Veiled Planet (Hidden World Trilogy Book 1)

by Teagan Kearney

  She went to her room, and squashed the urge to look through her belongings and reminisce. Her priority was to be gone from here as fast as possible. She grabbed a large pack then ran straight to the store room. Minutes later, changed into her Marut clothes, she tossed a heavy pack crammed full of supplies into the helijet and set off again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Collaboration

  Marut Law:

  The family is sacred. Without the family, society fails.

  Senior Medical Officer Bryson stared up at Lorkan Marshall in a fit of apoplexy, his face redder than a desert sunset. "What did you say?"

  Lorkan spread his hands on Bryson’s desk as he leaned over the quivering man. "You heard me." He spoke louder, emphasizing every word. "I do not give my permission for you to perform any procedures on my daughter."

  Bryson pushed his small round frame out of the chair. He still had to look up to meet Lorkan’s eye.

  "But… but… yesterday…” His voice wobbled as he stabbed at his comunit screen. “Anyway, I don’t need your permission. I have an executive order approved by the highest authority in the colony, the Governing Council."

  Lorkan waited. Every nanosec he remained arguing with Bryson increased Kara's chances.

  "Here, see for yourself." Bryson thrust his comunit at Lorkan, who took his time perusing it before tossing it back onto the table. The medical officer grabbed it. "You know I’m right, Lorkan." His voice took on a whining edge. "You want your daughter to be reintegrated, to be a productive member of society, don’t you?" He looked down, unable to hold Lorkan’s gaze. "You know this is for her benefit. She doesn't realize she's pregnant. Think about it! Who knows what kind of mutant genes those savages might have in their blood?"

  "Savages? Well, that tells me everything I need to know."

  A knock on the door interrupted Lorkan. He turned and caught a young medic shaking his head at Bryson.

  "We'll track your helijet, Lorkan. Why don’t you save us the trouble of requesting a search permit and tell us where she is?"

  Lorkan shrugged his shoulders. "My daughter's whereabouts are not your concern and as I've legally lodged an appeal, you cannot touch her till we have the verdict."

  "If the circumstances are judged dangerous enough to the individual or the community, I can." He banged a hand on the desk.

  Lorkan leaned over, grabbed a fistful of Bryson’s tunic, and hauled him halfway over the desk. A distinct pallor replaced the officer's red flush, and his eyes widened till the whites of his eyes were huge as he came nose to nose with the angry father.

  "If my father finds out you have mindwiped his granddaughter and killed his great grandchild, your career will be finished. Here and anywhere else you think you can go." Lorkan spat the words out. "Believe me, my father has a very long reach, and an even longer memory." He released Bryson, who staggered back as the other man stalked toward the door.

  "Your father has no power here," Bryson stuttered, "and neither does nepotism." His jaw quivered, and he stared fearfully as Lorkan turned and paced back toward him.

  "If those with views like yours had been in charge, we’d never have left the first planet we inhabited." As he was about to close the door, he spoke once more. "Nepotism eh? Trust me, you haven't seen anything yet."

  Kara took her bearings. The line of trees her father had planted inside the magsen fence, marking the boundary of his land, lay behind her. He’d chosen a species known for their adaptability and hardiness not for their beauty, and from this height the sharp leaves covering the branches stuck up like spines on a jumpbeetle’s back. Much as she’d like to use the auto-pilot, that would make it easy to track her. Instead, she brought up the only map the helijet’s data provided. Checking her co-ordinates, she headed southwest toward the butte formations the tribe had passed through after the bear attack. Rishi’s tribe would surely be heading back that way. There were more of the strange rock formations dotted along the scrubland belt, but all except this one were too far from the base.

  Below and over to her right the scrub vegetation merged into grass-covered hills with trees appearing higher up the slopes. In other places nothing grew, and gray rocks, mottled with red moss stretched out and dug hard fingers into the dun-colored sand that marked the desert’s encroachment.

