“How’s it look, Admiral?” he asked, the gaping crocodilian orifice moving in sync to his own face and mouth, hidden beneath the disguise. “[Is the translator working?]” This time the words came out in Vr’amil’een, translated by the chip still in Daniel’s ear.
“Looks great, Dex,” replied the Admiral, beginning to affix the other holographic emitter to his own face. Meanwhile, Dex had begun to don one of the heavy hooded cloaks that covered every part of his body save his disguised face. The loose brown folds of the cloak made Dex look more massive as well, though he was still on the thin side for a Vr’amil’een.
By the time the Admiral had put on his own cloak and activated his holographic emitter, Dex had already hidden the equipment bags back inside the fighter. “I can’t wait to set out, Admiral,” he said, slipping his sidearm under his cloak and tossing Daniel’s to him. “Are you ready for this one, old man?”
The Admiral caught the weapon, the quick movement reminding him how his joints ached. The last thing he wanted to do was begin a long, grueling journey through unforgiving and hostile terrain right away.
“Of course,” he replied, trying to sound enthusiastic as he checked his weapon and hid it under his cloak. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 12
The wind whistled through the narrow canyon, each jutting crag and sharp outcropping of rock adding its unique timbre to the raucous symphony of air. Dex and the Admiral trudged along the broken floor of the ravine, heading toward the increasingly bright reddish glow of the city in the rapidly failing light. Protected both from the winds and, more importantly, prying eyes by the heavy, hooded cloaks they both wore, the two officers traveled toward the Vr’amil’een city at a brisk pace, a pace they hoped would allow them to arrive before the short, cold Tu’oth’roor night had ended.
The bright glow of the city ahead, combined with the light of Tu’oth’roor’s two moons, was enough to provide the barest hint of illumination, casting a somber, blood-red tint on the uneven walls of the ravine. Dex rotated the dial on his flashlight from white to red, his light beam changing to approximate the hue of the city lights. Picking up the cue, Daniel did the same, unpleasantly finding that the red color favored by Vr’amil’een eyes was not as effective at helping him avoid the innumerable pits and spikes in the rocky ground below.
As they neared the city, a bend in the valley revealed a group of dancing reddish lights moving haphazardly toward them. They appeared to be flashlights, but they swung violently in random directions, as if their owners were more interested in the optical effect than actually lighting their way. Daniel noticed that Dex had quickly shut off his own light, hiding it in the folds of his cloak and leaving his right hand concealed thereunder, undoubtedly resting on his sidearm. “Both of us using lights would have been suspicious,” he whispered, speaking softly though Daniel was sure even sensitive Vr’amil’een ears could not hear them through the howling winds at this distance. “Just walk right by them. They won’t be expecting us to be sociable.”
They were near enough now that Daniel could make out three dancing flashlight beams, representing more than enough Vr’amil’een to handle both Dex and the Admiral if their intentions were to turn hostile.
Daniel pulled his hood farther over his face, nervously running a gloved finger over the tiny holographic emitter fastened to his chin, as if to check that it had not somehow spontaneously disappeared. He glanced quickly at Dex, completely indistinguishable from a normal Vr’amil’een even at this distance. Actual Vr’amil’een, however, were nocturnal, and thus possessed acute night vision and the ability to see infrared light, meaning that the darkness of night would offer Daniel and Dex little shelter against their sensitive eyes. Daniel hoped the holographic emitters would do the job.
The loud, resonant voices of the approaching Vr’amil’een could now be heard, and it was not long before it became apparent that they were thoroughly inebriated. Though Daniel could not be sure, he would have bet they had been ingesting large quantities of Un’qui’do, a particularly potent Vr’amil’een ale that was almost lethally toxic to humans, even in small doses. The ale, which increased the body temperatures of the cold-blooded reptilians, accounted for their erratic flashlight beams and loud voices, and, unfortunately, often also served to increase the already ferocious level of Vr’amil’een aggression.
