Read Stellarnet Rebel Online

Authors: J.L. Hilton

Stellarnet Rebel (18 page)

The military zone was nothing like the rest of the colony. It was much cleaner and brighter. And while still made up of the standard-sized blocks, their interiors had different configurations. Many had wide open areas, similar to Hax’s Tech Center. There were rooms full of people typing, talking and monitoring countless windows. Some blocks, where several humans were eating, reminded him of Aileen’s pub. There were other areas where people were participating in virtual warfare.

He passed a few humans in glowing blue UN suits like his. Others wore the uniforms of the United States—he recognized the decorations that glowed from their arms and chests, the red and white stripes and patches of dark blue with white stars. But there were many symbols and words on suits that he didn’t recognize.

In less than five minutes, he entered Sector N. The closest entrance to the Sector O hangar was through N-30. He had to use the data key to pass through a block full of living compartments, in order to reach the next thoroughfare.

“Where are you going?”

Belloc didn’t stop because he didn’t realize he was being addressed.

“Hey, I said, where are you going, PK?”

Everyone in the hallway looked at him. Belloc turned. A human female in a United States uniform glared at him.

“You’re with the 46th unit, Operation Star Gazer, right?” She pointed at the insignia glowing on Belloc’s arm. “Your unit is in Sector G for a briefing. Your CO’s probably wondering where the hell you are.”

Belloc continued to Sector O.

“Sector G is the other way, Sergeant!”

The others in the thoroughfare moved to block Belloc’s path. These were not the citizens of Asteria who would just let him go by. These humans were trained to fight.

Belloc checked his glove. The time was 0233.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m the deck officer in this sector, and when I say get to Sector G, you…” She glanced at the displays on the arm of her suit. “Your ID’s not working. Who are you?”

Belloc
didn’t sound very human, and if the officer read J’ni’s blog, she might recognize the name. He tried to think of something else, some human name he’d read in an email.

“Jack Callahan.” Belloc walked around her. “I’ve got to go.”

“You’re not going anywhere. There’s no Callahan on my ID list.” She spoke into her arm. “Yeah, we’ve got an unidentified peacekeeper here giving me grief.”

Two Airmen moved to stop him. Belloc swung his right fist into the first Airman’s chest and sent the human sprawling across the floor. Then he turned to face the second. Lightning flared from his glove and careened across the surface of her body armor, to no effect.

More personnel rushed to subdue him. He grabbed one by the shoulder and jumped, planting his feet on another and launching himself over the humans. He flew backward through the air, somersaulted and landed in a low crouch, then sprinted down the hallway.

Just as he passed through the doorway into the thoroughfare, someone hit him on the arm with a shock pole. The crackling electricity made his suit flicker and the force of the blow knocked the data key from his gloved hand. Belloc dodged and caught hold of the pole, then twisted his body and yanked the weapon out of the Airman’s grasp. This Airman didn’t have armor, and the sparks that arced from Belloc’s glove made the human convulse and slump to the ground.

The walls began to glow red and reverberate with a cacophony of alarms as Belloc ran. He heard the crack of gunshots, and the answering ting as bullets ricocheted off of the metal walls. Others had better aim, but the suit protected him, as Hax promised.

Tucking his head down, he lunged forward and rolled into the next block. Back on his feet, he planted one boot on the wall and launched himself toward the ceiling. Hanging from a pipe, he swung forward, kicking a soldier who tried to shoot him. Then he dropped and kept running. Within seconds, he had crossed the distance of N-27 into block N-28.

He heard—and felt—a rumbling sound. Panels began to close off the thoroughfare.

“Emergency containment code red for all blocks in Sector N. This is not an exercise.”

Belloc sprinted as fast as he could toward the shrinking threshold between blocks N-28 and N-29. Panels up and down the thoroughfare were moving to seal one block from another. It was a mechanism designed to minimize oxygen loss or other damage in the event of a disaster, but it was also effective for trapping unwanted intruders. Like him.

“All members of the 46th are present and accounted for. This is not one of the UN Troops.”

Belloc heard the announcement as he crossed into N-29.

