by Gun Brooke
“Moon?” Beaux frowned as she studied her. “Isn’t it time you tell me who you are and why you’re here alone, without your people?”
The turbulent feelings competing for dominance inside her made Moon angry. She had harbored a secret rage for so many years while on the cruise ships, and the way Beaux was pressuring her finally brought it to the surface. “Enough with the questions,” she snapped. “I’m going to follow you until you can find your way.”
“If you’re alone and want to come into contact with relatives or friends, I can help you.” Beaux clearly wasn’t about to give up.
“I said, enough.” Moon moved to the branches and pushed through them. “I’m going to get some more water. Dancer. Watch her.” She knew Dancer picked up on her tone and wouldn’t let Beaux move a muscle.
Feeling like stomping, but knowing that could be the last thing she did if it attracted unwanted attention, Moon crept over to the water gatherers. The ones she’d planted just inside the cave were temporarily depleted, perhaps due to their relocation. Realizing that she hadn’t brought the bottle, Moon picked four of them and carried them gently back to the cave. As she neared it, she heard a soft murmur from inside. Curious, Moon tiptoed and made sure she didn’t step on any dry twigs. Stopping close enough to hear better, she could hear Beaux speaking quietly. Had she gotten the broken communicator to work after all? She walked closer.
“Dancer, huh? What kind of name is that? I’ve seen you move. You’re fast, but a dancer? I don’t think so.” Beaux chuckled. “Your eyes are beautiful, but that nose—is it supposed to look like that? Flat, I mean? Or did something happen to you?”
Dancer huffed.
“Sorry. Touchy subject? Well, as you insist on getting into my face with that snout, you have to excuse me for having opinions.”
The rage inside Moon had already lessened, but now it poured off her like the water in the lake yesterday morning. She made sure they heard her arrive and entered the cave. “Here. Got you some fresh water. You lost some blood, and you need the fluids.”
Beaux squinted at her. “You seem to know quite a bit about a lot of things. Not going to pry, I promise, but I appreciate being on the receiving end of your knowledge.”
“I read a lot.” Again with the too-much-sharing. Moon handed two of the water gatherers to Beaux. “Here.”
Beaux looked puzzled at the colorful balls. “And these are?”
“Water gatherers. You tilt them and drink from the top. If you use them in nature while on the planet, don’t pick them like I had to do right now. Just tilt them carefully where they are.” And why the hell did she tell Beaux about these things? It wasn’t as if the captain would remain on Haven for any length of time. Or was that wishful thinking?
Beaux sipped hesitantly from the flower. “This is the same taste as the water in the bottle you gave me.” She gulped down the last of the first ball’s contents. “Do they collect rainwater and store it?”
“No. They use the water from the ground via their roots.” It was simply too irresistible to not share with someone else the many wonderful things Moon had learned about Haven after she arrived. “They keep the water inside the ball-shaped petals, and it seems to stay fresh for a long time. Once it is expelled, and even small animals know to drink with care from it, the plant fills up again. In the colder season, they wither, of course. But then there’s snow to melt.” Moon shrugged.
“Clearly this planet has a unique ecosystem,” Beaux said. “When we landed, the first thing I noticed was how sweet the air smells. Perhaps that’s part of why the water tastes so fresh, almost sweet, as well.”
Moon almost said she had the same reaction when she stepped out of her escape pod, but she reeled herself in. She peered through the branches. “If you truly need to go back to your camp tonight, we should leave. It gets dark fast here, once the sun starts setting.”
“Sounds good to me.” Beaux gave her a curious glance as they crawled through the branches. Dancer kept close to them, but his keen senses obviously didn’t give him any reason to growl. Outside, Beaux rose slowly to her feet. She looked unsteady but merely straightened her back. “Can you take off the bandage, please?”
“It’s too soon,” Moon said. “You may start to bleed again.”
