Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  “She’ll learn.” The man had no clue.

  It was then that stuffing baby items down Larten’s throat struck me as a good idea. “You oaf. She’ll probably think animal poop is clay! She’ll play with it.”

  He considered. “Yeah. I went through that phase myself.”

  “Are you telling me that you expect our baby to be covered in shit for the better part of the day?”

  “It washes off.”

  I banished him from the nursery before I could turn violent. I added two more pairs of shoes and extra tall socks to Anrel’s bin. She’ll have to wear them on her feet and hands.

  At least I’ll get a decent workout in, chasing after her to keep her from wading in mountains of animal crap. Prophets and ancestors, save me. For each ounce of shit Anrel gets into, I’m slinging that amount at Larten.

  It washes off. What an ass. He’s lucky I love him so much, or I might search for the opportunity to shove him into the sea.

  March 29

  What a night. That’s all I’ve got to say.

  Okay, so I have more than that to say. As soon as full dark hit, the shift change in our guards occurred. We’d prepared everything in the house we could…lights to go on and off at intervals, our com systems set up for the links to run through Global Security while appearing to originate from home, our things packed and ready to go. We snuck out under cover, leaving home sweet rock.

  I hate that we’re running away. The more I think about it, the more I wish I could face Nang. No, I realize there is no debating with the man. I understand he is not rational, and I’ll have damned little hope of convincing him there is no ‘us’. He was delusional to the point of breaking with his clan, and to show up here using a seed transporter. His mind is not working right.

  I want to confront him so he can be taken into custody. He has to be put somewhere safe so I can live my life. So I can be free and not look over my shoulder all the time.

  After all, I trained to defend myself against Nang. I’m a fighter, skilled with blasters, pulse rifles, blades, and my bare hands. I’ve been through a sufficient amount to believe I can at least hold him off long enough for the authorities to apprehend, if I can’t subdue him outright. I have considered offering myself as bait to draw him in.

  Nang is not predictable. I’m aware that putting myself out there in hopes of catching him could easily go wrong. I could be too confident in my abilities, something I must guard against. After all, Kalquorians between the empire and Earth had been on the lookout for him. He sneaked past them. I’d only have to make a single, tiny mistake, and he’d abduct me and Anrel.

  I’ve not mentioned playing bait to lure Nang out in the open. When we were at the territory’s Global Security headquarters and the idea came on strong, I kept that compulsion to myself. No doubt Breft would have turned down the notion immediately. It would have freaked my clanmates out.

  We weren’t at headquarters for more than five minutes. We boarded Raxstad’s shuttle, and he took us to his home which is in the best guarded location on Kalquor—the Royal House.

  Raxstad is clanned to the Dramok who serves as Emperor Clajak’s aide. I guess the Dramok emperor likes to have his assistant close. No, I didn’t tour the Imperial home or even the shuttle bay we landed in. My clan went straight from Raxstad’s personal shuttle to a household staff member’s vessel. I saw a contingent of Royal Guards and more Global Security officers. Glamorous, ha-ha.

  In our undercover getaway vehicle, we flew to the major spaceport. More clandestine sneaking ensued, with the five of us boarding a hover carrier loaded with supplies to the ship destined for a prison colony. The whole thing was so cloak-and-dagger, I began to feel ridiculous. If Nang was keeping up, he deserved an award.

  At last, we boarded the prisoner transport. As Breft had promised, we shared it with six stasis chambers, in which convicts had been placed. Besides us were two pilots and four armed guards. The guards were required in case the chambers failed for some reason, allowing the prisoners to get loose. It wasn’t the most reassuring notion, but as I eyed the stacked stasis pods, one of the guards told me there hadn’t been such an incident in over a dozen years.

  With that matter explained to my satisfaction, I joined my clan in watching the window vids. The guys might have been doing what I was; scanning the launchways for any sign of Nang. Surveillance was supposed to be tight throughout the facility, in case he’d managed to follow us this far.

  At Global Security headquarters, Breft had told us, “There’ll be no record of the prison transport diverting to Lobam to drop you off. No mention of the plan has been noted anywhere. Logs will show the prison ship going straight to the camp, landing on schedule, and returning to Kalquor on schedule. Nang will have no means of knowing anything different occurred.”

  I have to say, Breft did quite the job of covering our escape. So why was I expecting Nang to charge across the launching area?

  He didn’t. The shuttle lifted off, and we were on our way for our overnight flight to Lobam without any sign of my stalker. We were free. Safe.

  The weight of the last few days fell off my clanmates. I was as abruptly relaxed and happy as they were. I felt younger, giddy like a schoolgirl. It was wonderful. Wonderful!

  The guard in charge, Nobek Vuko, showed us one of two cabins for the use of the pilot, co-pilot, and guards when they weren’t on duty. “I’m afraid it’s not luxury accommodations, Dramok Seot,” he said, his gruff voice apologetic.

