The fact that he had wanted to send Gylastak after his sister weighed heavily on his mind. He had wanted to. Rebecca was his only surviving family member that he was aware of, and she meant a great deal to him. There had been many women on Calafga, and possibly children he had never even been aware of, but Rebecca was all he knew, all he knew for sure.
Gylastak thought about death. There would be much death soon, he reflected.
Chapter 43
Baldwin couldn't understand what idiocy had been going through his mind to have caused him to make such an impossible statement. Only minutes later he was pondering how he still could not believe he had said it.
And yet he had been feeling a lot of guilt since he arrived here. Since he had really been confronted with what he had done sending all of these people here.
Especially now, confronted by the generally upstanding, working people of the Tarovan.
There was undoubtedly much depravity to be found in other parts of Bali. But it wasn't here. Here was a group who, through personal integrity, force of will, and indomitable spirit, would bring change to this world. To their world.
They possessed all of those traits so revered in the human condition. How could Baldwin abandon them?
Why did he feel he owed them?
"I'm not so sure we would want this Reunification." Larita said after some considerable pause. "Why, who would do all the work? Would we have to start supporting all of those on other worlds who are too lazy to do their own work? It sounds horrible!"
Baldwin had to laugh, but Larita did not think it was so funny.
"What?" She demanded.
"It isn't like that. Machines do the work. Human hands could never produce enough to fulfill the needs of the populace. Food is produced in factories. Huge quantities inside small buildings. Everything man needs is produced in these automated factories. In fact, there are few jobs. And most humans are satisfied with what is handed them."
Yet it was that complacency which was stagnating the race. But Baldwin did not know what other solution there could possibly be.
"You don't have that problem here because the population is low. You can subsist on the land around you. There is very little free land left on places like Sarvan. The land is covered by people. It's an entirely different situation.
"Sarvan for instance, has a population of a hundred and forty-two billion people."
Larita was stunned!
And well she should be, Baldwin thought. Very little here on Bali could have prepared her for the reality of a planet like Sarvan.
"One day Bali will be filled as thoroughly." Baldwin said.
"That I cannot believe."
"How many children does an average woman here have?" Baldwin asked.
"Ten or twelve. Sometimes more. Why?"
Baldwin only shrugged. His meaning was clear.
"Here everyone does his part. His share. It will always be so." She insisted.
"It'll be a long time in the future, Larita. Maybe thousands of years, and you will be long gone. But your descendants will be here. It's the same story on every world. It's inevitable."
"It sounds horrible." Larita reiterated.
"But it isn't all bad. It's glorious in so many ways." Baldwin continued. "Anyone with the will to work can get an education, schooling is free, and with an education and drive you can accomplish anything you desire. There are no boundaries which could hold you back. There is so much to see and do and experience. Words cannot even begin to describe it.
"And there are planets which do not provide social welfare. Planetary politics are left to the planetary governments. Those are the richest planets by far, I have to admit, but those planets are also those which ship the most colonists!"
"What are politics? What are richest? I have never heard these words."
Baldwin sighed. How could he even begin to explain money without first explaining the whole entire economic system? Politics was an even larger problem, if he wanted her to truly understand it.
"You got a couple weeks?" Baldwin asked.
"I got all time in the world." Larita said.
"Yes I suppose you do. I suppose you do."
Chapter 44
"I'm what's called a Class A Security Tech." Rebecca said. "Which means I'm an expert in all types of weapons, combat and warfare."
"I wouldn't have guessed." Nago said sarcastically. "But if you're so expert, why did your ship crash?"
"I wasn't running it." Rebecca said, not at all perturbed. "I'm a Security Tech, which means that my job is to guard people. That's what I was doing when you and your merry band began following us."
"The man with you?"
"That's the one."
"A woman guarding a man?"
"Take these bindings off and I will give you a little taste."
"Not just yet, if ever." Nago said. "Tell me more."
"The man I was guarding is a Senator."
Nago had no idea what that meant, but she'd said it as if that explained it all.
Obviously he knew less about the Federation than she had previously thought, Rebecca mused.
"That he's a Senator means that the Federation will greatly reward anyone who helps him." Rebecca said, getting around to her point, but Nago still did not seem to be getting it. "He's the leader of an entire planet! That's what a Senator is!"
He got it now. A calculating look had come to Nago's face. She was sure she would be able to clean him out at the poker table the way he wore what he was thinking so clearly on his face. His men may not have been able to read him, but she was not his men. She kept her own face inscrutable. She knew that in this she had succeeded, where he had not. She had become an expert at hiding her true feelings in times past, when that ability meant life and death. When her thoughts included the plans for vengeance and death, and she had to hide those thoughts from the very men who those plans were meant for.
"And you didn't think to mention this earlier?" Nago said, now quite furious to think he may have let the more important of the two slip away. He wanted to kick her teeth down her throat, but he checked the impulse. If the man really was the ruler of an entire planet, what wouldn't the Outsiders give to get him back! A better question was, what could they give?
