Warriors of Risnar 4

by Tracy St. John

  “About the same as last night at this time when you called,” she teased, giggling to let him know he wasn’t a bother. “Hold on, Retav’s switching you to the private device.”

  “Thank you.”

  Velia was an engineer, a smart Earthling who’d won the heart of Cas Village’s head enforcer, Jape Bolep. Strong-willed but calm, she was a far cry from Boom-Boom. She’d certainly never sung bawdy tunes, at least not to Arga’s knowledge.

  “Peace to you, Arga.” Retav’s tone was strong, though his body was not.

  “And to you, my guardian. How was your day?”

  “Exhilarating.”

  “Oh? You’re not overdoing things, are you?” Arga frowned, worry pushing him toward severity.

  “You make too much fuss, my boy. I’m excited because we have settled on three final candidates for Cas Village’s new head elder. The vote will be in a week.”

  “Excellent. I’m sure you and the rest of the Elders Council are looking forward to seeing this through.”

  “Indeed. What of you? Did you meet with the explosives expert? Did she agree to help us?”

  “I’m just in from escorting her to the women’s dorm.”

  “What’s the hesitation I hear in your tone? Is she not what Anneliese told you to expect?”

  Arga snorted. “I’m not certain anyone could have expected such a person.”

  “Someone interesting, eh? Tell me about her.”

  Interesting. That was one way of putting it. Choosing his words carefully, Arga said, “She’s lively.”

  “And?” Was that delight he heard from Retav? He’d better not be getting the wrong idea.

  “I have a few doubts that she’s stable enough to be in charge of exploding things. She’s loud and excitable and drinks more than any man I’ve seen. She makes comments that suggest a high interest in mating.”

  “Do you find her attractive in that fashion?” Outright laughter.

  “By the All-Spirit! What a question to ask!” Arga sat up straight in bed. He got up and began to pace.

  “That sounds like a reluctant yes.”

  “What? Of course not. She’s—she’s—too much!” As he protested, Arga heard how his voice rose. But it was true—no matter how fascinating and attractive the Earthling was, she was too outlandish. “You wouldn’t have believed your eyes and ears had you been to dinner with us. Others were staring. Laughing at her conduct.”

  “She sounds fun to be around.”

  “Maybe for you. I have no interest in those who behave in such an excessive manner.”

  “If you say so. You’re certainly loud in your assertion. Quite defensive.”

  “Retav!”

  “All right, Arga. I assumed wrongly. This woman doesn’t enthrall you in any shape or form.”

  “Absolutely not.” He seethed at the teasing.

  “All right, fine. I believe you. Oh, Arga?”

  “What?”

  “She’s not there at home with you, is she?”

  Velia laughed in the background.

  “Good night, Retav.”

  Chapter Three

  Ready to run screaming for the distant mountains, Selena walked outside the huge, domed temple, untold light years from home and even farther from sleep. Why hadn’t she noted Thompson’s contact information before they’d gone their separate ways? Yitrow was the size of a small town, but it was too big for her to go knocking on doors in hopes of finding her fellow Earthling.

  Calm down. Freaking out won’t help. Breathe.

  Easier said than done. Especially with the sound of chanting coming from the open doors of the massive temple. Hundreds, if not thousands, of voices rose in the night, setting her hair on end.

  The path that ran around the temple complex surrounding the main building led her past gardens and courtyards and smaller, though still-sizable, domes. Selena’s aching legs halted next to a pond ringed by faintly glowing stones, where colorful phosphorous swimming creatures—fortunately, much smaller than alligators and not sporting big, sharp teeth—splashed and gamboled beneath the surface. Other unseen nightlife chirruped and warbled, not precisely like peepers and crickets, but close enough that they gave Selena a sense of familiarity. Better still, they helped to drown out that rhythmic droning of the devout Risnarish in the temple.

  Selena drew in the scent of crisp, cool air. She tried to find solace in the mountains, their silhouettes visible in the blue light of the massive planet hanging in the heavens above. She reminded herself that none of the Risnarish she’d met thus far fit the mold of the people she’d grown up with.