  It was cramped with three bunks attached to the wall, open shelving for belongings, a small shower, small table and two chairs. Plus a cooler with pre-packaged food and water for our comfort, and a miniscule cooker. The attached lavatory had the tiniest, most basic toilet facility and sink imaginable. I saw only the good. I crowed with delight to spy a crib in the corner, complete with a soft mattress, clean linens, and several stuffed animals. “Look, Anrel! A nice bed for you, sweetie!”

  She shrieked with delight and held out her chubby hands for the blue kestarsh plushie. She yelled her version of the word mine. “My, my, my, my!” I laughed and sat her in the crib to let her claim her prizes.

  I beamed at Officer Vuko, whose rough face was in danger of being taken over by a grin. He waved off my thanks. “It was Supervisor Breft’s doing, Matara. He has children himself, so I expect he knew this would be helpful.”

  “I’ll be certain to thank him,” I said.

  Vuko told us to let him know if we required anything else and wished us a goodnight. The door shut behind him, leaving our family alone in our quarters.

  Cifa laughed. “We’re going to be knocking into each other with every step. Our smallest closet is bigger than this!”

  “I’m grateful all the same,” I asserted. “We got away from Nang. You could have packed me in a seed carrier from Haven, and I would have taken it.”

  “No kidding.” Larten was more his old self than ever. “I can live with this. But the sleeping accommodations are tight.”

  “I can sleep in the chair,” Seot decided.

  “You can snuggle in with me,” I said, testing out the lowest bunk. The others could climb the ladder to the other two bunks. I patted the mat. “My Dramok, you’re the smallest of my mates. We’ll be crowded, but I can’t get close enough to you anyway.”

  Seot grinned and slid onto the mat with me. We snickered as we tangled legs and crushed hard against each other, trying to be comfortable. “Ancestors, what do they do with guards the size of Nobek Raxstad? My ass is sticking out into the air.”

  “The better for me to kick, my dear,” Larten said in a growl. I’d taught him the story of Little Red Riding Hood so he could tell it to Anrel. He does the wolf voice perfectly, and that was how he spoke then, much to my amusement.

  It was a testament to how relieved we were that the next two hours was filled with laughter. We kept Anrel up late too, playing and enjoying our new lease on life. We finally let her rest when she became cranky with us.

  I slept
with no nightmares to haunt me, my Dramok holding me tight. I didn’t wake until hours later, when Nobek Vuko called at the door to tell us we were in orbit around Lobam.

  March 31

  I had the opportunity to freshen up and change the clothes I’d slept in before we landed in one of the spaceports on Lobam. Located in the Besyu District of the colonized moon, it was far from the urbane setting of Kalquor’s capital city.

  I already had an idea of what to expect from Larten. A lot of the Besyu District is arid desert. With temperatures that can literally boil a person’s blood, nobody inhabits the center of this harsh land.

  However, the outskirts of the desert are more temperate and livable, even at noon. The arid landscape gives way to plains, then woodlands at the verge of an ocean. Larten’s parents lived in the woodlands, about ten miles from the sea.

  The spaceport was where the plains started to turn into desert. It was hot as the blazes when we got out of the prisoner transport. So much for my change of clothes. They hung damp on me.

  Anrel scrunched up her face despite the large, floppy hat I’d put on her. She squawked a displeased sound, so I guess the heat didn’t agree with her either.

  “I remember now why we never visit in the spring or summer,” Cifa said. “Let’s get inside the terminal before we melt.”

  A yell grabbed our attention. We glanced at two men by a large, older shuttle. I wouldn’t have called the vessel dilapidated, but it had logged its share of miles.

  One of our greeters was waving. “I recognize the shuttle,” Larten said. “It belongs to my parent clan. Those must be the bodyguards Breft assigned us.”

  Nobek Vuko had disembarked with us, as did a couple of the other guards. They wanted to be positive Nang hadn’t landed on Lobam ahead of us, though every precaution had been taken to keep him from discovering we’d left, much less where we’d gone. “I know that man. He used to work with my father, years ago. Hatzeg, what are you doing out here?”

  We met with our new best buddies halfway between the shuttles, the heat making their features shimmer. The Nobeks were old warhorses, powerful despite their graying heads and creased visages. Their bared arms and legs were more scars than skin. Though neither appeared similar to my former lover Oses, they had his demeanor—stoic and self-assured. I liked them on sight.

  The bigger was Hatzeg, and he gave Vuko a checkerboard grin, three of his teeth having absented themselves at some point in his life. “Look at this young pup. almost as pretty as a boy in his first year of training camp.”

  “Ha! You can’t see the best of my scars hiding under my formsuit. Wait—let me show you this. It’s my least impressive mark of honor.” Vuko raised his arm to display a long, jagged disfigurement from his armpit to his elbow.

  “Not bad, not bad. How’s your father Jel?”

  The other Nobek waiting with Hatzeg snorted and bowed to my clan. He possessed all his teeth. “Excuse the delay, Dramok Seot. I am Nobek Tiron. Let’s get you boarded and out of this heat.”

  Seot chuckled as Hatzeg and Vuko muttered apologies for letting camaraderie interrupt duty. They had another couple of minutes to trade quick stories as my clan and our belongings were loaded into the shuttle.