The swaggering group finally seemed to notice Dex and the Admiral as they neared to within twenty meters or so. Though Daniel now nervously counted five Vr’amil’een—two of them without flashlights—he forced himself to continue walking at his previous pace, veering slightly to his right in an attempt to simply walk past the drunken mob.
Upon noticing the officers, the voices of the Vr’amil’een quickly muted. Daniel cursed under his breath when he saw them slow and stop before him, their hulking masses blocking the majority of the narrow ravine’s width.
Finally close enough to make out some of the details of the Vr’amil’een in the reddish glow of the flashlights, Daniel studied their husky, bipedal frames, instantly noting their wide, powerful mouths that were filled with razor-sharp teeth on all four sides. He had not seen a Vr’amil’een in the flesh in many years, but he remembered that their daunting maws had, remarkably, evolved solely for combat, and that they each possessed a second, smaller mouth on their necks that was actually used for feeding. A thick, scaly armour plating covered their bodies, though it did not prevent them from moving with deceptive speed and agility. Their immense strength and the three-clawed hand at the end of each of their two stubby arms combined to make the Vr’amil’een, pound for pound, the most feared unarmed combatants in the sector.
The largest of the Vr’amil’een took a step forward, his toothed mouth open and full of acidic drool, gleaming blood-red in the scarlet glow of the flashlights. He held a massive, gnarled club in one hand, the top of which was furnished with the skull of some unfortunate animal.
“[Why you on path of Glu’ok’noor?]” he barked angrily, his throaty words translated by the chip in Daniel’s ear. “[You pay tribute to walk here.]” His comrades laughed ominously.
Before Daniel could respond, Dex spoke up, his words again translated seamlessly by the emitter on his chin. “[Bo’reg’tuth no pay. You let us pass.]” He had taken a step forward, and only a few paces separated him from the five deadly Vr’amil’een.
Daniel’s hand clenched around his weapon, still hidden under the folds of his cloak. Dex was trying to bully the drunken Vr’amil’een, but the Admiral doubted they were drunk enough to forget their five to two advantage. If his bluff failed and the lizard-men attacked, they would probably be killed by the ferocious reptiles before either of them could even squeeze off a shot.
It was quite a gamble, Daniel thought, but their other option was to acquiesce and pay the tribute—luckily they had brought a small amount of Vr’amil’een currency. However, there was little chance the bloodthirsty reptilians would merely let them go on their way once they had given in to their demands. Weak or cowardly Vr’amil’een had remarkably short life spans.
The lead Vr’amil’een laughed heavily. “[You no pay?]” he asked, in a tone Daniel guessed was amused surprise. “[Then you die.]” His tone now sounded deadly serious, and his claw clenched tightly around his staff. Even in the dim light Daniel could tell that his muscles had tensed, ready to uncoil and pounce at a moment’s notice.
“[All right,]” stammered Dex quickly. “[Bo’reg’tuth pay.]”
Glu’ok’noor relaxed slightly, a cruel smile forming around his misshapen lips. “[Give to Glu’ok’noor now,]” he demanded, motioning toward Dex with a clawed hand.
Dex reached under his cloak and produced a small object. Straining his eyes, Daniel could see it was not a coin.
“[Take it,]” said Dex, flipping it casually toward Glu’ok’noor.
The gas bomb seemed to arc toward him in slow motion. Daniel could see the husky lizard-man reflexively reach out a grubby claw to catch what he thought was a coi
n, and could see his jaw drop in shock as he realized it wasn’t. Dex had already begun to dive toward the left cavern wall, and Daniel hastily did the same, shielding his face and diving for the relative safety of the jagged wall to his right.
Daniel did not see the explosion as the gas bomb projected a thick cloud of smoke toward the startled Vr’amil’een mob. He heard its soft poof just as he landed on the ground with a painful jolt, half bouncing and half rolling into the unyielding wall of the ravine.
By the time he had achingly struggled to his feet, the five Vr’amil’een lay unconscious before him. The last wisps of greenish smoke dissipated into the stiff breeze and Glu’ok’noor’s staff, dropped from his hand as he fell, rolled to a stop at Daniel’s boot.
