by K. M. Tolan
Ryan waved his cup. “Fine. Do all the Taqurl girls look like you?"
“No, and if you call me a Taqurl one more time, I'll cut the words from your throat.” Mikial found a tree to prop herself against. “I am Dathia Qurl.” She gave him a limited explanation of the four sects, which Ryan seemed to accept easier than she did his being from another world. “Now it's your turn,” Mikial said, folding her arms over a raised knee. “Explain Commander Chasa."
“Glad to. He's what you call a traitor.” Ryan set his cup aside. “Chasa works for Minnera's Protector. The Commander's job was to encourage Maltenna Kior to join the Eastern Union.” He shrugged. “I take it the deal fell through."
“So Chasa wanted to use me to sway her?"
“Probably. Maltenna didn't seem too eager to have people finding out she had a Taqurl daughter."
Mikial's eyes narrowed. “How could you know that?"
Ryan smiled. “Tell me, did you see a little blue vase in the Steward's private quarters?"
Surprised, she nodded.
“That was a gift from Commander Chasa."
“And?” Mikial pressed, having no time for the expectant look on Ryan's face.
He clasped his hands together with a laugh. “And, Mikial, that vase was relaying every conversation in that room to Chasa."
Mikial could feel her impatience rising quickly. “I'll give you two breaths to make sense!"
“We put a listening device in it,” Ryan explained, holding a thumb and forefinger close together. “A very very small one. Chasa had an ear piece to pick up its signals.” He shook his head. “You just can't comprehend what you're up against, can you?"
“I know that you shouldn't have come here!"
“So you're ready to admit I'm from elsewhere?” he pounced, gesturing upwards."
“Elsewhere, yes,” Mikial admitted. Every time Ryan talked in that flat accent of his, she had less room to think reasonably in. “No matter where you came from you have no business here."
“Got a secret for you. I didn't want to come anywhere near Dessa. We were forced here for repairs, thanks to that stuff up there you refer to as the Curtain. Our ship ran through one of those little purple filaments, and it was all we could do to limp to this place.” Ryan thumbed at one of the brown packages. “Open it. It'll answer the next little question I'm sure is on your mind."
She did, and withdrew smaller packets of blue pills.
“Those are, well, you don't have a name for them. Let's just say that they help keep us alive here. You know anything about uncontrolled cell growth? I ask this since you apparently don't have a name for it as we do."
Mikial shook her head. “Do I look like a Shandi?"
“You look like someone's fantasy nightmare, but that's not the point.” Ryan pointed upwards. “This Curtain nebula you're in is throwing out a lot more than light, and some of it isn't healthy for humans. Over time, we'd develop these growths and start dying. Those pills are designed to prevent it from happening. Doesn't make this place the ideal home, now does it? So, we're not here to invade you either. We have our own world to go to, assuming we can get back on course again."
“While you make new weapons for the Minnerans?” Mikial replied with an icy glare, despising the logic he tried to snag her with.
Ryan poured himself another cup of murr. “That's a story in itself. Actually, I've had more freedom as your prisoner then with that lot. I brought our ship down off the northern coast of Minnera, so naturally we made contact with them first. Manwal Kinn was only too willing to help us with materials we needed to repair our engines. On the day we were supposed to leave, he invites us to a big party. He was to sign papers giving our government landing rights. I sent most of the crew out, and why not? He didn't know where our ship was."
Mikial emptied the remnants of the pot into her cup. Fine, she would humor him. “Found it, did he?"
Ryan's grin could have drawn blood. “He threatened to kill all of us if we didn't surrender, and shot my First Officer dead to ensure I got the message.” He saluted the gauzy swirls of the Curtain with obvious disdain as they gradually replaced the daylight. “Great job of first contact all around."
Wishing she knew what parts of his tale to believe, Mikial leaned back against a tree, and tried not to think about the countless implications taking root in his words. What if Ryan's kind find Dessa, and don't quench their revenge with Minnera? What if this is all a wild hoax of some sort? Growling, she folded her arms, settling into a relaxed alertness that would be the nearest thing to sleep she dared afford herself with this prisoner.
