Ragamuffin

by Tobias S. Buckell

  The sedan slithered its way along the track again.

  “My son,” John snapped.

  “Will join us in the viewing, yes. You are very protective of your offspring. We go to join him.” The Teotl wiggled a tentacle. “Come.”

  John unfolded his hands and followed the alien. Pepper leisurely strolled behind them both.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Ahexotl had flown from Tenochtitlanome by one of the alien airships, and now his entire personal guard marched up the steps into the Minsterial Mansion. Xippilli watched them flow past his own warriors into the building.

  He moved from the balcony, sat down at his desk, and waited.

  Ahexotl walked in, his gold-threaded cape flowing behind him. He stood before the desk. The door shut behind him, and it was just the two of them.

  Xippilli stared up at him.

  “The gods are now leaving this world. They want another two hundred warriors to load into their machines, and then they leave.”

  Xippilli frowned. “We’re no longer looking for the councilmen?” He had hunted down a handful of them for the Teotl, immortals like John and Pepper who founded Nanagada all those years ago.

  “No, the Teotl are happy with the two we found them. They seem to be on a fast schedule.” Ahexotl grinned. “Your work is done.”

  “I’m to step down?”

  “Yes. The lenience disturbs the pipiltin back in Tenochtitlanome. And, Xippilli, I think it would be best for you to keep to the shadows for now. Your feelings are well-known, and your usefulness for finding immortals isn’t needed.”

  “And you will take control of the city?” Xippilli said.

  “Warriors are flowing over Mafolie Pass and into Brungstun, and from there they’ll move along the coast towards this city. We are taking the whole land again. I am the new pipiltin of Nanagada.”

  Ahexotl’s dreams of business had grown into desire for an empire. Xippilli wondered if the pipiltin back in Tenochtitlanome realized just how dangerous Ahexotl could be.

  “What is to become of me?” Xippilli asked.

  “A small, but well-paid, position as a clerk. You will be well looked after, my friend, despite your peculiar beliefs and love of this city.” Ahexotl walked toward the window. “And as one land, trade will be ever so profitable. And don’t worry, Xippilli, the blood will be spilled to our gods carefully. I am no more interested in giving the priests the power they once had than you are.”

  Xippilli looked at the new ruler of Nanagada and thought about his own future as a clerk, hiding and in fear of his life. He would see friends give their lives, no doubt, as sacrifices.

  And then Xippilli listened to the sound of the warriors lining up to board the Teotl airship. The last one up.

  He looked over at the pistol. Killing Ahexotl would bring another just like him and end Xippilli’s life that much sooner. There was no way he could outfight Ahexotl either, not by sword or by hand.

  Xippilli looked out across the town and thought about the pens of Nanagadans awaiting their fate.

  “Ahexotl, I have a better idea,” Xippilli said.

  Ahexotl turned. “Yes?”

  “Send me up to lead the warriors. Get rid of me and any trouble I might bring right now.”

  He’d caught Ahexotl off guard. “You really want to join them, in the sky?”

  “Yes.” Xippilli stepped forward and looked at the alien airship on the bright green grass lawn. “If I’m of no use down here, maybe I can make something of myself up there, with the gods.”

  He refused to look over. Let Ahexotl calculate for himself how convenient it would be to get rid of Xippilli, a well-known and loved leader here.

  And up there maybe Xippilli could be of more help.

  Ahexotl sat down in Xippilli’s chair. “Okay. Go, go to the stars.”

  Ahexotl spun the chair around, pleased with himself. Xippilli turned to leave the room, trying to get out before Ahexotl changed his mind.

  “Xippilli,” Ahexotl said.

  “Yes.” Xippilli paused at the door.

  “Up there, you won’t be able to save your friends, or them you. The gods rule there, even if they aren’t really gods.”

  “I know,” Xippilli said, and walked out before Ahexotl could call him back.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Two massive Teotl warriors flanked Jerome. They refused to speak to him. They looked straight ahead with silvered eyecaps glinting from the phosphorescent gleam in the walls.