"I had thought to escape." Rebecca answered easily, despite that it was plain to see that he was on the verge of assaulting her in his anger
"You don't say!" Nago said sarcastically. "I would never have guessed."
"But if you're willing to help, I'll work with you. We'll get the Senator back. We'll get him back to his people. We'll get you rewarded. The Senator's a fair man, he will want to see you rewarded. There's much he can offer."
"I truly appreciate the information." Nago said. "But why would I need your help? Why would I trust you? You're a murderer. I should kill you, but I won't. If your people want to bargain for you as well, then we'll see what they have to offer. If not, you'll be punished for your crimes." He slid a finger under his chin, from ear to ear, showing her what he meant, and accompanied it with a smile.
"You're making a mistake." Rebecca said.
"The only mistake I made was in sending Naram to catch your Senator." If he screws up, Nago vowed, he would pay with his life. It was now far too late to send anyone else in time to catch them, but he would have to try.
"Watch this woman carefully." Nago instructed Atvar, who he was quite sure would be vigilant. "Do not remove her bindings. She's dangerous."
The look on Atvar's face, as she nodded agreement, said that it would be her pleasure. Nago turned and strode from the house, slamming the door behind him as he left.
Denarl's seemingly unprovoked slaying had people finding things to do elsewhere, other than around Nago's house. Except brutal Zakin. Zakin had never struck Nago as particularly intelligent or ambitious, yet he was now lounging casually near, seemingly in no way cowed or awed by Nago's flash of rage. Nago walked to where he was lounging and stared into his eyes.
"I don't want
any of your weapons." Zakin said.
"What do you want?"
"Naram may never return." Zakin said with an easy smile.
Had everyone already counted Naram out, Nago wondered.
"I made a mistake." Nago said. "We gotta have that man." He didn't explain why.
Nor did Zakin ask. He was definitely smarter than Nago had ever given him credit.
"How many men should I take?"
"I didn't tell you that you would be going." Nago said.
"No." Zakin agreed simply, still lounging against the wall, still smiling an amused smile.
"Take who you need." Nago said. "The man must not be injured. Tell him . . . tell him the Federation has sent you to rescue him. He should be happy enough to come with you then."
"The Federation sent us to rescue him?" Zakin repeated.
"Yes exactly."
"I don't know what . . . ?"
"You don't need to know." Nago interrupted.
"No." Zakin agreed and then he was gone.
Well Nago thought, they would see what they would see, but it was probably too late. If the man ruled an entire planet, he could not be entirely incompetent, could he? Naram was probably dead and the Senator gone from their reach.
They would see what they would see, and Nago had new toys to keep himself occupied, did he not! It had not been a complete waste of time, after all. Not at all.
Chapter 45
The plot had thickened of course. Didn't it always? It would have been too much to hope that they would only have the one group to have to contend with. In fact, Lan thought, it was too much to hope that the number stayed at only two.
The Carter War! Lan thought with amusement. Every Bali Warlord within a hundred kilometers was probably on their way with every warrior they could muster, to what would become the largest blood bath ever known on Bali.
Lan knew that there was a mathematical equation to determine how far from Benefactor's entrance into the atmosphere the sight would've been visible on the ground. If the atmosphere began at a hundred and fifty kilometers, and he was only guessing, he had no idea at all, then computed with the curvature of the planet, and all that shit, one could determine over how many square kilometers the sight would've been visible, and possibly by that guess how many tribes might be on their God damn way to claim their God damned piece of the pie. And on and on.
Useless. Whoever would come would come and there was nothing to be done about it. Except to hurry.
Despite his skill at survival, usually everything he touched went to hell in a hand-basket The situation here didn't appear to be going anywhere but upon that same normal course. More than likely, it would devolve into complete chaos before it got better. If it ever did get better.
This terrain was his specialty, however. If anyone could pull a rabbit from the hat here, it would be he. With a little help from his friends.
With a lot of help from his friends, Lan decided.
"We're gonna have some fun now." Briar said.
"Did I forget to thank you?" Lamar asked. "As I'm sure glad to be here."
"Shut up you idiots." Lan said resignedly. He felt tired and already beaten. His brain did not want to function. A fog seemed to settle upon his thinking processes when he tried to imagine how they were just going to walk into some barbarian Warlord's encampment, and from under the noses of wary warriors, simply snatch away their prize. No, he could not picture that at all. Not if they were anything like the warriors of his own-home world Calafga. Not without slaughtering the whole lot of them. And let's not forget, he mused, that they were now as well armed as we.
The fog meant that he could not imagine a way of doing it. Could not even formulate the most implausible plan. It meant he was stumped.
"I've got a plan." Lan said confidently.
"Why don't I suddenly feel all safe and secure?" Nat Bergen sneered.
"We're not here to soothe your frayed nerves!" Becla snapped at Nat, who was for a moment non-plussed and at a loss for words. Then everyone laughed, except Becla, who had not meant for it to be funny.