“We have an unidentified combatant in the 20s thoroughfare of Sector N. Repeat, we have an unidentified combatant…”

His long legs and Glin speed hurtled him over the threshold into Sector O as the emergency panel closed. He landed in a crouch, with both hands on the floor. His glove said 0235.

He lifted his head. Through his visor, he could see the door to the hangar. But between Belloc and the door, eight United States Air & Space Force police officers stood with their guns pointed at him.

“Don’t move,” said one of the MPs.

Belloc sent a surge of bio-electric energy into his gloves. A ripple of lightning spread from Belloc’s hands and swept through the metal room, climbing the walls, flickering the Asternet displays, playing over the control panels and causing the doors to clang open and shut and open again.

Belloc was as surprised as the Airmen when threads of electricity crossed the room and danced over the soldiers’ body armor and weapons. A few of them cried out and collapsed on the ground.

He seized the opportunity to spring toward the open hangar door. One MP fired and the bullet hit Belloc’s shoulder. It didn’t pierce his suit, but at such close range the force knocked him off balance. He recovered, and with inhuman reflexes, his hand snapped out and snatched the gun from the Airman’s hands before the human realized what had happened. Throwing the weapon aside, Belloc broke the Airman’s knee with a quick kick. He disarmed and disabled the two remaining airmen before his gloves said 0237.

Inside the hangar, he saw the ship right where Hax said it would be, and more Airmen pouring in through the entrance at N-70. He also spotted Captain Shanice Avery standing beside her spacecraft. Belloc darted between the other vessels and grabbed the pilot as she ran up the ramp to her ship.

“Who the hell are you?” She tried to twist free of his grasp, but he was too strong.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I need your help, Shanice.”

“Let her go.” Several guns were aimed at him, and his visor flickered with the beams of their laser sites. They were aiming for his head.

Backing up the ramp, he used the pilot as a shield until they were both on board. Then Belloc closed the hatch and dragged her to the bridge, pushing her into a chair.

“Do you know Genevieve O’Riordan?”

Shanice was confused by the question. “Um, yeah, I think so. She’s that frog-humping blogger, right?”

“I must save her.”

“From what? You’re the one who looks dangerous.”

“You will fly this ship to Glin for me.”

“Like hell I will.”

He pulled off his helmet to better examine the displays.

“You’re not human.”

“No.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about that frog comment. It’s what people say, y’know? My step-brother, Trey, he loves you guys, and I’ve got nothing against aliens in general. But, look, there is nothing you can do to force me to fly this ship. Even if you kill me. I’m a United States Airman. You get that, don’t you?”

“Yes. Go.”

“What?”

“Leave.”

“No problem.” Shanice got up and edged away from him. When he didn’t respond, she turned and fled the ship.

Belloc sealed the door behind her and sat down in the pilot seat. He ran his hands over the touch-screens and the engines roared to life.

“Hot crap in a cookie tin.” Elder Blaze’s face appeared on one of the bridge displays. “Genny warned me about you. Let me guess. You found out that she left the colony, and you’re going to go get her. Boy, you try to take this ship, you’ll get your ass shot down, if you don’t just crash first.”

“Tell them not to shoot me.”

“I can’t,” said Elder Blaze.

“Do you want them to shoot me?”

“Yes, at the moment, I kinda do.”

Belloc touched the controls and the ship rolled forward.

“What if you make things worse by showing up on Glin? You could get caught. Did you think of that?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I think you should let me leave.”

“Son, how in the hell do you think you’re gonna fly that thing?”

Belloc swirled his hands, to take in the entire bridge. “It is like the Tikati ship.”

The colonel was silent for a few moments. “Come again?”

“It is like the Tikati ship,” Belloc repeated. He mentally compared each readout and glowing panel to those he had learned from Duin. “Or close enough. The controls are smaller, and the Tikati ship had no weapons.”

The Asternet did, however, have several military simulation games. Belloc ran his fingers over the targeting system of the ship, arming the missiles and aiming for the hangar doors.

“Are you telling me that Tikat ships are based on Earth technology?”

“I don’t know,” Belloc replied. “But I can play this ship and I will. Please remove your people from the area or they might die when I blow a hole in the wall.”

Belloc heard the colonel’s voice both within the cockpit of the ship and coming from outside. “Stand down. Evacuate the bay and prepare to launch.”

