Two amber eyes opened wide. Kazza bounded upright. Purring, he balanced on his rear paws; without leaning on Flame for support, he nuzzled her ear. Flame laughed and chose a large loaf of Kazza’s favorite black bread as well as a pumpernickel one. He accepted the loaves with dignity and a twirl of his whiskers.
Purring loud enough to shake the rafters, he sprawled back under the table; Kazza chewed on the black bread, and held down the pumpernickel under a massive paw, as if he expected it to escape.
Nimri hugged Flame, then placed a steaming pot of mint tea on the oak table. While Flame slid into a chair, Nimri added two mugs of swirling blue glaze, a pot of honey and a platter of oatmeal-nut cookies.
“I made a potpourri for Tansy.” Nimri sat down and poured the steaming tea. “Would you take it to her? I’d go myself, but…” Words failed her.
Flame kept her gaze downcast. “Some speculate that the infusion of magic saved her body, but her spirit had already died.” Flame took a quick sip of tea.
It was just as she’d feared. “And?”
“They see Tansy waste away more each day and some whisper that too much power is crippling her.” Flame’s lips twisted into a disapproving smile. “Of course, some, like Talon boast that no amount of power is too much for them to handle.” She looked over her shoulder, then turned back to Nimri and leaned forward. “They haven’t seen the other girl,” she whispered. Nimri frowned in confusion. “The one who got so much power that she could throw more than her weight over the crowd.” Flame took a long swallow of tea to fortify herself and dropped her gaze to the floor. “Some whisper that she died. Pearl thinks we should refuse an infusion of myst. She says that mere mortals are too weak to survive it.” Flame looked up; her pupils were so dilated that her irises appeared black. “Nimri, soon the Lost will hear, then Cartwright will know.”
Nimri nodded. “I’d hoped to avoid becoming a sanctimonious protector.”
“Like Rolf.”
“You understand.”
Flame shrugged. “You’ve never liked being the one in charge. And I know how you’ve dreaded having to take up the staff of protection.” She grinned. “You have always preferred allowing people to deal with their own problems.”
“True.” Since Flame was her friend, she was always the last to hear Pearl’s dire predictions. Now that she’d heard the gossip, that meant everyone, including the Lost already knew.
So much for her plan.
“Once Cartwright suspects we’re vulnerable, he’ll have his people test you.” Hearing Flame utter Cartwright’s name in a normal voice, instead of the typical whisper, Nimri blinked. A tear tumbled down Flame’s cheek. “Oh, Nimri, I don’t want to see another man hurt like that.” More tears sparkled in Flame’s expressive leaf-green eyes. “Tell me I’m foolish to worry.”
“I wish I knew if that old one still lived.” Nimri tried to stall for time, as she weighed her options for dealing with her problems without Larwin and GEA-4’s help. “Great-grandfather despised Cartwright so much that Bryta and I couldn’t utter his name without fear of lightening striking us dead.” How long would they be away getting their gifts? A year? Ten? More than a day without Larwin and GEA-4 was too long. “I’ve always believed our tribe’s hatred was because Great-grandfather viewed Cartwright as the one person whose ability rivaled his.”
“Few people like a worthy competitor.”
“Perhaps that was part of it, but the way my grandfather despised Cartwright seemed to go beyond that.” Nimri shook her head over the strength of her grandfather’s animosity. “A few times I wondered if Great-grandfather’s loathing for confrontations and his decision to save some of the Lost was the reason he chose not to instruct me in some intricacies. Later, I realized he didn’t train me because I didn’t have—” Nimri choked and coughed. Covering her mouth with her hand, she held in the admission about her own failings. And the theory that perhaps her great grandfather hadn’t killed the entire enemy tribe because his power had limits, despite his posturing about being all-powerful. Nimri noisily cleared her throat.
Flame glanced around to make certain no one had come in. “My mother told me Cartwright curbed the river’s rising and saved lives...Lost lives.” Flame’s whispered words were startling as a shout. “We fear what we perceive to be more powerful.”
