Alien Worlds (14 page)

Joss laughed and pounded the table.

Robert pointed. “Look at that one!”

“Didn’t I tell you they were flexible?” He slapped him on the back.

Impani turned from the eerie dance. She sniffed the dark liquid within her goblet. It smelled like turpentine. She returned it to the table. Cautiously, she nibbled a fish, which was chewy, and the pepper, which was sweet.

As she ate, she realized that everyone at the table wore chainmail. In the shadows, naked people gathered with their arms draped about their children, watching the diners.

“Aren’t they allowed to eat?” she asked.

“Fighters eat first.” Joss smacked his lips. “As in every great society.”

“But the children are malnourished,” she blurted. “Look at their distended stomachs.”

He leaned forward and glared at her. In a voice one would use with a disobedient child, he said, “The
grapes
are marsupials, like opossums or kangaroos. The bloating is just immature pouches.”

She felt herself go red. “I thought they were starving.”

“We wouldn’t let that happen. It would be counterproductive. If we run low on food, Beaumont will send some over, and if he runs low, I’ll do the same.”

“But aren’t you two at war?”

“It’s not war.” He sniggered. “It’s a game. Like a video game. The kind where you get to play god.”

“Some game,” she muttered. “We saw people die.”

He flicked his hand. “Pawns.”

Impani stared in appalled silence. She glanced at Trace. His lips were in a tense line. Robert avidly watched the dancers, grinning.

Then Natica stirred and moaned. Her eyelids fluttered.

Impani leaned over her. “Natica? Are you all right?”

Her friend looked up, bleary eyed. “Impani? Where are we?”

T
race blew out a breath of relief as Natica spoke. She appeared groggy, but that was to be expected. Impani fumbled through her belt then drew out her water flask. He could tell it was empty by the way she looked at it, so he leaned forward and offered his. She paid him a quick smile then held the flask to her friend’s lips. Natica sipped and sputtered. She pushed it away.

“We’ve been so worried,” Impani said.

“What happened?” Natica glanced around. “How did I get here?”

Impani looked at Trace as if stricken.

He lowered his voice in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was at breakfast, and Impani was talking about… Trace?” She blinked. “What are you doing here?”

“Breakfast?” Impani cried. “You remember breakfast?”

“It’s all right, Impani,” Trace said.

“It’s not all right!” she cried, her face etched with panic. “What about the components? What about getting us home?”

“Memory lapses are common after a concussion. Perhaps after she—”

“Hey, Galos.” Wilde walked around the end of the table. “About time you woke up.”

“Robert?” Natica pressed her fingers against her temples. “I don’t remember what happened. I don’t remember!”

“Calm down,” Impani said. “We’ll figure everything out.”

She moaned. “It hurts to think.”

Impani turned to Joss. “Is there a place we can take our friend to rest?”

His face darkened, and he growled, “You’re leaving my luau?”

“Regrettably, we must.” Trace inclined his head. “Your Highness.”

Joss stared at him, his expression stony. Finally, he said, “You can spend the night in the cabana. It will be quieter there.”

He hooted, and a boneless person rushed to his side. The villager listened for a moment then motioned to the cadets.

“Can you walk?” Impani asked Natica.

Her friend nodded, but her movements were shaky. Impani supported her with an arm about her waist.

Wilde said, “I think I’ll stay. Keep an eye on things here.”

“That’s a good idea.” Impani patted his shoulder. “Find out what you can.”

Trace’s fists clenched. As if Wilde had any intentions other than to carouse with the natives.

“Thank you, sir.” Impani smiled at Joss as she passed.

The Emperor scowled.

They followed their guide into the woods. Natica stumbled over the long grass, so Trace swept her into his arms. Firelight flickered through the trees, lighting their way, and the pounding drumbeat echoed.

However, the farther they went, the quieter it became. A cold, brittle breeze rattled the corkscrew reeds. The trees thinned, and a lake came into view. Its water glimmered beneath a large silver moon.