  The sun was at midday and she’d crossed the scrubland belt, leaving the mountains a thin gray smudge on the horizon, when she decided it was time to recharge the heliacal cell. Up till now she’d spotted no signs of Marut activity. Landing near a small outcrop of rocks—too small to contain a well—she climbed out, breathed in a lungful of hot dry air, and gave a long sigh of relief. Assailed by the midday heat, she was glad she'd hung onto her Marut clothes. Sweat ran down her forehead into her eyes, but she didn’t care. She was free of Bryson and his control, and somewhere out here, she’d find Rishi. She could just picture Ikeya, Yleni and the boys trekking with the tribe back from the Summer Meet, the satyrs plodding along, pulling the carts, and barely affected by the noonday sun.

  Even though she hadn’t reached the true desert, she stamped the sand around the helijet, checking for sandbeasts, and saw not a ripple, before squatting in the smidgen of shade the transport provided. Rishi would be pleased if he saw her remembering his lessons. Her supplies would last for a week if she was careful. The helijet would last forever—well, as long as there was sunlight to recharge the fuel cell.

  She munched on a survival bar, pondering the best pattern to use for a search. Bryson would have people scouring the settlement for her by now. Thank the universe he didn’t have access to satellite surveillance. Her father had gone to Arkarus, to the highest authority in the Triumvirate to get a one-time waiver to the colony’s treaty with the Maruts. She was pretty sure Bryson didn’t have the connections or authority to repeat Lorkan’s action, but he had seemed fixated on using her as a guinea pig. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of being helpless and at his mercy. She had to find Rishi and Ikeya in case Bryson decided to flout the rules and come after her.

  Her appearance among the tribes had revealed deep divisions, but she hadn’t created them, they already existed, hidden and festering under the surface. Some regarded her as a friend, others thought her the enemy. The dangers of living with the Maruts or the risks she faced in the colony? She had already chosen.

  She unraveled a loose red thread from the bottom of her tunic, pulled it out, and tied it into her hair. She ran her fingers through her hair, longer than it had ever been, and tucked the stray curling strands behind her ears. Patients undergoing mind-wipes had their heads shaved before the procedure. She shivered again. She wasn’t safe yet. Another hour or two and she’d reach the desert proper and begin a methodical search. She’d have to find another landing spot well before dark to make sure she’d be able to make an early morning start.

  Back in the air, and with her spirits high, there were still no signs of the Maruts. All the tribes would be returning to their homes after the Summer Meet, but she was assuming the Eastern Desert nomads had to pass somewhere along this stretch because the mountains where they’d found her were in this region. They’d also be eager to get home because the storm season would be arriving soon; another reason to find the tribe as quickly as possible. The helijet wouldn't survive an arravata storm.

  Late afternoon she brought the helijet down. She wanted to keep searching but she hadn’t slept last night, and needed the rest of the daylight hours for the plane to recharge. Too tired to do much else, she ate another survival bar and threw a blanket on the floor. Exhausted from the lack of sleep and coming down from the adrenaline rush of her escape, she slept and dreamed of Rishi.

  Waking early, she munched on another bar as she lifted the little craft into the air and resumed her quest for the Maruts. At midday she repeated yesterday’s routine, stopping to recharge the fuel cell and chomp down another survival bar, but by late afternoon, the monotony of the landscape was making it difficult to concentrate. She resisted the temptation
to use the autopilot, even though she’d caught herself nodding off more than once. She didn’t want to give Bryson any reason for a foray to bring her back. Just when she thought about looking for a place to land for the night, she spotted a large circle of carts a little distance from a group of rocks. Nearby a herd of satyrs grazed on the familiar spread of green spiny lappa bushes.

  She flew a wide semi-circle, as she didn’t want to spook the satyrs, spotting the sticklike figures pointing up at the helijet. As she flew over the camp she caught a glimpse of someone she thought was Yleni. The prospect of this being her and Rishi's tribe were good. Who else traveled this route? She laughed. Her tribe. It wasn’t until she thought she’d never see them again that she realized how strong her bond to them had grown.