  Thompson was the same as ever, her eyes and manner sharp. Arga and Nex weren’t the least bit weird. Well, as far as aliens are concerned.

  No sign of programmed minds. No attempts to indoctrinate Selena. The women in the dorm where she’d been given a room and pallet to sleep on had been pleasant, if distantly polite. She had no reason to worry.

  The breeze shifted for a moment, bringing her the drone of chanting. Selena’s breath caught, and her hands tightened into fists.

  Then the air changed course again, taking the terrifying sound away and replacing it with soft footfalls approaching from behind.

  Selena turned. Her anxiety strengthened at the sight of the tall Risnarish woman who approached her. She tensed, ready to fight or flee.

  The female, gold striped and deeper brown in color than Arga, pressed a three-fingered hand to her flat chest. Her voice had the sedate tone of a brainwashed true believer. “From my spirit to yours, Boom-Boom, welcome to Risnar. I am Elder Notlin.”

  “Um, hi. Actually, my name is Selena. Boom-Boom is a nickname my co-workers tagged me with.” Good night, why was she blathering about her name? What was that thick band of gold on the woman’s brow for? Decoration? A tiara? A sign of her religion?

  “Selena. A much lovelier name than Boom-Boom. It is a delight for us to meet.”

  Speak for yourself, sister. Selena didn’t try to hide her suspicions. “Were you looking for me?”

  “Forgive me for interrupting your contemplation, but I thought it important that I welcome you myself. I am the head of the Assembly.”

  “Assembly?” Otherwise known as a sect, congregation, family—whatever a cult decided to call itself.

  “The Assembly guides the Risnarish, generally speaking. We debate the laws and spiritual leadership of our planet.”

  Yikes, Notlin was the VIP of the aliens, their high priestess, no less. Big trouble. Selena edged back a step. “Well. You’ve got a terrific planet here, Elder Notlin. Um, except for the part the Monsuda have killed off, of course. I meant to say, what I’ve seen of the inhabitants and this village is super nice. You must be proud.”

  She sounded lame, jabbering too loud in a high-pitched voice. With a religious ceremony of some sort going on only yards distant, attended by a huge number of Risnarish, and their grand poohbah right in front of her—it was no wonder Selena’s anxiety had gone off the charts.

  Notlin cocked her head, her gold-tipped ears tilting back in a way that made her appear concerned. “Am I so imposing? Or are you nervous about the task we’re asking you to do? Causing explosions is a violent and unpleasant notion, to be sure. Perhaps if you join in the chants and meditations with the rest—”

  “No. That’s not happening. I mean—thanks. I’m not a chanting kind of person.” Flustered, Selena retreated another step, flapping her hands.

  “You’re upset. Someone has frightened you.” Notlin’s ears flattened. “Tell me who and what they’ve done. You are an honored guest, brought here at my personal invitation. You are not to be threatened.”

  Selena blinked at the sincerity and the protective stance the elder took. She was tall, at least six feet, but Notlin was a willowy creature. Nonetheless, her voice was a velvet glove over an iron demeanor, shaking Selena’s initial assumptions. She possessed a core of strength.

  “Oh no, Elder Notlin. No one has done anything of that nature at all. The
truth is, it’s the chanting that’s freaking me out. I’m not comfortable with overt religious expression. I grew up in a cult.”

  “I’m not familiar with this word cult. The translator does not recognize it. Could you explain, please?” Her silver eyes brightened and ears swiveled forward with interest.

  “A cult is a bunch of people who have become a little too enthralled with their version of a god. Usually, it’s lorded over by someone who uses others’ faith in a higher being to control them. He or she sets themselves up as godlike and brainwashes the gullible for money, service and property. Those who follow such leadership end up losing their freedom and the ability to think for themselves.”

  Notlin gazed at Selena for several seconds, as if waiting for the punchline of a joke. The stripe over her brow drew down as she digested the information. When she finally spoke, her tone registered shock. “This is true? It happens on your world? It happened to you?”

  “I escaped when I was a teenager. I’m not about to get caught up in any scene resembling that again.”

