by Ann Raina
“I’m not yet finished,” she told Sajitar quietly as she rummaged through the first aid kit. “It might sting, I think.” When she looked she realized that Sajitar had given in to the pain. His mouth was slack and the stick lay beside his face. “Much better,” she mumbled. She had never stitched a wound and was glad that the spray she found sealed the wound with a flexible membrane that would subdue the pain as well as protect it against infection.
Her thoughts returned to the beginning of the operation.
It had been easy to get a search warrant for Sajitar’s apartment. Once the name Sananda Wang had been uttered in conjunction with that unimportant man from an unimportant village, the judge had nodded and signed the document without further questions. Later Rayenne had pondered whether policemen usually went hunting without a judge’s order to legalize their actions. She had not asked her colleagues, but the feeling of being part of an operation that was outside correct police action troubled her.
With four men, they had searched Sajitar’s small apartment in order to find clues about his connection with Wang, illegal substances, or anything that would prove the man’s guilt. In the end, they had upturned furniture, ripped open desks and cupboards and taken off pictures without uncovering any evidence. Rayenne had turned around, hands on her hips, and shaken her head. There had been less personal stuff than expected. Clothes, bathroom equipment and three pairs of shoes, but no pictures of family or lovers, no computer or other electronic hardware, no signs that he had lived there on a regular basis. Rayenne had shared her concern that Sajitar might not have lived there permanently, but her superior had dismissed the argument with a wave of his hand.
Still without evidence, the police had searched Sajitar’s locker at the spaceport, had questioned colleagues about his activities and done a lot to find the suspected escapee. The only facts they had found were that Sajitar Haju loved to stroll around town as well as spend days in the forest. If they had been honest, they would have conceded that there was not the slightest hint at a connection with Sananda Wang except for fingerprints at the spaceport in a forbidden area and the remnants of a substance stamped as illegal.
Still, Rayenne wondered if her colleagues had been too eager to denounce Sajitar Haju as a criminal.
She shook her head.
Her superior had ordered her to take Felberi and find Sajitar, no matter the costs, and bring him to Belson Park. If he is no criminal, he had said, he will make a fine witness. He did not add that pressed hard enough, a man like Sajitar was supposed to say everything the judge wanted to hear, but Rayenne had understood. The police needed success in the fight against Wang’s ongoing operations and she, too, wanted that sly bitch behind bars.
Wang’s legal business concerned shipping and handling of trees from Belthraine. Only by accident, customers on Heligran had found packages with the forbidden substance Barylom in one of them, and had reported it to the local police who had informed their colleagues on Belthraine.
Wang had claimed to know nothing of the illegal export and had won so far. There was no connection confirmable that Wang or one of her employees had personally added the forbidden substance to the trunk. The police officers had returned to HQ empty-handed and with a lot of frustration stowed away for further use. They had begun their work anew, realizing that Wang had been one step ahead, again.
Barylom consisted of the ground bones of a medium-sized insect found in Belthraine’s woods, called Larolydis. Finding it was a game of luck and intensive surveillance because it could change its color and melt into the surroundings in a short time. Scientists assumed the Larolydis lived off the excrements of the Horlyns, but that was never proved. Fact was that if you wanted to catch Larolydis, you had to find a group of Horlyns first. This was, of course, neither an easy undertaking nor a safe one.
From reports, Rayenne had learned that Wang had expanded her business to freelancers who were willing to venture into the different woods on Belthraine to find and bring her Larolydis for a good prize. It was unclear why she had not been caught, yet since the business demanded many men and much equipment. Police officers whispered that she either bribed the police chiefs much better than her own people or she knew how to frighten them into silence.
Rayenne assumed the latter. The number of Sanjongy assassins grew from day to day.
“Are you done?”
Sajitar’s weak voice made her gasp. She looked from her makeshift bandage to his pain-filled face and nodded, relieved. Her smile failed miserably.
“Hey, you’re still alive. Guess for my first surgery, that’s a success.”
“What did you find?” He tried to turn, but stopped, inhaling sharply. “Fuck! Did you cut through to my intestines?”
“No complaints, please. The film of the healing spray is the only thing keeping you from falling apart.”
“Not funny.” He let out his breath slowly, trying to turn his head in order to survey the closed wound. He flinched, but didn’t further comment on her work. “Tell me.”
She used the forceps to show him the empty shell.
“See for yourself.”
“That means I’m a living broadcast tower, and wherever I walk, my enemy knows.” He slumped back on the sleeping bag to cover his face with his arm. He sounded weak. “What will the bullet do?”
“It lost most of its energy on the impact. It’s not like it’ll travel through your body at light speed.”
“That’s funny. Try once more.”
“Maybe it’ll show tomorrow at your ear and I can pull it out. How would I know?”
He glimpsed from under his forearm.
“You’re the surgeon. I want a precise prognosis.”
Rayenne tried to smile while she put together the first aid kit. Her hands started trembling again and she did not like the unease that came like an unbidden comrade.
“I really can’t say. It’s new to me.”