  She went over her plan. If somehow this was an unknown tribe, they still couldn’t refuse her request for help and shelter. They may even have witnessed her struggle with the so-called rescuers as they'd hauled her aboard the shuttle. Dressed as a Marut, she could claim sanctuary based on her status as Rishi’s wife. The idea sounded good in her head. As long as they didn’t throw those fearsome spears or fire any deadly crossbow bolts at her, she stood a chance.

  As she climbed out of the helijet several figures dashed out of the camp toward her, trews and shawls flapping as they ran. Breathe deep, she told herself, going over the formal phrases she remembered Rishi using with Hitam’s tribe. As they neared, she could hear them calling to each other. No, she realized. They weren't calling to each other, they were calling her. Kara! Kara! It couldn’t be. But as they neared and blurred features came into focus, she saw Yleni coming toward her with a huge grin on her face.

  Two smaller figures came barreling ahead, and flung themselves on her. The boys threw their arms around her waist and hugged her tight, excited as sand fleas on a satyr’s back. Then Yleni hugged her, and they both cried.

  "Are you okay?" Yleni ran her fingers over Kara’s face as if to check she wasn’t seeing a mirage, wiping the tears away with a tender touch. She turned to Dashara, who’d come up behind her, her hands clasped to the silvery necklace on her ample chest. "Your visions are true."

  As more people hurried over, Kara looked but saw only women and children.

  “Where’s Rishi?” Why wasn’t he here? She needed to see him. Touch him.

  Yleni’s expression altered.

  “What's wrong? He’s still alive, isn’t he?” Her hand went to her belly.

  “He’s fine, but come to the camp. Join us. We’re just about to eat. Afterward I’ll tell you.”

  Kara swallowed her impatience, knowing better than to argue with Yleni. Seated between the two boys while Yleni served hot spicy stew, flatbreads, and caj tea, Kara sighed with pleasure. Home and freedom. All she needed to complete the picture was Rishi. "Tell me Yleni, where is he? And where’s Ikeya? I see none of the men are here. Where are they?"

  Yleni refused to say a word until Kara finished the bowl, had eaten several flatbreads, and drained her cup of caj tea. She then sent the boys to play. "After you left, and we all saw how unwilling you were to go, the Elders, the Inner Council, and the other tribal leaders realized Hitam had been having clandestine communication with your people. He revealed under questioning that he’d contacted your people, demanding extra metal for weapons if he told them where you were."

  "What did they do to him?" She remembered Ikeya's threat of banishment.

  "He is no longer the Shanwatah. But greater than his illicit contact with your people, that which condemned him most in our eyes was by returning you to the colonists, he violated the sacred bond between husband and wife. You must know that once a couple form the bond and declare each other beloved, separating them by force breaks one of the basic laws of our society. That was unforgiveable, and he awaits trial by the Elders. They chose Taruba, from the destroyed tribe, as the new leader."

  They'd punished Hitam for his deceits, and Kara was glad, but she was still puzzled. "Where is Rishi now?"

  Yleni sighed. "You won’t believe this."

  "Not if you don’t tell me, I won’t." Kara itched to shake the information out of Yleni. "The Council of Elders decided that the colonists broke the trade agreement by invading our territory and taking a hostage."

  "A hostage?"

  "Yes, you. According to our Law, when you agreed to marry Rishi, you became one of us. The men have taken up arms and are somewhere between the Summer Meet and your settlement. They are riding to declare war on your colony."

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Reunited

  Marut Lover’s Saying:

  Every time we part, we lose a little of ourselves. Every time we meet again,

  we regain and double what was lost.

  Helijets were economic and reliable; the one thing they didn't have was speed. Kara sat at the controls chewing her lower lip and tried every technique she’d ever learnt to calm herself without success. Thanks to Yleni, she knew which direction the tribesmen had taken from the Summer Meet toward the base, which meant returning via a route roughly parallel to her outward one, hoping to intersect them.

  The question of the damage done to relations between the two races during her incarceration chased endlessly around her mind. It didn’t help that this happened because her father’s action had been taken out of love for her. The damage had been caused, and the consequences had to be dealt with.