  “I’m sorry you suffered such. The All-Spirit abhors nothing because it is present in all of creation, but it would never agree with such tactics.” Notlin shook her head, as if such ideas were beyond her ability to comprehend. She acted genuine in her reaction.

  “I hope you’re not offended. I mean, no one here tried to drag me into your temple to chant. I might be overly sensitive to the whole serene vibe your people give off—particularly the women.” Selena had to admit she might have been melodramatic in her concerns.

  PTSD, anybody? It’s not just for combat issues.

  Notlin offered her a tranquil smile, quickly shedding the confusion Selena’s explanation had brought on. “You have my promise that you won’t be compelled to take part in our rituals. I’ll locate a private dome for you to stay in so you don’t feel uncomfortable while you are here. Will that help? If not, I’ll send you home to Earth, and we’ll try to locate another expert in your field.”

  Maybe the woman was blowing smoke up Selena’s ass—though Notlin looked as far from a smoke-up-ass blower as anyone, alien or human, possibly could. Her concern for Selena rang genuine. She presented her offer and waited to find out if Selena would accept it. No exaggerated assertions. No sickeningly sweet sympathy. No attempt to talk Selena into staying.

  Selena felt foolish. “I’m sorry to put you out.”

  “Not at all. If you’ll wait here, I’ll check on what’s available and return with your dome assignment.”

  Notlin glided off, moving quickly without seeming to hurry at all. Poised. Perfect in how she carried herself. The breeze shifted, and Selena heard her speak to someone who stood out of sight. “No, I’ll take care of it. Don’t let the child be disturbed.”

  The child. Well, Notlin was an elder, so it followed she had some years on her. Maybe that was where the poise came in.

  Perhaps Notlin was putting on a damned good front, too. Making Selena feel safe before drawing her in. Who the hell knew? Selena decided she would remain on her guard. Hopefully, she’d run into Thompson again soon and learn the real story on the head of the Assembly and her chanting minions.

  Selena gazed up at the alien sky. She hoped coming to Risnar hadn’t been the biggest mistake of her life.

  * * * *

  Arga hurried to the temple early the next morning for the meeting of the war council. As he navigated the paths between the main temple and the outlying domes, he noticed Boom-Boom. She paced around a pond, her features pinched in contemplation.

  Gliding in the yellow-gold light of a new morning, softened by fog’s mist, Boom-Boom was a revelation. With hair as blue at the roots as the distant mountains, shading to the white of snowcaps, she appeared to be a magical entity who’d mistakenly wandered into the valley. Her young face was too delicate to be real. He had a vision of cradling that face in his hands, of moving close, those strangely ancient blue eyes closing as her breath warmed his lips and—

  Retav needs to stop giving me such ideas. I wouldn’t be thinking this nonsense if not for his innuendos.

  Arga dismissed the ridiculous vision that had occurred and drew closer, intending to wish her peace and a good morning. Something in the set of her shoulders caused him to pause and watch. Tension sang in her body. That contemplative demeanor wasn’t serene at all. Earthling faces could be hard to read because of the missing stripes, but he knew fear when he saw it.

  Was it because she was diminutive or was it the scared expression that made her appear childlike? Arga had an urge to go to her, put his hands on her shoulders and inquire gently what had happened to frighten her, much as he would approach a little one. Boom-Boom was not a girl, but she was a great distance from the brash woman of the night before.

  She is not a child. Don’t treat her like one.

  He cleared his throat and stepped forward, warning her she was not alone. Boom-Boom noticed him, and the haunted countenance disappeared in an instant. “Hey, Arga. They got you up at the butt-crack of dawn for this too?”

  She didn’t shock him as much as the night before. Perhaps he was growing accustomed to how she spoke. “The meeting, you mean? There is a great deal to cover, therefore, the early discussion. Shall we go inside?”

  There it was again, a flash of that uncharacteristic fear, as Boom-Boom darted her gaze at the buildings of the temple complex. “I, ah, thought I might wait for Thompson. I wanted to ask her about something.”

