by C H Gideon
She recognized one of them from the fight when Sergeant Gib had led them to the secret enclave of the rich and petty.
“I know you,” she said.
He pressed his gun harder against her head. “You know nothing.”
“Easy,” said another local who’d slipped into the room while they’d been distracted. A female stood next to him, and Jiya presumed these were Val and Ko.
Ka’nak looked ready to pounce.
Wait, she said over the mental link. She didn’t need the Melowi shedding blood.
Not yet, at least.
“More of the president’s spies,” another of them said, this one older and scarred.
“We’re hardly spies,” Jiya argued.
The one holding the gun to her head chuckled at that. “Clearly, since we heard you approaching the instant you opened the door.”
“If you’re not spies, then why are you here?” Val asked, hands on her hips. She wore a strange suit of oiled skin that clung to her firm figure.
Ko wore something similar, as did the people surrounding them. Jiya could smell the ocean on them.
“Jaer Pon did send us here—” Jiya started.
“I warned you,” the older male shouted, letting out a growl.
“Relax, Tog,” Ko told him.
“How can I relax when you’re leaving their weapons on them like that?” Tog ranted, nearly frothing at the mouth.
“He’s right.” Jiya eased her hands into the air, making it clear she wasn’t trying to do anything aggressive. “Take our weapons,” she told them. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
“This is a bad idea,” Ka’nak snarled.
“Maybe,” Jiya shot back, “but let them have your gun.”
The Melowi growled as the people took their weapons away. He held his ground, eyes assessing each. Jiya knew he was planning how to kill each and every one of those in the room.
Jiya swallowed a sigh of relief that he didn’t act.
With the pistol pressed to her temple, she knew that any resistance would end with a smoking hole in her skull.
Not exactly how she wanted to finish her day.
Besides, she was sure these people weren’t who President Jaer Pon claimed they were.
“You’re not the Knights of the Orau, are you?” she asked.
The person with the gun to her head laughed and pulled it away, although he still aimed it in her direction.
“Knights of the what?” he asked.
“Orau,” Geroux clarified. “It’s who we were told was operating out of this building.”
The local grinned widely. “If those so-called Knights live here, we need to start charging the bastards rent.”
“The only place they’re living is in the head of Jaer Pon,” Ko stated, shaking his head. He looked at Val. “I told you about what happened at the compound. Why would the cultists go after these people unless they were a threat to the president? He had to have hired them.”
“Wait,” Jiya said, turning to face Ko. “You think the president sent the assassins after us?”
“Assassins?” Tog asked, laughing, the sound rough, like two rocks grinding together. “I’d hardly call that lot of malcontents assassins.”
“I’m confused,” Geroux said.
“You’re not the only one,” Jiya mumbled, looking at the people surrounding them and Ko and Val.
“Why don’t you explain it, Roe?” Ko suggested, gesturing to the person who had held his gun to Jiya’s head.
“I don’t think it’s my place to do so,” he countered, “but I’m thinking Lek would want to meet these folks in person.”
“Lek?” Ka’nak asked.
“Our leader,” Val explained.
“Yeah, how about you give him a call?” Jiya said, hoping to buy some time to figure everything out.
The Krokans laughed at her, Roe shaking his head, eyes bright with amusement.
“Lek’s not somebody you call,” he answered, although Jiya noted he didn’t explain why not.
“You think this is a good idea?” Ko asked.
“Lek’ll let us know soon enough,” Roe replied. “Get these folks suited up.”
“Suited up?” Jiya asked. “I don’t understand.”
Roe gestured to their armor. “Well, you can’t go into the water wearing that.”
“Not unless you’re looking to drown,” Tog added with a laugh.
“I guess we’re taking a swim, then,” Jiya muttered.
While it was better than being shot, this wasn’t how she’d imagined ending her day either.
But if that was where the mission took her, so be it. Reynolds had said to get information without hurting anyone.
Now more than ever, she wanted to know what the hell was going on in this crazy underwater city.
“The water’s not going to smell like dead fish, is it?” she asked.
Roe chuckled. “Only if you take a really deep breath.”
Jiya didn’t smile, activating her implant instead and keeping her message short. We’re being taken by the building’s inhabitants into the ocean. They’ve never heard of the Knights. No locals were harmed in the creation of this message.
Good job. Keep me informed, Reynolds replied before cutting the link.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jora’nal paced the bridge of the Pillar, his fury still raging.
He’d chased his crew away, except for a few key members. They knew to keep their distance and let him vent his anger in the fits and tirades that helped him calm himself.
With no one but himself to blame for the failure to recognize that the SD Reynolds had been orbiting Krokus 1 or the defeat he suffered at their hands, he’d forced everyone off the bridge to keep from killing someone he might need at a later time.
Besides, the deck was beginning to retain the sickly color of blood no matter how much effort the crew had put into cleaning it.
So many people had died on their knees before him.
Normally, the memories of each punishing moment would sustain him and invigorate him, but not today. No, today he had failed and would have to stand before the Voice to explain himself.