“You alright, Admiral?” asked Dex, looking over the fallen party. When the Admiral nodded, he added, “Sorry about that, sir. But it would have seemed unusual if you had spoken for us, being smaller than me and all.”
“Good work, Dex,” replied the Admiral, rubbing his bruised right shoulder, tacitly thankful that the thick cloak had cushioned the blow. “But we had better be long gone by the time they wake up.”
Dex nodded. “They should be out for a while, sir,” he predicted, smiling subtly. “Not so much from the gas, I think, as much as from the Un’qui’do.”
• • •
The Vr’amil’een city loomed ahead, its now nauseating red glow reminding the Admiral of the stark contrast between the planet’s teeming cities and its desolate wastelands. The city was as alien as anything Daniel had seen—deformed constructions, fabricated to simulate rock, jutted up from the rocky ground like giant glowing stalagmites, their illuminated peaks visible over the top of the great stone wall encircling the city. Towers and weapon emplacements adorned the top of the wall at seemingly random intervals, and the valley road they had followed led to a large, open gate through which a steady stream of Vr’amil’een passed.
As they got closer, the Admiral’s fears that they might have difficulty getting past the gate guards were allayed when he realized the guards were not doing much to stop the flow of travelers entering and leaving the city. Perhaps they were more diligent in their duties only when they were expecting violence or there was a tribal feud in progress.
Daniel wondered how the warlike Vr’amil’een had been able to come together to form a centralized government capable of uniting the planet enough to produce the impressive space armada they had before and seemed to be building again. The history of their current government, only 400 years old, had already seen its share of civil war, but it had wisely outlawed the production and use of weapons of mass destruction long ago. Vr’amil’een technology, which lagged far behind humans’ in many areas, was uncomfortably close in the military sphere—Vr’amil’een ships and weapons were formidable indeed, and the discrepancies in some areas, such as armour plating and projectile weapons, were almost nonexistent.
“Looks like we’ll just be able to walk right in,” whispered Dex, moving slightly closer to the Admiral. “The guards don’t seem to be overly vigilant in their duties.” Daniel figured that they were, like the majority of the population, probably mired in an Un’qui’do-induced haze at any given time. The lackadaisical apathy of the radar operator and these guards seemed to be prevalent amongst the Vr’amil’een.
By now they were quite close to the gate, and they had begun to mingle with the mob of reptilians pushing and shoving their way through. Daniel had trouble keeping from being knocked over by the massive Vr’amil’een, who probably hardly noticed the relatively violent jostling they were enduring. A couple of the guards seemed to cursorily scan the faces of those coming and going, and a few travelers seemed to have been picked out at random to be searched, probably more to alleviate the guards’ boredom than anything else. Daniel and Dex stayed in the middle of the moving river of Vr’amil’een, trying to avoid the glare of the guards. Before they knew it, they were through the gate and the crowd had begun to dissipate around them, fanning out into the city itself.
The Admiral nonchalantly checked his nanocomputer, which showed a three-dimensional overview of the city. Highlighted on the display was the records building, which should contain the information they were after: the Vr’amil’een fleet deployment specs and their plan of attack on the Confederation. The record building was not as heavily guarded as the main military complexes, but Daniel was sure getting in and retrieving the data would be far from easy. The Vr’amil’een tended to favor actual guards over high-tech security measures, and the Admiral doubted it would be quite as easy to slip past them as it had been to enter the city.
Daniel and Dex continued toward the records building, trying to keep to fairly well-traveled roads and avoiding the dangerous dark alleys as well as major thoroughfares. There were a decent number of Vr’amil’een out, most of them on foot but several riding in armoured hovercars that floated about a meter off the rocky ground. Even in the city, the ground was rough and pebble-strewn, and only the largest of streets were paved. The buildings, though most were actually formed of composite materials, were indistinguishable from rock by the naked eye, and were intentionally left jagged and unaltered from the monotonous russet color prevalent throughout the city. If one were to judge solely by the visual aspects of the city, the Vr’amil’een seemed to be a primitive race, indeed. Only the multitude of red lights and the occasional passing of a hovercar even hinted at their true technological ability.
