“Wow. We need to up our game back home,” Magnus said, winking at me.
“Come, I’ll show you to the dining terrace. Our cooks know how to prepare anything…” Denni paused. “Well, maybe not human food, but I’m sure a Ballemiol from 5R333L will satisfy one of your…stature.” He looked at Magnus when he said the last bit, and I laughed, following them out of the suite.
After a gentle knock on Leslie’s door, she opened it, and I could tell she’d applied a dewy moisturizer and turned her cheeks red in an effort to pull off the “sick card.”
“You guys go ahead. I’m not feeling so hot. Maybe bring me back something bready.” With that, she slowly shut the door, and I shrugged.
“Guess it’s just us, Magnus.”
Eight
The sun was set now, and the ocean water glowed with bioluminescent life. If I thought the world was a sight during the day, nothing prepared me for its beauty at night. Insects chirped incessantly, giving a droning white noise that was surprisingly calming.
I wanted nothing more than to get the details we needed and leave, but if we were stuck there for a night, at least we were in the comfort of luxury, not camping on a beach being attacked by some unknown predators. Here the predators had guns, and they would likely stab you in the back rather than shoot you in the chest.
The Padlog gave off an air of concern, of culture and thoughtfulness, but I knew the only thing they cared about was preserving their way of life. What happened to me or Magnus didn’t matter to them, unless we could provide them with something. We needed to show them value, and telling the Supreme we were Gatekeepers with a problem had planted that seed. Undoubtedly, the Supreme was sitting up right now, considering how high he could rise if he were the one to help fix the portals. Maybe he considered the task large enough to wake the sleeping Theos.
We wouldn’t know until tomorrow, but at least Leslie was out making contact with Sergo now. He would find a way to get the location to the crystal world. He had to. I wasn’t sure where I’d start if he failed, but I was going to stop at nothing to find Mary.
“That was something else,” Magnus said, pushing his plate away. We sat on the rooftop terrace, and as the clouds dissipated, our view improved.
A Padlog resembling a beetle walked over, his body every bit a shield of armor, only he was a waiter, not a soldier. No matter how many times I told myself we were safe here, my gut was telling me otherwise.
“Anything else for you?” his clicks translated into English. We’d taken Denni’s advice, and he’d been right about the Ballemiol being delectable.
“I’ll have one more of these, and one for my friend.” Magnus gestured for another of the golden nectar beverages he was quickly becoming enamored with, maybe even a little tipsy from. The server nodded and left us to ourselves.
I poked at a purple legume left on my plate. “I know it’s quite the place, but I only want to get what we came here for and leave.”
“We’ll find her, Dean.” Magnus gave me a tight-lipped smile. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a slight slur to his words.
I didn’t know that for sure but didn’t want to say it out loud. “I know.”
“This is the first time I’ve been away since dealing with the Bhlat.”
“Seriously?” I thought about that and realized I’d traveled to countless worlds and had too many adventures to count on my fingers since then. “That’s what I’ve always wanted. To be home and make a family.”
“It’s great. But there’s something about taking off to an alien world to make you remember what life used to be like. Being a mercenary and taking down bad guys, rescuing hostages, and just kicking some ass every now and then was my life. It all changed a little once Natalia was in my life.” He looked out over the horizon pensively.
“What changed?” I asked, thanking the server when he brought new cups of nectar and cleared our plates away.
“Everything. I fell in love with her pretty quickly, you know. She was hurt. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Her parents were poor, terrible people. Rumor has it, her father traded her as payment for a gambling debt.”
I winced. I hadn’t heard this part of the story before. “That’s terrible, Mag.”
He nodded, still looking out over the edge of the terrace. “When we found her, her eyes were so dead. I can hardly remember them now when I look my wife in the eyes, but sometimes, like this moment, I can picture the distant stares she gave, like nothing mattered to her anymore. I wanted to fix her but knew I couldn’t. Only time could restore her wounds, and even then, I know many of them have never healed properly. A deep cut often leaves a scar, even with the best stitches.”
