Shit . . . He had no idea what role Hatwa women played inside their clan. Jema women were warriors, and one of them would be a legitimate target. For all he knew, abducting a young girl from the Hatwa would be a crime her village elders would never forgive. They needed allies, not a blood feud. It all went through his head in a half second before he slowly sank back down on his knee in the darkness behind the line of barrels.
The girl finished her business and ran out the door just as quickly as she’d run in. He watched her disappear back into her house and patted himself on the back for being a good guy. There’d been more than a few times in his life when he couldn’t have said that. In the same mental cycle, he was already kicking himself for letting her go; he hated going back empty-handed. Knowing he was pressed for time; he ignored the game trail he’d used on the way in and beelined it through the woods to where he was certain his beach was.
He was making good time and had noticed the wind and rain were starting to weaken when he broke out into a clearing full of sheep. He didn’t even need the NVG monocle to spot the dim light cast by a small fire under a ragged-looking canopy, rigged between the trees at the far edge of the clearing. He moved back into the tree line and skirted around the edge of the small pasture until he was close enough to see the face of the figure on the far side of the firepit. A male, late teens or early twenties, he thought. Perfect. As long as there wasn’t a dog.
He was pretty sure there wasn’t; if there was, it was a worthless guard dog. He’d moved up slowly, the noise from the remaining drizzle, wind, and the crackling of the wet wood in the fire masking his approach. He pulled his 9mm with its suppressor and took the last two steps out from behind a tree into the light. The shepherd panicked, and fell back on his ass as he attempted to come to his feet.
“I mean you no harm, Hatwa. The Kaerin have need of you.”
Audy had made him practice the statement before they’d boarded the boat, assuring him that the locals here would have had very little contact with a Kaerin High Blood. The very name, High Blood, pissed him off. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t use it if it worked. If it didn’t, he had zip ties and duct tape with him.
The shepherd took him in with a mouth frozen in shock; wet suit, black boots, knife, and the strange weapons. It was clear it was not something the man had seen before. Learned behavior won out . . .
“I . . . serve.”
God, he couldn’t wait to meet some of these Kaerin assholes for a debate on cultural supremacy.
“You will come with me, now.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the beach. “If you serve well, you will be returned unharmed. Now, come.”
“Where?”
Some kind of High Blood he was; he was a hair away from being lost.
He pointed behind him. “The fastest way to the beach in that direction, you lead. Go.”
The man paused to pick up his bouma blade, and he draped the sheath belt over his shoulder. He knew from the Jema that the Kaerin’s allowance of the short blade among the subject clans was in itself a message. One meant to emphasize Kaerin superiority; we’ll allow you to carry your pitiful blade; it is nothing to us.
The man glanced back at his herd for a short moment in worry.
“Now, Hatwa.”
Jake wondered how many other homesteads this larger island supported, and if sheep rustling was in fashion.
The man led off through the woods, in almost the direction he’d been headed. There’d be time enough for questions once he got the man back to the Jema. Audy could figure out how to handle it.
*
Chapter 10
Island of Landing, Middle Sea, Chandra
“Lord . . . again, it appears to operate with the same impetus as many of the other devices; an electrical battery, but of a type we cannot fathom. My team is still working on trying to fashion a charging device.”
Amona watched Lord Tima pick up the strange weapon and hold it against his shoulder, sighting down the barrel, ignoring the Kaerin Gemendi who had offered his weak explanation. He could have imparted the same information to Lord Tima himself a week ago, but he hadn’t been asked. Amona wasn’t about to begin volunteering information; there were more than enough Gemendi throughout the pavilion complex, High Blood and subject race alike, who were falling over one another to gain favor with the new lord of Landing.
Two such favor-seeking Gemendi had been removed from the project already. Both of them subject races; one, a Hinga from the far east, another a Jehavian from the large clan indigenous to the area surrounding the Kaerin capital city of Kaerus. They’d overpromised, and failed to deliver. Their most recent excuses had been their last. Lord Tima had them executed with a quickness and efficiency that he seemed to bring to all of his work. No torture, just a quick march outside and two bullets delivered to the backs of their heads. Lord Tima had asked him to personally see that their bodies were dumped offshore by one of the many fishing boats that helped feed the burgeoning population of the island. He understood the intended message behind Lord Tima’s action. He wasn’t interested in or impressed with empty promises. The Gemendi cadre working with the ancient equipment had been much more focused since.
“The battery is made up of some type of crystalline matrix, my Lord.” Amona could hear the nervousness in the voice of the elder Tarnesian Gemendi, Barrisimo, as the man tried to explain the battery technology that had so far stymied all of them. Amona was surprised that the pair of Kaerin Gemendi, whom Barrisimo reported to, remained silent and let their charge speak.
Amona was no longer the sole member of the Hijala on the island. He was not yet sure that was a good thing. Of the three other Hijala members among the small army of subject race Gemendi now residing here, Barrisimo was the only one he’d had a chance to speak to. Barrisimo’s haughty attitude of superiority during that short conversation stood in sharp contrast to how the old Gemendi now spoke to Lord Tima. The scholar resembled a dog who knew it was about to be kicked. Amona wondered if they all, himself included, looked like that.