  “It’s not too cool out here for you? We can find seats so that we all sit together once Anneliese and Nex arrive.” He gazed at the bumps on her flesh that indicated she felt chilled. It was a strange reaction, but he’d witnessed it happening to Anneliese. Jeannie too, the woman living with Arga’s best friend Kren in Hahz Village. Human skin didn’t armor as Risnarish did. They were far more susceptible to temperature fluctuations.

  And alligator attacks. How do these poor, defenseless creatures do so well against such problems?

  His ruminations fled as Boom-Boom gave the complex another tense glance. What was making her anxious?

  “Are you into the whole chanting thing? Becoming one with your All-Spirit?” She eyed him carefully.

  “Me?” The suggestion made him chuckle despite his concerns over her well-being. Retav would have laughed with him at the notion. “I meditate only when I have a problem I can’t shoot my way through. Sometimes not even then. I’m afraid I’m not much for deep contemplation of my oneness with All-Spirit. I don’t have the patience for it.”

  “It’s not a requirement for all Risnarish?”

  “No, though my guardian often tried to guilt me into it when I was a boy.” He grinned at the memory. Poor Retav, the spiritual leader with the decidedly unspiritual ward. “Come on. You’ll find more arguing than chanting in the war council.”

  She hesitated despite seeming less worried after their conversation. Arga was tempted to take Boom-Boom’s arm. Perhaps doing so would comfort whatever edginess she felt at the coming meeting.

  That’s it, of course. She’s worried about what we’ll ask her to do. It would be an insult to treat her with too great of concern.

  He frowned to feel disappointment that he shouldn’t physically escort her into the complex. What did he care, as long as she joined the meeting?

  Boom-Boom fell in with him as he headed inside. Her steps trailed reluctantly, and her gaze darted at their surroundings as they entered the war council room.

  Strangely skittish. Too nervous for a mere introductory meeting. He would reassure her that she’d soon be up to speed. Arga was certain she’d be all right once they had confirmed Boom-Boom possessed the skills they needed. Until then, he’d keep an eye on her, to make sure that whatever had caused her defenses to go up wouldn’t be a problem.

  * * * *

  Selena relaxed to find there was no chanting or holy rolling going on in the chamber Arga led her to. Instead, small clusters of striped Risnarish dotted the space. The room was furnished with a hug
e curved table of polished wood at one end, and smaller rectangular tables with cushioned seats facing it.

  Though she had no real method of gauging ages of the aliens, it appeared most of the attendees who gathered behind the curved table were the eldest. Their stripes couldn’t quite hide the way their faces crinkled as they spoke, and several had gray strands in their manes. Others’ strips of hair had faded to outright ivory or silver, no longer matching the coloring of their bodies.

  Notlin was among the elders. Though she had those suspect lines at the corners of her silver eyes and mouth, her shape and hair showed no sign of age. She met Selena’s gaze and smiled. Selena returned the smile, feeling better about facing the ruler of Risnar. Notlin had been true to her word about finding her a dome house of her own to stay in. It was within walking distance of the temple, but not a part of the complex itself.

  No worries. She’s not out to convert me.

  Many in the room weren’t euphoric with false grace. Selena spied quite a few grave demeanors among the intense expressions. Of the three dozen or so Risnarish, no one was empty-eyed or without resolve.

  Chiding herself for her unfounded skittishness, Selena followed Arga to a table in front, directly across from the curved stand. The seats were cylindrical, much like ottomans, or hassocks, as Selena’s aunt had referred to them. Even without backs, they were comfortable.

  “All right?” Arga asked as they settled.

  “Couldn’t be better.” She wondered at the curl of warmth in her chest that came from his considerate concern.

  A moment later, Thompson and Nex entered. Thompson sat next to Selena, with Nex on her other side. After greeting Selena and Arga, Nex pulled out his CPP—a handheld computer, similar to a tablet on Earth—and started tapping on it furiously. Arga was doing the same.

  “These kids and their electronic doohickeys,” Selena said to Thompson, doing her impression of a creaky old woman. “Always playing Pac-Dude and Donkey Shlong and Angry Burps instead of reading a good book.”