“She’s such a strong and wonderful person.”
“She is. So is Mary. It’s funny. All those years, and Nat wouldn’t talk. All it took was to be tossed into an intergalactic crisis with you and Mary by our side, and she found her voice again.”
I remembered that moment vividly.
Magnus took another drink from his cup and held it in a large hand. “You know what’s crazy?”
I waved my hand toward the dark sky and illuminated ocean beneath it. “I can think of a lot of crazy things.”
“I wouldn’t trade any of it. I know it’s selfish, and we lost a lot of people along the way, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The Event, the Bhlat, New Spero, you giving away our planet. These were all just things that needed to happen for my life to end up where it is.” He turned to me, making eye contact. “I owe a lot of that to you. The good parts anyway.”
I laughed lightly, knowing I was responsible for a lot of the bad parts too. “I hear you.” But did I? If I could go back to before the day Mary and I had just relived in the Iskios’ test, would I? If the Bhlat hadn’t forced the Kraski to run, if the Deltra hadn’t planted a device on Earth… there were a lot of “ifs,” and one thing I knew was that there was always a larger predator. Just when I thought we’d seen all we could see, we were up against one of the Ancients, the Iskios. And they’d been resurrected through my wife.
If none of it had happened, I’d likely still be alone, watching the Yankees on Sunday matinees and combing through my clients’ bookkeeping needs, wishing there was more out there for me. But Mary would be safe.
“You don’t owe me anything. I’m happy for you. I need to find Mary and stop these bastards so you can keep enjoying your family and life on New Spero. And every now and then, I’ll make sure you go on an adventure or two. Maybe something like rock climbing on the moons of Evello or hiking the ocean pathway on Ceenlok Four.”
“That sounds perfect.” He clinked my cup, and we each took another drink. The sweet nectar was thrumming through my body now. My arm console buzzed, a coded message appearing on the screen.
“It’s her. Leslie sent coordinates. She’s found Sergo.”
____________
Getting to the ground level had proven easier than I’d expected. What I hadn’t counted on was how difficult it was finding a way below the faux surface the Padlog had created.
The streets were eerily empty at this late hour, and the two of us looked sorely out of place. I kept looking behind me to see if we were being followed. I doubted we could leave the tower without the Supreme knowing about it, but we didn’t have a choice.
“What do you think? I don’t see access anywhere,” I told Magnus. Leslie’s communication had gone silent after the first message, and I was worried about her safety. We’d left our rifles back in the rooms, but we each had the compact pistols tucked into our belts. There was no way we weren’t going to be ready for a surprise.
Our dark jumpsuits made us hard to see in the softly-lit square between the four towers, and Magnus ducked away to the corner with the least light. “Over here,” he whispered.
A Padlog leaned against the back of a food stand, its posture telling me it wasn’t in the least concerned with us sneaking around. Its chirps and clicks translated to our earpieces as its antennae twitched. “
What can I help you find?” The voice was lighter, different, and that was when I noticed this Padlog was thinner, curvier. It was a female.
I looked at Magnus, lifting an eyebrow in a “can we trust her” kind of message. He did the talking. “We need to get below. I hear the best nectar is down there.”
“The best everything is down there. What kind of things are you two visitors into? You can do anything below…for a price.” She was still leaning casually.
“You don’t want to know what this one’s into.” Magnus jabbed a thumb back at me. Before I could say anything in defense, the Padlog spoke.
“Come with me. I’ll show you the way.”
“Is this a good idea?” I shut our translator down so our new friend couldn’t understand me.
“What choice do we have? We need to make sure Leslie’s all right, and without Sergo, we have nothing.” Magnus was already following her.
“My name’s Till, purveyor of dreams,” she said.
“Sure. I’m Parker, and this is Tobias,” I said, making something up on the spot.
“Now that we have that out of the way, we need to talk about payment.” Till stopped and I bumped into her.