“But if I show up with a bandage made of material from this planet, it will raise questions. I’ll have a hard time explaining my sudden knowledge of indigenous medicinal plants.” Smiling faintly, Beaux motioned at the forest around them. “Truthfully, this is my first real nature experience. I’m more used to pills, shots, bone mergers, and skin meshing.”
Thinking fast, Moon wondered why Beaux would want to keep her presence a secret. “Thank you,” she said slowly and stepped up on a low boulder right next to Beaux. “Stand still. If you bleed as much as you did before, this stays on, and you can explain it any way you want or toss it before you reach the camp.”
“Fine.”
Moon untangled the thin vines and placed them over her shoulder while she carefully lifted the leaves. The bruising looked so much worse now, but the bleeding had stopped. Whether the moisture seeping from these leaves as soon as they were touched or the pressure bandage had caused the favorable reaction, that was anybody’s guess. “It seems to be holding for now, but if it starts again, you need to deal with it. It’s too dark to find any more of the leaves, or I could have given you some to press against it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse things happen.” Beaux shrugged.
Moon stared at her. “No doubt. But not in a completely alien forest among predators and surrounded by people out to kill you, all at the same time, perhaps.”
Beaux grimaced. “As much as I hate admitting it…you’re right.”
Moon nodded and then turned to Dancer. “Anything growl-worthy, boy?”
Dancer sniffed the air and then looked at her with his tongue lolling.
“Damn. I take it that’s a no?” Beaux snorted.
“It is.” Reaching into the cave, Moon grabbed her backpack and pulled it on. “Come on. Let me know if you feel ill.”
“Of course.” Beaux spoke seriously, but Moon could easily detect that she hid amusement. Beaux still hadn’t gotten it. The woman had been meters away from a brummer, nearly assassinated, and severely injured, yet she found it all right to act as if she were humoring Moon. Well, Beaux wouldn’t be her problem in a little while. She would return to her crew, and Moon would continue her plan to sabotage enough of Ilienta’s business on Haven to make it impossible for them to continue. She wasn’t crazy. She knew very well that it might be a futile undertaking—one woman against hundreds of people—but she had to try.
They started walking along the rocks, keeping pressed against them for protection.
“Hey. Any night-glow feature on your ocular?” Beaux murmured from behind her.
“No.” Moon couldn’t remember when Beaux might have seen her instrument. Perhaps the telltale outline on one of her leg pockets was enough.
“Pity.”
Moon took the route back to the camp that was the easiest for Beaux to manage, for the most part, rather than the fastest, which she deemed too steep for the woman who would never admit to being dizzy and who also limped. After two hundred or so meters, Moon knew they had no choice but to climb up beside another protruding rock. She turned her head over her shoulder and extended her hand. “Take my hand. It’s going to be hard.” She fully expected Beaux to refuse. She was stubborn like no other person Moon had ever met, but also Moon couldn’t shake the feeling that Beaux would figure out she was really a slave and loathe to touch her.
Beaux hesitated but gripped Moon’s hands tight. “Thanks.”
Something happened in that moment. A tiny little knot deep in Moon’s chest dislodged, dropped, and fizzled into nothing. Afraid that Beaux would sense the magnitude of that knot, she steadily pulled her along behind her as she followed Dancer up the narrow slit between two rocks. When they were nearly at the
top, Beaux yanked hard at Moon’s hand, and she realized Beaux was slipping. Swiveling, she gripped Beaux’s hand with both of hers and held on. Behind her, she felt Dancer dig his teeth into her holster. He pulled and growled, far too loud, but Moon didn’t care. If she dropped Beaux and she hit her head again, even if the fall wouldn’t be as bad as before, she could suffer permanent damage. Many times, Moon had assisted guests venturing into the adventure halls on the ship and trying rock climbing. She had seen what could happen when the fools ignored the safety procedures.
