by F. E. Arliss
“Oh holy shit! They can’t believe he had anything to do with that!” Daer exploded. “He was wounded in the escape trying to keep the prisoner in the containment field! Where is he now?”
“My information says that Digger Cole has been detained on Asteroid 5 at the prison complex there. He is bound for the mines at Gem 11 as his sentence for ‘aiding and abetting the escape of a felon’, according to the prison roster,” added Blue, the android's voice actually sounded apologetic to Daer.
Crumpling in on herself, Daer began to weep. “What the fuck is wrong with people?” she wailed. “Why are they all so lazy and unwilling to do the right thing? Digger didn’t do anything. I know it! That idiot Shawn Lawrence was on that transport too. I wouldn’t put it past that jerk to add to the chaos once it started. He hated Digger and the Intergalactic Guard,” Daer added in a grieved tone. “It wasn’t anything Digger did,” she whispered wearily.
“Moira, why don’t you see Daer to her quarters on Clyde. You will be able to keep an eye on her there, while we look for more information about all of this,” Sasha said firmly.
Daer slumped onto the tiny bunk in her maintenance closet quarters. It no longer felt small, just safe. The Universe was a crazy place. It didn’t bear thinking about for a bit, she thought, closing her eyes wearily. A tiny tap on the door had her sitting up slowly and beginning to take the one step needed to open the door. It turned out to be an unnecessary effort. Dermott Quirke simply walked through the wall.
“How ya holdin’ up, girl?” the wizened ghost asked. “Moira says they’ve fitted young Cole up for the whole thing and blamed it on his love for you. Sounds like you’re a renegade now. I reckon you’ve got one or two options ‘bout this whole shenanigan,” he added with a grim smile. “You can try to fight the entire weight of a system that’s rollin’ downhill at speed, with you at the center. Or you can just leave ‘em to it and get yer man out of the clink on Gem 11. He’ll be there shortly and I reckon the berg’s been breached once. We can most likely do it again. Especially if we’ve got the help of Queen Altum Juls from the Alliance,” he continued slowly. “You ponder on that a bit, girl. Then let me know.” With that he simply walked through the wall again and was gone.
Daer heaved herself back onto her bunk, threw one arm over her eyes and tried not to think about going rogue, ghosts, governments, or gaols.
Chapter Seventeen
Osmirian Audience
When Daer rolled out of her bunk a few hours later, the quiet time to reflect had certainly helped. She realized that this whole situation smacked of her prior life’s patterns. The Intergalactic Guard wanted to make her and Digger scapegoats and the people who were supposed to have her back, namely the mining company, had left her out to dry. Daer wasn’t going to let that sort of thing happen to her again. She was the woman who owned her destiny and nothing was going to stop her from grasping it. Not her ex-husband, her inlaws, her own parents, her lousy excuse for an employer, or a government bent on keeping hysteria down.
Donning her armor and loading up with weapons, Daer stood in the corridor of the Clyde and yelled, “Sir, I’ve come to a decision.”
Within seconds Dermott Quirke materialized at her side. “I can tell, girl!” he said with a grin. “Got the wind up yer sails, do ya?”
“Yes! I want to break Digger out of Gem 11 and I want to join the Alliance. Once he’s freed he can decide for himself what he wants to do. Me, I’ve got no loyalty to these jerks,” Daer stated firmly, looking the old man in the eyes.
“Good fer you, girl! Good fer you!” the Commander said, smiling broadly. “Let’s see if we can’t arrange a meeting for you with the head of all this,” he waved a slightly transparent hand to indicate Renegar and the nebulous ‘Alliance’. Then was gone.
Daer stalked purposefully out to the plateau and made her way to breakfast near the fountain inside the cavern. Jeffrey leaped out from the pool and patted himself dry, then climbed nimbly into her lap while she slurped her tea in appreciation.
“You seem resolved this morning,” the little frog stated affectionately patting the side of her face with one raised, slightly gummy, three-fingered hand.