The purple-skinned alien led them along the bank to a grass hut. Trace carried Natica through the circular doorway then paused in the gloom. He made out a sparse, windowless room. It stank of mildew and fish.

Impani switched on the wrist lamp and stepped around him. “There’s something like a bed in the center.”

Entering the hut, he placed Natica upon a platform of reeds cushioned with woven grass mats. Natica winced and rubbed her forehead with trembling fingers.

Impani sat on the ground beside her. “How do you feel?”

She moaned. “I keep trying to recall—”

“Don’t. Just relax. It will come to you.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if I never remember?”

“You will.” Impani smiled. “Trace is right. You’ve had an injury. We can’t expect you to remember everything right away.”

Trace took out his med-pac. “I’ll give you something for the headache.” He fed a dose of analgesic to the derma-jecter and pressed it under her chin.

Natica jerked at the pop of the ‘jecter.

“Get some sleep.” Impani smoothed her friend’s brow.

Obediently, Natica closed her eyes. Soon her face relaxed, and her breathing slowed.

Impani motioned to Trace then tiptoed through the door. She glanced around. “Our guide must have gone back to the luau.”

“I’m happy to get away from it. Although I was hungry.”

“Me, too.” She unclipped the flashlight from her wrist. “This is yours.”

“Thanks.” He hooked it to his belt.

She walked toward the lake. The water was smooth and dark, reflecting the moon like a black mirror. The curly reeds became more numerous.

He said, “Everything grows in spirals on this planet. Reeds, grass, tree branches.”

“I kind of like it.” She pointed at lights on the shoreline. “What are those? Lanterns?”

“Maybe phosphorescent flowers.”

She tossed a smile over her shoulder then led him along the stony bank toward one of the lights. Close up, it looked even more like a flower—a long stem topped with tiny white lights. But as Impani reached for it, the lights broke apart, flying about before again settling on the reed.

“They’re moths,” she gasped, her eyes alight.

If he lived to be a thousand, he would never forget the look of delight on her face. She waved her fingers to make them fly again.

He pulled her higher upon the bank. They stood hand-in-hand, looking out over the glassy surface of the lake.

“This is a beautiful world,” she said, “but—”

“But we don’t belong here.”

She looked thoughtful for moment then brightened. “But now that Natica is awake—”

“Not so fast. She might not regain her memory all at once.”

“She’ll remember. She has to.”

Trace could almost hear her thoughts continue—
only Natica knows how to save them
. But in the time they’d spent together, he’d learned to trust Impani’s instinct, her ingenuity. He knew that if she tried she could put that circuit board together. She could do anything—and he wanted to tell her so.

Instead, he said, “How did you and Wilde get together?”

“He’s just a guy.” She sat on the bank and tossed a pebble into the water. “Robert isn’t so bad, really. He’s the only child of Admiral Amanda Wilde.”

Trace stared. “Of the Space Corps?”

She nodded. “He joined the Colonial Scouts on a dare. A motherly don’t you dare.”

She laughed softly. He hadn’t heard her laugh in a long while.

Feeling vaguely discomfited, he sat beside her on the rocks. He never had to compete for a girl’s attentions before. His family fortune made it simple. But he didn’t think Impani would be impressed by land or money.

Finally, he said, “You never did tell me your secret.”

<<>>

I
mpani stiffened. Had he read her thoughts? “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Start anywhere you like.” He draped his arm about her. “If the story needs to be told, it will come out.”

He was right, of course. Already she could feel the words bubbling up her throat in a rush to be heard. But how could she explain? How could she make him understand how desperate she was, how alone?