Within moments, the Airmen retreated. Belloc heard the whirring of the fans sucking the precious oxygen from the room.

“Go get her. But you realize that when you get back, you are going to be detained, right? Imprisoned? I thought most Glin didn’t like being cooped up.”

The hangar doors opened and Belloc saw the bright surface of Asteria.

“I am not most Glin,” he said, and left the colony behind.

Chapter Seventeen

The Glin was gaunt and tired, and her clothes were dirty. The milky coating of tears covered her eyes, so thick that they appeared almost solid white.

J’ni recorded the interview with her bracer. “I’d like to know if she’s happy here, and treated well.”

“Are you working very hard?”
Kitik asked the question in Glinnish.

“Yes, can I see my husband and children? Are they well?”

“She says that she is very thankful for all Tikat has done,” Kitik told J’ni. “People in her village were starving before we came.”

From the way she looked, J’ni would say she was still starving.

This was J’ni’s fifth interview with the Glin in the Tikati “Progress Center,” and so far every one of Kitik’s translations had been a complete lie. He had no idea that J’ni knew the truth, and it was becoming difficult for her to continue playing his game. She wished she could have one moment alone with the Glin, to speak to them in their own language, to tell them she knew the truth. If only she could show them the
nagyx
and ask if they’d seen Duin, or maybe his family. But Kitik never left her side.

The
nagyx
was tucked away under her clothes. She didn’t know what would happen if the Tikati found it and figured out what it was, but she couldn’t imagine leaving the necklace on Asteria. The stone was her connection to Duin, and as long as she wore it she felt him near. So near, she had to fight the urge to run through the center looking for him.

Kitik told the Glin,
“Your children are safe. You must work hard for their food and education.”

“But, if I could see them…”
The Glin was overcome with emotion and fell at the Tikati’s feet, her hands grasping at his
bava
.
“Please, Plip was only a baby.”

“She seems upset.” J’ni tried not to betray any emotion, assuming Kitik even understood human emotion.

“She’s very, very grateful,” Kitik said in English as he led J’ni away from the pleading mother. “Let’s rejoin the others.”

This portion of the Progress Center was a processing plant for bio-fuel. Following the liaison over a catwalk between large, outdoor algae tanks, J’ni paused to appreciate the view while she blinked away tears and composed herself.

Shafts of light broke through the silver clouds, and the muddy green landscape steamed with sparkling dew and rainbows. She would have thought it was beautiful, if she didn’t know how much the Glin disliked sunlight, and if she didn’t see all of the canals and dams being built by Glin, under the authority of the Tikati.

The beauty was also tarnished by the thought that those Glin were being separated from their families. On
Meglin
, the children outnumbered the adults. But in the Center, she hadn’t seen a single child, and the exchange with the desperate mother explained why. Holding their children hostage quelled revolt and encouraged compliance.

“May I record this?” She gestured to the dam projects. The damn projects.

“Of course. We are very proud of our power generation facility. This will allow us to expand the Center and provide the Glin with more opportunities to work for food, housing and clothing.”

“Didn’t they have all of those things, before you came?” As if she didn’t know the answer.

“They lived a very crude existence.”

J’ni thought of the woven structures of
Meglin
, and the beautiful, tailored suit Sala helped her to make. She also thought about the
bava
fabric, which Kitik wore.

“Your clothes are not crude, they are quite lovely, Liaison Kitik.”

“Thank you, Witness O’Riordan.”

“Envoy Duin of the Freedom Council told me that fabric was made by Glin weavers. Do you have them working for food and housing, too?”

“You must disregard everything that terrorist has ever told you,” said Kitik in his slick, ingratiating voice.

I don’t fucking think so
, she thought, but tried to keep it from showing on her face.

“I am aware that you’ve spent a great deal of time listening to his lies. And I know that he’s been very persuasive. I hope you will allow me an equal opportunity to persuade you.”

His words gave J’ni a shiver of dread. How much did he know about her connection to Tikati Enemy Number One? She wondered if Kitik had been toying with her all this time, keeping her under his watchful eye so that she could not search for Duin.