It was not a task he relished, since it could very well be him staining the deck with his blood; Phraim-’Eh asking for the ultimate sacrifice of his disciple.
Jora’nal prayed that would not come to pass, but could he blame his master, were that to be his punishment?
No, he didn’t think he could, especially given the number of lives that had ended at his hands.
“Incoming contact,” XO H’ron announced from his place across the bridge.
Jora’nal drew a deep breath and despised the way it tasted. Would it be his last?
“Onscreen,” he ordered.
There was little point in delaying. If Phraim-’Eh wanted him dead, that was simply how it would be. There was no place in the universe where he would be safe from his god’s righteous vengeance.
The face of the Voice of Phraim-’Eh appeared on the screen. Although Jora’nal could not read anything his stoic expression, hard lines staring back, Jora’nal felt the disappointment across the vast expanse of space.
“Master,” Jora’nal said reverently, bowing his head and waiting for the Voice to speak.
“I can only hope your failure here is not going to become a habit, Jora’nal,” the Voice told him.
“No, Master. A setback, nothing more,” Jora’nal explained.
He hated the sound of his groveling voice, but he knew well the consequences of displeasing Phraim-’Eh and those who served the god.
“Let that be true, for our god is not a merciful one, lest you have forgotten,” the Voice went on.
“I have not, Master, and this will not happen again,” Jora’nal assured his deity’s mouthpiece. “We have agents on the ground with the Federation scum, working to bring them down. We will have them soon enough.”
The Voice nodded, leaving the threat of his silence hanging in the air a momen
t.
“An agent of our god will be in touch soon, Jora’nal,” the Voice revealed. “You and they might well find solace in your mutual cause, and possibly inspiration as well.”
“Yes, Master,” Jora’nal answered, bowing.
“Continue your mission, and I will relay your thoughts to our lord.”
The screen flickered, and the image of the Voice of Phraim-’Eh vanished into blackness.
Jora’nal staggered back to his seat, dropping into it hard.
Not only had he disappointed his god, but now another agent of Phraim-’Eh had been put into play.
The fact that this agent was to meet with Jora’nal sent a chill down his spine. There was no secret to this agent’s agenda.
What other reason is there but to kill me?
No, Jora’nal thought, shaking off his fear. Phraim-’Eh needed no such mundane subterfuge to achieve his will. He need only to ask Jora’nal to take his own life and he would, willingly, like a zealot at the gates of the great beyond.
No, if Phraim-’Eh wanted Jora’nal to meet this agent, it was because their goals collided, crossed paths, and their meeting would compound the suffering the Federation AI Reynolds was to suffer at their hands.
A thrill set his blood alight and he straightened in his seat, grinning. “Set a course for Ol’fer Prime,” he ordered. “There is much to be done to the Pillar before we meet the SD Reynolds in battle again.”
This time it will not be the Pillar that flees, he thought.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jiya was both excited and terrified by the massive ocean that enveloped her.
The Krokans had provided skintight suits and a breathing apparatus for the crew, which was built into the narrow helmet she’d squeezed her head into.
Geroux had argued fearfully about the pressure of the water but the Krokans had laughed her off, assuring her the suits would sustain them. Geroux hadn’t been sure until Val explained how each generated its own personal energy field, much like the one that surrounded the city and kept the ocean at bay.
Although the smaller field didn’t keep the water out, it did keep the pressure from crushing them into a bloody pulp inside their suits.
Jiya wasn’t confident that would be the case when they were loaded into a room that looked as if it were an air bubble—much like the craft that had brought them to the city—and the door had sealed behind them.
The tiny room looked out into the ocean, and the sharp contrast of a wall of water and the dilapidated house on the other side was jarring.
The same was true of her senses.
One minute she could smell the briny water, the trademark stink of the ocean, then the bubble opened and the ocean rushed in to swallow her whole.
Then she could smell and hear nothing.
The pressure of the water grabbed her and squeezed and she tightened her muscles against it, knowing there was nothing she could do to prevent the water from crushing her if that were its desire.
Yet it didn’t.
It buoyed her, lifted her along with the others. She felt light and weightless, as if the whole world floated around her.
Roe waved at her and kicked free of the bubble, slipping into the vast depths of the ocean. The others followed, but it took a moment before Jiya chased after them.
Roe pulled Geroux with her as they slipped into the water, bumping into something she couldn’t quite make out in the blur of her vision.
She saw Roe grin and extend a hand to them.
A moment later he pulled them onto what appeared to be a platform made of glass, though Jiya knew that couldn’t be the case.
It was clear—see-through to the point of being almost invisible—yet it was physically there. She could feel it beneath her feet, the solidness of it.
Then it started moving.
Ka’nak dropped onto his ass with wide eyes peering into the deep. Tog steadied him, but the Melowi warrior remained where he sat.
Jiya wanted to laugh, but she knew damn well her face was making the same pained, ugly grimace as his.
Geroux trembled against Jiya, but the young tech looked like her uncle Takal right then. Her face hid the fear, reflecting only her urge to learn and experience the moment and study the technology that made it all possible.
