The Between (Earth Exiles Book 3)

by Mark Harritt

  She tried to clear her mind. When things became too complicated, she liked to come out here to walk and be alone for just a little while. Back on the wall and in the tunnels, there was always somebody there. She just needed a little time alone, to recharge her batteries, and think about the world.

  It was hard to enjoy her surroundings today, though. Her thoughts continually went back to Mike. Their time together had been way too short before he left. Now, she was worried about what she’d heard, about the robots and the grey men. At least here in the compound, with the wall and the mechs, they were somewhat safe. Out there, or, more precisely, up there, in the mountains, Mike and the team were fighting a war. To make things worse, nobody from the team had called in recently. She was worried, and would continue to worry until she heard from Mike again.

  She sighed. This world, with its giant predators, and now, robots and grey men. They had the dragons to contend with, and now, it seemed like they were going to be at perpetual war on this world. She sighed. They just needed a place to go, a place where they could isolate themselves from the predators, and hopefully figure out the future.

  “Hey, El Tee.”

  Jennifer jumped. She wasn’t expecting anybody out here. She peered through the trees and saw Joseph sitting on an old tree trunk lying on the ground.

  “What are you doing out here, Joseph?”

  Joseph smiled. He had a small stick that he was turning over in his hands, “Nothin’ much, just thought I’d come out here and relax for a bit.”

  Jennifer’s tension eased a little. She didn’t relax completely, though. For some reason she couldn’t explain, deep down, she didn’t trust Joseph. There was something about him, a hidden quality that made her uneasy around him.

  On the surface, Joseph was an okay guy. He was very easy to look at. Back on old Earth, he’d had women lined up to go out with him. Still, he wasn’t her type. He was a pretty face with a good body, but there was no depth there. He wasn’t the smartest guy. Not much of a deep thinker, and kind of shallow emotionally. Not a guy that she would ever be interested in. Not that she would have contemplated it back then, because he was enlisted and she had been an officer.

  Joseph stood up slowly, and stretched, showing his physique. He didn’t have his uniform blouse on, just the t-shirt. A lazy smile played on his face, and he walked over to a tree between them, lifting his arms to put his hands on a branch. He leaned forward, smiling. The muscles on his torso strained the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

  Jennifer was suddenly uncomfortable, and she crossed her arms. She suddenly realized that there wasn’t anybody else around, and that they were alone. She had her pistol holstered on her belt, but that didn’t assuage the uneasy feeling she had. Unconsciously, she stepped back a few feet. She saw something change in the demeanor of his expression. His eyes narrowed, and the smile changed slightly, as if a mask had dropped away.

  “Now, El Tee, there’s no reason to be like that,” he said, softly.

  “Like what,” Jennifer asked, challenging him.

  “You don’t look so friendly now,” he answered.

  “I’m not used to being surprised in the woods. There’s rarely anybody out here. I came out here to be alone,” Jennifer put the emphasis on alone.

  Joseph’s voice was still soft and low as he spoke, “Why, Jennifer, that’s just not friendly at all.”

  She didn’t like the way the intimate way he said her name.

  “Joseph, I don’t know what you’re doing, or what you’re thinking, but I’m a married woman.”

  He nodded, “Yeah, I know, to Mike. That’s B.S., though. Can’t get married out here, ain’t no preachers.”

  Jennifer was confused by this statement, but she gained courage when he spoke Mike’s name out loud, “Mike wouldn’t like it if he saw you out here like this with me.”

  A lazy smile played across Joseph’s face, “Like what El Tee? We just out here talkin’. Nothin’ wrong with talkin’, is there?”

  She didn’t like what she saw in his face. The smile didn’t extend to Joseph’s eyes. She was reminded of a snake sizing up prey. She decided it was time to leave, “Joseph, I’m going back to the compound.”

  His arms came down from the branch, and he spread his hands wide in a conciliatory gesture, “Sure, El Tee, no problem. You’re free to do what you want to do.”

