Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance)

by Veronica Scott

  Nate bent to shout through the opening. “How rough is the climb to the beach?”

  “Not bad. There are a lot of vaiya vines growing from above.” The answer was muffled by the door and the breeze.

  “Vaiya?” Nate asked Celixia, raising his eyebrows.

  “A tough, insidious plant growing wild. It spreads by sending out self-rooting runners.”

  “No time for botany lessons here,” Thom said, impatience making his voice gruff. “Will it hold a man’s weight?”

  “Oh yes.” She nodded confidently. “The roots go deep.”

  Satisfied, Nate yelled instructions to Atletl. “Celixia’s coming through next. As soon as she’s through, the two of you start down the cliff. Once you hit the beach, run like you’ve got Huitlani himself chasing you. Take your bearing to the left, away from the city. Celixia, come on.” Nate held out his hand imperiously, and she stepped forward with reluctance, crying as she eyed the perilously suspended door.

  “I’m afraid it’ll fall on me.” She gave Nate a piteous look, fear and apology mixed on her face. “I’ll go last. Give me time to conquer my fear.”

  “Close your eyes, and we’ll slide you through to Atletl. It’ll take one second, the blink of an eye. It isn’t going to close on you, I swear. Atletl won’t let you fall either, once you’re safely outside with him.” Nate summoned all his dwindling reserves of patience for the panicked girl. “We’ll make this quick. Thom and I aren’t going before you and Bithia.”

  She swallowed hard and closed her eyes as commanded. Nate gestured to Thom and together they picked her up. He could feel her trembling as they slid her across the threshold of the tunnel. Atletl began pulling at her shoulders immediately.

  “We go!” he yelled a moment later.

  “Bithia, now,” Nate said, extending his hand. “Wait for me on the ledge, and I’ll help you down, but I want you out of here.”

  She kissed him on the cheek before going to her knees on the floor and wriggling carefully under the impending doom of the massive door. Her dirty and scratched feet cleared the threshold a second later. “All clear,” she said. “Hurry, both of you.”

  “Thom, you next.”

  “Nate—”

  “That’s an order, Sergeant Curran. My turn to guard the rear.”

  Thom saluted and made his perilous but rapid journey out of the tunnel.

  Nerves on edge as another small quake rattled through the tunnel, Nate wasted no time following his friend. He could hear the door straining above him, ratcheting an inch or two lower as he wriggled through, the sound raising his adrenaline. Bithia and Thom yanked him clear and steadied him while he found good footing on the narrow ledge outside. There was no sign of Atletl and Celixia.

  Nate leaned over the edge, calculating the least-challenging descent. “Ever done any climbing?” he asked Bithia.

  “Not a mountain climber, remember?” She shook her head, her face pale, loose strands of her hair whipping in the sea breeze. Her lavender eyes were huge in her face. She had one hand clenched on the exterior rim of the tunnel doorframe, her knuckles white.

  “Thom, help me get her on my back. Lock your arms around my neck, your legs around my waist, and I’ll carry you.”

  She didn’t question his ability to accomplish the feat, nor did she hesitate as Thom boosted her into position. She clasped her arms on his shoulders as ordered, trying not to choke him. Nate waited until she’d locked her legs firmly at his waist, and then he took a careful step away from the door, assessing the effect of her added weight on his balance.

  “If the height bothers you, don’t look.” Taking the thick vine Thom handed him, tugging on it violently to test its strength, Nate began a controlled but recklessly fast descent down the cliff. The sergeant paralleled their route, trying to go a little faster than Nate, watchful and ready to make a grab for them if Nate lost his footing, or if the vine gave way under their weight. Fortunately it wasn’t a steep cliff, and the vaiya vines were not only abundant, the ropelike strands were as stout as Celixia had described.

  Nate hit the beach, sliding the last yard in a landslide of pebbles and debris. Bithia slid off his body to the sand, landing ungracefully on her rear. Each man grabbed one of her slender hands, pulling her to her feet.

  “Run for your life,” Nate said, keeping his grip on her hand.