When they entered the building, another Tikati approached Kitik and spoke in their odd clicking language. This Tikati, like others she’d seen in the Progress Center, did not wear a
bava
. Instead, it wore a kind of bulky, armored suit that reminded her of the plating on the outside of the Tikati ships.

“You must return to Asteria.” Kitik said to her.

Why?

“But the inspection is going on for five more days.”
And I haven’t found Duin, yet.

“Dr. Levin and the others will remain. A ship has come to take you back. This way.”

J’ni racked her brain for some possible explanation. Did Blaze have information about Duin? Perhaps those businessmen from Earth had told the Tikati that she and Duin were lovers, and Blaze was trying to keep her from being held hostage? Or was it something else? Her parents? INC? Another bombing?

“I regret your departure. But I hope you have been able to obtain enough information to enlighten your people.”

Oh, I sure have.
“Thank you, Liaison Kitik,” she said, calm as she could manage while boiling with frustration. “You have been very helpful. I can’t wait to send this information to Earth. I’m sure they’ll find it as interesting as I do.”

In the short time between leaving the algae tanks and walking through the building, the skies had grown dark and a light rain began to fall. The landing platform outside was gray and wet, but the pilot’s glowing UN flight suit and helmet beckoned like a patch of blue sky.

Beside the building was a plant with enormous foliage. The Tikati pulled out one of the thick stems, using the attached leaf as a kind of umbrella. He handed one to J’ni.
Pitat
was the sound it made when the rain hit it.

Kitik walked her to the ship. “Please give the regards of Tikat to the leaders of Earth, Witness O’Riordan.”

“I will.” She wished the goddamn liaison would go away so she could talk to the pilot alone and convince him to let her stay.

“There is an ambassador.” J’ni recognized the pilot’s voice immediately. “I’ve been asked to return him to Asteria, too.”

The Tikati did not respond. It did not move.

Holy shit, Belloc. What are you trying to do?
Was this some new plan of Blaze’s?
 

After a few moments, the liaison asked, “Why do you want him?” in a tone that seemed to strain the limits of its usual calm.

“Those are my orders.”

Kitik turned his flickering eyes to J’ni. “Witness O’Riordan, do you have any idea why Earth would want to interfere in the proceedings of Tikat justice?”

Tikat justice was an oxymoron, as far as she was concerned. But, J’ni began to grasp the situation and kicked herself for not thinking of it before. “According to our laws, emissaries have legal immunity. We believe this is necessary to facilitate diplomatic relations, especially during conflict. I know that Tikat does not acknowledge the validity of Envoy Duin’s position, or the legality of the Freedom Council. But Earth does.”

“Then our detention of this particular Glin might be viewed as inappropriate, even though he is guilty of spying and insurrection?”

Yes, it’s fucking inappropriate
. “I think it’s safe to assume
all
envoys are guilty of spying, Liaison Kitik,” she said, hoping that he picked up on her implication of his own guilt. “So, that’s irrelevant. But any other crimes committed by an envoy would result in expulsion, not prolonged detainment or any other punishment.”

“I see.” He spoke to Belloc. “What will happen if I refuse?”

“I will return to Asteria Colony with Genevieve O’Riordan.”

“But, what would your leaders do?”

“I have no idea. Would you like to find out?”

The Tikati lifted its cloth-wrapped hand. “No, we do not wish to provoke those who, we hope, will soon be our allies. Wait here, and I will release the Glin into your custody. We can deal with him in the future.”

The Tikati left them standing in the rain.

J’ni moved beside Belloc. Up close, she could see several dents and dim spots on the back of his glowing spacesuit.

“So.” She left the word hanging in the narrow space between them.

“You left without telling me.” There was concern, and a slight rebuke, in his voice.

“I had to.”

“I know.” The two words were heavy with understanding.

There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but explanations would have to wait. All she could think about was seeing Duin again. Alive. J’ni did not dare to believe that it would be this easy.

They waited for almost twenty minutes before Kitik reappeared, leading Duin out of the building. It took every ounce of control she had not to run to Duin and hold him in her arms. His
wallump
suit was gone and he wore a hastily wrapped
bava
. His hands were covered in bandages thick with dried blood, and he was barefoot. He took several steps onto the platform, saw J’ni, and collapsed. Kitik stood by and watched Duin hit the wet ground.

