Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing

by George R. Shirer

  “Excuse me,” said Fel. “Is there some sort of problem?”

  The older server looked up, fingertips rosy with embarrassment. “Ah. Sir. No, no problem. Not really.”

  “The doors are stuck,” said one of the others.

  “Celejo!”

  The older man glowered at the server who’d spoken. The younger man shrugged and grinned, good-naturedly.

  “I’m sorry, sir. There’s obviously an error in the system, but I’m sure we’ll have it worked out soon.”

  “If you need to use the wastechamber, there’s one in the back,” Celejo offered, nodding toward the kitchen.

  “Oh. Thanks. That’s. . . .”

  The infoscreen flashed and the headwaiter sighed. “Thank the pantheon! The doors are unlocking.”

  Fel stepped back, wondering if he had overreacted. The Ruby Room’s doors slid open, revealing a trio of Jurkuroi. One of them was crouched next to something that looked like a weapon, his gloved hand resting on a plunger. Fel took a breath, to shout a warning, but it was too late.

  * * * * *

  Savogh watched Nodicwi assemble the atomizer’s components with practiced ease. The young man didn’t exhibit caution until he removed the base elements and their catalyst. These, he slid into their respective places with great care.

  “You’re certain that this won’t affect us?” asked Savogh.

  “Positive, sir,” said Nodicwi. “The mixture is keyed specifically to Junians. We could wade through it and it wouldn’t affect us.”

  “As long as you’re sure.”

  “What about their medical implants?” asked Zej. “Won’t they counter the effects?”

  “No,” said Nodicwi. “Junian medical implants only react when their hosts are in distress. The mix won’t trigger that kind of reaction. As far as the implants are concerned, their hosts will just suddenly drop off to sleep.”

  “And if they don’t?” asked Hoxo. “What then?”

  “Then Pauxor Zej gets to demonstrate his fighting skills,” said Savogh.

  Zej grinned.

  “The atomizer is ready,” announced Nodicwi.

  “Move it to the doorway,” instructed Savogh. “Make sure we get maximum dispersal. Hoxo, on my command, open the doors. Nodicwi, as soon as that happens, trigger the device.”

  They assumed their positions, Nodicwi adjusting the atomizer’s nozzles toward the banquet room doors. Zej stood on the left, his hand resting lightly on the scrambler attached to his belt. Savogh stood on the right.

  “Now, Hoxo.”

  The infospecialist tapped in the command. As the banquet room’s doors slid open, Savogh saw a group of startled Junian domestics and, behind them, a young male in the stiff formal robes of the Junian Guard. The youth was opening his mouth, when Nodicwi hit the plunger, dumping the catalytic agent into the base mixture.

  A cloud of sweet-smelling air exploded from the atomizer’s nozzles, flooding the banquet room. Savogh’s sensitive nostrils twitched at the odor, his small mouth forming a cruel, satisfied smile as every Junian in the room suddenly slumped over, unconscious.

  “How long before the effect fades, urwak?” demanded Savogh.

  “We have an hour, sir,” said Nodicwi. He was already taking the atomizer apart, so that the components could be thrown into the nearest recycler port.

  Savogh grunted. “Good. Zej, you’re with me.”

  They moved through the room, stepping over sprawled Junians. Zej made his way toward the kitchens, to make sure they were secure. Savogh, meanwhile, walked to the central table. Third Guard Officer Iluso Velu sat, sprawled, in her chair. With her were her husband and a Fleet Officer that Savogh didn’t recognize.

  The Jurkuroi gorxoar cupped Velu’s face between his hands. His fingers found the pulse points beneath the woman’s ears. They throbbed, slow and steady.

  “Officer Velu,” murmured Savogh. “It’s been a long time. And the years have been so much kinder to you, than they have to me. Ah well. We’ll soon remedy that.”

  Zej emerged from the kitchens. “We’re secure, sir.”

  “Good.” Savogh let Velu’s head fall from his hands. “Bring her. We have three hours to make our exit point.”

