Legend Beyond The Stars

by S. E. GILCHRIST

  “It sure does make sense. I do realise how we can’t pin our hopes on a bunch of aliens, but I so wish we could as I’m sure gonna miss my guys.”

  “One word—slaves.” Alana shook her head sadly at her friend’s wobbling mouth. “So can I count on your support, Jess? I know there’re going to be quite a few women who will want to stay but we must make every effort to take everyone with us when we leave.”

  “I’m with you totally, Captain. As always.”

  Alana gave Jessamine a grateful smile. “Great. Now can you please round up Elise, Tina and Linette? Tell them to ensure the other women are kept busy organising normal routines. You know, continue with the ideas we discussed the other day, a communal mess hall, hair salon, medical clinic, a group to look into clothing, another to look into personal needs. Anything else on our list. Put Linette in charge.” She waved a hand in the air and straightened her shoulders, picked up the pace and marched towards the city.

  Jessamine lengthened her long legs to keep pace with her. “And us?”

  Alana grinned wolfishly. “We’re going to find out exactly what is going on around here. And to do this, we need Norman. Where is he?”

  ”He and Elise are still foolin’ around with the music system. It was a good idea of his to download it, so we won’t lose it.”

  “It was a great idea. To be able to continue to listen to music from home long after our solar batteries have failed, will be so good for our morale. Hopefully it’ll keep us strong.”

  “They’re also workin’ on copyin’ any photos and any other personal stuff from our compus.” Jessamine sniffed loudly.

  Alana squeezed her hand. “I hate to think where we would have been now, without him.”

  “You would have managed somethin’.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Her friend’s support shone a beacon of light in the void of misery which existed in her heart. “What’s the word on the mood of the women?”

  “You mean, honey, how do they feel about bein’ used and dumped on some alien planet?” Jessamine grimaced. “Similar to how we feel—to put it mildly, pissed off.” She sighed. “And, heartbroken.”

  “Anger is better than grief. It’ll fuel our motivation to save ourselves.”

  Jessamine continued in a wail, “I sure don’t understand it though. One minute they’re all over us, as if they’re starvin’ and next they’re troopin’ off to war with barely a backwards glance.” Tears rained down her face.

  “They’re not like us remember. As an alien race we have limited knowledge of whether they’re even capable of emotion as we know it. And they’re soldiers.” Alana kept her voice cool, her heart wrenching at her friend’s unhappiness.

  ”Yeah, I know.” Jessamine blew her nose again. She gave a watery smile. “And just to top it off, they’re men. Triple whammy.”

  “Tell me about it.” Alana paused before continuing in grim tones, “There’s something else.”

  “That doesn’t sound so good.”

  “Yeah and I suspect it isn’t so good either.” She recounted the Commander’s parting sentence.

  Jessamine stumbled to a halt and gazed with round eyes at her. “Surely you don’t think he meant …?”

  “The more I think about it the more I’m positive that’s exactly what he meant. There are no women and children. At all. It certainly explains these blokes’ black moods and the atmosphere in this place.”

  “Oh, moma! This is serious stuff and they kept this from us?”

  “Puts us firmly in our place doesn’t it?” Alana said. “They’ve got nothing to lose, Jess. This is why I don’t think they’ll be coming back. But I still think there’s something underhand going on here.”

  “Do you think it involves us?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out. In the meantime, we work on a way off this rock.”

  In silence they climbed the steps leading to the entrance of the women’s quarters, their boots clattering loudly against the stone. Three guards stood on duty at the entrance. Alana examined them as she followed Jessamine through the door.

  She jerked her head towards the doorways. “That’s new.”

  Jessamine shrugged. “Maybe the Commander’s idea of extra protection.”

  “Maybe,” Alana said, not really buying into it. For one thing she had noticed their uniform was different to the uniform the Darkon warriors had worn on the Ark. The uniform appeared similar to the Royal Guards’ uniform. Alana passed a finger along her jawline.

  So were the guards there to protect them or to guard them?

  Either way they were going to be seriously in her way.

  The dancing hall of the night before had been transformed back to its original purpose. Without the cloak of darkness, the room appeared cold and uninviting. Alana shivered. The temperature here in this city was far too low for her liking, just like the temperature on the Ark, she remembered. The air there too had been chilly and she had been thankful for the warmth engendered by her flight suit, but here the atmosphere was also dank and sombre.

  Alana rubbed her hands over her arms to generate some warmth and strode to where Elise and Norman were huddled together over some equipment. With interest she perused the odd assortment of what she assumed were alien forms of computers or artificial intelligence. Dimly she was aware of the other women entering the building. Gradually noise and activity filled the empty space chasing the shadows away.

  ”What is all this stuff?” asked Jessamine, and then wailed hastily. “No, no. I take it back. Please don’t bombard me with techno detail. I can’t stand it.”

  Undeterred, Elise grinned. “Some of this stuff as you call it, Norman pinched from the Ark.”

  Both Alana and Jessamine turned admiring glances at the Jurian who preened at their attention.

