They retreated, following orders, along a vector to allow them visual inspection of the edge of the battle, where they could relay data to the fighter squadron. They knew, instantly, the job was busy work to keep them out of danger but was also necessary. They would each help, as best they could, and ready themselves for whatever might come.
Chapter 28 - Jonah
I CAME TO IN A CELL - hardly the first time that’s happened. Each and every time, I still feel it’s better than being dead. So that was a point in my favor. Alive I could escape, fight, change the outcome. I was exactly where I wanted to be.
They’d left my thinsuit on me, but emptied all my pockets and taken my GravPack and gun. Fair enough as far as it went. The cell itself was an odd brown, not the normal flat grays of the metals humans tend to use. The walls felt like a metal, though, and hummed with the ever-present motion of the engines.
I’d come to on a cot, one far longer than a normal human would use. These guys must range tall. The bars along the front of the cell (bars seemed to be a universal truth of jails) were spaced slimmer than most. So tall and thin, check. I could at least use my time here to learn about them.
The room beyond my cell turned colors as it went. Starting with the browns of my cell interior, the floor and walls faded to brighter colors as the room went on. Everything was fresh and lush, visually. These weren’t a people who wanted to live in a drab ship. Like the exterior of their fighters, they’d gone for something festive. No, that didn’t feel like the right answer. It clicked when the guards came into view.
Tall and thin, as the cell suggested, they wore helmets with long beaks and a line of feathers along the crest. Bird people. The walls weren’t festive - they were a form of plumage. For someone of their species, the color patterns must signal something primal, a power and purpose.
Their boots were shaped to conform to the feet of a bird, with three clawed toes forward and one back for grabbing and rending. I couldn’t tell what the boots were made of, but it appeared to be something sturdy, as did the rest of their outfits: brightly colored pants and jackets, with what looked like protective sheathing over small underarm wings, connecting the arm below the elbow to the upper chest.
Bird people. I’d never even heard of bird people, not really. You hear stories, in the service, but there was no extant race of them around. Except, it would seem, these guys.
“Hey,” I called out, hoping they had translators of some sort. If you’re going to attack countless planets, it helped to be able to understand when they yelled out for backup.
One of the two guards that stood at the other side of the room looked over. The eye pieces of his helmet glowed red. The beak was fixed, closed, and came to a deadly sharp point on the downturn.
He studied me for a few and then turned back to his friend and they talked, softly. Too soft for me to hear. I tried again, “Listen, guys, take me to your leader?” Nothing. Or so I thought at first. One of the guards left and the other turned and kept me in his sight line.
So I stood still, facing him, arms at my side, refusing to be threatening. I wanted out. If it took playing nice to get them to let me out, that’d be far easier than breaking out, and worth a shot.
The first guard, or at least, I think it was him - hard to tell with the head-to-toe getup - came back. He conferred with the second and then they both came over to me. I took a respectful, slow step back from the bars and waited.
The second guard started to fiddle with a part of my cell door, and, as they unlocked it, I realized I had a good chance here. They didn’t know who I was or what I could do. But they’d know humans, some. That’s why they’d been picking people up - for study, to see what we were and how best to deal with us - on every planet they’d attacked.
Which meant they knew my age, from the sight of me, or at least that I was older than many. I decided to play up my bad knee for them. I limped as I walked forward, following their gesture. Not a bad limp, but enough to make them think I wasn’t too steady on my feet. I wanted a look under one of those helmets: I wanted to look one of them in the eye before this went further.
Call it stupid, but I feel I can gain a lot from looking into the eyes of an enemy, and that’s what these guys were - my enemy. They’d taken Shae, killed whole planets, and cost a lot of good soldiers their lives. I’d play the beaten and supple prisoner for them for a little while, but I never intended to forget exactly what they’d done.
We started down a long hallway, one guard in front and one behind me. They didn’t prod me when I kept the limp up, allowing me to go at a speed that worked for my leg. Perfect, they’d bought it. Now for the second, harder part. The floor was smooth and even, but with my supposed limp to help, I stumbled and flailed. The guard behind me caught me and helped me upright again, not hurting me or even threatening to.
We turned a corner and I stumbled again, further this time, flailing like a mad man until I caught the guard in front in his back. He stumbled with me and I wrapped an arm around his helmet, hooking my elbow under the beak, careful to not slice myself open, and let my weight torque us over, ripping the mask free.
I expected to see a bird face glaring at me, as we laid on the floor for the three seconds before the second guard helped me back up, less gentle this time. Instead I saw green and brown scales, slit eyes, and flat nostrils. These weren’t birds, they were lizards. I tried to not let my surprise show, to not give anything away, but that took shutting my now-slack jaw.
When we started to move again, the rear guard kept a clawed hand on my shoulder. Fine, I’d learned something and that’d do for now. I walked, easing off the fake limp but not dropping it completely - why throw away a good advantage?
