Southern Discontent (Free Trader Series Book 7)

by Craig Martelle

  In the back of her mind, the desire to punish the raiders haunted her thoughts, held her anger back, ready to unleash it. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that. She shook her head to clear the thoughts and focus on the task at hand, which was to expand the trade routes to the south and include Southport on the quest to link all of Vii together.

  Transitions

  Doctor Johns met Zeller, Tom, and Neeson at the edge of the growing oasis. A Bot waited patiently to unload the wagon and tow it to a vehicle storage area.

  Zeller pointed to the wagon, but Doctor Johns waved her off.

  “We’re ready to send you to the Traveler. Is this our patient?” the scientist asked, bending closer to Neeson. The ‘cat raised a lip in a partial snarl, but the doctor didn’t notice. He was looking at the ‘cat’s injuries. “Yes, the ship’s medical facilities will fix that right up. Please come with me.”

  The old man turned and walked away without waiting for an acknowledgment. Zeller looked at her wagon. The Bot was already removing the sacks. She felt like she was forgetting something.

  Tom kneeled down. “We need to do this. Once it’s done, you’ll wonder why you didn’t do it earlier. We’ll be there together, all of us.

  ‘Not all of us,’ Arnie replied.

  That was what Zeller was forgetting. She hurried to the Aurochs’ head, cradling it and kissing his nose. “We’ll be back before you know it. Don’t get fat on us while you’re waiting!”

  ‘I will be here.’ Arnie sniffed the air to smell the humidity within the fields and the scent of growing things. ‘I smell lunch.’

  She and Tom stood hand in hand as the Aurochs walked away. Neeson was between standing and sitting. Tom picked up the ‘cat, making his mind up for him. “The man said it was time to go. We can’t finish if we don’t start, so let’s get this over with.”

  They headed toward a small building within the oasis where the scientist was impatiently waiting.

  He held the door, allowing cool air to blow out. They were reminded of the cool air at the oases on their journey through the desert. The small room they were being shown was something different. They stopped without going in.

  “It’s an elevator. We’ll enter, the doors will close, and it will descend to the factory level where the matter transfer chamber is located. Then you will take your seats and we’ll send you and a couple of our scientists to the Traveler, where your Hillcat will undergo treatment to reset his broken bones and repair other underlying issues. Please.” Doctor Johns held the sliding doors open.

  They still wouldn’t enter.

  “You will have to use elevators on the Traveler. Might as well get used to it now.” The doctor entered and turned to face them. “You have about two seconds to decide.”

  When the doors started to close, Zeller stabbed her hand in between and pulled the door open. She stood in the doorway as Tom carried Neeson inside.

  The ‘cat started to yowl. She stepped inside. As the doors closed, she breathed faster until her breathing became ragged. The elevator began to move and they braced themselves against the walls while Doctor Johns closed his eyes and wished the elevator would move faster, but it was going deep below ground.

  The elevator slowed and stopped with a barely perceptible bump. The doors opened and Zeller rushed out with Tom on her heels. They stopped when they saw they were in a fantastic Old Tech space. Machines on top of machines, belts, rollers, and materials, a soft din of nonstop activity.

  Doctor Johns pushed his way past and waved for them to follow him down a walkway.

  The matter transfer chamber was tucked at the back end of the factory level. Its door was a section of wall that moved aside to allow the travelers inside. Each would get their own reclining chair to sit in, as the technology required their separation. Twelve chairs were arranged radially around a central core.

  The room was exact in its dimensions, down to a micron, so the computer system could deal with fewer unknowns during the transfer process.

  Neeson needed his own recliner, so Tom put him in place. The ‘cat continued to moan his displeasure.

  The two scientists were already reclined. They covered their ears to block out the sound of the unhappy ‘cat.

  Tom and Zeller climbed into their chairs, put their backpacks and weapons between their legs, and the entire group received a transfer briefing from Holly. Doctor Johns wrapped bracelets around each person’s wrist. He also handed Zeller a communication device and a piece of paper.