  He took off, Thom and Bithia matching him stride for stride. Dimly, he made out Atletl in the slight early evening fog, carrying Celixia. Either her strength or her resolve must have finally given out. Bithia took a second to ruthlessly hike her lavender gown above her knees, tearing the delicate side seams in the process. She proved to be a fleet runner, her long legs flashing, keeping pace with Nate effortlessly as they fled.

  Suddenly, a gigantic quake struck, its rolling motion throwing them to the somewhat forgiving surface of the damp beach.

  A second sun, a blindingly blue one, rose inland over the city, or where the city had been. Nate fought the rolling motion of the ground to drag himself to Bithia. It was impossible to stand, a challenge to crawl, because the earth was shaking so violently. He threw himself over her, trying to shield her from whatever came next. Thom burrowed into the beach next to them, head buried in his arms.

  A peculiarly small explosion sounded an odd note in the midst of the general chaos and uproar.

  Despite the risk, Nate instinctively raised his head to see the massive door of the tunnel blasted off its tracks and out to sea. Right after it came a gush of pure blue fire blowing over the ocean like a blowtorch. He tried to flatten himself and Bithia even more securely into the beach as a roaring wind rose from nowhere and tore at them. The sound was incredible, a force unto itself, the sand particles stinging as the wind drove them. How long this lasted, he couldn’t say. Eventually, the wind became a breeze and died away. All was quiet and serene again. One last quiver of the ground under him, and then it was still.

  Nate realized he could hear the waves rolling in as the tide rose. He rolled into a sitting position, pulling at Bithia’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  She nodded a bit shakily and smoothed her hair away from her face, then reached to touch a bad scratch near his temple. “You?”

  “I’m fine now.” He bent to kiss her.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Thom said, “but I think Atletl is trying to get our attention.”

  “You okay?” Nate assessed his sergeant.

  “Nice of you to ask—better late than never. I’m in one piece. Seven hells, did you see the tunnel torch? We barely got out of there in time.”

  “Not a moment to spare,” Nate said as Bithia nodded.

  Leaning on each other for support, the three of them got to their feet and started toward Atletl and Celixia.

  Thom squinted out to sea. “Any danger of a tsunami, you think?”

  “I hope not. The epicenter of the quake was pretty far inland. And shallow.”

  “I see a hut or dwelling of some sort,” Atletl called as Nate came nearer. “I think it’s deserted. We need a place to rest and shelter for the night, Captain. The priestess has a brave spirit but cannot go any farther.”

  As he walked over to the pair, Nate studied Celixia’s drawn face and staring eyes, testimony to her exhausted condition. Bithia’s holding up better than she is. He nodded. “I don’t think any of us can go farther. Been a long, rough day, all right. Let’s check this place out.” He drew his alien weapon.

  It took only a few moments to assure himself the small hut was empty, apparently abandoned for some time. Set well back from the high-tide line, the one-room cottage was sturdily constructed of tightly woven, dried plant material. A front porch showed evidence of serving as a kitchen in the past.

  Holstering his weapon, Nate’s gave a crisp assessment of priorities. “We have shelter for the night. Now we need fresh water, driftwood for a fire and something to cook. None of us are going to get much farther without eating. Water’s a must.”

  “We need to do somethi
ng about treating the cuts and bruises from climbing through the rockfall in the tunnel,” Thom said. “We find water, I can at least clean the abrasions.”

  “There’s a shelf stacked with sealed jars in the rear of the hut and a pile of finely woven blankets. Trade goods maybe. Too many for whoever could have lived here in this small place. Probably made their living fishing and crafting the blankets in the winter, when the ocean was too wild for lines. Evidently, whoever left this place did so in a hurry, abandoning their merchandise.” Atletl’s report was thorough.

  “Or died perhaps.” Celixia’s verdict was grim. “There’s an unfinished blanket on the floor by a chair, as if it was dropped in a hurry.” She sank onto the edge of the wooden porch and rested her head on her knees, the thin braids falling loose about her hunched shoulders.