In a low voice, she said, “I studied so hard to get into the program. It was all I thought about, my only means of escape. But when I finally went to the recruitment center, the recruiter told me the Scouts didn’t take in every guttersnipe that came along. I was devastated. Humiliated. I never felt so worthless. Then he acted as if he was taking pity on me. He told me that a local gang was scaring recruits away from his door. If I could get him the names of the leaders and where to find them, he would push for my acceptance into the academy.” Tears filled her eyes, surprising her. She thought she’d cried them out long ago.

“A dangerous mission,” Trace murmured, “infiltrating a street gang.”

She shook her head. “They weren’t what I expected. They lived in the lower levels of an abandoned shopping mall. There were families there. Like a community. I thought that perhaps I had the wrong place. These people weren’t a threat to anyone. But when I made my report, the recruiter just smiled and said that I should wait there and keep my cover. So I waited and actually made some friends. I convinced myself I wasn’t betraying them, just giving up the names of their leaders. They would be arrested, probably put in jail.”

Her words broke, and she swallowed several times. Her sight turned inward—revisiting the nightmare, living it all again. She saw people running, shadows in smoke, the flash of erupting gunfire.

Trace tightened his arm about her shoulders as if bracing them both.

When she spoke again, she didn’t recognize her own voice. “They came in with flamethrowers. Burned them alive. All of them. Women. Children. I remember their screams, the horrible smell of fuel.”

“They
burned
them?”

“They didn’t give them a chance. Oh, God.” She covered her face. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“You were still there?”

She nodded and wiped her eyes. “He meant for me to die along with them. You should have seen his face when I showed up at the recruitment center. When I accused him of murder, he said he meant it as a show of force, a statement to the other gang leaders who wanted him out of their area. He actually expected to be heralded a hero for cleaning up the neighborhood, never understood the public outcry.”

“I’m surprised the public even learned of it,” Trace said.

“I turned him in.” A quavering sigh escaped her. “There was a trial. Everyone knew what had happened.”

“You risked everything.”

“I couldn’t live with what I’d done. Unfortunately, the other gangs feel the same way. I’ll be killed if I don’t make the program.”

“Suddenly, my stint in a penal colony looks pretty pale.”

“After the scandal died down, the CEB assigned a new recruiter to the center. He was once a Scout himself. He told me that cadets are accepted on merit, not in exchange for money or information.” She grimaced. “How could I let myself be used like that?”

“Impani, I—”

“I don’t deserve to be a Scout.”

“You’ll make a great Scout. I’ve never been paired with anyone better. And there’s no one I’d rather be lost with.”

She gave a small chuckle then sniffled. “On the ant world, when we were in that storage shed, you were about to kiss me. Why didn’t you?”

“You were frightened, and I didn’t want you to look back and think I had taken advantage.”

“I’m not frightened anymore.” She looked up at him.

He held her gaze, his deep eyes shadowed. Gently, he cupped her face in his hands. A blush warmed her cheeks. She touched his shoulder, drawing him closer.

A shriek rent the air.

Impani bolted upright. “That’s Natica.”

Trace leaped to his feet then ran along the bank, boots skittering upon the rocks. Impani followed, ears sharpened for sound, eyes wide in the black night. They reached the silent hut. Trace played his flashlight over the clearing and the surrounding brush, one hand upon his gun. Impani rushed past him, diving through the doorway.

Natica sat upon the narrow bed. She trembled visibly, and her face glistened with sweat in the faint light. “You’re here. I thought I dreamed you. I thought I was alone.”

Impani hugged her. “It’s all right. I won’t leave again.”

“I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“You’ll feel better in the morning. You’ll take one look at those circuit chips and—”

“But you don’t understand,” Natica wailed. “It’s not like it’s a name that’s on the tip of my tongue. It’s not as if I know I should remember something but I’m drawing a blank. No time has passed for me. We had breakfast and then I was here.”

Impani held her close, rocking her gently as she wept. What if Natica never remembered? How would they get back to the academy?

Trace peered through the doorway. Impani stared at him, unable to speak. She imagined spending her life on this world, living under Joss’ delusional godhood.

She had to do something.