  He considered struggling. They were taking him into warrens, down tunnels, through what felt like miles of gloom. Jerome tried to keep track of the constant turns, but realized he couldn’t.

  They could kill him here in the gloom, easily enough. But that didn’t make sense, he reassured himself. They could just as easily have done that in the room once his dad left.

  A bright spot of light grew until it filled the corridor Jerome walked down. It bathed him in luminescence as a large gob of black fluid oozed down from the ceiling. Tendrils moved out to caress and sniff him. They withdrew as a large plug of rock rolled aside. The Teotl left.

  John stood on the other side with his back to Jerome. What looked like a massive curtain of clear goo hung in the center of the rounded room. The wounded Teotl, Metztli, sat in its mobile chair next to John. It was still dirty, its dangerous necklace resting around its neck.

  “Dad?”

  John turned around. Metztli turned to look at Jerome as well. The chair with the large muscular leg underneath squirmed away from John, Metztli’s tentacles dangling over the edge. “Are you okay, Jerome?”

  “Yeah.” Jerome walked forward, and the plug of rock shuddered back into place and sighed shut. “You?”

  “They reopened the wormhole.” John gestured at the translucent film hanging in the air.

  Jerome stepped up to it and found himself looking into a vast abyss. He stepped back, heart pounding, and looked at the giant slimy curtain again.

  “It’s just an organic projection device,” John said. “Come on, step forward again.” He grabbed Jerome’s elbow.

  “Worm’s holes,” Jerome muttered. “Like the story about how we all got to Nanagada.” He looked out into the black again. A faint glint at the center caught his attention.

  “Waste energy,” John said. “They’re threading exotic matter back into the pinprick aperture of the original hole. It’s like finding a small hole in a wall. They’re putting a piece of material through that’s strong, and then spinning it, so fast, so that it expands, forcing the hole open.”

  Jerome looked at his dad and frowned. “And the hole leads to a place far away. To another star.”

  John smiled. “Yes.”

  “So how come they doing this one so quick?” It had taken hundreds of years for the other wormhole to open, as he’d understood it.

  Metztli shuffled forward. “This takes enormous energies, and our home is set to provide those, but we are almost bankrupt from the effort. The other wormhole was even more damaged, tiny, and it had a throttling device installed on it that tried to rebuff our efforts. A present from our cousins, your Loa, who helped you to initially close it.”

  “And this wormhole is not throttled, just destabilized and its throat unsupported,” John said.

  “Correct.”

  “Amazing,” John breathed. “We knew how to close them, but never knew how to reopen them.” Humans had never had the resources to even try to make exotic matter on the scale needed, let alone use it for construction like this.

  “But it means our killers will be coming after us soon. Despite our closing the wormhole behind us.” Metztli spread its metal-tipped tentacles. Jerome noticed that they were tiny gold caps. He’d thought they served as protection when on the ground, but maybe they were a fashion accessory. “Time is of essence. We need a treaty as soon as we can and the help of your species.”

  “I understand.” John looked over at Jerome, who looked down at the ground.

  Something
stirred in the ceiling. Jerome stepped backward and looked up, realizing that what he’d thought were fluted decorative arches fitted into the rock above their heads were actually legs.

  The spiderlike creature above him lowered a globular head and hissed.

  Jerome turned to the Teotl. “Do you fear us?”

  The Teotl reached a golden tip up and scratched at Pepper’s explosive collar. “I anticipate troubles,” it hissed. “But I am not worried about my own life, just the perpetuation of my own species now.”

  That was interesting. These gods were worried about them, and yet dependent. Jerome liked that. “Just a few of us here, we ain’t no threat.”

  “Your actions may affect our lives,” Metztli said. “If we cannot keep the other wormhole closed, we will be exterminated.”

  Jerome shook his head. At the start of this he would have given anything to have a Teotl talk about its impending doom, and for Jerome to help destroy it. Or all of them.

  He didn’t feel as if he could now. How strange.

  The massive stone door blocking them into the nerve center of the Teotl spaceship rolled aside. Xippilli walked in. Five Azteca warriors followed him.