Certain that her best friend had read her mind, Nimri took a sip of tea, hoping her movements looked casual and unconcerned. “If Cartwright is as powerful as Great-grandfather, he probably knows he can squish me like a bug.” It felt liberating to voice her fear.
“His power may have withered with age.”
Nimri fingered the mug’s blue swirl. “Great-grandfather’s power grew—his ashes of death were strong enough to bring Larwin to aid and teach me.” A chill washed down her spine. She looked at the amber window and imagined them struggling up the barely visible mountain face to get things they needed because they’d misjudged her ability.
Flame brightened. “Then Larwin can deal with Pearl and her rumors.”
“Larwin left at first light.”
“Oh.” Flame’s face blanched. She gripped her tea mug, as if it was a helping hand. After a pause, she asked, “Couldn’t you find the girl? Show our people that she lives?”
“She went with Larwin.”
Flame looked up, sharply. “Why?” Her tone was shrill with fear. “Did she need him to help her control the power?”
“She left with him because it was her choice.” Nimri tried to sound as casual as possible.
Color began to return to Flame’s complexion. “Well, if he felt he could leave, that must mean our tribe is safe despite Pearl and her gossip.”
Nimri hadn’t thought of Larwin’s departure in that light. “Perhaps for now.” She stole a glance at the window. “He said he’d return. I had the impression he disapproved of our way of life. He intends to bring back some…things.” Nimri moved the mug back and forth until a wet oval of condensation expanded on the table’s golden surface.
Flame frowned. “Weapons?” Nimri shrugged. “What didn’t he like?”
Nimri sighed. “I’m not exactly sure.”
“You must have a guess.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Nimri admitted. Flame was truly her friend, and she deserved the truth. “All I can think about is Pearl and wonder if her tales will bring us ruin.”
“You’re beginning to sound like Bryta.” Flame chuckled. “Yesterday, she told me she wished Zurgon would send Pearl across the river.”
Nimri gave a half-hearted laugh. “With the competition gone, Bryta might stand a chance of finally getting Zurgon for her cherished partner. About time, don’t you think? She’s wanted to be head woman for over fifty winters.”
“Since before her cherished partner died in that fire?”
“Probably,” Nimri said. She leaned closer to confess. “From a few comments she’s made, I have the feeling that Bryta has desired Zurgon since she was a child.” Though she’d never understood Bryta’s fixation with high-handed men.
“So that’s why she hates Pearl.”
“Partly. I think she likes the thought of being head woman, too.” A mischievous grin dimpled Nimri’s cheeks. “If Pearl did cross the river, her constant meddling might focus attention away from us.”
Flame shook her head. “Naw, annoying as she can be, I think Zurgon would miss her. Worse, I think Cartwright would feed her to his Yetis. She grimaced. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
Gooseflesh rippled over Nimri. “Yetis.” She rubbed her arms. “I hope I never see one.”
“Me too.” Flame shuddered. “Do you really think they exist?”
Nimri didn’t know what she thought. “If Cartwright exists, perhaps they do, as well.” A chill washed over her. “I hope we never know.” But in her heart, she already knew that her nemesis and his evil beasts existed. As the deception she and GEA-4 had carried out fell into a shambles, it would only be a matter of time until a Yeti lunged at
her out of the night’s darkest shadows. She could imagine its fetid breath and the pain as it ripped out her throat, spilling her life’s blood and the hopes of her Tribe.
She gulped tea and wished Rolf had lived forever.
Chapter Fourteen
Larwin’s boot caught on a rock. Arms flailing, he stumbled, and instinctively threw his body away from the precipice’s deadly drop. His shoulder connected with the sheer wall to his left and his sleeve snagged on a granite spine. Fabric ripped, as the knife-sharp shard dug into his biceps. Pain radiated out from the wound. Decades of training gave him the ability to control his reaction and save himself from stepping back too quickly.
“Radzuk.”
Carefully, he eased his upper arm away from the rocky spike. Blood oozed at an alarming rate, but fortunately, it didn’t pump in bursts. He dug into his haversack and extracted his med-kit. Ripping open a metallic envelope, he pulled out a sterile cleansing pad. The antiseptic stung. Then, he grabbed the tube of bonding agent, applied it, pinched his torn skin together and counted to twenty-five.
