Not of This World

by Tracy St. John

  Arga gripped his shoulder and squeezed affectionately. “We are. But Retav was my guardian. In my mind, he always will be. I must go after him no matter the cost to myself physically, because the cost to my soul is too high.”

  Kren had lost. One way or the other, Arga would go into the hive, and barring a miracle, he wouldn’t come out.

  * * *

  The discussion had gone poorly. Jeannie was fielding Nex’s endless queries about what it was to be an Earthling, but she noted Kren’s heavy tread as he headed toward them. Whatever her lover and Arga had been discussing, it had made him morose. Yet Arga looked almost as serene as a Risnarish woman. What was going on with those two?

  Her questions were forced to wait as Kren glanced around. “Where is Pon? He’s supposed to be keeping an eye on things.”

  “Maybe he got called out for something.” Bort went to a podium, the surface of which Jeannie now understood to be a computer station. “I’ll check.”

  He’d no sooner finished speaking when loud whooping sounds shattered the air. Jeannie covered her ears as the men turned as one to the curved wall on her right. She twisted that way too as a huge screen activated, showing the woods bordering the east side of the village border.

  The alarm shut off, and a man spoke in a low but excited voice.

  “This is Pon in the southeast quadrant. I have sighted Monsudan drones on the fringe of the barrier.”

  “System, wide view,” Kren ordered. His skin rippled, letting Jeannie know he had armored.

  Like a wide-angle lens, the projection zoomed out, showing more of the border. Pon’s beige, white, and mahogany-striped form was visible at one corner of the view. He crouched behind a pile of firewood near a dome, his attention aimed at a group of six drones that were standing at the barrier and blasting at it with scattershot. Where the lethal pellets hit the otherwise invisible barricade, blue-white bursts bloomed like tiny fireworks. Jeannie would have thought it pretty had she not understood the threat.

  The officers also armored as the men made their way to the armament case. Nex handed out what resembled arm-length flashlights.

  Arga spoke as he took one of the objects that Jeannie was sure was not a flashlight but some kind of weapon. “How many, Pon? Just the six at the barrier?”

  “That’s all I’ve seen,” Pon’s low voice confirmed. “All they’ve done is hit it with scattershot.”

  “They know that’s no good against our walls,” Arga snarled to Kren. “What can they be up to?”

  “Let’s ask them when we catch one,” Kren said. “Pon, remain out of sight. Do not engage them alone. We’re on our way.”

  He paused long enough to tell Jeannie, “Stay here. Don’t step foot outside until we return.”

  As the group charged out, Jeannie called after them, “Be careful.”

  She wasn’t sure any of the men heard her. In an instant they were gone, the door clicking shut behind them and leaving her alone.

  She paced as she waited and worried. The projection had blinked off as soon as all the officers had left, so she had no way of knowing what happened by the barrier. In a way, it was a blessing. At least that was what she tried to convince herself of. The drones with their black, soulless eyes and inscrutable faces made her blood run cold.

  Alone with her thoughts, it wasn’t just the Monsuda’s attempts to find her that had her fretting with anxiety. The Assembly would be making a decision about her soon. Her life depended on how well she’d convinced them that she was a naturally occurring creature, created by their All-Spirit and not the Monsuda. Had she persuaded them? Had the assurances of the villagers carried any weight? Or had the prejudices of men like Fetla been the view of the Assembly?

  She could run from Hahz. It would be madness to stick around when she could be ordered executed at any moment. However, Kren had sworn he would not allow that to happen. Despite life showing her again and again that others were not to be trusted, she felt sure Kren meant to protect her. But could he? He would try, she was certain. Her new friends would object to any decision the Assembly made against her. But had she won the villagers over enough that they would overrule their exalted elders?

  “Mekay is on my side,” she tried to console herself. “More people seem to agree with him than Fetla.”

  The women were impossible to read. Yees offered nothing one way or the other. While Notlin had acted a little warmer, she too had given no indication how she judged Jeannie.

  “If I’m going to break for it, I need to do it now, before they make their decision,” Jeannie muttered. This was the time to escape.

  The Monsudan drones were out there. Even though they could no longer track Jeannie, they were outside Hahz all the time now, looking for a way to get in. How far from the village would she have to run to be safe from the hive that had taken her?

  Worse still, where would she run to? Jeannie had starved during the days she’d traveled from the hive to Hahz. Winter was on its way, and the nights were growing colder. The jacket she’d sewn would be no match for the freezes Kren had told her would happen.

  “Option one: Run. Possibly starve. Probably freeze.

  “Option two: Stay and hope for the best. Trust Kren if the Assembly’s decision goes against me. Not only wait around to see if I’m to live or die, but also put him in danger for defying Risnar’s leadership.”

  There was a third option too. “If the Assembly goes against me, surrender and be executed. That way Kren isn’t in trouble.” Jeannie had no idea what would be in store for Kren if he did fight against the Assembly, but it couldn’t be good. Treason in any society was a serious crime.

  The trouble with the third option—besides her own death—was that Jeannie did trust Kren to fight for her. She did not believe he’d stand by and let her be killed.