  For some reason that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, that phrasing was odd to Jennifer, but she didn’t care as long as she was able to walk away. She stepped back a few more steps, put the bole of a tree between him and her, and then turned to walk away. She listened for the sound of footsteps, but she didn’t hear any. She made a beeline for the clearing, to get out of the woods as quickly as possible.

  Well, she wouldn’t be doing that again. Joseph didn’t openly do or say anything that was threatening, but she wouldn’t be walking by herself out here anymore. She walked out into the sunshine of the open clearing, thinking about what Joseph had just said, wondering why she was so uneasy about it.

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  Om Varee sighed as fingers dug into his shoulders. He reached over and picked up a glass of iced wine. He sipped the liquid and felt the coolness spread down his throat and into his chest. He reached up and slipped his fingers in between those of his masseuse.

  “You are divine,” He whispered to her.

  “Of course I am. That’s why you married me,” Jhani replied.

  “I believe he married you for more than just your skills as a masseuse, Jhani.”

  Om Varee looked over at his first wife, Mara’a. She rose from the dark leather chair she’d been sitting in and walked over. She walked behind Jhani, and then around her, placing one finger on Jhani’s right hand, tracing from the hand, up the arm, across her shoulders, and down the other arm to rest lightly on the hands of Om Varee and Jhani.

  The difference between the two was striking. Mara’a was tall, lean and elegant, her waist length black hair a dark curtain that did nothing to hide her sensual figure. Jhani was shorter, athletic, a compact bundle of muscle and intense energy. Her light brown hair was cut short so that it didn’t interfere with her primary job as Om Varee’s bodyguard. Om Varee felt Jhani shiver as Mara’a’s finger traced its path across her skin.

  Mara’a’s hand dropped as she continued around the chair that Om Varee was sitting in. She walked to a chair opposite his and sat down, every movement transmitting a subtle, erotic energy. The pressure of Jhani’s fingers in the muscle of his shoulders increased as Jhani watched Mara’a walk to the chair and sit down.

  Om Varee enjoyed his wives, loved them, and cherished them. Mara’a had a mind that grasped every intimate nuance of political power, political intrigue and its myriad applications. Jhani was one of the most dangerous people that he’d ever met. He would put her up against any of Lord Caen’s Dinshani assassins. He had been very fortunate that he’d found them early in his life, before he started traveling across the stars.

  Mara’a watched him, waiting. He was enjoying this game too much, though. He closed his eyes, taking pleasure in the sensation of Jhani’s fingers digging into his shoulders. If Mara’a wanted to know, then she would have to ask. Finally, knowing that he wasn’t going to volunteer the information, she decided to interrupt. She sighed languidly, enjoying the role that she played in the trio, letting her libertine ingénue persona linger for a moment more. Then, like a summer storm, her demeanor changed in an instant.

  “So?” she asked.

  Om Varee smiled at his small victory. He rarely had access to information that Mara’a didn’t. His visits to the Dostori Rev was one of those rare instances. That, and the fresh intelligence reports from Lord Caon Rathon.

  He opened his eyes and motioned to the room around him, “Are we alone?”

  Mara’a’s lips curved slightly, “Of course. Our security A.I. is running a bland presentation about what I’m going to wear to dinner tonight.”

 
; That was standard practice. Dostori Rev wasn’t a person that trusted easily. She had her own intelligence operations that watched Om Varee. He understood this, and only allowed the Dostori Rev to see and hear what he wanted her to.

  “She was not happy with the information that I relayed.”

  Mara’a tapped one fingernail against a tooth,” I can well imagine that she wasn’t. I wouldn’t be either, with the news that there are armed thregari primitives on the western continent.”

  Om Varee nodded, “We’ve gotten information that advanced ballistic weapons were used on scene as well.”

  “Advanced?”

  “Yes. The bullets were lead jacketed with a cupronickel alloy. We found these as well.” Om Varee pulled out a brass casing and held it up so that Mara’a could see it, “The writing on the base of this casing is unknown to us. This casing is an alloy of zinc and copper. Chemical explosives were used as the propellant.” He tossed the casing to her.