Moon held on hard to Beaux’s hand, and dread filled her when her feet began to slip. She tugged harder at Beaux and managed to grasp her sleeve, which was easier to maintain a grip on. Finally, with Dancer’s assistance, she managed to pull Beaux upright, and barely thinking about it, she wrapped her left arm around Beaux’s waist while finding a small crevice in the rock to hold on to with her right.
“Damn,” Beaux whispered and fumbled for a hold on the rock. “That…was close.”
“You’re all right.” Moon trembled and hoped Beaux wouldn’t notice. It felt far too personal to tremble and show that type of reaction toward another person. Going from being amazed by the touch of a hand to full body contact had her entire mind reeling. With only vague memories of her mother’s embrace, she felt like her senses were overloaded. After she felt sure Beaux had really found her footing, she eased back. “We’re almost at the top.”
“Good. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some flat ground.” Beaux was still out of breath.
They climbed the last part, Moon now with a death grip on Beaux’s sleeve. When they reached the top, Beaux sat down on a boulder and drew a trembling breath. “You have saved me twice now.”
“Wrong. Dancer saved us both. If he hadn’t practically hauled us up by my holster, we’d both be nursing broken limbs, at best.”
Beaux regarded Dancer with something resembling affection. “I admit he’s starting to grow on me.” She touched her temple and looked at her fingertips. “A little blood, but not much. After that moment of ‘this is how I die,’ I’m glad it isn’t worse.”
Moon opened her mouth to reply, but Dancer began to growl and grew rigid against her. “Someone’s coming!” After pulling Beaux to her feet, Moon began moving toward a large group of trees. “In here. Hurry!” She turned to make sure Dancer wasn’t improvising, but he was dutifully following them in among the branches. Moon made sure they stood in the thickest of the foliage. A large group of individuals was approaching. Was it Beaux’s crew—or Ilienta’s?
Chapter Nine
The voices grew closer, and although they were clearly staying muted, Beaux could tell it was her crew. Still, she remained hidden in the grove of trees, aligning her sore body with one of the bigger trunks. Next to her, Moon raised her ocular.
“What do you see?” Beaux whispered, even though she knew the oculars were not outfitted with the nightglow feature.
“Very faintly, ten humans moving in formation.” Moon took the ocular from her eye. “I can’t see anyone else.”
“All right. Let’s wait for them to come closer.” Clinging to the trunk, Beaux listened as the footfalls neared.
“Here,” Moon said from behind and nudged something hard and cold against her hand. Touching it hesitantly, Beaux recognized her custom-made sidearm.
“Thanks.” When Beaux judged her crew was some twenty meters away, she gave a low, long whistle. This was not part of their survival and combat training, but if any of her close friends were among the ten, they would recognize the sound.
The steps came to a halt. For a moment, silence reigned, but then another whistle, sounding like a husky Cimerian dove, erupted from the group.
“It’s them!” Beaux whispered to Moon, and when she didn’t reply, she turned to nudge her—and Moon had vanished. “Moon?” Raising her voice only slightly, Beaux looked around the dense trunks, frowning. Moon had been there only moments ago. Now there was no sign of her, or of Dancer.
“Captain?” a male voice said in a low voice. “You there?”
Somas. Beaux stepped out from the trees and began walking toward the group of men and women standing in a defensive position with their weapons ready. “Somas. Yes, it’s me.” Beaux looked back over her shoulder again, but now it was close to pitch-black, and she could barely make out the trees. How the hell had Moon managed to disappear as if she had never existed. And that big oaf, Dancer? It didn’t make sense.
“Thank the old gods that we found you.” Somas hurried toward her and wrapped her in a crushing hug, only to let go of her instantly when she yelped. “You’re injured, sir.”
“Nothing that a strong ale and some painkillers can’t fix.” Beaux straightened. “I need that and a situation report.”
“The camp is only a couple of hundred meters due north of here. We have a lot to tell you—and something warns me your day hasn’t been entirely uneventful.”