  She should go. It was the only way to keep Kren safe. Yet the thought of leaving behind the one man she’d learned to believe in made her heart hurt.

  Jeannie went to the door. It opened for her, letting in the not-yet-quite-cold air. She shivered. It was now or never.

  The questions kept coming. Run or stay? The fight for survival out there or here within Hahz? The man who meant so much to her or the past that told her she was a fool for trusting him?

  * * *

  Kren and the rest of his men left their dartwings half a mile from Pon’s position, near one of the parks where the nightly campfires were held. They crossed the barrier and went into the woods. From there, they began to make their way to where the drones fired on the barrier. They moved silently, sneaking up on their enemies.

  It was a mystery why the Monsudan drones would fire scattershot on the barrier, which was impervious to such efforts. Kren was determined to solve that mystery however, along with finding out a good many other things. Like how they’d removed Jeannie from her home planet. And how many others they’d victimized with their sick experimentation. Most important of all, he meant to discover why they were doing it.

  It made him feel sick to think of potential centuries of predations on the Earthlings. If Sisneg Man had been among the Monsuda’s first victims, then they’d been attacking Earth for millennia. Something had to be done to stop it. The Risnarish knew how to take precautions against their enemy, losing only a few people to the Monsuda each year. Somehow, most of the Earthlings were blind to the threat. According to Jeannie, the majority didn’t believe anyone was being taken. The awful harvest of hundreds, perhaps even thousands, would continue if the Monsuda weren’t stopped.

  If—no, when—the Assembly judged Jeannie to be of the Spirit—they would have to take action against the Monsuda. Did the temple elders not command that all must come to the aid of those created by the All-Spirit who needed it? It was true that individuals taken by the Monsuda, like Arga’s guardian Retav, could not be retrieved without threatening much greater numbers of Risnarish. The calculations
were harsh, but the greater good had to be taken into consideration.

  However, Jeannie said her people numbered in the billions, a far larger number than Risnarish. Kren was no temple elder. He would have hardly considered himself spiritual except for casual belief. Yet he could not imagine leaving so many potential victims to their fate.

  His group neared the barrier again. The barrage of scattershot firing, a constant ta-ta-ta-ta-ta, punctuated by the high-pitched zing of the barrier being hit, told them the drones continued their assault. The noise covered the officers’ passage over crackling twigs, leaves, and seedpods. Kren turned to his men and raised four digits on his right hand. He pointed to Arga and made a circular motion. His partner nodded and set his weapon for incapacitation. He jerked his head, and everyone went into motion, fanning out in a semicircle. They closed on the drones, which came in view beyond a small stand of trees.

  Just before they got close enough to trip the drones’ sensors, Kren signaled for the attack. His squad rushed forward and opened fire on all but the drone on the far left, the one Arga went for. As Kren shot destructive plasma streams at the others, he managed to glance at his partner.

  Arga’s aim was true, and he hit his target three times before the stricken drone crumpled to the ground. The rest were decimated in the volley of hits within seconds. As soon as the entire bunch lay unmoving, mostly in pieces, Kren’s squad melted into the forest. They waited for a minute to make sure there wasn’t a counterattack on its way.

  There should have been. The takedown had been easy. Too easy. It was as bizarre as the constant surveillance the drones had kept on Hahz lately.

  After a couple of minutes ticked past, Kren decided nothing else was coming. He reluctantly signaled the all-clear to his men, then radioed for Pon to join them.

  The squad went to their felled enemy. They sneered at the remains of the demolished drones with distaste for the most part, their noses wrinkling at the oily smell.

  Despite the wrongness of the situation, Kren felt a surge of triumph as he looked at the disabled and intact drone. He told Arga, “Let’s get our interrogation subject to the station.”

  Arga nodded and attached an inhibitor chip on the monstrosity’s neck. Once the creation’s systems came back online, it would have use of only its head functions—including speech processors. It would be capable, though perhaps unwilling, to answer their questions.

  Arga slung the device with its spindly arms and legs over his beefy shoulder. The drone appeared like a broken doll and as helpless as one too. Kren smiled grimly. He had his prize.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Upon entering the enforcement dome, Arga tossed their prisoner into the empty middle section. “Activate cell,” he said.

  The only sign that the drone was now within an incarceration barrier came from the slight shimmer in the air around it. Kren barely noted it happening because he was busy searching for Jeannie.

  “Jeannie? Jeannie, where are you?”

  His call got the attention of the other officers. There was no sign of her. Kren’s guts churned.

  Arga put a hand on his shoulder. “Just because we were distracted capturing this hunk of garbage doesn’t mean anything. Monsuda and their drones can’t get through the barrier unless we carry them in as I did this one. They didn’t capture Jeannie.”

  The chance of such happening had only worried Kren for a bare second. His thoughts went in another direction. “Maybe she ran.”

  Arga gave him a perplexed look. “Why? She has to know we would protect her from the Monsuda.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t the Monsuda she ran from.”

  Arga’s expression turned grave. “The Assembly will not destroy her. They have to realize she is real.”

  “She doesn’t know that, not for certain. Jeannie doesn’t believe in anyone.” Including me, Kren thought ruefully. “Her track record with her own family wouldn’t lend her to being trusting.” He wondered where she might go. Outside the barrier? But surely not, what with the drones threatening. Still, if she thought she was in danger...