  “These are the directions to the medical facility. Follow them exactly. You don’t want to get lost on the Traveler. It is a very large ship. If you’ll excuse me, I wish you well.” Doctor Johns departed while the briefing continued. The wall moved back into place, sealing them in.

  As they were directed, the group members stayed still as the room began to shimmer. They kept their thoughts to themselves as darkness descended. Neeson stopped yowling as the travelers disappeared into a dreamless sleep while the process worked, flawlessly, as always.

  The four people and one Hillcat opened their eyes, seemingly only a few heartbeats after the process started, but it had been nearly a full day according to Vii time.

  Tom started to sit up, but his stomach rebelled. He tried to lean back, but it was too late. He leaned sideways and started puking. Once Zeller smelled it, she joined him.

  “I don’t feel much better,” Tom said when we was done dry-heaving. The scientists moved slowly, as if trapped in a heavy mud. Their feet hit the deck at nearly the same time.

  “We have arrived, Holly. Please open the door,” one of them asked while breathing heavily through his mouth.

  Neeson stretched and jumped to the floor, freezing in place at the feel of the ship’s spin.

  ‘It’s weird. I think I’m going to fall over,’ he told Tom.

  Tom slid from his recliner, letting his feet touch before trying to stand. He felt it, too. “It’s the spin of the ship. Holly explained it during the briefing.”

  ‘So?’ Neeson replied.

  The wall slid aside and the two scientists staggered side to side as they worked their way from the room.

  “I see what you mean,” Tom replied as he tried to acclimate himself to the motion. He walked with a lean, stumbling past the puke on the floor.

  Neeson kept his breakfast inside.

  “Did you eat anything?” Tom asked.

  ‘No.’

  “It feels like I haven’t either. I could eat a horse!”

  Tom forced a laugh and Zeller moaned. She stood on unsteady feet and staggered out of the matter transfer chamber. She blinked her eyes clear and pulled the paper from her pocket. She looked at the map before reading the instructions. She looked from the map to the engineering space and back to the map. She flipped over the paper and read.

  Zeller turned to her right and started walking. “Come on. It’s this way.”

  ***

  ‘I have to eat, or I’m going to pass out,’ Brandt told them.

  “But you can’t eat this stuff,” Braden tried to explain. His friend’s eyes rolled in his head. He was getting weak. It had been too long without food and he’d run too hard.

  Braden kicked himself for allowing it to happen, even though the King had insisted. Braden had hoped that different grasses would appear. But they didn’t. It was more of the same, much more, enticingly sweet and fresh-smelling.

  The King of the Aurochs succumbed to the need and ripped up a huge mouthful of the grass, then another and another. The others painfully watched him eat. He plowed a furrow in the grass, drawing a straight line to the south as he picked up speed, eating and walking.

  “The grass may be okay!” Braden exclaimed with a cheer and started jogging after his friend. The Wolfoid pups loped uncomfortably with Bounder by their side. Aadi struggled to keep up. When Braden realized the Tortoid was falling back, he ran around in a circle and grabbed Aadi’s shell in both hands to propel him forward.

  Until the King of the Aurochs
started to stagger.

  “Aaaahhhh,” he groaned happily as he fell to his knees, then toppled, shaking the ground when he hit.

  The group gathered around. The two Hawkoids swooped low and landed on the one horn ticking up in the air. Having seen the village hours earlier, they were ready to rest for the evening. The group could be there tomorrow if they wished.

  If they could get Brandt upright and moving. That didn’t look to happen any time soon.

  “Making camp,” Braden said as he called the others to a cleared spot where he started to draw a map of the village. He checked in with Holly to confirm that all twenty-five of the Wolfoid spears were accounted for. Twenty were in one building and five were in various places outside the perimeter.

  He smiled and explained it to the others. “We are going against five and not twenty-five. Our odds are vastly improved.”