“Yeah! Yeah I am!” Daer pronounced with a certain venom. “I’m sick of being mistreated and taken as a chump,” she added, looking down into Jeffrey’s big round eyes. “You know what I mean?”
“I do! I do!” He chortled. “People used to misuse me all the time. It’s why I’m here. I get a fair wage and am treated with respect and love. It’s such a better life.” the little frog state firmly. “So I know exactly what you mean.”
“I’m sorry you ever had to put up with that,” Daer told him, rubbing her chin gently against the top of his head. His skin was ridiculously soft. Like a baby’s skin. She really did enjoy holding the small frogman.
“I guess you’re going to be meeting the big cheese, then, huh?” Jeffrey chuckled. “She’s a bit scary you know,” he added, looking up at Daer. “She makes the tiny little cillae on my skin stand up and it’s a very disconcerting sensation. I try to stay in the water when she’s near. I believe she is a good person. But it’s hard to say you’re crazy about someone who can crush you with a thought,” he added in a low trill. Daer had come to realize that this was Jeffrey’s way of stating something that he didn’t want others to hear.
“Seriously?” Daer asked. “She can kill us with a thought?”
“Oh, yeah. More than that, she can kill a whole planet full of people with a thought. I’m sure it’s a terrible burden to carry,” he added thoughtfully rubbing his narrow chin. Tapping one bulbous finger on his nose, he continued. “Her son, General Apollo, is a very, very serious man. They’re all very serious, actually,” he burbled slowly. “Having that sort of power is a heavy weight.”
“Wow! No shit!” Daer added, and sat thinking it over for the next few minutes as she absently stuffed a couple of quite delicious pastries into her mouth. “These are really good,” she complimented Jeffrey. “What’s the grain?”
“Millet,” he returned with a delighted bob of his pale head. “Glad you enjoyed them. I am only responsible for the grain. Dolores is responsible for the baking. She’s quite the pastry chef.”
When Sasha Kelty and Moira Quirke approached her after breakfast, they had very serious expressions on their faces. “Dermott tells me that you have chosen to join the Alliance?” Captain Kelty said, a slight lilt to her voice making the statement more of a question.
“Yes. Yes I have,” Daer added firmly. “I don’t like the treatment I’ve received simply because I was an easy target, being dead and all,” she added dryly. “When Digger lands on Gem 11, I’d like to get him away from there. He can decide then what he wants to do with his allegiance. But I’m staying with the people who have treated me well,” she nodded towards Moira Quirke and Jeffrey, and made a short bow towards Captain Kelty. “I’m grateful for your assistance and shelter.”
“You are most welcome,” Sasha returned with a genuinely warm smile. “As you have made your decision, I feel it is time for you to proceed onward and meet some more of our allies. It is these people that will help you remove Digger Cole from the clutches of the Intergalactic Guard and the mining company. You will accompany Princess Arc Exousia Quirke to her home world, meet her father and her nest and make a plan with them to extract Mr. Cole,” Captain Kelty delivered this statement with firm resolve in her voice. “In the meantime, here on Renegar we will be working on finding out the intelligence behind this terrible attack and how we can best find those responsible.”
Daer nodded. “Thank you. I will be happy to accompany the Princess back to her homeworld. I hope that they will find me up to the challenge of aiding the Alliance,” she added. Then grinned and said, “And they, in aiding the release of Digger from the clink, as Commander Quirke calls it!” They all smiled at that.
When Princess Arc dropped by the Clyde to find Daer, she had a hard time fitting through the small entry to Daer’s maint
enance closet. “How do you stand it in here?” the Princess asked, struggling to find space to enter, then simply stopped and stood in the corridor looking in. “Your quarters aboard the Centurion will be quite a bit more comfortable,” she added.
Daer smiled at the tall woman and said, “I’ve sort of come to like maintenance closets. They were the only place on ‘the dump’ that Digger and I could be alone together.” Both women laughed at that.
