You’re the dullest people I’ve ever met. You don’t even talk. Haven’t you ever heard of polite conversation? It’s not polite to ignore people.”

  I was pretty sure she would change her mind about wanting us to speak if she had any idea of the effect she was having on us. For the first time since I met her, I wondered what could have made her the way she was. What was she masking inside with this outward aggression? Was it as simple as unhappiness? Did she make sure right from the start that people wouldn’t like her so they wouldn’t want to get close and potentially hurt her? What was it? No one was like this because they wanted to be. No one that was like this could like herself very much. Then I wondered, why would my father, a highly intolerant man, be willing to put up with her character? Perhaps her skill set was greater than we’d previously suspected. My father did everything with a reason in mind. He would have to have a very good reason for dealing with someone like Lila.

  “There,” Dolpheus said, the relief in his voice plain. I followed his outstretched arm to see where he was pointing. Finally, a horse ranch. When we neared it, Dolpheus said, “Lila, you’ll need to be completely silent now.”

  “Why? And why do you think you can keep ordering me around? I’m not your captive anymore. We’re partners. I gave you information that you’ll be able to use to return the Princess. That counts for a lot.”

  That did count for a lot, but it certainly didn’t make us partners. “Lila,” I sa
id in the unusual reversal of roles in which I had more patience than Dolpheus, “You need to be silent because we’re about to take horses from that ranch, just like you wanted us to. But we’ll be discovered before we can take any horse if you keep making noise the way you have been.”

  “You’ve been complaining about walking for hours. If you want to ride a horse, you can’t make a sound,” Dolpheus said. “Not one.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Fine.”

  When we were near enough to the corral that we could make out each horse, we stopped next to a large tree that was capable of concealing Lila. I turned to her. “You’ll need to stay here in absolute silence. Don’t make a sound until we tell you that you can.” I could almost feel the wheels turning in Dolpheus’ mind, making a joke, or maybe a hopeful wish. We wouldn’t tell her she could make a sound. Ever.

  “Okay, I guess,” she said.

  “Horses spook easily,” I continued, “especially when they don’t know the people approaching them. If the horses spook, they’ll make noise. The noise will rouse their caretakers. If the horses rouse their caretakers, we won’t be able to take a horse for you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand. I’ll be quiet. Jeesh.”

  “And remain out of sight, behind the tree, just in case.” I looked toward my friend. “Do you have paper?”

  “No. Not even the reusable kind. I left everything I usually carry behind when we left to break into the lab.”

  “Damn. I don’t have any either.”

  “Why do you need paper?” Lila asked.

  “Because we aren’t thieves, despite your opinions about us,” Dolpheus said.

  “We want to leave a note for the owners, so that they know we intend to return the horses, with compensation for their use,” I said.

  “Oh. Well then, I have paper. And a pencil. A good scientist is never without them.” Suddenly, she was perky, the one thing she hadn’t been yet, as she reached for an inside pocket of her lab coveralls. “Here.”

  “Thank you,” I said and received a small notebook and pencil.

  “You can just tear out a page.”

  “Great,” I said. She peered over my shoulder as I wrote. I was certain she couldn’t see a single word as I could barely see to write. The light of the Plune Moon was a deep and dark purple. I wrote anyway, making a point to write neatly to compensate for my nearly blind writing. I tore out the page and handed the writing implements back to her. “Thank you.”