  She caught it and held it up between two fingers to examine it, “I haven’t seen anything like this before. This comes from a more industrialized, advanced society. There’s no way that the primitives on this world could have made it. Still, it doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen.” She sat the casing down on the table so that it stood with the opening up, “This seems to indicate an advanced industrial race that we haven’t identified.”

  She looked at Om Varee, “I thought we had this spiral fairly well mapped. Where could this have come from?” She tapped the open portion of the brass casing.

  He held up one finger, pointing at the ceiling to emphasize his next statement, “That’s the important question that needs to be answered. There’ve been no star ships traveling into this solar system that we haven’t monitored and tracked. We’ve tracked all freight manifests onto this world, both authorized and illicit. There is no way that these thregari primitives should have access to more than primitive wooden and flint weapons.”

  “And yet, they do.”

  He nodded again, “yes, they do.”

  She stood up and walked as her mind sorted the available information. She pinched her lower lip as she walked. “Mountainous terrain, remote area, little exploration. No industrial base. In fact, the Dostori Rev has placed Cree automatons in areas where there are significant mineral resources. Specifically, to keep the indigenous population from developing any kind of industry.”

  She turned back to Om Varee, “Is it possible that they found the weapons?”

  Om Varee thought about the question. It was very possible. Pockets of technology were often found, remnants of ancient civilizations. Hominid empires waxed and waned in complicated cycles across the galaxy. Technology and society would advance, and then, they often disappeared, a footnote in the complicated history of the galaxy. Sometimes it was societal upheaval or wars. Sometimes there was no explanation at all.

  Currently, this galactic spiral arm didn’t have much in the way of advanced civilizations. On this world, when the Dostori Rev arrived, the primitive hominids were just beginning to understand basic metallurgy and chemistry. She’d used their ignorance against them. Now, the remnants of the hominids on this planet were hunted, soon to be driven into extinction.

  Om Varee steepled his fingers, “That is a possibility. Still, I can’t imagine that they would know how to operate the technology. To these primitives, it would look like magic.”

  She walked over to him, took the iced wine from his hand, took a drink, and handed it back to him, “Trial and error?”

  “They used very effective combat tactics against the Turinzoni. It’s hard to imagine that they could do that without training,” he mused.

  “So we’re back to expertise, equipment, and weapons from off planet, outside this solar system?”

  He spread his hands, “I don’t know. We need more information. In fact, Dostori Rev doesn’t trust the information that the Lord Caon is sending back to us. She wants us to put our own operatives in place.”

  “And?”

  “They’re on the way. I sent them in with a shipment of supplies.”

  She tilted her head, staring at him, “Why do you think that he won’t just send them back. He’s probably aware that you’re going to attempt to insert assets into his operation.”

  “Possibly. I have no doubt he’ll send some back, but he’ll need to utilize others. He won’t have a choice.”

  “Intelligence operatives?”

  “The ones I want him to focus on, yes. The intel operatives that I want him to notice, he will notice. The others, no.”

  She sat back down with a smile on her face, “you’re so crafty.”

  Mara’a looked up at Jhani and crooked a finger for her to come over. Mara’a patted the leather arm of the chair. Jhani walked over, sat on the arm of the chair, and leaned over, her arm around Mara’a’s shoulders. Mara’a leaned into Jhani, and slipped an arm around her waist, “What do you want to do now?”

  Om Varee continued to sip his iced wine, “Well, are you asking for me, or are you asking for you?”

  Mara’a slipped back into her erotic persona, “I think that you know me too well.”

  She stood up, and held her hand out to Jhani. Jhani slipped her hand into Mara’a’s and stood up. They turned from Om Varee and walked into the bedroom. Om Varee watched them walk away, enjoying the view. He finished his wine, stood up, and followed them.