  “We’ll be able to track her. She can’t have gotten far.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Bort, keep an eye on things,” Kren said.

  He and Arga headed for the door. Before they’d taken more than a couple of steps, it opened. Jeannie walked in.

  Kren’s hearts flooded with joy and relief. She was safe.

  She hunched as her gaze met his. “I went out for some air. I, uh, walked a little farther than I’d intended. I heard your vehicles return and came as quick as I could. Is everything all right?”

  She talked fast, and her face flushed with pink. Kren thought perhaps she had started to run away.

  The important thing is, she came back. Was it for me? Has she found a bit of faith? He would take it, even if it was so shaky that she’d entertained a moment of uncertainty.

  She’d come back. That was all that counted.

  Not caring that Arga and the rest were there, Kren held his arms out to her. Hopeful joy lit her face with a smile. She came to him and let him hold her, leaning into his body.

  He said, “I am glad you are here. So very glad.”

  She started to say something, but her gaze happened upon where the drone had been imprisoned. Her gasp rang out. “You brought one in. Is it broken?”

  “Incapacitated. Once it recovers from the momentary shut down, it will function well enough to answer our questions.”

  “It’s making a sort of humming noise now,” Bort said, staring with undisguised hatred at the unblinking mirror-black eye sensors. “It may have come online.”

  Kren stepped toward the cell. “Are you aware, drone?”

  “I am,” it replied in Risnarish. The slot that approximated a mouth did not move, but the dead, emotionless voice emitted from it.

  Kren tugged Jeannie forward. “Do you recognize this Earthling?”

  “I do. It is the property of my makers. We will reclaim the Earth organism.”

  Kren scowled at it. “She, not it. She is not a soulless device like you.” A sudden inspiration hit, and he was glad to have so many witnesses. He said, “She is not of Monsudan origin.”

  “Irrelevant. We brought her here from her planet. She is the subject of decades-long research. She is Monsudan property.”

  There was the intake of many breaths from the watching officers. The drone had confirmed Jeannie was not a false creation. Nex caught Kren’s eye and grinned as he pointed to a blinking sensor on one of the computer consoles. He’d recorded the exchange.

  It took all of Kren’s self-control to not yell in triumph. Whether or not the drone answered any questions now was almost immaterial to him. Capturing the thing had already paid off.

  Meanwhile, Jeannie fixated on the drone’s intentions rather than the proof it gave for her origin. She stared at the mechanism, her lip curling in hatred. “You had no right to bring me to this planet. I don’t belong here,” she said in a low, angry voice.

  Kren wanted to contradict her. His soul insisted she did belong on Risnar. With him.

  Except she didn’t agree. Pain filled him as she added, “I belong on Earth.”

  The drone spoke the unthinkable. “By escaping, the specimen has violated code. It will be restored to our hive. It will be retained for intensive study and experimentation. It will never be returned to Earth.”

  Jeannie’s eyes went wide. “I have a life on Earth. I have a home. You can’t keep me!”

  “You are a lower creature and a Monsudan specimen. You will be made to submit to experimentation until you die.”

  Kren eyed the drone with fury. At that moment, with Jeannie’s lower lip trembling and her eyes filling with tears, he wanted to rip the Monsudan abomination apart.

  It had threatened her. It had fucking threatened her.

 
; The other officers had surrounded the cell and demonstrated their anger as well. Fists clenched. Lips wrinkled in snarls. Brows creased and lowered over narrowed eyes. Somehow seeing his rage reflected by his friends helped Kren find a measure of control. He drew a couple of deep breaths to calm himself.

  How should he proceed with the questioning? Drones were always destroyed on sight, but now he needed information.

  Settling on what intelligence seemed most important, he asked, “Is Jeannie’s presence in our village why you keep trying our boundaries?”

  The thing’s dead voice said, “According to your customs, the Monsudan specimen should have been destroyed upon discovery. The transmitter showed us it still lived. We wished to investigate.”

  “The first time they showed up to the barrier,” Arga mused. “But you came to where we found her, not close to where she was.”

  “Systematic investigation,” the drone replied. “We are not lower beasts. We proceed from logic.”

  “You proceed on the orders of the soulless abominations that built you,” Bort snarled.

  Kren waved him quiet. “Continue to explain your interest in the Earthling,” he ordered the drone.

  “We knew when you removed the transmitter from the organism. We came to verify that the experiment had been eradicated afterward. Yet it still lives. Why?”

  Kren’s stomachs twisted. The horror in Jeannie’s eyes made him sick. Not only had they kept tabs on her whereabouts, but they’d known she was alive and when the tracker was removed. That level of surveillance frightened him.

  Kren’s anger rose anew at the way the Monsuda had victimized Jeannie. “We do not kill sentient beings. Particularly not those who share in the Spirit.”

  The drone had no interest outside of its masters’ clinical outrages. “You have testing protocols that confirmed the Earthling is not of our making. The masters will want to know that. Release me.”

  Arga responded to the ridiculous directive. “No chance, egghead.”