“Payment? For what?” I asked.
“For showing you into the Vespiary.”
I paused at that. Wasn’t that the name for a wasps’ nest? I wasn’t sure I wanted to go in there. But I had to. “We don’t have anything of value.”
She eyed us, trying to take inventory. “What about the weapons you’re concealing?”
I coughed, but before I could say anything, she held a slim gun in her hand. Magnus wasn’t far behind, and he pushed me behind him, standing his ground a couple yards away from her. “Look, Till. We have to go down there, meet a fella named Sergo, and get the hell out of here. You’re going to show us the way and get on with your night.”
Her gun lowered slightly. “Sergo? Why didn’t you say so?” she asked, her voice lighter. The gun vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and she patted Magnus on the shoulder while walking by him. “We go way back. If you have business with him, I don’t want to keep you.”
I swore there was a tremor in her voice, and though she was trying to play it cool, she was scared of Sergo. This much was clear.
I looked at Magnus and shrugged. He frowned at me in return and tucked his gun away.
She led us to the far edge of the square, where shorter buildings lined the entire way between the huge towers in the four corners. At night, they were lit up in random windows, but it was hard to see just how tall they were.
We approached one of the buildings, where a business name was hardly visible in the night. She knocked on a metal door devoid of windows, and a stifled voice called from behind it. The Padlog with us said something nonsensical to our translator – a secret password, I guessed – and the door opened to reveal the largest beetle I’d ever seen. He wore a bright silver vest, because I doubted any shirt would be able to contain the tree-trunk arms he sported.
The bouncer glared at us with suspicious beady eyes, but Till slipped him something we couldn’t see, and he moved out of the way. The room was wide open, dim yellow lights lining the walls, and I spotted a wooden staircase on the other end of the chamber.
The beetle didn’t say anything; he just watched us walk by and toward the stairs. The room was sparsely furnished with just a few worn old chairs, but I noticed the holes in the walls and the mounted surveillance in the corners of the room. This entry was obviously being watched, probably by the Supreme or someone in power. They were a religious race, and like every culture, there would be seedy things going on under the surface. In this case, it was literal and metaphorical. I didn’t glance back as we started down the steps. The world above had a sweet scent to it, almost like a field of flowers from a distance, but it was already musty indoors.
The dim yellow wall sconces continued to light our path along the steps, and we walked down them with caution, Till confidently leading us below. After a few minutes of winding stairs, we found ourselves at the end of the line. A cage with a lift behind it blocked our path.
“Going down,” Till said, and a cricket-like Padlog emerged from the shadows and slid the cage open, waving us inside.
“What floor?” his chirps translated.
He looked at me, then Magnus, and we shook our heads, before I remembered the coordinates Leslie had sent me. I read the location digits to the small insectoid and he made a noise akin to a grunt before slamming the gate shut with a clank.
“Good thing you have those guns,” Till said.
“Why?” Magnus asked.
“That’s Larzi’s spot, where nothing remotely good goes on. It’s even unusual for your friend to be there,” she said, meaning Sergo. She wouldn’t want to let the lift operator know who we were there to see. Word would spread down here, where gossip acted like currency.
The cage stopped, and unfamiliar smells and noises carried to us. My heart rate sped up as I heard something that sounded like gunfire in the distance.
“Don’t worry. Just the games. We’ll be fine; just don’t look anyone in the eyes. And that will be hard, since some of them have hundreds each.” When we didn’t reply to her, she continued, “That’s a joke. You aliens are always so dry.”
The cage opened to reveal something completely expected yet unexpected at the same time. We were in a lobby of sorts, pillars added in the underground area for support. Lights flashed and Padlog of every shape, size, and color milled about. We stepped off the lift, and I tripped on something. Magnus was there to keep me from landing on my face, and I peered back to see a limp Padlog stretched out on the floor. Various tiny black legs were kicking in all directions, which wouldn’t have been as disturbing if there were only two of them.
