Tran Wuu whirled to face Adam Roh, his anger threatening to boil over. “This is not going to work, Adam Roh,” he predicted. “You… we have made a huge mistake.”
Smiling wryly, Adam stared him down. “How do you figure?” he asked curiously. “If we had played things your way, we’d be lifeless icy blocks of flesh, floating in space right now.”
One of the three men standing behind Wuu snickered and nodded. “He’s got you there, Tranny.” He raised his right hand and then pressed its palm against his forehead in a salute. “I’m Big Cren Hollis… pleased to meet you Adam Roh.”
“Likewise.”
The huge, muscle bound warrior nodded to his two colleagues. “My friend with the scarred face and thick mustache here is Arte Kasik, and this is Janney Stox. We usually stick together when things get tough and watch each other’s backs. We’ve survived quite a few battles together.” Adam noticed that all of the Crasel, including Tran Wuu, had dark bronze skin with the long black hair that was typical of their race. Everyone except Hollis wore theirs in a ponytail, but the huge man let his fall freely across his shoulders.
“It’s good to meet all of you,” admitted Adam gratefully, returning their salute.
Hollis reached across and gripped him firmly on the forearm. “Thanks for talking us out of the cold.”
“He only postponed our journey into the next world.” Wuu stood firmly in place and glared acidly at Adam. “We’re still just as dead, as soon as they send us into battle.”
“A postponed death is always preferable to an immediate one,” replied Adam bluntly. He smiled at the injured man, gesturing toward Tran Wuu’s bandages. “How is that shoulder feeling by the way?”
Unexpectedly, Wuu’s mood softened a bit. “It hurts when I move the arm, but feels surprisingly better.” He raised an eyebrow with puzzlement. “How the devil did you do that? I was hit by a partially deflected, armor piercing round! The wound was a fatal one, I would have wagered at the time.”
“Suffice it to say there are things going on that you don’t know about,” Adam responded. “I have access to friends with resources who can help us. If you want to live and have the chance to see your families again, follow my lead and do exactly as I say.”
Suspicion suddenly clouded the face of the man called Janney Stox. “What friends? What resources?” he demanded to know. “You’re just a bloke in the poke with the rest of us, for all your big talk.”
The doubtful expressions on the faces of the Crasel told Adam all he needed to know… they would not believe the types of claims he was making without some sort of proof. He sighed inwardly and held up both arms very slowly, pulling his elbows slowly inward and reaching out with the palms of both hands. Two fully invisible, directed energy discharge weapons were strapped, one to each of his inner forearms, and fully controlled using simple thought transmissions from his brain implant. Summoning up a very low level energy pulse with his thoughts, Adam fired just enough of a blast to knock his four friends back a meter or so. Eyes widened in shock at the unexpected force of the unseen blow. Heat from its blast wave blew across their faces.
Kasik’s face paled with obvious fear and he swiftly crossed himself using an unknown religious gesture. “Mott’s Ghost…” he gasped with dismay. “You are a sorcerer.”
“Not a sorcerer, but a warrior with specialized skills and equipment,” Adam replied, correcting him softly while risking a quick glance at the Zaketh still milling about on the other side of the large room. Fortunately, they were busily talking amongst themselves or lying flat on their beds in search of sleep. “You four must help me keep my secret; the fact that I come from a place where many live who want to help. We are going to lead you and all of your people out of the void and back into the light.”
Wuu cast a perplexed look in his direction. “Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” he decided with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. “That’s it.” Seating himself on the flimsy, dirty mattress next to one of the lower racks, he smiled with determination. “Now then, Tran Wuu,” he continued without missing a beat. “Nine kids, you say?”