She was taking it in as if they were on some sort of pleasure cruise.
Maybe we are, Jiya thought.
She was still quite confused, but she thought things were beginning to make sense at last.
Of course, she could be wrong, but she didn’t think she was.
Still, she’d have to wait until they met with Lek to be certain.
She wondered how long the trip would take and decided then to stop worrying about it and enjoy it for what it was—an experience she might never again have.
That thought motivating her, she rode the rest of the silent trip with a smile on her face.
The journey ended far too soon for Jiya’s liking.
The same couldn’t be said for Ka’nak.
The nearly invisible ship that carried them bumped into a bubble of the same material, which was set into the side of an underwater mountain.
From this close, the entrance looked as if it might only be a slight cleft in the mountainside, perhaps a slice of the ground having slid away, but once they slipped into the bubble and it sealed behind them, the entrance became much, much more.
The water drained from the bubble, leaving the crew and the Krokans standing there dripping. Ka’nak ripped off his mask and sucked in a deep breath as if he’d been holding his for the hours it had taken to arrive there.
“How the hell can you people stand that all the time?” he asked, his chest a bellows as he struggled to regulate his breathing.
“We’ve lived here our entire lives,” Val explained with a shrug. “It’s second nature to us. We don’t give it a second thought.”
“Remind me to vacation somewhere else,” Ka’nak growled. “I thought for sure that giant fish we saw was going to eat us.”
Tog laughed. “Don’t worry, you’re made of meat,” he explained, unable to contain his grin. “Those Whels only eat the plants that fill the waters.”
“That monstrous thing only eats plants?” Ka’nak asked, eyes still shining.
“Well, on purpose, at least,” Tog clarified.
Roe grinned. “Stop antagonizing him, Tog. Lek’s waiting for us.”
The bubble opened a passageway into the side of the mountain. The Krokans exited and motioned for the crew to follow.
This time the crew was quick to scramble out, desperate for the feel of solid ground beneath their feet.
The rest removed their masks and hung them on hooks jutting out of the stony wall. Roe led them down a broad tunnel that seemed to go on forever.
Jiya marveled at her surroundings, realizing that she was walking inside a mountain at the bottom of a massive ocean.
The experience was surreal, and she wondered what kind of technology kept the place from collapsing in on itself.
The air smelled fresher there than it had in town. She noted an earthy scent mixed with the water’s salty brine, and it was far from unpleasant.
It smelled like a garden after a long night’s rain, fresh and enticing. The scent called to her.
Roe and the Krokans seemed to relax once they were inside the underwater mountain. Jiya had a pretty good idea why.
Before, the crew could have run; could have escaped. Now there was nowhere to go that didn’t dump them into the ocean.
That’s one hell of a security system, she thought.
As they walked, they passed other Krokans, but the similarities ended at the obvious sharing of the race.
These people were bright-eyed, smiling, and happy. They looked well-fed and content, and they were dressed in a variety of clothing that didn’t speak of hard times or necessity.
They seemed to dress to flatter their appearance, which caught Jiya and the others off-guard.
There was no sign of the constant war-footing that eclipsed the joy in the city. Here the people were far from the war and its foul effects.
“Different, huh?” Roe asked, seeing Jiya looking about in wonder.
“It is…” she admitted, wanting to say more but not finding the words to adequately explain her feelings.
“This is what it should be back in the city,” Roe said, and his grin faltered.
Jiya spied a sparkle of frustration in his eyes before he looked away.
“We’re here,” he announced after a moment of silence.
The huge tunnel gave way to a giant cavern of a room. Alcoves were carved into the walls like apartments scaling a naturally formed building. Drapes and variously colored sheets hung over the openings to maintain a modicum of privacy, but the majority had been flung open to the world.
Hundreds of people milled about in the various alcoves. Below, a great valley opened up, sporting a miniature city of its own, rooftops and roadways visible from where they perched in the cavern’s elevated opening.
“This place goes deeper?” Geroux wondered, barely able to get her tongue to form the question.
“It does,” Val confirmed, “although the town center there is as far as most of the residents will ever go.”
Roe motioned for the group to veer to the right, where another of the alcoves awaited. He pulled aside the thick leather drapes that sealed it and ushered them inside. The crew stepped into the room to find a meeting hall of some kind, fairly small compared to the mess hall aboard the SD Reynolds.
A table was central to the room, and chairs circled it. Roe gestured for the crew to take seats.
Almost as soon as they did, a curtained alcove at the far end of the room whipped open and an older female walked out. Dressed in soft, silky robes, her long gray hair was pulled back into a tight braid behind her head, making her features look severe and sharp.
The lack of a smile on her face did nothing to disabuse Jiya of the respect this person commanded.
She came over and stood at the opposite end of the table, not bothering to take a seat.
“Lek,” Roe began, “these are the off-worlders I spoke of. The ones who came to trade with Jaer Pon. Meet Jiya, Geroux, and Ka’nak.”