Dreams came to Mikial as worrisome images. There was Paleen, the Ipper calling out in vain from her chair at Signal Point. Then, there was Dalen. He had on that intense face, like when he was at the forge. This time the Cothra was heating something else, his hands gently caressing her breasts while he whispered more intimate intentions. Her thoughts reddened with the anticipation of bare skin, his—Mikial bolted awake with a hiss.
Ryan was on his feet and moving! She was on him with a harsh snarl, slamming him down before his startled cry had even begun. Yet, it was her breath that came in gasps, as she fought to keep her claws from ripping the human's throat out. “Your life is not that important to me!"
“I just needed to find a bush!” he gulped as she held him beneath her. “Hey, ouch! You made your point. Do you mind getting off now?"
Mikial released him, keeping Ryan on the verge of her senses as he relieved himself at a discreet distance. How could she have been caught so unaware? Actually falling asleep? And that dream! Remnants of it still clung to her like a hot embrace. What is wrong with me? Mikial looked at the stream beside their camp. It was nice and cool, and she had been in her armor far too long anyway. She glowered at Ryan as he assumed his place across from her. He would be asleep soon enough, which gave her a chance to get clean. To ensure his cooperation, Mikial bound both his hands and legs using his own belt and the backpack straps.
Icy waters soon froze her senses back into place. Mikial washed away the grit of travel. She took advantage of the Curtain's star-laced illumination to find a boulder suitable for cleaning her battle dress. Mikial looked up at the bank where Ryan slept. What if he was from beyond the Curtain? He certainly looked like something from the void, and smelled like it too. Mikial sighed. There had to be other explanations for all this. Let the Cothra or Shandi find it. All she had to do was get him back to them. Which meant getting better transportation than their own feet.
It's time for an evening raid, she decided while donning her armor at the stream edge. Ryan certainly was not about to go anywhere, but two yhas from that nearby village were. Gathering up her helmet, Mikial chose a shallow crossing where the water gurgled over a rocky flat.
The scent of smoldering logs led her to dark patches of tilled soil, bordered by a crosshatch of wooden fencing. Mikial rejoined the stream as it curved into a small settlement. She saw no lights; heard no sounds either. Her hunting eyes picked up few traces of life, and none of it appreciably large. Something is wrong here.
Mikial carefully eased herself through thick foliage along the bank until she paused at the village edge. Ragged purple shadows suggested angled timbers and fire-hollowed buildings. Dull red embers flickered malevolently from tumbled heaps.
Mikial hissed softly as the meager breeze brought a sour corruption to her nostrils. She continued downstream at a crouch. The stench grew to sickening proportions. Suddenly she stared at a female's face, dried lips curled back from dirt-encrusted teeth.
Discipline froze her in place before dead eyes staring from beneath a tangle of blood-matted hair. Shot in the head, Mikial realized, her eyes scanning rapidly over the corpse. Bloated skin shone pale beneath the Curtain, the body's muddy clothes crisscrossed by a stream of foraging insects. The horror quickly compounded as Mikial looked across the widened stream bank. The water was choked from sight by a heaping sprawl of bodies. Some of the figures moved slightly, but only from
the tug of a scavenger's probing teeth. She guessed three hundred or more dead. Smaller stiffened shapes made it clear that even children had not been exempted from the butchery. Remembering what Dahin had said of the ranch slaughters, Mikial inspected the female's corpse for any sign of branding. There was none, but would that matter? When the Kiorannan cavalry discovered this, their rage would only look in one direction, despite Dahin's findings. Her Holding. How could a force large enough to inflict such carnage have gotten by the Datha? By having Ryan fly them there piecemeal, of course.
Mikial slowly made her way along the village outskirts. She observed only two dozen or so wood-and-stone homes around a main square. A gutted meeting hall stood in the center like a broken crown wreathed in rubble. Great holes had been torn out of an entire corner of the building, leaving its bell tower dangerously unsupported. A flickering glow through the haze revealed what appeared to be a campfire at the base of the steps. Mikial's hunting eyes caught slight emanations in that direction. Soldiers. Perhaps preparing to brand the corpses with the insignia of her sect.