“It is an entirely different construction from our own batteries, which as you know are based on opposing metals and charging fluids.” He couldn’t fault Barrisimo’s courage in speaking.
Lord Tima lowered the weapon and nodded at the fellow subject after a moment of reflection. “What would you recommend as a direction of inquiry?”
“Lord?”
Lord Tima just glared at Barrisimo, who was old enough to be his father.
Amona would have felt sorry for Barrisimo had he not been more worried that he was about to lose a fellow member of the Hijala, one who was now the most senior member of the secret group on the island.
“Lord.” Barrisimo bowed his head. “My limited expertise, such as it is, revolves around the electrical properties of different metals and alloys. I think someone with a familiarity in crystals, perhaps in the harmonic properties of the same, may . . . may, my Lord, be able to assist in this.”
Lord Tima gave the answer a moment’s thought and then nodded as he placed the strange-looking and ancient rifle back on the table.
He clapped Barrisimo on the shoulder. “That is the kind of thinking we need. I doubt if anything we learn will be through a single line of inquiry; everything, it seems, depends on something else. You’ll lead that team.” Lord Tima dismissed the pair of Kaerin Gemendi with a nod of his head. Kaerin or not, the two men were anxious to get out from under the questioning glare of the Lord who controlled all of their lives.
Lord Tima turned back to Barrisimo. “Amona here will see to it that you have what you require.”
“My Lord.” Barrisimo bowed again in acceptance, visibly relieved, and glowing from the praise.
Amona wasn’t certain Barrisimo realized what came with that added responsibility. After his own private conversation with the man, he knew Barrisimo wasn’t stupid. Far from it; just shortsighted and able to ignore anything that wasn’t directly in front of him. Anything that wasn’t related to the pu
rsuit of knowledge was, for men like Barrisimo, mere noise.
And now Lord Tima had shown his good will, his willingness to elevate a subject Gemendi. Such was this strange lord’s way. He was fair; he had High Blood Gemendi working as hard as any of the subject races. If anything, he held them to a higher standard. Though, if a Kaerin Gemendi failed, the worst that would happen was that they would be sent packing, and would return to their previous post. Perhaps they’d carry a loss of status or a curtailment of future opportunities, but they’d live. The two weighted bodies feeding crabs at the bottom of the bay represented a different kind of motivation for every subject Gemendi here.
Lord Tima turned to him and pointed at Barrisimo. “Let me know if we need someone we don’t have.”
“I will, my Lord.”
They watched Lord Tima as he stalked off in the direction of the ancient flying machines at the other end of the pavilion, leaving the two of them staring at each other in shared relief.
“I confess,” Barrisimo whispered after a moment, “I thought your description of the man to be exaggerated.”
He shook his head once. “No.”
“Our new master is driven. There is no denying that.” Barrisimo was of the type who always agreed with himself. “Yet I see none of this fear or desperation you mentioned. He’s a High Blood lord, new to his position, a favorite of the prelate. I would imagine he has much to deliver, to live up to.”
“He’s dangerous in a way the Kaerin have not been since the early days of their invasion.”
“Bah!” Barrisimo waved away the concern. “When you’ve served them as long as I have, you’ll realize they all have their own masters as well.”
It took a prodigious effort to keep from reaching out and trying to shake some sense into the old man. He’d briefed Barrisimo on his overheard discussion. The old man and the other two Hijala Gemendi now present on the island had already been en route when his message had gone out. He could only hope there were senior Gemendi left with their respective clans who were also Hijala. Someone to carry on and disseminate the first message of hope this world had seen in a thousand years. The message had been entirely lost on the old man in front of him.
“These free people, whoever they are, have them worried, in particular where the prelate is concerned,” he tried again. “I assure you, the pressure on Lord Tima is due to that. The man cares not a whit for his standing among the Kaerin.”
Barrisimo looked back at him as if he had three heads.
“You are suggesting what? That we rebel? We’d be crushed, Amona. The knowledge we have gained over the centuries, lost for all time.” Barrisimo waved at the work stations scattered through the caverns that honeycombed the entire island. “No subject Gemendi would ever get access to this technology or these tools ever again.”
Amona waited as another group of subject Gemendi walked past them, heads bowed in discussion regarding technical matters that had never interested him.
“If they defeat these free people, I fear Lord Tima has a permanent solution in mind for the rest of us. He believes we, the subject people of Chandra, to be an even larger threat over the long term.” He’d said this all before; he’d hoped the old man would have been convinced after a conversation with Lord Tima.
“Perhaps over the very long term,” Barrisimo admitted grudgingly. “In the short term, though, we are in the perfect place to learn all we can. Perhaps gain an advantage of our own, working with technology that the High Bloods themselves don’t fully understand.”
Amona bowed his head once in acquiescence, wanting to scream. Subject race Gemendi had possessed much of the same knowledge base as the Kaerin for at least the last three centuries. Yet they were no closer today to being able to free themselves than their ancestors had been centuries ago. They were, if anything, less able. Their ancestors had held a memory of being free.