  “To put it in very basic layman’s terms,” Elise laid her hand over a small rectangular box, “we now have a medical analysis machine. This over here is a tracking device. It is also capable of listening into transmissions within a certain distance. Norman did tell me how far but we can’t quite figure out what that means in our terms yet.”

  “Brilliant. This is just what we need,” approved Alana.

  “We also have miniature transponders. See here, Alana. This you will like!” Norman gestured towards a larger metal container, his eyes blinking with rapid movements with his excitement. “This is a navigation device.”

  Amazement stole her breath for several beats. “A navigation device,” she croaked, her eyes riveted to the box.

  Norman leaned closer and hissed, “For navigating courses between worlds.”

  “Oh my gawd!” breathed Jessamine in awe, as she in turn stared goggle eyed. “We can find our way home.”

  “No.”

  ”What do you mean, no? Norman, you just said it can show us the way between different planets.”

  “Calm down, Jess. Don’t eat him. What I think Norman means is this machine can show us different routes if we have gateway maps. Am I right, Norman ?”

  Norman beamed with as much pride as if he was Alana’s parent. “This is correct, Alana. Gateway maps we must have and thanks to you, we do have one.”

  “What?”

  From within the depths of his baggy flight suit, Norman produced an object which looked vaguely familiar to Alana and held it out to her. “The gift from the Scaleen trader you rescued.”

  Jessamine punched the air jubilantly. “Yes!”

  The Jurian edged sideways, eyeing her with caution. Alana stared at the small box.

  “Have you had a chance to examine it, Norman ?” She waited for his response, her heart like thunder in her ears.

  Norman managed an aggrieved expression. “Of course, Alana.”

  “And …?” she prompted.

  “It is not what you are seeking, for which I am sorry.”

  Alana sucked in a deep breath and struggled for a few seconds to control her disappointment. The excitement withered from her friends�
�� faces, leaving them looking naked and forlorn like winter trees. They were on the brink of tears.

  She didn’t feel much better herself but managed to say, “Then what’s on it, Norman ?”

  He waved it in the air and leaned closer to hiss, “This may be of value to the Commander. The cube holds the location of the Supreme Leader’s base.”

  Alana folded her arms across her chest and rocked back on her heels. She smirked at the ceiling. “Well, well, well. Ladies, it looks as if we’ve got ourselves a bargaining chip.”

  “It sure balances the scales more in our favour,” Jessamine said rubbing her hands with glee.

  “It sure does.”

  “Then this is good?” Norman queried, his eyes as round as gooseberries.

  “Yep it sure is, but this is our secret, Norman. Only the four of us are to know about the map.”

  They nodded and Alana, after casting a narrow look at the small group surrounding her, was satisfied. It was obvious they didn’t understand why the other women couldn’t be told but she was confident they would respect her orders. The map would remain their secret. One which Alana would use only as a last resort. She remembered the words of the Scaleen trader and smiled. She mentally saluted him and hoped he had been able to reach his people having disembarked with rations and coinage on a small habited planet before they reached Cerciron. He had proved a worthy ally with his gift.

  “Now back to business,” she directed. “Norman, that listening device we have here, is there any way we can rig it to eavesdrop on say, a meeting which involves the king? Where we come from we have little transmitters which can be picked up by listening devices some distance away. I am hoping this one will be similar.”

  Her friends gasped with surprise. Norman’s eyes practically fell from their sockets in shock.

  “Hush, Alana,” he squeaked. “If we are heard discussing such matters, we will be branded as traitors or agitators.”

  “Well, since we’re already branded slaves I can see any other status as being upwards.”

  Elise stifled a nervous giggle behind her hands. Jessamine tossed her long hair as she indicated her agreement. “Now that’s talking.”

  “It is possible,” Norman admitted, misery evident in his mournful voice.

  “Then I suggest ladies and gent we begin work straight away. I want to find out what’s going on here and to do this I need to listen into their leader’s conversations. How long do you think it will take, Norman ?”

  “Not too long. The difficulty will be in planting the transmitter in the royal receiving chamber which has been the king’s preferred meeting place of late.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. Firstly, let’s get this up and running.”

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  They worked for the remainder of the waking hours under Norman’s directions. Every now and then some of the other women would wander over curious to see what was occupying their time, but as they had little knowledge of electronics and even less of the alien technology they drifted away again.

  Planting the ‘bug’ had proved surprisingly easy as Alana had been ordered to appear for an audience with the king after the last meal of the day. More of an interrogation than an audience, Alana thought as she lay sleepless in her hard bunk after the light from the energy sphere diminished and the curfew began.

  The king’s questions and the way his eyes had burned so coldly had sent the hairs on her arms standing to attention. His thin hands curved over the armrest of the throne made her think of the talons of a rabid animal. It had been so bitingly cold in the hall she had had difficulty in suppressing her body’s desire to shiver and suspected he had ordered the temperature to be lowered. When he had finally dismissed her, she had wobbled out of the hall and stumbled on the rocky surface of the roadway, her feet feeling as if they were frozen ice blocks inside her boots.

  Alana had been happy to escape from such a humourless man. A guard kept her company when she had left the hall.