  Jerome stared at him, numb and angry. The man who had betrayed them all walked casually in, as if nothing were wrong.

  “John, I need to talk to you.” Xippilli walked quickly toward them.

  “Jerome looked around. He had no knife, he had nothing. And the murdering clot stood within his reach.

  A steady rumble wormed up through Jerome’s feet.

  “We’re moving,” John said. “You were going to repair our ship.” John walked forward. The Azteca raised their rifles and John stepped back.

  Metztli cleared its throat. “The wormhole is ready now. We did not intend to open it and then return to orbit, we must achieve our goals first. We must be secure.”

  Jerome took a small step toward Xippilli, who watched John and Pepper, his hands near a pistol by his belt. The thundering increased, and Jerome could feel himself having to lean against it. He noticed Pepper standing behind them all, blending into shadows in a niche of the wall.

  Was there a better time for revenge? It didn’t come easily or announce itself. One had to grab it. Grab it before standing still and just hating burned him up from the inside.

  Jerome threw a shoulder into Xippilli and knocked him to the smooth floor. “Murderer,” he hissed.

  “Jerome!” John shouted.

  Xippilli fought back, but Jerome got his hands on the pistol. He jammed it up against Xippilli’s ribs.

  “I only tried to help.” Their noses almost touched.

  “Tell that to them that dead.” Jerome pulled the trigger and watched Xipilli jerk as the pistol cracked. “Pepper would do the same. He was there, he saw what happened.”

  He could hear the snap of Pepper’s coat, and as Jerome pulled his bloodied hands free with the pistol still clenched in them, he looked up to see one of the Azteca warriors slump to the ground as Pepper whipped toward Jerome.

  Pepper grabbed him by the neck and yanked him up into the air. “What the hell are you thinking?”

  Jerome choked, vision graying.

  “Pepper! Drop him right now.” John stepped forward with both hands tightened into fists.

  Pepper threw Jerome against the wall. Jerome scrabbled to his feet, vision swimming in tears, and grabbed his bruised neck, taking deep breaths.

  “He’s endangering it all.” Pepper turned his back to Jerome. “We should have left him on the ground.”

  Jerome fell back to the ground, dizzy.

  “I’m on it.” John dropped to his knees by Xippilli. “But you know what Xippilli did. He ran a big risk.”

  Pepper radiated barely contained fury. “He worked from the inside doing what he could. The boy’s too full of misdirected anger.”

  “You’re talking about misdirected rage?” John had stripped off Xippilli’s shirt.

  “He was running interference for us, taking on the evil to redirect.” Just like that Pepper looked about, calm again. Metztli had backed away from all of them, its chair tilting.

  “He’s losing blood, gut shot,” John said. He looked back at Jerome. Instead of fury, only a deep sadness masked his face.

  Jerome swallowed and looked away. It felt as if cold water had trickled down his back.

  “Get over there.” Pepper turned around and grabbed him hard by the shoulder. He pushed him forward. “Get over there and help your father.”

  Pepper spun on Metztli. “You stay calm, this is a human matter.” Metztli’s strange chair had moved him away from their circle. Jerome crawled past an Azteca warrior who lay with his head cocked at an odd angle. Pepper had broken his neck to stop him from killing Jerome.

  Blood pooled in the floor around Xippilli, and the man hiccuped blood from his mouth, but couldn’t speak. Jerome wanted to throw up. Instead John ripped his shirt from him with his free hand. “Bundle that up, hold it here.”

  John avoided looking at him. Jerome looked down at wet strips of cloth, then John grabbed his hands and pushed them onto Xippilli’s stomach. “Keep the pressure.”

  Jerome’s handiwork. Revenge. This is what it felt like. Wet and sticky, sickening. And a man lay in front of him slowly dying.

  “You must wrap this up quickly,” Metztli said.

  “Shut the fuck up,” John snapped. “Pepper, there are hundreds of Azteca on this ship and we just shot their leader.”