We came to a large set of doors with guards posted outside. The door guards conferred with their compatriots and opened the set of doors slowly. Inside was a large hall. A meeting space, or possibly a recreation hall. Either way, the decoration spoke volumes about them. Birdlike designs dominated, but the figures depicted were lizard-like as often as not. Idealized murals of their ships and their pilots ran the length of the space.
At the opposite end of the room was a being draped in a winged and feathered cloak, his scaled, shortened head seeming drab and small above it. My request to see their leader had come through. I thought back, and was pretty sure that line had never worked before. Probably wouldn’t again, either. But you take opportunity when it lands on your porch, and this was that.
They walked me close to the throne the leader sat in, pushing me down to my knees a good ten feet away from him. The claws on my shoulder stayed there. Even knelt, they wouldn’t take any chances at this stage. I didn’t blame them.
“Who,” he began in thick halting English, his voice croaking out each word, “are—”
“Where. Is. My. Wife?” I spat out each word as its own curse. My chin up, eyes locked with his. I didn’t care one whit about their plans. What they wanted with me didn’t matter. But they’d give up Shae, if nothing else.
“What is this wife you inquire about?” he asked me, brow furrowing in what seemed to be confusion. No reason to trust him, though.
“Nice. Where is she? Tell me now, let her go, and I won’t have to send this entire ship down in flames.” I admit, this was as far as my plan took me. Get on board. Find out about Shae. Get out.
Certain people might argue with my tactics, thinking that starting right off into threats wouldn’t help my cause. But they’re only threats if you can’t carry though. When it came to Shae, I’d burn the galaxy down. Details of how didn’t factor in. I would. Simple as that.
“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he insisted.
I sighed in frustration, “Yes, we all look the same. While you were scouting Earth. Earth? Remember it?”
“No. We do not know of this planet.”
“Do you know Trasker Four?” I asked, forcing myself to stay on my knees and not fight the guard holding me down. I could think of six ways to get up and f
ree, and only one of them would maim the guard for life. Regardless, I waited.
“Yes, the planet we are currently being forced to harvest.” The note of sadness in his voice was either a great bit of acting or I had no idea what was actually going on here. I didn’t think he could act quite that well in a language he wasn’t that familiar with.
“Wait,” I said, “who’s forcing you to level a planet? Another planet, mind you. This isn’t the first, and eventually your path will take you to Earth. And it needs to stop.”
“And yet it cannot,” he said, “must not, in fact, for our own survival. Regrettable but necessary.”
“You would kill whole planets of people for your own survival? Not even try to find a different way?”
“There has never been another way. Would you not do what is needed to survive? So that your people could? Didn’t you come in here, threatening me, despite knowing I could simply have you killed, to save this one you call wife?”
“Stop talking in questions. Just explain to me why you’re doing what you’re doing.”
“First,” he said, raising a finger to make the point, “you must explain to me who you are and why you tried to sneak aboard our vessel in such a manner.”
I tried to stand and the hand on my shoulder pushed back against me. So I grabbed his thumb and wrenched it back, feeling it dislocate. His shock left him unprepared for my kick to his ankle. He went down, I came up.
I stood, unmoving, while the guards in the room circled me. No attack from me, I just needed to prove a point. I brought my hands up in front of me, palms toward the leader, to show I was unarmed and uninterested in fighting. He gave me a look, one of understanding, it seemed, exactly the point I’d made.
“My name is Jonah, and you are attacking my people,” I said, not even looking at the guards around me, focusing my attention solely on their leader. “And I am a member of the forces trying to stop the slaughter. I wanted information and I had a feeling someone on this ship - you, I think now - could provide it. Also, you have my wife.” I bared my teeth in a cruel grin. “And this is the last time I intend to ask nicely for her back, unharmed.”
“Stand down,” he commanded the guards, I could guess from their reaction, in his own language. “Not many of us know your language at all,” he told me, “apologies. My name is Tslakog. Once again, we do not have this wife you request. We have no prisoners, nor have we been to this Earth you speak of. I do, however, understand your actions. We would do no less. However, I also feel that if you knew of our problem, you would not judge us as harshly as you currently do.”
I laughed. Right in his face. His guards bristled but didn’t make a move toward me. “So you want me to believe you don’t have Shae, and you want me to listen to your supposed tale of genocidal woe?”
“I will be happy to allow you, escorted of course, to explore every inch of this ship looking for the one you seek,” he said.
“Which wouldn’t prove anything.”
“Then what would?” he asked me. It was a good question. What would prove it? I could search the ship but they could move her. Hell, they could have her in a different ship anyway. Or have just spaced her.
“Let me explain our predicament, then,” Tslakog continued, “and afterward we can continue the discussion of these whereabouts.”
“Giving you time to—”
“Yes, yes,” he said, his voice growing an edge, “we can go in circles on this all day. I know of no way to convince you, and by your silence, you cannot think of one either. So these, then, are your choices. You can try to take this ship by force, alone and weaponless. I gather you would get fairly far, but we both know you would die here without ever finding this person you seek—”
“My wife.”