Was it just one day? Beaux felt as if she had been in the forest with Moon for much longer than that. She walked next to Somas amid the group of twelve of her crew, content to let them handle security and make sure they got back uninjured. Listening absentmindedly at how Somas paged Veyar and gave him the good news of her being found alive, Beaux couldn’t stop thinking about Moon. Where had she gone to? Obviously Moon didn’t want anyone else to see her. The vanishing act she had performed while standing right next to Beaux was impressive. The night was so quiet, and Beaux couldn’t understand why she hadn’t heard any leaves rustle or twigs snap.
Beaux pushed the image of the woman with the long ponytail out of her mind. “Somas,” she said quietly. “Did you find—”
“Zac? Yes. Almost two hours ago. He’s dead.” Somas’s grim tone showed how much he loathed losing a member of the crew. “We saw traces of you next to his body, but also two other footprints. We have a lot to discuss.”
“We sure do.” Beaux staggered as new vertigo hit, and though she hated feeling weak, she allowed Somas to hold her arm gently as they approached the camp. He took her through the elaborate maze made of the wire, and then she was among the rest of her people, barring the skeleton crew up on the Empress.
Veyar came up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “For a moment,” he said and then just shook his head.
“I know. And I’m sorry I couldn’t protect Zac,” she replied.
“Let’s get you food, water, and medication. Doc needs to take a look at that head wound. It doesn’t seem to be bleeding any longer.” Veyar motioned toward a new, larger tent. “We put up one of the medical-trauma tents, as I deem the risk of more casualties is increasing.”
“Because I went missing, or is it the trouble escalating regardless?” Beaux followed Veyar and Somas into the tent. Before she let the door close, she stopped and looked at her crew. “I’m fine. We’re going to deal with the situation we’re in once I’ve had a chance to talk to Commander Veyar and the shuttle-master chief. Continue with your assignments in the meantime.”
“Yes, sir,” the crew said as one. Several of them appeared relieved, and she knew they needed to see her as their indestructible captain, which meant her stay in the trauma medical tent had to be brief. She nodded at the people she was responsible for and let the door close.
“Captain.” Doc Croy, a gangly woman in her sixties with short, steel-gray hair, motioned Beaux over to a gurney. “Hop up.”
“Sorry, Doc. No hopping.” Beaux bit back a moan as she carefully sat on the gurney. “I hurt my hip and my temple. Other than that, I’m in great shape.”
“Ha. If you admit to being injured at all, it means you were close to dying when you were wounded. Were you shot?” Doc directed a light against Beau’s face. “No,” she said without a beat, answering herself. “You were either struck with a blunt object or hit your head on the ground.”
“The latter.” Beaux drew a hissing breath as Doc probed the wound on her temple.
“You put something on this? Somet
hing has stemmed the bleeding.” Doc eyed her closely.
“Um. I was bleeding. I pressed a bunch of leaves against it for a while.” The explanation sounded thin even in her ears.
“Some leaves. There’s even some meshing already going on.” Doc looked intrigued, which was rare for the otherwise acerbic physician. “Lie down. Got to scan that hip, and I’ll do a full abdomen as well.”
“But I’m—all right, all right.” Beaux stretched out on the gurney while Doc fetched a wide wand. She slid it along Beaux’s body from all directions, muttering her usual profanities. The military-grade device was calibrated to scan through uniforms in the field. Beaux and Doc had purchased it from a group of deserters on one of Cimeria Prime’s moons. Running it across her body took three minutes, which seemed endless, but when she was done, Doc nodded with something of a relieved smile.
“No fractures. Signs of small, contained capillary bleeds around the left hip and shoulder. A slight sprain of the left hip joint. No other internal injuries. I’ll say you were lucky, Captain. The head injury shows a concussion, and the laceration on your left temple caused the temporal artery to seep. If you hadn’t managed to heal yourself with those leaves, you could have bled out eventually. But I can’t figure out how you could have pressed leaves against your head. No way a concussion at this level wouldn’t render you unconscious.”