  Pepper looked over at the entryway to the control room. “Open the door, Metztli, and you will die.”

  “The door will remain closed,” Metztli said.

  A strange feeling flitted through Jerome as he watched. As if he were being turned inside out and then back again.

  “Transit,” John said to Pepper, as if were the most automatic and normal thing.

  “I felt it.” Pepper folded his arms.

  “Please,” Metztli said.

  “The man on the floor is of no consequence. We need your assistance.”

  “Why the hell are you still talking?” John snapped. “Unless you have a first-aid kit lying around, you’re going to need to give us some time.”

  “There are no first-aid kits,” Metztli said.

  The entire room shivered, distant explosions getting everyone’s attention. A keening sound from the walls threatened to deafen them.

  “And that was?” Pepper looked around.

  Metztli waved a tentacle. “There are a lot of vehicles out on the other side of this wormhole, human we assume. Someone fired a missile in front of us. We’re broadcasting that we’re no threat, humans are telling us to come in slowly and identify ourselves. We need your services, as I’ve been saying. We need them now.”

  “Who’s out there?” John asked, looking up.

  “We do not know,” the Teotl said. “But there are ships, everywhere. Some of them match the ship names of ships that once defended your planet several centuries past, so we assume them to be hostile. Do you think they will fire on us next?”

  “I don’t know. Do you have any weapons?” Pepper asked. Blood seeped out over Jerome’s fingers. He couldn’t look down. But he could feel Xippilli’s slow, ragged breathing under his hands.

  The Teotl looked at them all. “No. The nest has no real weapons to speak of. We’re slowing down as we have been asked.” It leaned forward.

  Pepper walked over to a length of screen goop. “Show me who’s knocking and maybe we can start talking.”

  “Do you think the Ragamuffins are still waiting out there?” John asked Pepper.

  Pepper shrugged. “Why not? We were still on Nanagada, weren’t we?”

  The rock under Jerome’s knees shivered again, and Xippilli coughed up more blood and moaned.

  PART THREE

  HUMAN AFFAIRS

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  This was Ragamuffin home territory: a dim brown dwarf that gave off no life-giving light, a rocky world that the upstream and downstream wormho
le orbited, and lots of random dirt and rock for ships to hide in past that.

  A desolate area.

  Etsudo had caught up to the Shengfen Hao and three more heavy ships as they moved through toward the Ragamuffins.

  He’d scattered drones hundreds of miles out in all directions when he’d transited in. Enough scattered drones could put together a detailed image of whatever he wanted. Any one of them wouldn’t have the ability to see the details he wanted, but the whole network could process the light hitting their optics to make a superarray.

  The four Hongguo ships chased two smaller Ragamuffin ships, but had stared dumping speed as they’d come through the wormhole. The two wormholes orbited the rocky world in geosynchronous orbit, and now so did Etsudo and the Hongguo. A massive cloud of chaff and mines hung around the wormhole they’d just come through, enclosing it in a massive protective sphere.

  The Ragamuffins were well defended against an attack, and Deng had barely stopped the Shengfen Hao from plowing into the mess.

  Hongguo drones spread out from all the trapped ships, seeking to gain data about the situation.

  Deng hailed him. “What are you doing here? We are not expecting you.”

  “I wish nothing more than to assist.” Deng would have trouble believing it. But what could he do about it for right now? Etsudo would get away with it for a while, Deng would hardly have the time to care all that much or shoot him out of the sky unless he posed a threat.

  “You have drones out?” Deng asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Check the downstream wormhole, we don’t have drones to spare. We’re getting radiation readings from it. As if it were open.”

  Etsudo started turning his drones that way, opening up other tools to probe at the wormhole trailing almost a thousand miles behind them in orbit.

  He waited as the scattered drones stitched together their impressions, losing a few to mines in brief, fiery explosions.

  “Deng? There is something you should see.” Etsudo passed along the images as they came. A very large cylinder of rock, like a scaled-down habitat, slowly moved away from the downstream wormhole. “The downstream wormhole is not only reopened, something really big came through from New Anegada.”