“We leave in about fifteen minutes,” the Princess said. “I wanted to make sure you had time to say your goodbyes and make sure you felt comfortable. There will be several hundred Idolum warriors aboard the Centurion when our sloop rendezvous with it. I want you to know that they will in no way endanger you or take energy from you without your consent. Most of them are fed by a small group of hippolytes that we carry in a separate cargo hold. It’s quite the poshly-lined little piece of paradise. Synth-grass and full spectrums of natural light, and all that. So no need to fear for your own safety,” she added emphatically.
“I’ll be fine, Princess. Thank you for coming to reassure me. I appreciate it. I’ve already said my goodbyes and the Commander assures me they’ll keep my maintenance closet cleaned,” Daer added with a wink at the vague form of Commander Quirke that hovered in the doorway between them.
“I’m sure he will,” the Princess added, smiling at Dermott Quirke’s form. “We’ll be back in about five weeks,” she informed him. “Keep us apprised of any developments in the investigation of the attack.”
“We will,” the Commander assured them both, then turning, clapped a hand on his son Tate’s etheriel back and both vanished.
“Let’s go break Mr. Cole out of jail,” the Princess said with a grin. Daer followed her out with a slight lilt in her step. It was good to have hope.
It took only a few hours for the small Idolum sloop carrying Daer, General Monsav and Princess Arc Exousia Quirke to be met by the much larger Centurion, a true Idolum nest ship. Both the Princess and the General seemed glad to be back aboard.
Daer was overwhelmed by the difference in craft. The Idolum sloop ship had been the first clue that everything would be vastly different. It had felt spongy under her feet and small green tendril- like vines often slipped down and brushed against her. At first it had felt vaguely threatening, but when one of them patted her gently on the cheek, like Jeffrey had often done, she relaxed and touched one finger lightly against the small vine. It curled itself briefly around her finger then squeezed slightly and released. It was like a tiny mini-hug. Very nice, Daer thought, secretly delighted with the subtle gesture. The Princess smiled at her, having caught the small action in her peripheral vision. “They really are very loving,” she said. “The entire ship is a living organism. The Centurion is much the same, though much larger and even more lush with growth. I love it. I hope you will too.”
Daer did. It had seemed slightly steamy at first and the humidity, not being her greatest love, had started to put her off at her first incursion into the large ship. However, when she entered the quarters she was assigned to and saw one entire wall dripping with blossoms and smelling of heavenly floral aromas, she decided the humidity was really quite pleasant and undoubtedly good for her complexion. The blossoms had seemed to dance at her change of mind and set about swaying gently and embracing her enthusiastically whenever she came within reach.
The two weeks it took the Centurion to reach Valoria -- the Idolum home world they were headed to -- went by in a busy blur. Daer had daily sparring sessions with Princess Arc and one of General Monsav’s officers, an Idolum warrior named Jasa. To say that she learned a whole new typology of moves would have been an understatement. It was an entirely different mindset. Most of the two weeks she seemed to spend flat on the training mat. The Princess told her she was coming along beautifully. Daer just ruefully rubbed her many bruises.
Each day she spent an hour under a helmet-like device learning the Idolum language and history. The thing gave her a miserable headache every time. General Monsav assured her it had done the same for the Princess. Daer, nothing if not stubborn, decided that if the Princess could tolerate the headaches, so could she. Daer had already discovered that the bed in her small, but extremely comfortable quarters, liked to wind around her limbs and that something about that act helped ease the headaches. Usually she was asleep in seconds as the tiny vines crept around her in a gently hugging cradle of care. If this was ‘plant care’ Daer had no idea why she’d never thought horticulture was her bag.
By the time they arrived on Valoria, Daer had a good grasp of the Idolum language and culture. When she saw the rows of warriors lined up to meet her, she was delighted and followed along behind Princess Arc Exousia and the General, greeting them all with interest and testing out her new language skills.