  Or more to the point, ensuring she was secured in her sleeping quarters instead of being free to roam at will.

  She pulled her blanket up to neck and snuggled into its warmth. Yes, they were definitely prisoners.

  So much for Tarak’s promise.

  The line of questioning from the king was directed at obtaining not only information about Alana, her friends and their home planet which she had expected, but also about the doings of his son. Something which surprised her, but on reflection, Alana knew she should have foreseen. She had been left with the distinct impression Tarak’s authority was being deliberately eroded, and by his father no less. She turned over to lie on her other side.

  All through the long conference, Lord Atolo had sat by the king’s side, smiling and nodding at her. Lord Barid and several other members of the council had also been present but none had dared to interrupt. All kept a mute, watchful presence which gave her the creeps. She had kept her answers as brief and as uncommunicative as possible.

  Rajan had not been impressed with her caution.

  Alana rolled over onto her back and glared into the darkness trying to squash her instinctive desire to help Tarak. He was in serious trouble she just knew it. Heaven knew he was quite capable of looking after himself, and she was sure the last thing he wanted was some lowly ‘slave’ running about protecting him, but still … she sighed.

  What a mess.

  Tensions were running so high on this planet she suspected boiling point would be reached soon. She had to get the women away from here and fast.

  But if she did, she would leave Tarak to face his fate alone.

  If he returned.

  She stared dry eyed into the tomb-like gloom that shrouded the room reflecting on all that had happened since that fateful day when she had been awakened. At first she had been desperate to return home and now … Alana swallowed hard.

  She did not dare turn her thoughts in that direction.

  She couldn’t.

  The other women’s safety was of paramount importance. There was no future for her here. Tarak had made that clear.

  Irritated at how she kept dwelling on her personal feelings, she kicked off the blanket. The tramp of booted feet across the tiled floor alerted her she was no longer alone and someone had entered her room.

  Alana rolled sideways off the bed, to land in a half crouch on her bare feet. She sprang up and her clenched fist landed squarely on the unprotected face of a warrior. He grunted with surprise and reeled backwards. It was all the leverage she needed, as she lashed out with both legs and smashed him in the stomach. The guard expelled a whoosh of air and doubled up.

  Two other warriors set upon her and although Alana tried all her moves, she was unable to break their hold on her arms.

  “We have orders to shoot, if you fail to obey,” said one of the guards.

  A stunner pressed against her temple killed any further desire to resist.

  “I insist you allow me to dress,” her voice rang cold with authority. The guard hesitated before giving a grudging assent. He lowered his weapon and they released their hold on her arms, angling their bodies away from her and stared at the ceiling while she pulled on her cargo pants and boots.

  Alana shot them a quick glance and checked her pockets.

  The warrior she had kicked straightened and shook his head like a wet dog. One long stride and he was beside her. He grabbed her, his armoured fingers pinching into the flesh of her upper arm as he wrestled her out the door and out of the building.

  She lashed out with her boot taking satisfaction from his grunt as she made contact with his shin.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re taking me?” They stumbled to a halt in front of another Darkon warrior. “I demand you let me go.”

  “As a slave you are not authorised to speak without permission. Take her and the others to the ship.” The warrior waved a hand and stepped aside to let them pass.

  Alana glared over her shou
lder at him as she was dragged away. From his uniform, she recognised his rank as a captain in the Royal Guards. His black eyes as they met hers were empty cold pools of darkness.

  There would be no recourse with him.

  Surrounded by a contingent of soldiers, she had no choice but to accede to their demands for the time being. She would wait, conserve her energy and watch for the opportune moment to escape.

  When the soldiers hustled her around the corner, she heard squeals and cries behind her, resonating with fury and fear. So the other women were being dragged from their beds, too. Had Tarak’s promise they would be safe been nothing but empty words? Was he another man who could not be relied on? Or was he being betrayed by his father? Or by another?

  Grimly Alana realised the answers to these questions would have to wait. Their very lives could be at stake.

  Thoughts and half formed plans for escape spun through her mind as she and the other women marched through the dark streets towards the chutes. But too many silent soldiers trooped beside them.

  Heavily armed soldiers. With reluctance she shelved the notion of making a break. Even if she evaded the soldiers alone, the thought of leaving the other women to their fate was too much to bear.

  She snorted. Not that there was anywhere to run to.

  They were surrounded by enemies.

  When the doors of the chute opened on the hangar level, Alana jerked her arms out of the rough hold of the two warriors by her sides and, jaw clenched, strode through the passageways. There were very few Darkon warriors at their posts in and around the departure bay. So their removal was to be kept secret.

  Then who could be the instigator? Alana paused at the end of the ramp. Her gaze swept the area one last time, looking for anything which could aid them. The cavern yawned empty of options.

  A warrior grabbed her wrist and jerked her over the threshold and into the shuttle. Moments later, secured in a chair, she stared at the metal door closed against her. She turned to the other women sharing the small chamber with her and tried to smile. She twisted her head to the other side and noticed Jessamine sitting several rows behind her.