For Amona, this was no longer about learning Kaerin tricks to eventually defeat them. That had been the dream of his predecessors who had founded the Hijala. Those same defeated people, the first of the subject Gemendi, could not have imagined how complete the Kaerin control would become. Not just in fact, but in the minds of the conquered; like that of the old man standing in front of him. For Barrisimo, the very thought the Kaerin could be threatened was alien.
He knew when to quit. “I will, of course, bow to your seniority in this,” he answered. “Perhaps I have given too much weight as to why the Kaerin are so suddenly concerned with increasing their capability.” He nodded to himself as he withdrew the small bound notebook that had ordered and driven his busy days since Lord Tima’s arrival.
“Who did you have in mind to assist you in your work on these rifle batteries?”
“I realize your role within the Gemendi is in administration, Amona.” Barrisimo added with a kindlier tone, as if delivering a lesson to a hotheaded pupil. “Lord Tima understands the real issue. It’s not just about these strange rifles. If we can learn the technology behind the batteries, the ability to store that kind of energy can be used to power all of the devices in the pavilion.”
Barrisimo took half a step towards him with his head bowed, whispering; “to have the knowledge of the Kaerin ancestors in our hands? We’ll learn so much, Amona. When you think about it, it’s really quite foolish of them to let us assist them in this work.”
Amona nodded in feigned acceptance. This wasn’t an argument he was going to win, and it wasn’t Lord Tima and Lord Noka who struck him as foolish.
“You are correct, of course. Did you have names in mind?”
He wrote out a list as the old man rattled off names. Names of Gemendi who would be sent for and delivered to his prison. He was thinking that his hopes of finding a kindred spirit among the Hijala members who had been sent to the island may have been just a dream. For his part, Barrisimo was a Gemendi, first and foremost. The old man was a Hijala only by tradition, by blood right passed down from his predecessor. He’d forgotten why it had been created in the first place.
That left just two others that he could go to for help. He didn’t yet know either of them. That would have to change. He now knew who they were, he’d recognized the innocuous looking swipe of ink they’d left in their written reports. A benign sign that would have been recognized only by someone looking of it. One thing he was certain of; he’d need to make contact with them without Barrisimo finding out. He was not too worried about that happening. Barrisimo would be working diligently to learn all he could about ancient Kaerin power systems.
*
Idaho, Earth
“We’re getting close,” Danny said.
Derrick hoped that was true. Denise had been a trooper so far, but she was tired.
“Based on what, dumbass?” Josh fired back.
By this point in the trip, he’d learned to ignore the banter between the two Carlisle brothers.
“Look at your feet, shit stick,” Danny replied, kicking at something.
“Hey, there’s an old rail track here,” Josh announced as if he’d just discovered it himself.
Derrick knelt and brushed the loose dirt away until he uncovered the rusted remnants of rails not much more than a foot apart.
“Narrow gauge, just like the old man said,” he half mumbled.
“You sound surprised.” Danny was looking at him.
“The guy’s a mystery, wrapped in a conundrum, motivated by secrets.”
Danny’s face screwed up a little. “And that means?”
“You never know if you’re getting the whole story,” Denise answered as she walked up to join them.
Danny shrugged. “Seems like he’s been shooting straight with this.”
“It does,” Derrick agreed, coming to his feet, his eyes following Josh as the cowboy continued ahead heading upstream.
He turned to look at his beautiful wife. “Tell us if you need a break.”
“I’m good,” she replied with a smile. “Feels good to be walking, as long as we move slow like this
.”
“You sure, Miss Denise?” Danny asked. “We’re close; we can rest a bit.”
Denise smiled at him and then at Danny. “I’m sure . . .”
“Found it!” Josh’s shout boomed through the canyon from where he’d gotten out ahead of the rest of them. The former bull rider doubled down to make sure. “It’s right here! I see it!”
Danny just glanced at them both and shook his head. “You should have heard him on Christmas mornings. Every year, surprised as shit Santa thought he’d been good.”
The mine’s entrance was pretty much where Sir Geoff had said it would be. Perhaps a little more uphill from the creek than the description had led him to believe, but this had to be it.
Danny gripped the steel mesh door and shook it violently, for a lot longer than it would have taken the average person to determine that the entrance was very much secured.
“Tighter than a gnat’s ass,” Danny announced with certainty.
“Maybe I should give it a try,” Josh offered.
“Guys,” Denise almost shouted. “We have the combo.”
Josh puffed up his chest and glared at his brother. “I still think I should try.”
Kyle just shook his head. He’d heard enough. He double-checked where everyone’s hands were in relation to their guns from where he, Jeff, and Dom hid behind the new arrivals. He pressed the squelch button on his radio one time. Jensen was paying attention and triggered the mine’s security gate from their makeshift control room within the mine.
Surprised, the strange group who had found this place had all their attention focused on the whirring sound of the gate retracting, as he stood and stepped out from where he’d been hiding behind a boulder. Dom was to his left, Jeff on his right.
“Drop your guns,” he shouted. “We’ll let you in.”
Their surprise was complete; hesitating at first, the black guy nodded at his wife, and they dropped their assault rifles.
New Shores: The Eden Chronicles - Book Three Page 13