She spent the next two days awaiting the arrival of Queen Altum Juls and helping the warriors prepare for the queenly visit. In the evenings she drank and sang along with the ‘nest’, as an entire community was called, and generally had a great time. Once she’d gotten used to the pale skin, elongated bodies, and rows of jaggedly-terrifying teeth when they smiled, all was smooth sailing.
Queen Altum Juls’ ship, Talio, landed in a small leaward clearing to the side of the fortified structure that housed the nest. From a distance the habitat looked exactly like a giant sideways pea pod. Daer found it slightly endearing. Talio on the other hand, looked anything but sweet. It was all points and weapons, and bristled with armaments.
When the ramp lowered and a bevy of warriors flooded out into defensive positions, Princess Arc Exousia Quirke and General Monsav went forward to meet the Queen and her consort, General Freux. Daer was eager to see this exalted couple. If she’d thought the Princess was tall, the Queen and her General husband, dwarfed her. They had to be eight feet tall if they were an inch. Holy crap!
Well, Daer supposed, if you had to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, it couldn’t hurt to have a very large pair to balance it on. As that thought flew into her mind, the tall Queen turned her long-blonde mane in her direction and smiled at her. “I’m not sure if it helps, but it certainly doesn’t hurt,” flew into Daer’s mind. She gaped at the beautiful queen.
Coming towards her, the gorgeous giantess stuck out an elegantly, elongated hand and said, “I’m glad to meet you, Daer. This is my husband, General Freux,” she added with a wave of one long finger at the amazingly good-looking man following her. When he smiled, Daer could see that his teeth were filed off in a straight line, adding to his Hollywood handsome good looks.
Slightly off balance by this display of unspoken communication and fabulous good looks, Daer reminded herself that Hollywood didn’t exist anymore and that these good looks were probably something like ‘universally gifted’ or some such other politically correct pronouncement.
Both of the giants just smiled at her and gently shook her hand. Thankfully without crushing it. Shaking herself out of her stupor, Daer managed to say, “I’m delighted to meet you, my Queen, and General Freux,” bobbing a slight bow to both. “I hope I can be of some use to the Alliance,” Daer added.
“I’m sure you will be. Very few can wear the Idolum learning helmet for more than a few seconds, and General Monsav tells me you’ve already mastered the Idolum language and a good part of our general history. That’s very impressive,” Queen Altum Juls told her.
General Freux, seeing Daer’s confusion, added, “Ah, I see they haven’t told you that the helmet tests for Idolum compatible DNA. They always leave that part out when putting people under the thing,” he added ruefully. “If it only gives you a headache, you’re a match! If it knocks you unconscious in the first split-second, you’re not!” he added with a grin, displaying his ravishingly heart-stopping smile to full advantage.
The Queen grinned at her, “He is damn good looking isn’t he?”
“Yes, my Queen, he certainly is!” Daer returned with a laugh. “Congratulations!” Both women chortled merrily as the Ge
neral appeared to turn a slightly darker shade of pale. “I’m sorry, Sir, that was fresh of me,” she added to General Freux, still smiling.
He grinned back. “You’d think I’d be used to it after all this time, but she still manages to catch me off guard sometimes,” he added with a devilish wink at his wife.
“Come, let us talk in private, Daer. Hopefully, we can come up with a simple plan to remove Digger Cole from Gem 11. The hard part is more about covering up our presence than it is about successfully ‘removing him from the klink’,” she added, then turned and motioned for Daer to accompany her into the habitat.
Daer couldn’t wait to find out what the plan was and hurried after her. The thought that she was Idolum compatible was pushed easily to the back of her mind.
Chapter Eighteen
Mine Trolls
Digger Cole had been beaten, kicked, spit on, and finally thrown into the bottom-most shaft of the Gem 11 mine that he had formerly secured from threats. Currently, it was threatening him physically and mentally. Rage simmered just below the surface and whenever he had to interact with any of the other miners or guards, he tried to keep as bland a countenance as possible. Reacting only added to their joy in baiting him.