  ***

  Gailey met them at the nondescript Old Tech building that led to the rooms far underground. Before stepping inside, Micah accessed her neural implant. ‘We’re going in, Holly. I’ll contact you as soon as we’re back outside.’

  Micah focused her eyes again, found Gailey staring at her, and shrugged. “Shall we?” Micah asked, looking first to Gaily and then to Strider and Fea.

  The Rabbits had stayed on board with the twins, Klytus, and Shauna. Micah assumed that this was going to be less contentious and a quick meeting. The pups continued to guard the ship, with Hope and Chester on deck. Holly was watching in case they went against their word and tried to get inside.

  No one had seen the scientists in days.

  Micah thought about all of that in the moments before she stepped through the door, letting it close behind her. They walked down the stairs, but slowed as noise rose from the level of the meeting room.

  “Gailey?” Micah wondered, stopping.

  “We have a number of interested parties. Heads of each of the craft guilds, the fishermen’s coalition, and more.”

  Micah crossed her arms and tapped a foot.

  “What? This is an important decision. We couldn’t make it all by ourselves.”

  Micah loosened her blaster and continued downward. Strider tapped her spear. ‘Fea, be mindful of our lines of fire,’ Micah shared over the mindlink, looking at the meeting as a tactical combat situation and not a diplomatic effort.

  Gailey walked through the doors with her arms raised, calling for quiet.

  Micah had rarely seen so many people packed into such a small space. And every one of those times, it portended a monumental change in the lives of those attending.

  She wondered if this would be more of the same.

  After a deep breath, she looked around the room. Usually Braden made the speeches, but she was the President.

  “My name is Micah and I come from the east. I live in New Sanctuary with my partner, the Free Trader. He has connected the north with the south, bringing livestock and trade, securing the routes from east to west. We have now come south and ask only for you to consider what you may have excess and what you may be lacking. We might be able to help, but I ask that you help us. Men, raiders, from somewhere east of here have attacked us and stolen some Old Tech, powerful Old Tech. They don’t know what they have and we want it back before they cause irreparable damage to families, to towns, and to that which matters to us.”

  Micah paused to get her breath.

  “They’re here to take!” someone shouted. Micah couldn’t see who it was, but others hushed him.

  Gailey stood up. “QUIET!” she bellowed against the murmurs. “You’ve all seen their ship. Look at her!” Gailey pointed. Instantly, Micah was self-conscious.

  “Yes, look at me,” Micah replied softly, walking forward so she could be closer to the group. She wanted them to see the determination in her eyes. “We don’t need anything from you except information. Dunk’s Town, is it? Are they causing you problems? I think they’re the ones who are causing us problems. I want your help to take us there. In exchange, we have an Aurochs herd en route, intelligent creatures that will help fertilize your crops. Rabbits can help you with your fields, but all of these creatures are equals. They look different, but don’t we all?”

  The murmurs started afresh. “Shut it!” Gailey yelled again. “What’s wrong with you? We need help or our kids will be the last generation.”

  Is it that dire? Micah wondered.

  “We can provide a guide to show you how to get to Dunk’s Town. After that, you’re on your own. We’ll accept the Aurochs’ help and the Rabbits’, but it’s still our town, for humans, run by humans,” Windsmede stated, emphasizing her final points by pounding her fist on the table.

  Micah smiled slowly and said two words. “No deal.” She turned and walked out. Strider followed and Fea ran ahead.

  ‘I can’t get out of here fast enough. We shouldn’t help this town or those people.’

  ‘I’m inclined to agree, Fea. We’ll see if Bronwyn and the Aurochs can make them change their ways.’

  Someone started pounding up the stairs after them. Micah took the stairs two at a time until she reached the next landing. She pulled her blaster and dialed it to a narrow beam, took a knee, aimed down the stairs, and waited.

  Micah pulled up when Gailey ran into view. The old woman huffed and puffed, holding her hand over her heart as she fell back against the railing.