Mikial sprinted silently from the choked streambed to take position behind an overturned wagon across from the square. She could see them now, eight soldiers, and they were definitely Minnerans. Kiorannans did not wear helmets unless they had plumes in them.
Four yhas and a wagon stood near the fire. Assorted goods were piled inside. Thieves as well, she surmised. The Minnerans had all the appearance of settling in for the night. No fear of the Kiorannan cavalry? No raid, this. Had she stumbled into the vanguard of an invasion force? What of her Holding, then?
One thing at a time, Mikial reminded herself with a steadying thought. One of her intended victims wore those vests that made a mockery of Datha darts. Not that it mattered, since she had no rifle.
Drawing back to one of the smashed houses, Mikial gave a long moan, as if in anguish. The reaction was instantaneous. Six of the soldiers picked up rifles resembling the clumsy bore loaders the Minnerans usually carried. So you're not all equipped yet, she realized with satisfaction as the soldiers started across the battered courtyard.
Avoiding charred timbers and rock, Mikial sped around the Minnerans in a flanking maneuver, then used the curling smoke from the town hall to mask her approach across the square to the building's shadows. She knelt at the hall steps adjacent to a jumble of broken furniture. The enemies’ backs were to her now.
There were two soldiers left by the fire, and one had on the armored vest. Both were seated in chairs they probably retrieved from the makeshift barricade around the town hall. Mikial guessed them to be officers, judging from the gold epaulets on their khaki uniforms. The armored Minneran also held one of the advanced rifles. Excellent. Mikial unsheathed the knife she had taken from Chasa's corpse and approached her prey with a dancer's efficiency of motion. She drove her blade through the first male's skull, dealing the second one a similar blow before he rose from his seat.
Propping the corpses up against their backpacks, Mikial scooped up the slain officer's rifle and cut the ammunition packs from his belt. She bellied beneath the nearby wagon to her right, pulling back the bolt and sighting it across the campfire. New invention or not, the rifle trigger was simple enough to operate. She did not wait long. The half dozen hunters filed back. They passed taunts to one another about beer-induced hallucinations. Mikial waited until the leader's face was highlighted by the fire.
Her first shot threw back his head in a grisly spray. Her second round killed his companion an instant later. Mikial sent the third soldier to the dirt with two projectiles through his heart.
The remaining Minnerans dropped to the ground with horrified shouts. Mikial kept shooting as they tried to bring their own weapons to bear. Only one soldier managed to answer her fire, his shot tearing wood chips from the cart above her. She never gave him a second chance to hit her.
With the battle over, Mikial collected backpacks from two bodies, and the vest from their leader. The yhas were next. Neither animal complained too loudly as she freed them from the wagon. Fortunately, they were saddled.
* * * *
“Didn't expect to see you back,” Ryan said, as Mikial returned to their camp. “Sounds like you started a war. How many chasing you?"
“None,” she replied, unbinding him. Mikial tossed the vest at his feet. “Put this on. There's something I want you to see. Bring the packs and get mounted."
Ryan prodded his animal into a kneeling position and swung on. He gave her hard look. “So how many people did you have to kill for these?"
Mikial glared at him. “You're concerned about killing people, are you? Take the lead.” She brandished her captured rifle. “Careful. I only need one shot."
“We're just a bundle of threats, aren't we? Hoping an ambush gets me first?"
“It won't,” she promised. She followed him through the tall fronds along the creek. They slowed upon nearing the town square.
“Get shot in the front, or in the back, either way I...” Ryan's voice trailed off. “What's that stink?” He came to a stop. Ryan's next words were in low tones she couldn't understand, his hand performing some sort of crossing motion before him.
Mikial rode up beside him. “Is this the kind of help we can expect from your kind?"
He stared at the bodies. “They could've at least let the children go."
“At the very least,” Mikial echoed. “These were done with weapons your kind made."
“Not willingly!"
“Willingly enough.” She swung her rifle around and pressed the muzzle against Ryan's forehead, disgusted with his refusal to shoulder even part of the blame. “Better a thousand innocents die then one human, is that how your kind measure our worth?"