Perspiration stung his eyes and it felt like his arm was on fire. He looked at GEA-4, who had made no effort to aid him. Her profile blended in with the rock wall as she stopped and surveyed the panorama of the valley. Larwin’s teeth clenched. “Get that brown gunk off.”
“Why?” Her alien voice whined. “I appear more human.”
“You are not supposed to look human. You aren’t supposed to act indifferent, either. You’re supposed to protect.”
“Then why was I given this form?”
“It’s functional,” Larwin said.
GEA-4 scanned the distant valley floor.
Larwin tried to breathe so he could conserve oxygen.
“There is no reason to make this journey,” GEA-4 said.
“Gibberish.”
“The odds of rescue are 123,893 to one. Furthermore, there is minimal chance the Pterois Volitan will have any functional equipment. Even if some useful devices escaped damage during the crash, it is probable that the planetoid’s high ion levels will interfere with any transmission. Staying here is a one-hundred-percent survivable solution.”
His fingers dug into the rock wall and Larwin wished it were her neck cables. “For whom?” He turned toward the infernal machine just as an icy gust of wind swooped downward. Rather than be blown off the wafer-thin path, he pressed his body against the rough rock wall, but to his disgust, the annoying android maintained her casual pose on the edge of nothingness.
“Your inquiry is inadequate.”
Though his teeth clenched with the temptation to give the wind some help, he knew a warrior could never win when he allowed emotion to rule his thoughts and actions. He took a deep breath then patiently explained, “Guerreterre’s resources have been gone for over two centuries. Everyone would have starved decades ago, if we hadn’t conquered primitive planets like Callanda and commandeered their resources.” He refused to remember Callanda as it had been when he was three and his father had taken him there. Now, Callanda’s resources were nearly depleted and if another world weren’t found, soon all of Guerreterre would suffer. That was enough reason to go back to the Pterois Volitan and try his best to alert his commander, lousy odds or not.
Of course, the lure of wealth and status made the choice irresistible.
“True.” Except for her hair, which swirled in a stringy cloud, GEA-4 stood unaffected by the erratic blustering wind. “It is illogical to expect a rescue ship.”
“We must find a way to send the High Command a message and let them know there’s more at stake than my life and the data from your trial run,” Larwin explained. “This planet can grow enough food to feed millions. As soon as we manage to notify the High Command, we need to figure out a way to get agricultural equipment through the wormhole.” Of course, if the wormhole was not stable he was probably trapped here for the rest of his life. He frowned as he realized the thought was not completely upsetting.
“This world is in balance. Probabilities indicate that bringing in Guerreterre equipment would destroy the ecological equilibrium and eventually turn this world into another Guerreterre or Callanda.”
“And if I don’t bring this world to Guerreterre, my family and colleagues could starve.” Larwin stamped his chilled feet and tried to ignore the burning pain in his arm.
“Bring them here.” GEA-4 gestured toward the lush valley.
“Impossible. I don’t know where most of them are.”
GEA-4 turned to him. “Nimri knows where everyone is.”
“Yeah. The whole ignorant population is right in that valley.”
Her head cocked to one side. She’d developed the annoying anomaly when Nimri had dyed her skin and hair. “I do not have data pertaining to Guerreterre families,” GEA-4 said. Who would have thought that her singsong kid’s voice could grate on nerves as badly as her seductive tones? “I have only had Chosen families to observe. Why is your family so different, that you do not know where they are? Do you suspect they’ve moved since we left on our trial-run?”
An icy blast hit Larwin in the face. This one held stinging droplets of water. He suspected that GEA-4’s understanding was restricted to her initial programming and any knowledge gained since the Pterois Volitan had left on the training mission two months before. His ill-fated flight hadn’t provided the android with any understanding of the planet, which she was intended to serve. “On Guerreterre, sexual bonds are temporary. My parents were rare because they had two children together.”
“That is not a real family.”