“Get on the ship,” Belloc said to J’ni. His voice was quiet and calm, but firm.

J’ni dropped the
pitat
leaf and climbed aboard. She watched through the doorway as Belloc went to Duin and bent over him.

“Envoy Duin? Envoy Duin?” Belloc looked up at Kitik. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s not been well,” said the Tikati.

Duin opened his eyelids but his eyes were white. He spoke in Glinnish.
“Who are you? I thought I saw—”

“Can you walk, Envoy Duin?” Belloc interrupted in English, and helped him to his feet.

Duin looked confused, but he leaned on Belloc and staggered toward the ship. As J’ni climbed into the co-pilot’s seat, she heard Duin ask, “What in the Great Ocean is going on?”

Belloc didn’t answer until they were on board and the door closed between them and the Tikati. He carefully lowered Duin into a chair at the rear of the bridge and strapped him in.

“I think the word is
rescue
,” Belloc said. “Free. Save. Liberate.”

Duin’s face twisted in pain and rage as his bloody hands clutched the helmet covering Belloc’s head. “Belloc, where is J’ni?” he hissed. “I saw her.”

“I’m here, Duin.” She strapped herself into the padded seat so they could leave as quickly as possible.
“I am here, my love,”
she said in Glinnish.

Belloc sat in the pilot’s seat and prepared for take off.

Duin moaned. “You should have kept her as far away from Glin as possible.”

“It’s not his fault,” she said. “I left Asteria without telling him.”

“I came after her as soon as I could.” Belloc fired the engines and they lifted into the sky.

J’ni wouldn’t dare allow herself to feel a moment of triumph, until they were several thousand miles away.

“What ship is this?” Duin asked. “This isn’t a Tikati ship.”

“No.” Belloc removed his helmet and gloves and stowed them under his seat when they reached the clouds. His dark blue hands danced over the controls of the spacecraft as it angled through the atmosphere.

“When did you learn to fly an Earth ship?” J’ni asked him.

It was Duin’s voice, tired and strained, that answered. “The ships are the same,
nagloim
. I’ve long suspected your scientists and their ships didn’t disappear by accident, seven years ago. But this proves it.”

Scientists from Earth visited Glin and Tikat, both worlds close to Asteria and part of its binary star system. That was how Duin, via Tucloup, eventually got his translator. But some of the scientists sent to Tikat never returned.

They were out of range of the Asternet, so J’ni couldn’t l’up more info, but she remembered reading about it. “Their ships crashed because of the flaring of Proxima or something like that.”

“No,
nagloim
, I think the spacecrafts were captured, studied and replicated.”

J’ni was stunned by the thought. “So, if humans had never gone to Tikat, then the Tikati would never have invaded Glin?”

“As you say.” As soon as Belloc activated the ship’s gravity, J’ni got out of her seat and went to Duin. He looked exhausted and haunted. Kneeling in front of him, she unfastened his restraints and he fell forward into her arms, touching her gingerly with his bandaged hands.

“What did they do to you?”

His voice was a whisper. “They put me in a box.”

“A cell?”

“A
box.
I couldn’t move… I could barely breathe. I can hold my breath a long time, J’ni, but not that long.”

“What happened to your hands?”

“I tried to get out.”

Tears flooded her eyes in an overwhelming torrent of sorrow, sympathy, frustration and anger. Duin kissed her eyes, and her mouth, with the desperation of someone dying of thirst.

“I thought of you, J’ni, and how you slept when you were imprisoned. You
slept
. So, I tried to sleep, too. But they didn’t like that. That’s when they moved me to the room with the fire.”

“Are you burned?” She pulled at the
bava
to inspect his skin, but he waved his hand.

“No, no. They wanted to scare me. But you’re not afraid of fire, are you, J’ni?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I thought as much.” He reclined in the seat and shut his eyes.

Rest would help him heal his wounds, but what would heal his mind? She caressed his arm, the gray-green speckled skin cool and smooth, but lacking its usual luster.

Duin started to hum softly. She recognized the tune as the one she’d sung to him when he was in the med-block, after the bombing. She sang it again as Duin fell into a sleep she hoped would not be troubled by dreams of fire, confinement, or Tikati.

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