  * * * * *

  John watched the Jurkuroi through half-slitted eyes. When everyone else had collapsed, his first impulse had been to raise an alarm. That was snuffed when the Jurkuroi stepped into the room. Old instincts kicked in and he slumped in his chair, watching as one of the Jurkuroi went into the kitchen and another made his way to the central table. After listening to Savogh’s speech, John realized that if he was going to do anything, time was going to be a factor.

  He slid his eyes toward Jata. She had collapsed, like everyone else. Her head lay on the table, fish stew drying in her nearly-pink hair. When she woke up, John knew she would be furious. Now, though, she was unconscious and snoring.

  No help there, he thought.

  The Jurkuroi were leaving. Velu was slung over the shoulder of the brawny-looking one, carried from the room like a sack of potatoes. John waited until the Jurkuroi had left before sitting up and tapping his comm. It buzzed, but couldn’t get a connection.

  Wonderful, he thought. They’re jamming the comms.

  Glancing at the table, he picked up a glass knife, then stood and went after the kidnappers.

  * * * * *

  “Naq is bringing the aircar now,” reported Hoxo. “He should be in front of the hotel in a few moments, gorxoar.”

  Savogh smiled. “Good. Help Zej with our prize. When we leave, I want any witnesses to think she’s just drunk.”

  Nodicwi frowned. “Won’t it look odd? A Junian woman leaving with a bunch of aliens?”

  “Junians are a decadent, deviant people,” said Zej. “They’ll probably think she’s coming with us, to jig all four of us.”

  Hoxo’s comm-band vibrated. “Naq is here.”

  “Let’s go,” said Savogh.

  Hoxo went to Zej, and together, they supported the unconscious Velu. She was almost a foot taller than the two Jurkuroi. Her legs bent and her head slumped forward. Fortunately, her formal robes helped to hide the fact that she wasn’t actually walking, as they drug her across the carpet.

  Savogh led the way. Outside the hotel, a sleek silver aircar hovered. A hatch slid open. Their pilot, Naq, waved them forward.

  “Come on! Come on! I can’t hover here forever! The peacekeepers will notice!”

  Savogh climbed into the car and cuffed the man. “Calm down. We’ll be out of here in two minutes.”

  He turned back to the others and gaped. Zej and Hoxo were frozen, Velu still dangling between them. They were staring at Nodicwi. The young urwak stood with a glass knife pressed to his throat. The knife was held by a Junian in formal Guard robes; his blue hair was so dark, it appeared black.

  “Release Officer Velu.”

  Savogh climbed out of the car, studied the man. He shook his head. “No. Zej. Hoxo. Put our prize in the car.”

  “Make a move toward the car, and I’ll slit this man’s throat.”

  Savogh laughed. “Really? Do it then.”

  Hoxo frowned. “Gorxoar?”

  “He won’t. He’s a Junian, Hoxo. They’re soft. Weak. He’s bluffing.”

  John laughed. “Two things you should know. The first is that I’m not Junian.”

  Savogh’s lip curled in disgust. “A transparent lie. You’re a guardsman, so you must be Junian.”

  “The second,” said John, “is that your interference field doesn’t work outside the hotel.”

  “Oh, jig me,” said Hoxo. “Savogh . . . .”

  Zej plucked the scrambler from his belt and shot Nodicwi in the chest. The young urwak fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

  “Savogh!” screamed Naq.

  The old Jurkuroi spun, saw peacekeeper aircars descending from above, their blue and pink lights flashing brightly.

  “Put her in the car!”

  Naq slammed the aircar’s
controls, sealing the hatch in Savogh’s face. Roaring, Savogh pounded on the hull. The aircar shot straight up, into the night sky, at full speed. It burst through the gathering peacekeeper aircars, clipping one, before shooting away. Immediately, two of the peacekeepers peeled away in pursuit. The others dropped toward the street.

  “Savogh, what do we do?” demanded Hoxo.

  “What can we do?” snarled Savogh. “Zej. Kill Velu.”

  “Are you crazy?” snapped Hoxo. “There are peacekeepers here! They’re probably recording everything we do! And you want to kill someone in front of them!”

  “I will have my vengeance!” screamed Savogh. “Zej!”