“He’s not what you think. Just had a little too much of the Ponla. See, look at his proboscis.” Till kicked a foot toward the sprawled-out alien.
He had a golden powder on his face and hands. It had to be some variation of a pollen, which apparently would knock you on your butt if you took too much of it. I shuddered and moved past him, now seeing signs of the drug on many of the Padlog down here.
“Is it always like this?” I asked.
“It is on this level,” Till replied.
“Why don’t they do something about it?” Magnus asked this time.
“Who?” Till led us away from the lobby, toward a hallway. Storefronts were cut into the sides of the space; one was selling clothing, and an almost naked female wasp-like Padlog grabbed my arm and buzzed up beside me.
“Sorry, not interested,” I said and broke free of her firm grip.
“Suit yourself, weirdo,” her words translated into my earpiece. I wanted to get to Sergo and get out of here as quickly as possible.
“What were we talking about? Oh, the Supreme and his sect. Shouldn’t they want to help?” I asked.
She spat on the ground, a universal gesture. “The only thing those blowhards want is prosperity for themselves. They’ve built their society on top of our backs and don’t care what happens to us anymore. Sure, they have programs to help the needy, but it’s all a show.” I could hear the venom in her voice, though the translation didn’t convey it.
We kept moving. The floor was stone, and bits of food, pollen, and God knew what else littered it. I had to step over a few more unconscious Padlog. No one down there seemed too concerned about them, so I tried not to be either.
Music was strumming up ahead, and various locals were loitering in the halls in front of the tavern, drinks in hand. As we approached, two of them were yelling obscenities at one another, and before we knew it, their cups were thrown down and they were in a full-on melee. The female beetle grabbed a stool from the side of the hall and smashed it at the wasp-man. The wasp’s arm came up to block it, but the stool hit with a sickening crunch, and the seat broke in half, the wasp buzzing in pain.
Till stood between the fight and us, keeping her arms up, warning us not to
get involved. The wasp turned and jabbed a thick black stake from its lower back at the beetle, piercing her leg, fluid oozing out. She clicked in agony, but the fight continued. They moved farther down the hall, and Till grabbed Magnus’ hand and led him inside the emptying-out tavern.
The smell of sweat, rotten flowers, and sticky-sweet syrup hit me like a brick wall as we entered the bar. If I was going to picture a rundown underground sketchy bar on an alien insectoid world, it would look exactly like this. On the left, a bouncer slept on a chair, golden powder on his fingertips.
Beyond were a dozen booths, with enough space to seat six comfortably. On the right, a few Padlog were shooting targets at the end of an aisle. Images appeared on a screen, and they took turns firing their weapons, cheering as they hit peculiar-looking creatures and mocking each other’s misses.
“Do you see Leslie anywhere?” Magnus asked me. I looked at all of the tables from our vantage point but couldn’t see our friend among the Padlog. A few other beings were spread among the locals, and I didn’t recognize any of their races. One walked by us, its skin translucent, organs beating and moving inside its hairless body.
“Nope.” I swallowed and kept looking.
Something pushed into my back, and a voice whispered in my ear in broken English. “Want to see your friend alive?”
Magnus noticed the gun jammed against me, and as he was about to pull his out, Till stuffed her thin gun against his side and shook her head.
“Damn it.” We’d been set up. What did they want? “Where is she?” I growled, feeling the insectoid’s hot breath against my cheek.
“Come,” it said and pushed me toward the dank back corner of the bar where the only light was a small red bulb hanging from a socket on the end of a rope. A Padlog sat behind a booth, his hands laid out flat on the tabletop. A large mug of nectar was parked before him, mostly untouched.
“The one and only Dean Parker,” he said.
Nine
The insectoid leaned back, not breaking eye contact with me. He looked familiar, and I put it together. He’d been there the night we’d first arrived at Haven all that time ago. He was there when Mae escaped in Leslie and Terrance’s ship, before we gave chase with Kareem’s blessing.
The Survivors: Books 1-6 Page 91