  “Celixia, can you check out those sealed jars for us? You’re more likely to recognize the contents, if by some miracle there’s food or ingredients for anything vaguely edible.” Nate squatted in front of her, his voice low and sympathetic as he tried to coax her into motion. “I know you’re tired, but please do this one thing, and then we’ll fix you a bed from the blankets, okay?” He tucked the braids behind her ears gently.

  “I want to do my share,” she said, her voice hardly even a whisper. “But I’m so exhausted.” Turning her head on her knees to locate Atletl standing off to the side, she held out one hand in appeal. “Help me to my feet, and I’ll go examine these mysterious jars.”

  The warrior grinned and came to lift her in one easy move. He carried her as the couple disappeared into the hut.

  Nate moved on to the next set of orders. “Bithia, you and Thom are on driftwood duty. Stick together. Don’t go too far along the beach, okay? I’m going to scout the general area, make sure we have the place to ourselves, see if I can locate a source of fresh water.”

  “Take this,” Atletl said, reappearing on cue from the hut’s interior and holding out two empty waterskins.

  Nate looped the straps over his shoulder and moved into the scrubby dunes behind the hut.

  Thom and Bithia had an easy time locating plenty of driftwood and soon had a fire blazing in the stone fire pit at the west end of the front porch. The sergeant used the trusty, age-old method of rubbing two sticks together to get the first spark after first teasing Bithia about the fact her magic bracelet could do so many things but was useless for a simple thing like starting a fire.

  “Do you know how long it’s been since my people needed open flame for anything? Your race must be far closer to the origin point of your species than mine.” She was trying to tease him and was reassured by Thom’s nod. He was Nate’s best friend, nearly a brother, but a stranger to her. All she knew of him was what Nate had shared in their dreams together.

  Thom fed the fire, but kept one piece of the driftwood aside, hefting it thoughtfully. Bithia followed his line of sight and found he was eyeing a flock of large, long-legged birds daintily feasting on small fish or other sea creatures in the shallows a few dozen yards away. The black-and-white-striped fishers had wickedly long, ivory-colored beaks, but hadn’t shown any fear while she and Thom gathered driftwood. Nor had the birds made any threatening moves, even when he’d gotten close to a pair of juveniles straying from the main flock.

  “The birds might be good eating, you think?” he asked. “Big enough to carry meat on those bones.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “I’ve no idea. My people aren’t accustomed to eating the flesh of other living creatures, although we have done so, at local feasts on this planet, for example.” Biting her lip, she didn’t say anything else. I have to stop lecturing them about my civilization, which may not even exist anymore. I’ve got to fit into this world now. Reality threatened to crash in on her, and her heart rate accelerated as her chest grew tight with anxiety. Instinctively, she reached for Nate with her mind and was reassured to find him still linked with her. She didn’t try to talk to him, not knowing what he was doing at the moment, wary of distracting him, but sensing the warmth of their bond in her mind helped to calm her nerves.

  “I’m going to go try my luck. Haven’t hunted game since I was a boy, but something about the stomach being empty enough for the belly button to touch the backbone inspires a man to resurrect old skills.” Thom eyed the piece of driftwood again, pulling out a belt knife. “Took this from the soldier whose uniform I’m wearing. This might make a good throwing stick, with judicious carving here and there. Well, guess I’ll go find out in case Celixia doesn’t come across anything edible in those dusty old jars. Keep the fire going, will you, ma’am?”

  “Of course.” She selected a small stick and placed it on the flames.

  Thom gave her a salute and set off to hunt.

  Pleased to have a moment to herself, Bithia leaned against the boulder behind her and stretched. The small luxury of being able to move freely after all those centuries of paralysis was intoxicating. Occasionally, a muscle or nerve cluster would refuse to do what she wanted, probably a residual effect of being held captive by the healer. She hoped the fleeting weakness would diminish over time. Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea air, she pondered the uncertain future. If she could get off Talonque and find the way to Nate’s Sectors with him, she’d be fine. She was a member of a high tech society, after all. Surely she could fit in among his people. If she was doomed to remain on the planet, she had unwavering confidence in Nate to carve out a place for them to live. It wouldn’t be anything like the life she’d dreamed of, so long ago now, but there would be Nate.