“If it rips me apart from the inside, then—”
“Saji, stop it. I’ve done what I could.”
“And I’m grateful, believe me. Let’s have a drink to your success.”
Though not convinced, she drank with him.
Chapter Four
“This thing’s quite impressive,” Sajitar said when they packed their belongings after Rayenne had collapsed the unusual tent. “I didn’t even hear the rain fall after a while.”
Rayenne evaded his amused glance by checking their surroundings. It had been nice to sleep dry and protected, but the luxury ended when they left the tent. The rain fell light and steady, so she pulled up her collar over the back of her hair and adjusted her hat.
She watched him saddle his B-horse, realizing that he needed help.
“You mean you will share my makeshift tent again, Saji?”
“I dare say that I look forward to sharing that special tent with you, maybe the next time without surgery, okay? It was really warm and cozy after a while.”
“After you thought it wouldn’t work.”
“You changed my mind, believe me.”
Not the words, but the look that went with them, made her blush. She exhaled, wishing she could shield herself. She was used to criminals throwing dirty words at her. She was used to villains who spat at her the moment she had found their hideout. She could have lived with Sajitar sneering at her and telling her that next morning he’d be gone before she woke.
The witness and supposed assistant to the assassination, Sajitar Haju, had done nothing like that. He had lain beside her, content to watch the raindrops until his eyes were heavy with tiredness. One hand stretched out close enough to touch her, he had sighed and drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the day as well as the pain.
Rayenne had not moved and, for a while, tried uselessly to see something outside in the darkness just to divert her thoughts. Then, with the rhythm of the rain as background noise, she had managed to catch some hours of sleep.
Her dreams had been weird, filled with large shadows moving around, bu
t they were like no animals she had ever seen and the images blurred once she tried to concentrate on them. They had talked in chirping voices as if they had met in a gigantic council until a harsh shriek had caused them to turn and flee. Their claws had stamped the ground and the earth shook.
When she woke she found Sajitar mumbling in his sleep and thought of him as the source of her nightmare. She did not dare ask. “How are you feeling?”
Sajitar stood beside his horse, one hand in the mane, the other on the rim of the saddle, half smiling at her question. He lifted his left leg and put it down again, sighing. “If I knew how to get back into the saddle I’d be glad.”
“May I help you?”
“Would it ruin my masculine charisma if I said yes?”
Rayenne approached him, shaking her head with a smile.
“No. After surgery even men are allowed to have a weak day.”
She used the shin of his left leg as a lever to help him mount.
“Just one?” he asked, hardly able to hide the pain of the short exertion. “After being cut up?”
“You exaggerate.”
Rayenne vaulted into the saddle and glanced around one more time, then urged Bunty to a fast walk. Sajitar took a deep breath and followed.
“Have you ever been in this part of Emerald Green?” she took up the conversation again.
They were miles deep into the wood and the rain was their only companion. Whatever beasts roamed this place had taken shelter. She imagined them sitting comfortably and dry in their tree holes and laughing at the strangers passing by. The idea helped her to see the woods’ inhabitants as friends and not foes.
Sajitar scratched his nose. Water dropped from his hair when he shook his head.
“Nope. The woods are much too big to have seen ten percent of them in a lifetime. When I worked for some people who tried to find the right trees, I didn’t venture to this part. I was stationed in the north, you know.”
“You could tell me the sky is blue, Saji, because I can’t disprove it.”
He frowned, and when she kept his stare, shrugged.
“You asked.”
“Let me rephrase it. Do you think you can find a straight way through the woods without taking us too far away from the street?”
“What about you? Aren’t you a pathfinder who traveled a hundred worlds so far?”
Rayenne exhaled, reining her anger. “You read the ads, I understand. My family’s known for their skills, yes. But that doesn’t mean I can walk right through completely unknown territory without something as simple as a compass.”
“Isn’t that something you got in your genes? If I read it correct, your family says you can find anyone in any surrounding faster than any police force in this quadrant.” He shook his head in mock surprise. “My, I’m disappointed.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He pulled the reins and Tessla, woken from her silent reverie, came to an abrupt halt, shaking her head in protest.
“Tell me, Ms Officer, what had you planned if I’d turned out to be a complete idiot when it comes to navigating? Sending smoke signals?”
“That was mean.”
“No, honest. I could have galloped away and left you stranded.”
Rayenne turned Bunty, gritting her teeth.
“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t find a way out. I wanted to know if you can lead us through the woods without getting lost in its center.”
“Lost? Ah, now I get it.” He pointed a finger at her. “Maybe I read the ads, but you heard some lore about the heart of Emerald Green, right? Am I right?” He brought his mare close to the gelding, snickering.
She glared at him.
“You’re afraid that the soil is thicker there, more dangerous. A place where compasses don’t work and the eyes trick you. And that there are animals no one has ever heard or dreamed of.” He nodded, smiling ugly. “And that, maybe, maybe, these beasts would swallow you whole for breakfast and lick their fingers—ah, fangs—after that.”