  But Zej couldn’t move. None of them could. Savogh stumbled, felt his limbs tingle for a moment before going numb. He realized, as he fell, that the peacekeepers had shot him with a neural scrambler. Hoxo and Zej were also down. Velu tumbled from their grip to land so close to Savogh that, if he could have moved, he would have reached out and strangled her.

  * * * * *

  The Hotel Tako was crawling with personnel from the Seven Lakes Emergency Authority. Medics moved through the banquet room, administering mild stimulants to the unconscious guests, rousing them in small groups. Trauma counselors explained what had happened and provided reassurance that the situation was safely resolved. No one seemed injured by the Jurkuroi weapon, although several outfits had been ruined. The hotel’s other guests had been trapped in their rooms, unable to communicate with anyone thanks to Hoxo’s jamming field. Most had simply been inconvenienced by the incident, but one family had broken down their hotel room door to get to a terrified toddler, trapped outside when the rooms were sealed.

  Defense Authority agents had arrived to take the Jurkuroi into custody. The Seven Lakes peacekeepers had gladly handed them over, especially when it became clear that the Diplomatic Authority and the Jurkuroi Embassy would be getting involved. There were even rumors that Guard First Officer Netevu and Assembly Chief Uvetal were keeping an eye on things.

  John wasn’t sure if he believed the last bit, but given Velu’s position, he couldn’t discount it. At least, not entirely.

  Velu seemed to have made a complete recovery. She was speaking with Fleet Officer Lujo and a young woman from the Diplomatic Authority, who looked completely out of her depth.

  “How are you doing, Epcott?”

  John looked up and saw Sufo standing next to him. The old medic had been the last to be revived, a fact that had met with his considerable ire.

  “I can almost feel my toes,” said John. He was sitting on a couch in the hotel lobby, where a pair of medics had propped him. “How about you?”

  Sufo lowered himself next to John. “Well, this isn’t as bad as the fortieth anniversary party Iluso threw, but it’s a close second.”

  “Really? What happened then?”

  “The pleasure boat we reserved sank.” The old man looked around the room and sighed. “At least no one’s died this time.”

  “Sufo, you know I like you, but I don’t think I’m going to be attending any more of your wife’s parties,” said John, carefully.

  “Don’t worry. Iluso won’t be throwing any more parties if I have a say.”

  “Do you?”

  The old medic snorted. “What do you think, boy?”

  John patted Sufo’s hand. “I think you should consider either a second wife or active security at these things. I’m sure old Homu could refer a good security team.”

  “Hmf!” Sufo clasped his hand. “Thanks, by the way. For saving my wife.”

  “Consider it a retirement gift if you like.”

  “Ha! You wish!”

  “Can you tell me what this was all about?”

  “Just Iluso’s past, catching up to her,” said Sufo. “Savogh’s a Jurkuroi renegade, a pirate and a murderer. About twenty years ago, Iluso captured him and turned him over to the Jurkuroi government.” The old man scowled. “The fool’s been plotting his revenge ever since.”

  “Twenty years. That’s a long time. You have to admire his patience.”

  “He’s insane. This time, the Jurkuroi will execute him or lobotomize him.”

  “I can’t say I feel particularly sorry for him, Sufo.”

  “At the moment, Epcott, neither can I,” admitted the old man. He glanced around the room again. “Where’s Fex?”

  “Trying to get fish soup out of her hair.”

  Sufo winced. “When you see her, give her my regards. And my congratulations on her promotion. She’ll make a fine First.”

  “You could tell her yourself.”

  “And ruin our relationship?” said Sufo. “Gods forbid!”

  He stood, and for the first time, John noticed how slowly the old man was moving. Sufo’s hair, dust-gray as long as John had known him, had started to turn silver-white. It looked thinner, as well. John felt a pang of sadness. He touched the old medic’s hand.

  “Sufo, is it true? Are you retiring to one of the Colonies?”

  “Not for a little while. Not until Iluso leaves the Guard.”

  “But then?”

  “Then,” said Sufo, “she and I will vanish into a nice little retirement block in Moondome Two.” His dark eyes twinkled with amusement. “Drop by if you’re ever in the neighborhood.”

  “I’ll do that,” promised John.