PROJECT WASTELAND
Pathfinder Series: Book Two
Chapter II: Rise of the Yakiir
Planet Tranquility in the Proteus Galaxy…
Dennis Kaufield followed the thin sidewalk up to the quaint, lightly blue-colored home on the corner of 29th street. Freshly painted white shutters flanked each window, and a small stream of wood smoke wafted from a brick chimney on the roof. Dozens of various types of brightly colored flowers sprouted from the dark, freshly watered flower beds on either side of a small wooden staircase leading up to the front entrance. The house number was 820 – a novelty that forced a small chuckle from Kaufield since the surrounding town didn’t even have a name yet. There were so many decisions to make, after all, when a large segment of a planetary population found itself so suddenly uprooted from its home world and firmly entrenched upon another.
He walked up the steps and rang the doorbell, in no hurry and waiting patiently. There was nothing to hear except for a faint chiming at first, but then the sound of thumping feet grew steadily louder. The door snapped open and a thin, freckly faced ten-year old with a mop of reddish-brown hair peeked curiously around its edge. “Oh hi Denny,” the young man grinned eagerly. “Are you here to see Mom?”
“I am,” admitted Kaufield with a warm smile. He put a friendly hand on the boy’s shoulder and then mussed up his hair. “How are you doing Billy?”
“Fine thanks. We miss Dad but he’ll be back soon, right?”
“Yes he will,” Kaufield stated firmly. “I’d like to try and speak with your mother, if that’s okay.” My God, he thought silently to himself. This kid is barely older than Joseph was when we launched the Pathfinder. What the hell am I doing?
“Sure it is,” said William Roh with a wide, friendly smile. “Why wouldn’t she want to talk to you?”
He considered the psychological friction between himself and Noriana Roh for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “She’s still not talking to me, but I wanted to try again. It’s important that she understand.”
The boy’s smile faded and he glanced down at his new, white sneakers. “She doesn’t like the assignment you sent Dad on, does she?” he asked curiously, dropping his voice to a low whisper. “She told me that.”
“No she most certainly does not,” he replied with a wan smile. “However, your Uncle Thomas and I are keeping careful watch on your father each and every moment that he’s away. I didn’t like sending him off on an assignment for a few weeks, but it was necessary.”
“Because you guys want other people to be free, too, like us?” the boy guessed quite accurately.
“Yes,” nodded Kaufield in affirmation. “There is a situation that is out of control and your father is helping us do something about it.” He glanced past the boy’s shoulder into a neatly furnished living room. “Where is your mother, by the way?”
“She and Cassie are out back by the garden,” noted young William eagerly. “I think they’re weeding this morning, and that usually takes a couple of hours because Mom likes to do it by hand.”
“All right, I’ll look for her there,” said Kaufield. “Keep out of trouble there kid.”
“I always do,” William stated in response. “Well, almost always.” He grinned like a kid his age should grin before closing the door and latching it.
Kaufield fought back yet another wave of internal guilt as he strode purposefully around the wide, grass-covered yard and headed toward the large garden that Nori kept so well-tended out back. He remembered all of the tough decisions that were required in the immediate aftermath of the sudden outbreak of nuclear war on Earth. At the time, each of them had seemed more monumental and important than the last. Now all of them were distant memories, a decade old, and seemed nowhere near as important as his most recent choices. Was this simply because the outcome of his current decisions ha
d yet to be determined? he wondered curiously. Or was it because his recent actions really were the biggest, most important rulings that he had made as both Captain of the Pathfinder and President of the ruling Council?
Rounding the rear corner on the northern side of the medium-sized home, he spotted Nori and her three-year old daughter Cassidy working busily in the middle of the sprawling rows of tomato plants lining the large garden at the rear of the yard. Both of them wore old jeans, brightly colored shirts spotted with garden soil, and wide-brimmed yellow hats to keep the sun off both face and neck. Since the garden was on the eastern side of the home, it absorbed most of the morning and afternoon sun. Even the presence of a large, wooden fence that surrounded the yard on three sides was not enough to defend against the summer heat. Fortunately, although the days were longer, the bright rays from Tranquility’s sun were not nearly as strong as the Earth’s. Granted, the heat grew much more intense as the sun moved southward in the sky during its afternoon journey. And yet the temperature rarely seemed to rise above a temperate 85 degrees Fahrenheit. Long garden hoses and sprinklers were scattered across the yard nonetheless, ready at a moment’s notice to douse the plants with the large amounts of cooling fresh water that all gardens required in order to produce healthy yields.