"Nat's always been a little rough around the edges, dear." Mike Dobrune said. "You'll just have to excuse him, honey."
"I'm neither your honey, nor your dear. Mind your own business!" Becla said calmly.
"I like a girl who knows what she doesn't like." Tiny told Mike. "And it's you that she doesn't like!"
"Quiet!" Lan said. "We've no time to waste. Captain Reed?" Lan said after keying his communicator.
"Yes Sir?" Came Captain Reed's voice.
"I need the coordinates on that blaster fire we registered." Lan said.
"Coming right up." Reed answered, and less than a minute later, the face of Lan's communicator was blinking a red directional arrow. By holding his wrist so that the face of the device was horizontally level, they now knew exactly which direction they had to travel. Lan led out, and they left the trail behind.
Becla was in uniform step behind him. She was like his shadow. He didn't have to look to know. She was just there. She had his back. It was a good feeling to have.
The day passed interminably. They ran or quick jogged, only slowing when Lan's sense of awareness gave him cause for pause, but it never amounted to anything.
The readout also gave a kilometer to destination designation, then meters to destination, and when they drew to within five hundred meters, Lan held up a hand to signal a halt and for utter quiet.
There were no fools among these men. There was now absolute quiet.
Lan's senses were on alert. There was no explanation for what he knew. He just knew what he knew. There was danger ahead.
They must be extremely cautious. This was no frontal assault. The enemy could not be made aware of their presence. That would be ruinous.
Yet that could be extremely difficult if the natives were anywhere as wary and observant as had been his own brethren on Calafga, who had been almost like wild animals where nothing could escape their vigilance.
Hand signals conveyed his suspicions. The tension of their presence seemed palpable in the air, at least to Lan. He had little doubt that one or both of the forces of which they were aware were involved were just directly ahead.
"Fan out." Lan hand signaled, but waved Becla to hold her position.
An adjustment to his communicator excluded Gylastak from the link and blocked audible communication. He couldn't afford a surprise communication which could alert any enemy close enough to hear. There was no telling how evolved these Balian's sense of hearing may have become. The Prison Planet System was producing all kinds of evolutionary sidetracks, that could apparently take many forms. Of this Lan was acutely aware.
The Team began slowly fanning out, becoming invisible almost immediately. Every member of the Team was an expert at this, but besides Kelly or Lan, they had all learned it in the Corps, and so their skills were probably not on a par with the natives. For that reason, they had to move very slowly and take no chances. There must be no noise. They knew this. They had all fought aliens with senses far superior to humans. But it meant slow progress forward.
Lan had to work on a worst-case scenario. That the natives were far and above their own skill and sensitivity levels. It can only get better from the worst, and Rebecca's life rode in the balance. They moved forward ever so carefully.
The face of Lan's communicator was now a miniature representation of the Team and the Ground Zero designation ahead. Tiny blips represented the Team. An X Ground Zero. As they moved, Lan communicated his orders to his Team through tiny electrical signals that passed from the communicator to the wearer's skin in Corps' battle code.
Though with utter silence, they could all see where the rest of the Team was in relation to themselves, and they could all communicate.
They moved to four hundred meters. Then three. Then two. Within the last hundred meters Lan sensed, rather than perceived, that there were but meters separating them from silent sentinels. Maybe twenty meters. Maybe a little more.<
br />
A signal sent the Team to the ground. Then, like inch worms, they moved along the ground, centimeters at a time. They made no sound. Hours passed and daylight fled.
"Now we'll see." Lan communicated, as the light began failing, but seventeen minutes later, when the sun had vanished like a veil being thrown over the world, Lan's thermal contacts picked up no heat signatures at all. Whoever they had been, they had moved on.
All was not lost however. The night was their friend.
.........................................................................
Gylastak located the native town, slipped past one unaware sentry after another, though that was not to say they were not on alert and their sentries posted deeply into the forest all around the town, and proceeded to reconnoiter the people and layout of the town from the branches of the surrounding forest.
The Senator man was here. Gylastak could pick his scent from among the others as easily as picking a yellow flower from a field of red.
As darkness enveloped the land. Gylastak prepared himself to rescue the Senator. He was not unaware of the combustion weapons. Their alertness. If the sentries in the forest had any premonition of his passing, he had been unaware of it, but did not rely on it as being the norm.
These humans could become aware of him at any time. They would react with skill and violence. Gylastak never underestimated an enemy. That could cost your life.
Gylastak was not afraid of death. He had propagated. His genetic line was secure. But failure meant failing Lan Carter, whom he owed a life.
If death came after success, Gylastak would be well satisfied. He must succeed for Lan Carter, because Lan Carter was his friend, and Molog did not have many friends. Molog were loners. Independent. To have a friend meant very much.
Gylastak didn't have thermal imaging contacts, but he didn't need them. He could see quite adequately in the dark.
It was time to act.
Chapter 46
Duty, Honor or Death the Corps Sticks Page 24