  At first glance, the interior, like the outside of the craft, wasn’t much to look at. My initial impression became more generous when I noted the typical seating had been replaced by durable but softer seating cushions. They had been constructed from patchwork pieces of strong fabric, and I appreciated the colorful charm. The shuttle was sizable, and I later found out it had started life as a moon-bound ground troop transport. Larten’s parents had scored it at a surplus auction decades ago.

  They’d converted it to not only have bench-style seating that ran along the sides of the hull, but also a nice dining space, all repurposed, repaired, and re-done from home furnishings. The kitchenette and bathroom had older fixtures and appliances, but everything was functional. A clan could have made a home out of it.

  Best of all, it was blessedly cool. Whew! I thought Georgia was hot. Besyu was a whole other level of scorching.

  The shuttle had been left idling. The engines were louder than what I was used to. Seot and Larten gave each other significant glances.

  “First order of business,” Seot chuckled.

  “Work on the shuttle’s engines,” our Nobek sighed. “Unless something more pressing is happening with the home itself.”

  Cifa snickered at my curious expression. “Because Larten’s parent clan is determined to use materials until they are beyond redemption—”

  “Even then, they keep using them,” Larten muttered.

  “—repairs to various mechanical items are ongoing,” Cifa finished.

  “Oh. Fun,” was my sarcastic assessment. I worried that our hideout might fall down around our ears as we tried to stay out of sight.

  “Don’t worry. My parents have been living sustainably for so long, there is almost always an alternate to whatever has broken down.” Larten was his most reassuring.

  I stifled a groan. At least my survival skills would be enhanced by the end of this trip.

  We soon took off, racing away from the blistering border between desert and grasslands. Since the shuttle flew smoothly, I adjusted to its blatting.

  We had an hour to watch the plain roll beneath us. Hatzeg and Tiron told us about the protective security barrier they’d set up around Clan Denkar’s homestead. “We take turns patrolling it each day,” Hatzeg laughed through his gap-teeth. “Nobek Larten’s parent clan’s power grid fluctuates enough that we have to reset the sensors on a regular basis.”

  Cifa crooked an eyebrow at Larten. “Property power grid enhancement, then shuttle repair.”

  “The list will get longer,” Larten snorted.

  Tiron added, “Livestock gets through the inner perimeter at least twice a week too, setting off the barrier’s sensors. We use those instances to drill on response times.”

  If Nang got it in his head to check out parental properties in hopes of catching up with us, he’d scratch Larten’s parent clan’s off immediately. It sounded like we were in for some rough, frontier-type living. He wouldn’t figure on me going to such a location, even to hide from him.

  If Nang ever did catch up to me, I’d punch him in the dicks for putting me through this Wild West nightmare.

  Yet I couldn’t help but appreciate the woodlands when they appeared. I’d been impressed by the multicolored trees on Kalquor, but Besyu’s forests were amazing too. The foliage appeared dipped in precious metals. Bronze, copper, gold… the astounding hues were amazing as they slipped beneath the shuttle. Had our sanctuary been based on looks alone, I’d have been a lot more optimistic about the stay.

  My clanmates had given me cause to fear the worse, however. When the ocean appeared on the horizon and the shuttle dropped towards a large clearing a few minutes later, I can be forgiven for my shock upon spying the beautiful freestanding house and outbuildings that awaited us. More amazing was to find these structures had all the appearance and charm of fairytale buildings when seen up close.

  The roofs were black shimmering mirrors from the solar collecting panels placed there. That was the only detail that robbed the buildings of pure enchantment. Otherwise, they were as magical as any child ever dreamed a make-believe world could be.

  Clan Denkar had built their house, stables, and shuttle storage barn from the surrounding trees. The wood itself was as eye-catching as the leaves that had once adorned the crowns of the timber. Where it hadn’t been painted or stained, it was striped brown, white, and black. The natural pattern was fabulous all on its own, and I wouldn’t have thought of enhancing any plank or log any further.

  Clan Denkar had. Not just master builders, but craftsmen to their very core, they had carved that gorgeous wood into more gorgeous reliefs. Faces of men, women, and animals competed for space with flowers and abstract patterns that never came across as haphazard for all their differences in shapes and styl
es. I was so enthralled by the sheer artistry that I had little trouble ignoring the three large piles of machine parts and other assorted bits that had been furniture, appliances, and whatnot. Those heaps rose like small mountains behind the shuttle barn, and I made a dim mental note to myself to make sure Anrel didn’t wander that way.

  Equally unimportant to me were the long-legged flock of swalla, the fat and wobbly pilchok that perched everywhere that was off the ground, and the five massive ronka that lumbered sleepy-eyed wherever they wished, including the lush garden plots planted haphazardly all over the place. One of the buffalo-sized beasts busied itself by scratching its ass against the corner of the house, concerning me that it might knock the amazing structure over.

  We set down in front of the barn. Tiron was first out the hatch, having a glance around before the rest of us disembarked.