He gave a deep sigh. “You want this stopped? Get me to my ship. Either that, or shoot me.” Ryan's eyes flashed in the Curtain's luminosity. “Just keep in mind that sooner, rather then later, it will be your own people lying here. The Minnerans have other weapons far worse than rifles."
Mikial considered both his words, and the ruined village. “You seriously expect me to take you to your ship?"
“Then use that rifle! You can drag my body back, for all the good it will do you.” Ryan looked dangerously ready to send his yhas into a gallop.
Worse still, Mikial realized, he was right. How long before his people give the Minnerans a weapon that can't be countered? “You want help? Convince my Tasur and Tasuria you're worth rescuing.” She knew there was little likelihood in that, but it might keep Ryan headed in the right direction. Mikial lowered her rifle, waiting to see if she would have to leave his body with the rest.
“If I go back with you, it won't be as your prisoner, Mikial."
“I'm supposed to trust you as anything else?"
“Trust this, then. You've been going east in order to reach your hills, right?"
She nodded.
Mikial disliked the smile on his lips as Ryan spoke. “The only thing you would have reached was a beach. That's when I planned on telling you that you're not in Kioranna. That's what you thought, right?” Ryan pointed westward. “You're home's that way. We crashed in Minnera, Mikial."
“You're lying!"
Ryan swung off the saddle, her rifle tracking him as he jerked a belt off one of the dead bodies. Ryan walked over and shook it at her. “These are Blue Belts. The Blue Guild controls Minneran agriculture, and uses that leverage to keep their seats on the Protectorate. They also enjoy a relatively stable population, unlike the rest."
“I've heard of them,” Mikial answered dully. We can't possibly be in Minnera! “Unlike the other Minnerans, they usually just set up Passion camps like the Kiorannans. So we let them live."
“Yeah, well Manwal Kinn doesn't share your generosity.” He tossed the belt back among the bodies. “My guess is that the Blue Belts didn't want to be part of his Eastern Union either.” Ryan saddled his yhas once more and gestured toward the village square. “One more bit of proof for you."
Mikial
followed him up the embankment to the courtyard in front of the hall. Ryan pointed at the bell tower. Illuminated by the fire was an engraving of Minnera's insignia, a stalk of wheat held down by crossed swords. Something she had not noticed before while hunting the soldiers. Mikial's last bastion of denial crumbled. “Your word that you won't attempt to escape.” It seemed a laughable request.
“Only if I can trust you.” Ryan pulled the edge of his hand across his neck. “Every time I turn around, you're looking like you want to cut my throat."
“That's because I want to! My sect prefers not to take prisoners, Ryan."
He slapped at his saddle. “Then don't treat me like one!” Ryan put a hand to his chest. “I'm an emissary, Mikial. I'm willing to walk freely into your hills. I'm putting my life in your hands. What trust can you show me in turn?"
Mikial gave a low hiss of frustration. “You can trust me to get us both to the Holding in one piece. After that, you'll have to trust your own cleverness when convincing our Tasur to help you.” She shouldered her rifle with a scowl. Once more she had fallen into collaborating with the enemy. “We'll both face Judgment for this."
Ryan laughed. “Relax. We'll probably get ourselves shot long before then. I managed some sleep before you started blasting away over here, so I suggest we use what remains of the night.” Ryan pointed west. “That way, Qurl."
“Human,” Mikial spat back with distain. “Even what you call yourself sounds bad!"
“It'll grow on you."
“It won't,” she growled back, not wanting to let rising curiosity cause her to drop her guard around this creature. His very existence was enough to drive her thoughts into fascinating possibilities, or hysterics.
* * * *
They traveled west as wild things might. Mikial employed every evasive skill she knew. Game trails and creek beds were her roads. Any slight disturbance was cause enough for sudden stillness. Fortunately, Ryan appeared to possess enough training himself as not to blunder them both into trouble. As dawn came, the forest gave way to farms, requiring them to use hedges and rutted back paths. Mikial's best allies were the farmers themselves. Most had planted winter tallis for making bread, and the tall stalks provided excellent cover.