Nori scowled as soon as she noticed him, lowering her head and immediately returning her attention to the weeds that she was pulling. There were large piles of them on the grass, lying next to a large plastic bag that was already partially filled with her earlier efforts. Kaufield wasn’t certain how to initially approach her without provoking her further, so he simply stood there and waited patiently. She was an adult, after all, and the former commander of the Pathfinder’s fighter squadron. Confrontations were inevitable in life, and putting them off repeatedly was an immature way to deal with them. So she worked for another five minutes or so until she had gathered herself mentally and then hugged her daughter tightly.
“Cassie, would you go in the house for a few minutes?” Nori asked her daughter politely. “Your mother needs to talk to Dennis privately for a few minutes. I’ll come in shortly and we’ll have a glass of lemonade before continuing.” She watched the little girl remove her wide-brimmed hat and smile back at her, with long, dark curls cascading down her shoulders. “Thanks for all of your help.”
“Okay Mommie.” Cassie waved at Kaufield. “Hi Denny. How are you today?”
“I’m doing just fine young lady,” he replied with a disbelieving shake of his head. “You’re growing up so fast, Cassidy Roh,” he told her as she promptly obeyed her mother and ran swiftly toward the home’s rear patio door in a burst of speed. Her dirty, bare little feet left temporary impressions in the long, soft grass as she moved. Kaufield just watched her go, smiling with appreciation at the miraculous gift of human life. Turning toward Nori, he pointed at the garden. “Tomatoes, cucumbers, and a bunch of stuff I don’t recognize,” he stated, trying to remember his long-ago agricultural training. “Flowers of some sort?”
“Most of it,” she said in response. “There are a patch of strawberries in there, but I’m trying to mix some Earth flowers in with other species native to Tranquility. Kind of a botany experiment… my new hobby.”
“It looks good,” decided Kaufield.
“What do you want, Mr. President?” Nori demanded, her tone instantly sharp and more befitting a military officer instead of a warm, caring mother.
He sighed, realizing that she was determined not to make things easier for him. “I want you to understand why the Wasteland initiative is so important to us. I want you to forgive me for making the tough call that sent your husband into a war zone, even if he is as fully protected as our scientists and Noah’s people can possibly make him.” He threw up his hands helplessly. “It’s a lot to ask, I agree. But I have to try.”
Her back was toward him, until she dropped the gardening tool in her right hand and turned to face him. Several curls of her graying hair dangled across her forehead from beneath the hat. “The former request is within the realm of possibility,” she told him bluntly. “The latter, however, hasn’t got a prayer.”
“At this point, I’ll take what I can get,” he replied.
“Who’s watching him right now?” she asked curiously. “Glen was by earlier and told me that he’s been in combat already… injured and nearly blown out an airlock by enemy attackers.”
“Thomas is currently on sentinel duty with an updated implant,” he informed her. “Glen finished off the last eight hours of the night shift. I’m next right after Thomas, and Dr. Simmons rotates in after me. We’re keeping track of him around the clock and will intervene if anything threatens his immediate safety.”
She studied him sternly, obviously unconvinced. “You didn’t intervene when he was almost blown out an airlock,” she snapped heatedly. “At what point, exactly, would you do so?”
“The electrical defensive field that surrounds his body would automatically have snapped fully in place once void was detected,” Kaufield replied pointedly, deciding to hold nothing back. “It emits enough of a breathable atmosphere to keep him alive for several minutes, even in open space. We would have a PTP portal opened in time to return him within sixty seconds of such an action. Even if the ship around him completely exploded, he would still be alive long enough for us to bring him back. When you consider how much of a technological advantage our crew on the Pathfinder already had over these people when we initially encountered them, what we have been able to equip Adam with this time around is truly incredible.”