No one stopped or talked to Dex or the Admiral during their trip to the records building—luckily, the Vr’amil’een were not very sociable. During the trip, Daniel noticed fewer and fewer Vr’amil’een on the streets as the night gave way to dawn and the large orange sun began to creep over the tops of the buildings on the horizon, bathing the city in a faint pink light.
The walk took almost an hour, and Daniel’s legs ached from the strain. The combination of the long walk across rocky terrain, high gravity, and oxygen-poor atmosphere had begun to take its toll, and Daniel could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, even in the cool morning air. Breathing heavily, Daniel fumbled under the folds of his cloak and pulled out the fluerenzinone syringe, injecting himself with another shot of the respiration-aiding chemical. His mouth was dry, as the arid Tu’oth’roor air was a far cry from the heavy humidity of the Florida Keys or even the artificially humidified air of the Apocalypse. He risked a heavy gulp of water from his canteen, making sure no curious Vr’amil’een eyes were on him, and glanced at Dex, who diplomatically pretended not to notice the Admiral’s difficulties. The upturned lip of his grotesque holographic facial projection, however, betrayed his knowing smirk.
Looking ahead, the Admiral could see that they had come to a great central square, where apparently many of the roads of the city converged. In the center of the square was an immense complex, shaped like a miniature mountain peak. It too, however, was dotted with reddish lights, some of which demarcated aircar landing platforms on its sides. It, like most of the buildings in the city, was completely windowless, and it was encircled by a thick, low wall that looked to be heavily guarded. The menacing aspect of the armed guards at the front gate led Daniel to believe that gaining entrance to the Capitol building, if necessary, would have been exceedingly difficult.
Continuing around to the right of the complex, careful not to stray too near the wall, Dex and the Admiral headed toward the records building, now visible around the edge of the Capitol. Much smaller and less imposing, the records building appeared to be guarded far less strictly. In fact, the windowless, rust-colored building had no external guards, only a set of double doors in the front. Daniel had noticed that most Vr’amil’een structures lacked rear entrances, presumably to make them more easily defensible.
“You ready for this, Admiral?” asked Dex as they approached the building, now only a hundred meters away. “Just give me about a minute before you come in.”
The Admiral nodded and veered off to his right, heading inconspicuously down a random
alley while Dex continued on toward the records building. Daniel tried not to look obvious as he watched Dex confidently stride up to the double doors. Without hesitation, he opened them and walked inside.
The minute Daniel waited seemed like an hour, as he listened carefully for any sounds of struggle from the records building, nervously sneaking furtive glances at his nanocomputer to check the time.
Finally, Admiral Atgard walked to the records building, and, covertly checking his sidearm, opened the double doors and walked inside.
The doors opened into a dimly-lit room with a large desk in front of a second pair of doors directly across from him, which appeared to be the only other exit from the room. Dex stood in front of the desk, talking with one of the two guards stationed there, and seemed to be doing quite well, judging by the fact that he was still alive.
Daniel’s eyes adjusted quickly to the dimmer light of the moderately-sized room, not really as dark as it had first seemed. He walked over to a crude bench near the left wall and sat down, finding that it was far from comfortable, even with the thick padding his cloak provided. Pretending to wait for Dex to finish, the Admiral got to work.
Daniel tried to move his hands inconspicuously beneath the cover of the cloak, reaching for the coin-sized, spider-like robot he had attached to his belt. He unfastened it from the belt and slid it down his leg toward the ground. It tumbled the last few centimeters, landing silently among the folds of the cloak, which rested upon the dusty floor. Daniel glanced downward and could see it emerge from under his cape, silently scurrying under the bench and quickly darting toward the wall, where its chameleon skin would mimic the color of the drab walls, hopefully allowing it to scamper undetected under the double doors and to its destination.
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