  Ironic to find a companion soul where she’d never expected it, much less a man who was a warrior through and through. Bithia poked the fire a bit, reflecting on the men of her own society she’d been attracted to before. Nothing like Nate. She tried to imagine any of them enduring what he’d surmounted on Talonque, including convincing her to overcome her fears and grief and step into the world again at his side. Visualizing her favorite mental picture of Nate, the time they’d met in the dreamspace and spoken of songs and emotions, she felt herself smiling and relaxing.

  When Nate retraced his path across the dunes in the darkening twilight, he found a satisfactorily domestic scene with two large plucked and dressed fowl being roasted on a spit across the fire pit. Thom tended the blaze, keeping it the right height to roast, not just sear, the birds. He was munching determinedly on dried fruit.

  “Found this in one of the sealed jars,” he said, holding up a handful.

  Bithia sat, keeping Thom company, snacking on the stringy preserved fruit. She was amusing herself by making a fan with long lustrous feathers and a strip of cloth torn from her badly fraying gown. “See all these tiny, annoying red bugs? I think the cooking smell, or the dripping grease, attracts them. I hoped a fan might help keep the insects away.” She smiled a bit ruefully. “High-tech as the gilintrae is, it can’t repel a determined bug. The insects always win, don’t they?”

  “On every planet, universal law of nature. You made a lot of progress,” Nate said as he unslung two bulging, dripping waterskins. “Nice clean spring water. Plenty more where this came from. In the morning I’ll play guide to the pond, and the rest of you can take a dip, wash off some of the grime. I’m a new man, let me tell you.”

  “Any trouble?” Thom moved to make room for Nate to sit between him and Bithia. He took a water sack and offered it to Bithia first, then indulged in a long drink himself, belching contentedly. “Sorry. I needed something to wash down the fruit. I swear the cook preserved the seeds, the skin and the stem along with the good parts, and it all congealed to the density of a pebble.” Moving a few feet away from the fire, he poured water over his head, vigorously rubbing his red hair and face to remove some of the accumulated grime and sweat.

  “No trouble, no neighbors.” Nate’s report was succinct. He finished his own long drink. “There are flickering lights off in the distance, torches maybe, by the headland. Might be a fishing village. At least three miles. Mm, smells go
od. When do you figure it’ll be done?” Nate reluctantly took a handful of the dried fruit Bithia offered him. The idea of roasted poultry was infinitely more inviting. His stomach growled.

  “Couple hours. Have to get it thoroughly cooked to kill any parasites. There’s dried fishmeal in the hut, but it’s too salty. Maybe with the water you brought we can make soup to hold us off until the main course is done.” Thom rotated the spit. “These birds are so fat they’re self-basting. Should taste good.”

  “Where’s Celixia? And Atletl?”

  Thom jerked his head to indicate the hut. “She was totally worn out. Atletl said he’d sit with her since she was afraid to be left alone. Or so she said. Ask me, we have hot mutual attraction brewing there. Can’t keep their hands off each other.”

  “Can’t say I’m too surprised, the way those two have been eyeing each other since we first got to the city and met her. Aren’t you tired?” Nate asked, studying Bithia warily.

  She was his focus. Much as he’d grown to like Atletl and Celixia, the local couple could take care of themselves tonight. His primary worry was Bithia, her continuing good health, her mental state—in short, everything. She’d had to cope with so much since escaping the healing chamber, and Nate was expecting some knd of delayed reaction. He’d hated leaving her even for the short time required to carry out the necessary recon of the surrounding territory and to find water, but he’d known Thom would watch over her.

  “I’m not too tired.” She pulled the creamy white, fringed blanket she’d apparently taken from the hut more closely around her and leaned into Nate’s embrace. After a moment, she made a little face of self-mockery. “Well, that’s not strictly true. I’m afraid to let myself fall asleep ever again.”

  “Understandable after all those centuries of enforced sleep. Don’t push it,” he said. “When your body figures out you need to rest on your own now, you’ll drowse off, I’m sure. Sit with me and enjoy the peace and quiet. We’ve earned a break for at least one night, although Thom and I’ll stand watch. I’ll be right here if you need me.”