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  Caon Verjon stepped off of the aircraft, pissed off. He’d spent the past three days dealing with the Lord Caon Rathon. His face still smarted from the slaps and punches he’d had to endure. Now, he was pissed off because he couldn’t kill the men that had caused his discomfort. Sub-Caon Mikton and Carthar Jarni Mig were both dead. His only comfort was that Carthar Jarni Mig must have been in great pain before he died. The fact that his throat had been slashed open indicated that he hadn’t been killed in the initial onslaught.

  Scouts were sent in before dawn to see if there was any resistance in the landing zone. The first wave of Turinzoni soldiers had gone in to secure the landing zone shortly after, as the sun was rising. If Verjon had his way, he would have sent in two pods of Cree automatons to soften up the opposition. He’d been overruled by the Lord Caon. The Lord Caon preferred that all the thregari be captured for a longer execution. This, of course, put Caon Verjon and his men at a greater risk. Officers and politicians made the decisions, and the soldiers had to cash the check, usually with their blood and lives.

  The reports had come in with his ground commander’s evaluation of the situation. It wasn’t good. Not even the scouts had been spared. He’d hoped that they would still be alive so that he could get a firsthand report about what had happened. Still, from what his ground commander was telling him, it wasn’t hard to figure out.

  Somehow, the thregari primitives had found out that they were coming and set up an ambush for them. Explosives had been used to destroy Jarni Mig’s men. There had been a large explosion that had been aimed down the axis of travel, effectively killing or wounding most of the men. Then there were indications that secondary explosives were used to kill or disable the rest. A small group had been shot down as they tried to escape. The primitives had gone through the dead and dying to slit their throats before they stripped the bodies.

  Now, Caon Verjon had a mystery to solve. He didn’t like mysteries. Somehow, these primitives had explosives and ballistic weapons. That made them far more dangerous than the others on this planet. He didn’t know how many weapons, how much explosives, or what kind of tactics they used.

  His worry was the capabilities of his men. They were all battle hardened veterans, but they were used to a more urban setting, where they had to worry about line of sight threats from high rise buildings. They were much less capable in the woods.

  “Well, they’ll learn, or they’ll die,” he thought.

  As he got off the aircraft, he was met by a sub-Caon.

  “Caon
Verjon! Sir, if you’ll come with me, I’ll take you to Caon Dagit.”

  He followed the sub-Caon, trying to remember what his name was. As they walked, a security detail fell in around them. Caon Verjon was important, but he didn’t warrant the protection of Dinshani assassins. He didn’t mind. The damn Dinshani worried him when he was around them. He was never sure who they were there to protect, the Lord Caon, or the Dostori Rev. He’d hate to be in the middle if those two disagreed.

  As he walked, he questioned the sub-Caon, “Is this the route that Carthar Jarni Mig took?”

  “Yes sir. His aircraft landed in the same landing zone, and he and his men took this path up to the village.”

  Verjon looked around. He wondered how they hell the primitives knew that Jarni Mig would take this route. There were other ways that they could have traveled, other landing zones. Whoever this was, they had an uncanny ability to understand tactics.

  “Or,” he thought, “They had all of the routes under observation. Once they knew what landing zone was going to be used, then they would know the approximate route that Jarni Mig would have to take.”

  They followed the path for thirty minutes before he saw Caon Dagit, “Dagit, how are you?”

  “I’m well. Better than Jarni Mig,” he replied.

  “Everybody is doing better than Jarni Mig. At least most of his soldiers didn’t suffer.” Verjon waved at the trail, “Where’s the ambush zone?”

  Dagit turned and led the group forward, “It’s right up here. Whoever did this was very good. They let most of the patrol into the kill zone before they initiated. Then they followed up with more explosives. The ambush was finished with bullets and arrows. Then they slit the throats of anybody that was still alive.”

  “I hope that Jarni Mig was the last one to die. I hoped he suffered for a long time before they killed him,” Verjon growled.

  “It’s unknown. We can’t tell from the evidence,” Dagit advised him.