  “Dammit, Gailey! I thought the mob was unleashed on me.” Micah holstered her pistol while rushing down the stairs to help the old woman.

  “It’s worse than any of those old fools will admit. If we can breathe new life into our farms, then Southport can thrive once again. The majority down there don’t agree with Windsmede.” Gailey stabbed an angry thumb over her shoulder as she continued to wheeze.

  “I guess we’ll continue what we’re doing. Bronwyn would be pretty angry if we told her to turn around. You don’t want to make her angry or the Aurochs that travel with her. Or the Hawkoid.”

  “Hawkoid?”

  “Yes, a Hawkoid. A big, intelligent bird. If you have a rabbit problem in your fields? She’ll take care of that in no time.”

  Micah offered Gailey her arm to help the old woman the last couple flights of stairs.

  “Would you have shot me with that thing?” Gailey asked, nodding toward the blaster at Micah’s hip.

  “Yes. If you were leading a mob after me or Gray Strider or any of us, yes.”

  “At least I know where you stand.”

  “And you know for a fact that I did not shoot you, because we talk first. My partner in life taught me that. There was a time when I didn’t believe it. Judge first, deal with the damage later, but not anymore.”

  “I’m selfishly happy that you’ve changed your ways.” Gailey patted Micah’s arm. Strider opened the door and held it as the two women walked into the sunshine.

  “We are going to press forward, head east toward Dunk’s Town. I know Braden and his group are closing on it from the north. We don’t need Southport’s help at all. I have a good map that will show me the way. I only wanted to give them something to trade so they would accept our help. Do you know what we really want? We want friends to our south, not enemies.”

  Gailey leaned back and put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell them that? It makes more sense than trading. Who does that?”

  “We do. We believe in free trade first. That has been Braden’s whole life. He gets so excited talking about it. I get excited watching him, but I can’t convey the same message.”

  “But you can,” Gailey replied with a motherly smile. “I can’t wait to meet this Braden of yours. I’ll keep working on the group down there, and you go do what you have to do.”

  Micah smiled and the two hugged. Gailey disappeared through the door on her way back down into the bowels of the planet.

  “As soon as Bronwyn gets here, we’re heading inland, cut off the raiders’ retreat.” Micah kicked at the ground as the anger swelled within. “And punish them for coming after
your people.”

  ‘Our people. Aren’t we better for coming down here? Southport needs our help and now, they’re going to get it.’

  “Sometimes, I need to put on my President’s hat more often, but I still feel the need to punch people in the face because that’s the only thing they understand.”

  ‘But not these people. I think that they’ll become friends, join the trade route, and start growing. Some of their leatherwork is the best I’ve seen,’ Strider offered while they walked toward the harbor.

  “And their fishing nets. They’re better than what my dad is using. We need their help, more than I was able to say.”

  The Spaceship Traveler

  Zeller walked to one side before correcting herself and angling back. Tom and Neeson were doing the same.

  ‘I hate this place.’ Neeson scowled. ‘There’s nothing alive.’

  Tom worked on his gait until he could maintain a straight line. “I think I have the hang of it!” Zeller looked over her shoulder at him, staggered left, and bounced off an enclosed piece of machinery.

  “Then you lead.” She handed him the paper as he walked past. She waited until Neeson was in front of her. She realized that they were acclimating to the ship’s spin. The smell was far different from anything she was used to. There was no smell of an Aurochs, something that had been a constant in her adult life.

  She felt for her sword, at her side as it always was. She practiced every day against opponents she carried within her mind. Zeller held the hilt tightly as she watched Tom walk confidently forward. Neeson grumbled, but followed with his limping hitch.

  The comm device in her pocket buzzed and kept buzzing. She took it out and looked at it. She hadn’t listened to the briefing and couldn’t figure out how to use it.

  “Tom?”

  He stopped before he turned, to avoid falling over. She handed the device to him. He pressed the single button on the front.