  The flight path took her out over the desert proper, and it stretched, a vast yellow gold sea, battered by the sun under a faultless pale blue sky. The tribeswomen’s circle of carts soon disappeared, and heat waves rose, distorting her view. Despite her days of traveling with Rishi's clan, the desert's immensity was staggering. She felt like a tiny zikbug searching for a place to lay its eggs amidst the hairs on a satyr's back.

  “You should have heard Ikeya speak, Kara.” Yleni had told her. “Even as that machine took off with you inside it, he demanded the Elders call a leaders’ Clannad.”

  Kara tried to remember her classes on the rights of indigenous hominids. Her recall of Planetary Treaties from the History of Space Exploration and Settlement was limited, but she did remember reading that when the dominant indigenous species refused full contact, they retained the right to eject the newcomers from the planet. The instructor had made a specific point of noting that no instances of the incomers actually being expelled had ever been recorded.

  She understood why Ikeya wanted their races to work together more. Not total integration, because that would result in domination, but he recognized his people faced stagnation and decline if they remained too inward looking and were unable to recognize the advantages that came with the spacefaring settlers. He had no intention of allowing his culture to be absorbed or destroyed, but aimed to cherry-pick which technologies they wanted to have access to—such as medical. Kara couldn’t figure out why he was instigating a war. Surely Marut honor hadn’t been offended to the extent they were obliged to take such a drastic step?

  A declaration of hostilities required the colonists to pack up, dismantle the compound, and depart Hamarkhis for at least a generation. Lorkan would be devastated as it would mean everything he and her mother had worked toward would count for nothing. If the Maruts thought the Council would forget this world existed and leave it alone, they were wrong. The mineral deposits shown up on the original sweep-by meant they would bide their time. This planet, despite its unstable moons, was too valuable to be left undeveloped. The Maruts' action would stem the tide for the present, but the colonists would return; ultimately the Maruts were powerless to avoid change.

  That day she had plenty of time to mull over the current state of affairs as her search merged into one long blur. Stops to recharge the fuel cell were spent in a torpid daze, and the alarm warning her of rapid height loss jerked her awake more than once when she’d nodded out staring at the line separating land and sky. By the fourth morning, she was well into the scrubland belt, sick of survival bars and forcing herself to chew the stuff. She’d be no use
to anyone if she crashed her vehicle because she’d passed out from hunger.

  Pulling up the map, she estimated she must be getting close to the base, and should, hopefully, come across the Maruts by noon. Then she spotted them. Or rather she saw the vast cloud of dust raised by the satyrs’ hooves as the tribesmen moved across the semi-arid scrubland ahead of her. Rishi was down there, and she pictured the fierce frown line that appeared as his eyebrows drew together when he was angry. It had taken three of Hitam’s men to hold him when Bryson's medics took her. Her heart pounded faster.

  As she drew close, the smooth hum of the engine was drowned out by the muted thunder of the satyrs’ hooves as they struck the earth. She drew level and overtook the galloping horde. Those in the rear spotted the craft, and Kara noted with a shiver of nervous anticipation the spears and fists brandished in her direction as she flew over.

  The tribes' anger had been aroused because of the settlers’ actions, and she hoped Rishi would be able to stop any trouble if she needed help after she landed. Truth be told, she was distinctly uneasy about her plan. Which was what? Land, hold up her hand, stop the multitude of Marut hunters and warriors, reunite with Rishi and live happily ever after? She gave a dry laugh. What were her choices? Hatching a scheme and dashing off to execute it without examining the possible consequences in detail wasn’t typical of her. What was wrong with her? A lifetime of careful analytical thinking seemed to have gone by the board. At the moment her heart and instincts ruled, not logic and reason.

  She had the option of returning to base with the possibility of having her memories of Rishi and her time with the Maruts erased, losing her baby, and her identity to boot. Or land some distance ahead of the Maruts, and face a horde of incensed tribesmen? The decision was easy, and she didn’t hesitate. She picked a landing site.