“I don’t care if you’ve given him the powers of God himself,” declared Nori in response. “You sent my husband into a war zone, and since you’re here now and my interest has finally eclipsed my anger, I would be very grateful if you would simply tell me why.”
“Your husband volunteered to go,” corrected Kaufield, watching her flinch in anger. It was an unpleasant truth that continued to perplex her, mostly because she was stuck in the now. There was no way for her to hash out anything with her husband until he returned… if he returned. It was a burden for the mother of two that shouldn’t have to be borne, considering the large number of qualified people living on Tranquility. “Adam is a very compassionate man. Knowing that all those people are dying each day, knowing that everything has been escalating steadily in recent years… well, let’s just say he considered himself most qualified to go and leave it at that.” He shrugged with puzzlement. “I don’t know why some things happen the way they do – they just seem to emerge out of nowhere before we even realize what is happening.”
“Why would he want to be the one to go?” Adam Roh’s wife wondered out loud. “Why? If the advanced technology of Noah’s people is involved in all of this, why didn’t they risk someone?”
Kaufield studied her expression intently. “When we first landed here, Noah’s people were hesitant to intervene in the affairs of others.” He waved a hand toward the house and then back toward the garden. “You can plainly see by our extremely Earth-like lifestyle here on Tranquility that they are also reluctant to share their advanced knowledge and technology. That was the shape of things for the first four years we lived on this planet, until something major changed.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “There are two reasons why we are involved and why Noah changed his mind on matters we had previously considered to be settled.”
She folded her arms and waited. “I’m listening.”
“First, the war in the Wasteland is accelerating,” he stated purposefully. “Where once there were thousands of different clans, in recent years the number fell to several hundred. Over the last year, one clan called the Yakiir has gained power so rapidly that only a few odd dozen remain. This single clan has somehow managed to discover an advantage that allows it to lay waste to all of its rivals. And they are doing so in a manner that has historically been known to be genocide. Your husband is a very talented individual, and he did not want to stand idly by while the vast majority
of an entire sentient species was annihilated.”
“This is not our business,” objected Nori emphatically, shaking her head with barely contained anger. “We live here after barely finding a way to solve our own problems. We’re still licking our wounds from our own war, one that killed billions. Why would we possibly intervene in somebody else’s war at a time like this?”
There was a long silence as Kaufield held back, unsure how she would react. “Because we caused the escalation,” he told her finally.
“What?” Nori harrumphed loudly and turned away from him. “The Pathfinder was only in the spiral arm of the galaxy where they live for a short time to study the dead stars there,” she reminded him. “We fought one brief battle against one of their ships, and it didn’t have the offensive capability to do much more than try and pull alongside us long enough to land a boarding party. How could any of that possibly be the cause of what you now describe as imminent genocide?”
“I don’t totally know for certain,” said Kaufield truthfully, shrugging his shoulders again. “The evidence, however, is quite damning. Less than a year after we entered that war zone, the Yakiir began their rampage – a violent expansion that is wiping out every clan but theirs. The bloody stalemate that existed in those stars for almost fifty thousand years is gone, and what remains is a single power gaining so much dominance that there isn’t much time left for those who remain.” He paused, remembering. “Noah and I have discussed the situation on many occasions over the past five years. We would have intervened sooner except that doing so would have meant risking too many lives. We wanted to be certain that the people we sent in were properly trained and prepared for the job, and that we could move them out of there if something terrible happened.”
“If I remember correctly, our intrusion was on an exploratory basis and the battle we fought a defensive one,” countered Nori pointedly. “So why the hell does a small band of Earth refugees fleeing their own holocaust bear any responsibility for triggering an escalation in that region of space? I don’t get it… if we are involved at all, it should be Noah’s people taking the risks in this matter while we provide assistance from a secure location.”
The Pathfinder Trilogy Page 42