“Your interpretation is flawed. There are vast social differences between a primarily agricultural society, such as the one which inhabits that valley,” Larwin gestured toward it, “And a system as vast as Guerreterre’s, which spans two galaxies. That means the person’s job is more important than any non-related personal involvements and they could be assigned anywhere within the realm.”
She tilted her head to the other side. He gritted his teeth. “Many must work off-homeworld.” He nodded. “Then, why is food for that planet so important?”
“Supply lines.” How was he expected to explain such simple concepts to an android with faulty scanners? And why was he even trying? Since he wasn’t sure he understood the differences or why Guerreterre’s ways were better than Chatterre’s, Larwin changed the subject. “I should be grateful you ruined the Pterois Volitan by running into debris. Otherwise, I’d never have discovered this bounty.”
“There was no debris.”
He stared at her wondering who her programmer had been. “You said that debris damaged the engines and they didn’t fail on their own.”
“Correct.”
Larwin closed his eyes, took a calming breath and vowed that if it was humanly possible to return to Guerreterre, after he secured his future by advising the High Command of this planet, he’d find the programmer and either murder him/her or give them a kiss.
He massaged the area around his aching shoulder and wished he had fast-healing alien DNA, like Nimri and the other girl. “We’ll never get to the peak standing here.” Nimble as a ballerina, GEA-4 pivoted and headed up the treacherous, ribbonlike trail as if it was a wide boulevard. Larwin pinched the bridge of his nose. Conversing with the annoying android had given him a headache that threatened to turn into a migraine if he continued trying to make sense of her corrupted data files. Larwin sighed and cautiously followed her as he vowed that he’d make sure GEA-4 had a complete diagnostic overhaul as soon as he had the chance, but for the moment, his primary goal was to find a place to camp before the sun set.
Late the following afternoon, Larwin and GEA-4 arrived at the balata grove. Long shadows gave it such an air of mystery that Larwin finally understand why Nimri thought the silver and purple trees were magical. He smiled at the possibilities for using the primitive belief to his advantage.
Though his lungs burned for more air, his shoulder stung and his muscles felt like pulp, Larwin'
s thoughts kept remembering the individuals and Kazza he had met in the past days and often, he found his thoughts wandering to how they would be affected when progress came to their planet. He shook his head and told himself that he had been on Chatterre’s surface too long if he was thinking of them as individuals instead of an enemy to be conquered, If or when he succeeded in getting through to the High Command. His instructors had always taught them never to get emotionally involved with aliens, but Larwin had never met anyone outside the empire before now. Before he could rest or have second thoughts, he donned his environmental-suit and keyed on the oxygen. Inhaling deeply, he immediately felt revived.
It was amazing what oxygen could do.
He attached his sidearm and his light-projector, then got a length of primitive rope out of his haversack. He fastened the rope to a well-rooted balata and climbed down into the cave.
GEA-4 followed.
~0~
Nimri dreamed that jagged teeth were gnashing at her and that gigantic earthen lips were opening wide to swallow her alive. She spun around and fled from the gaping jaws rising from the ground. Glancing over her shoulder, she glimpsed glistening teeth gnash at her, but a moment later she ran into the balata grove and safety. Panting for breath, she scrambled behind one of the sacred trees and sank to the ground. Her lungs burned from the effort and heart hammering, she leaned against a silvery truck and listened for sounds of pursuit, but all she could hear was her own harsh breathing. She clamped her mouth shut and whipped sideways, instead of getting a glimpse of the earth demon, the movement sent her rolling. She scrambled upright, fearing the horrible jaws had ripped into the sacred tree, but they were nowhere in sight. Exhausted, she got to her knees, holding onto a tree trunk for support. Beneath her fingers, the life-force pulsed with vigor and strength, then the tree undulated upward, wrenching its roots from the rocky soil and shaking off its leaves from its branches. Nimri fell backward, too terrified to move. The balata molded into a huge serpent. Writhing upward, it ripped its last root free from the ground and soared skyward, expanding in length and thickness until it dwarfed the central trunk of her sequoia-home. Within moments, the sky was filled with menace.
Star Bridge (Chaterre Trilogy Book 1) Page 19