“Just so. Or you can choose to trust me, just enough to listen and resume this core concern after understanding has been achieved.”
“Go on, then.”
“Let us walk,” he said, standing.
“You trust me to not make a break for it and cripple the ship along the way?”
“No, I trust my guards to kill you should you try.”
I was starting to like this guy.
Chapter 29 - Jonah
MY PEOPLE ARE CALLED TYFARSIANS,” Tslakog said as we began our walk. “We are, truthfully, quite peaceful.”
I raised an eyebrow at that, but let it pass for now. Three guards walked alongside us, and I’d spotted at least five behind us. They moved quietly, too, damn it.
“We have existed far longer than your own species,” he continued, “keeping to ourselves. Our planet is far beyond your own settlements, which is why you have yet to discover us, I assume. There are many planets, races teeming across galaxies that your own people have never reached.”
“Well sure,” I said, “who has time to see the entire universe? But give it time and I suppose we’ll get there, assuming we stop you from wiping us off the face of creation, right?”
“The Tyfarsian have no desire to rid the universe of you. It is a regrettable fact of our own existence that we have crossed paths in this way at all. We could have been allies.”
“So those other races, the ones you know about and we don’t. Did you slaughter any that you called ally, in your regrettable fashion?”
“Yes,” he said, bowing his head in shame or honor or both. “We warned them of our need to progress and they shrugged and assumed they would be spared because of friendship. We did warn them. Tragedy, in truth.”
“I’ll say. More so for them, though, huh?” We turned a corner and took a flight of wide, softly sloping stairs. Made for their bigger feet, the rise and run were spaced so that walking up them was almost no different than a shallow hill.
“No.” Tslakog said firmly, turning to face me there on the stairs. “We have to live with what we have done to those we considered our friends. That is not the sort of stain that eases from one’s soul. Ever.”
“Then why do it?” I demanded.
“This,” he waved a hand and started to walk again, “this is what I am trying to explain. Our race did not start at the planet we recently left.”
“Wait, you left? All of you?” I wondered how many this ship could possibly hold. Either their race was tiny or there were far more ships out there than we had a clue about. Not good.
“All of us, yes. But we shall get to that in time. I was telling you about where we came from. And in all honesty, I may be mistaken. There are, you see, two planets. The one we left and the one we head to. We have lived on both for so long that we, as a race, are no longer sure which planet gave us life originally. That does not matter.
“What matters is that long ago we were discovering space travel. Starting to go further than our own atmosphere and explore the stars. Evolution had allowed us to rise as the dominant life form of our planet, and we used that time well. Too well, in fact, for while we excelled at technology, we fared far worse at ecology. Our planet was dying. We had no choice but to speed up our exploration and leave in search of a replacement.”
I looked at him as we walked. Comfortable in his role as leader, tall and proud. I kept my own counsel, thinking about what he was telling me. We turned again and entered a large space filled with what seemed to be a tiny city. The ceilings ran stories high and buildings lined the sides, breaking into streets. From the windows came lights and sounds and along the ground his people walked and lived. He wanted to show me his society.
“We searched from out beyond your knowing, through your own spaces and back out again until we found the second planet. The first journey proved almost impossibly hard. Many lives were lost. History tells us that the Tsyfarsians almost did not make it. However, of course, we did arrive in numbers enough to support future generations. We found our second world. Settling there, we tried to be more diligent in our treatment of the land, but even then, after many generations, thousands of years, we found ourselves in need of moving. Our scientists conferred and we set out once more. Unerringly
we found ourselves drawn to retrace our steps, directly back to the world we had left.
“And so we returned. The land, in our absence, had restored itself and we were able to live there once more. But, in the fullness of time—”
“You had to leave again, didn’t you?”
“Yes, you understand.”
“How many times have your people completed this journey?” How long had they been around? They were already, based on the time needed for his stories to be true, one of the oldest races we’d heard about in the universe. If they hadn’t encountered us the last time, that meant that the periods between their moves was thousands of years, never mind the actual travel time.
“We are unsure. That is why I cannot tell you which planet is the original home of the Tyfarsians.”
We walked among his people, and they greeted their leader warmly, keeping their distance from me. The alien. The invader to their home. Wasn’t the first time I’d been treated like that. Understandable, really.
“And so now we are on our journey. It is necessary for our survival,” he said, turning to leave.
“And necessary to wipe out countless billions along the way?”
“We do not have the capacity to build enough ships to transport all of our people awake while on a journey this long. Nor could we possibly feed them. Much of our race lay in our ships in a torpor, fed minimal amounts needed for persistence, but even then we must cultivate that sustenance for them. For that we must raze what is in our path to collect enough to ensure our own survival. It is deeply regrettable, but what must be done.”
“And you’ve tried different paths?” I asked.
“No, our path must remain true. We are drawn to it, it is the only way.”
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