Rayenne wanted to place a fist in his smug face. He was much too close to the truth. She ground her teeth even tighter, until it hurt. Sajitar was unruffled.
“And that we can’t find a way back because those beasts would cloud our minds. Before or after they ate us, that’s the question, hmm?” Sajitar laughed out loud. “Oh, come on, be reasonable. If it weren’t so funny I’d say the Horlyns made up this story to keep the lumberjacks from getting too bold.”
Rayenne was as irritated as she was angry. Did the officers mock me? “Well, then, who made up the story? You can hear it from here to Belson Park.”
Sajitar shrugged, looking indifferent.
Rayenne caught herself watching his broad shoulders moving and the drops of rain falling from the dark brown strands of hair. The moment she had awakened, she had ever so lightly touched his skin at the temples, not really wanting him to wake up, but driven to feel his warmth. She had swallowed and willingly turned her thoughts to her family and home. That had mellowed her enough to take her hand back and get up, telling herself that she just wanted to make sure he was alive. Sajitar woke only moments later and she was not sure if he had felt her closeness.
“One piece of an adventure leads to another.” Sajitar sniffed and readjusted his butt on the saddle, wincing. “One man tells a story of what he has experienced. The next one adds a piece, then another comes along and tries to justify his anxiety by making up another piece of the story. That piece contains the odd animals and even more dangerous happenings in the center of the woods. Do you want to know my guess? All of these people haven’t gotten very far in such a short time. And if they want to brag, they make up lies. Considering the stories around these woods, it must be more dangerous than flying through space without a space suit!”
“Tell me something, Saji. You left Belson Park one day after the assassination. Why?”
Sajitar flinched at the sudden change of subject. Ray watched him closely as he pondered over an answer and finally came up with
“Let’s say, I had some not so nice encounters before.”
“You didn’t, by accident, get a memo to leave town?”
His glare made her smile.
“I decided to leave before the other side insisted on my departure with more firepower.”
“Now you say that you were forced to leave. When I talked to you back at the village, you made it sound as if you had enough of the city already, like being bored.”
“That hits the truth nicely, doesn’t it? If you have armed muggers at your door twice a day, the city can become really, really boring.”
“Most people run to the police if threatened. You ran away. Why?”
“I’m not most people.”
Ray held his stare. “You made yourself suspicious. You know that.”
“Maybe.”
“You did. And everyone jumped on it.”
He took a deep breath.
“To be honest, I didn’t trust the police to handle these people. And who knows if you can trust the police at all?”
“Yes, I know about the reputation of some officers. Still, how did you know?”
“Memo?” Sajitar smiled broadly when she grimaced. He put some pressure on Tessla’s flanks and the mare fell into a trot. “Come on, Ray, there’s a lot of ground to cover and you don’t want to lose my tracks, do you?”
“Why don’t we go over there, Saji? The path looks much easier. Considering that it’s the first path I’ve seen in these damned woods, anyway.”
Rayenne pulled weeds and sticks out of her hair that she had collected during the ride until early afternoon. If possible, the woods became denser with every half mile they crossed, and she longed for a wide open path that would allow her to sit straight in her saddle and not huddle over the withers all the time to avoid being pushed off. Her back ached and she flinched as she straightened up. Her gelding followed the soft pull and moved toward the open space, snorting happily at the warmth of the sun-splashed p
lace. There was little grass to feed upon and he seemed to smell some fodder on the other side.
“A path?” Sajitar stopped Tessla and turned in the saddle, grimacing at the sharp pain in his side. “There is no path. Wait!” He turned his B-horse one-handed. “Wait! No!”
Rayenne had reached the rim of the sandy ground and smiled at the sun she had not seen for two long days. The sunrays felt wonderful on her face and she willingly ignored Sajitar’s cries as her B-horse moved on.
Suddenly, Bunty’s foreparts sank into the soft ground. He tried to rear and sit on his hind-quarters, shaking his head.
“Get off!” Sajitar shouted.
Rayenne complied quickly, keeping the reins and watching the hooves sink deeper.
“What’s happening?”
“That’s no sand!” Sajitar was beside her to wind a long rope in sling around Bunty’s neck. “Help pull! Quick!”
Rayenne put her heels in the ground for a better stand and pulled. Sajitar urged Tessla backwards. Still, Bunty’s two hooves were embedded in the sand up to the first joint.
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s alive!”
“What?”
“A beast. The whole place…just one single beast!”
“I’ll be damned!” She pulled the harder, imagining Bunty being eaten alive from the hooves up. “Come on, Bunty, get a grip!”
The gelding’s hind muscles tensed as he tried to help himself, whinnying pitifully. Tessla snorted as she retreated to a trunk, where Sajitar wound the rope around to have a steadier position. Together they developed enough strength to pull Bunty free. The gelding’s hooves suddenly popped out of the beast’s tight grip. Rayenne sat on her behind, panting, but happy. From her place she inspected her fidgeting mount, still with the image of her B-horse becoming a monster’s snack. There were runnels in the hard hooves that made her shiver.