  * * * * *

  Nikosu Island had not changed much in the time that John was away. As Rainsky embraced Juni, the knotlimbs shed their tough, protective bark and the fireflowers bloomed, carpeting whole sections of the island in caustic orange blossoms. On the west side of the island, the spearbeaks began their savage, noisy mating rituals. Gentler avians, solitary orangebills and flocks of lavender-winged surfdivers, returned to nest in the island’s forest. A family of pricklecoats emerged from hibernation, digging out of their underground burrow to troop through the underbrush. Purple fluffbushes exploded, filling the air with clouds of drifting white seedpods.

  John was working on the path between his home and the landing field, clearing it of fireflowers and a particularly hardy species of blue thornvine, when his comm chirped. He paused, tapped the device.

  “This is John.”

  “Officer Epcott, this is Fleet Officer Lujo.”

  John frowned. “Sir. What can I do for you?”

  “I’d like to speak with you, Epcott. Face to face.”

  “Of course, sir. I ship out on the Just Emperor in three days. When would you like to meet?”

  “Actually, guardsman, I’m in a transport heading toward your residence.”

  John blinked, glanced at the pale blue sky. “What’s your ETA, sir? I’ll have to disengage privacy before you can land.”

  “We should be there in an hour.”

  “I’ll be looking for you, sir.”

  * * * * *

  Fleet Officer Lujo’s transport signaled John exactly one hour later. John disabled his privacy settings, and switched on the landing field’s guidance beacon. Lujo stepped off the transport, accompanied by a couple of aids. The Fleet Officer gave the landing field an appraising look, as he brushed John’s palms.

  “This is a fine place you have here, Epcott.”

  “It suits me, sir,” said John. He gestured toward the path. “If you’ll follow me.”

  He led them down the path, beneath the canopy of twining knotlimb branches. The aids peered at everything with interest, while Lujo asked the occasional question.

  The house seemed to surprise the Fleet Officer. Inside, Lujo studied everything with genuine curiosity. His aids stood, a bit uncertainly, in the foyer. John waved the trio to his seating area, expanded to include two overstuffed chairs in addition to the couch. While his visitors settled themselves, John stepped into the kitchen and brought out a tray. It was loaded with a pot of red tea, plates of sliced greenfruit and two bowls of nuts.

  The group chatted for a few moments about current events. While they did, John saw that the Fleet Officer continued to study his home.
His aides seemed more interested in the food. After a little while, Lujo sat back, balancing his cup on his knee.

  “Epcott, I’d like to talk with you about your career.”

  John helped himself to a spoonful of sticky, sweet tarnuts. “Yes, sir?”

  “I’ve been reviewing your record,” said Lujo. “May I be candid?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Your talents and abilities are being wasted.”

  John shifted in his chair, popped a tarnut into his mouth. “Are they?”

  “I believe so, and I’m not the only one. In light of recent events, First Guard Officer Netevu has taken an interest in you.”

  “Should I be flattered about that or worried, sir?”

  “Probably both,” admitted Lujo. “We’d like you to consider an offer. It’s not one we’ve made to many people. Lol Kitos, Ifo Icotu, Vujonovo Leban. Just to name a few. You know them?”

  “I know First Officer Kitos personally, sir. The others, I know by reputation.”

  “Then you know that Kitos is taking a position with Guard Command.”

  “Yes, sir,” said John. “But First Officer Icotu is dead, along with her entire crew. And Leban? Leban had a nervous breakdown that forced him to leave the Guard.”

  The Fleet Officer sighed, his face crumpling for a moment into regret. “Leban’s inclusion in the program was a mistake. One that I have to take personal responsibility for.”

  “You didn’t pick those names at random, did you, sir?”

  “No. I chose them deliberately, to illustrate the dangers and the rewards of what we’re offering you.”

  “Which is what, sir?”

  “The chance to rise quickly through the officer ranks, to utilize your decision-making and leadership skills where they’re needed most.” The Fleet Officer leaned back. His black eyes were hard as stone. “I won’t lie. The assignments you’d be given wouldn’t be easy or pleasant. A lot of them would be dangerous.”

  John put down his tea. “You want me to be a fixer.”

  The Fleet Officer scowled. “So, you’ve heard the term before? Where from? Kitos?”