Authors: Catherine Spangler
Her expression perplexed, she walked over and stared out the portal.
"What do you see, Moriah?"
"I'm not sure. Everything is a distance away. There's smoke, and piles of refuse."
"See any signs of life?"
"No. No people or animals." She turned back to him. "What is this place?"
"I guess you've never seen a colony that's been razed by Anteks."
Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, Spirit!" She whirled back to the portal, clutching the frame. "Oh…no."
Oh, yes
. And she couldn't begin to imagine the terror of experiencing it firsthand. Grasping her shoulders, Sabin turned her toward him. "That was a Shielder settlement, Moriah. Someone reported its location to the Controllers. At least two hundred men, women, and children are dead."
She stared at him, emotion churning in her eyes.
"Swear to me," he demanded fiercely. "Promise me you'll never tell anyone about the colony we landed at after we left Calt.
Swear it
!"
A tremor ran through her body, but her gaze remained steady. "I swear," she said. "On my honor and my life, I give you my word I will never tell anyone about that colony." She looked toward the portal. "How horrible."
"Yeah." He released her before she could feel his own trembling, and put on his helmet.
"Sabin." Her hand on his arm reverberated through him. He looked up. The compassion in her eyes wrapped around his soul. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
He felt an inexplicable need to touch her. Reaching out, he cupped his hand against her cheek, watched her surprise. Her skin was warm and soft, but the woman beneath was solid. She had endured terrible life circumstances, yet emerged strong and sure.
He had the sudden urge to crush her to him, to absorb her unwavering strength. Instead, he murmured, "Just stay safe, okay?" Drawing back, he strode to the hatch and opened it. "Secure the entry behind me and don't admit anyone else. Contact me on the comm link if you need me." He started out.
"Sabin."
He turned, amazed to see worry in Moriah’s eyes. "Spirit be with you," she said quietly.
The blessing washed over him like a warm tide. Her unexpected concern gave him a kernel of strength he desperately needed. He nodded brusquely and stepped though the hatch … into hell.
He'd landed a few hundred meters from the colony, but even from here, the unmistakable reek of burned bodies assaulted his senses. A gray haze, created by smoldering piles of debris, drifted over the settlement. The past raced up to engulf him. His heart pounded against his chest. The blood rushed in his ears. He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.
Have to breathe…
"Sabin!" The shout shattered his paralysis. He whirled, bringing up his rifle, ready to discharge.
"Whoa!" Jarek san Ranul held up a hand. "It’s me."
It took a moment for Sabin to free himself from the maelstrom. The rifle dropped to his side. "Sorry."
Jarek lowered his hand. "Didn't mean to trigger your battle stance. Didn't you hear me calling? Feel my presence?"
Normally Sabin was acutely sensitive to the innate awareness all Shielders possessed for identifying other Shielders. That very ability, along with a natural mind shield that prevented Controller mental indoctrination, had thus far prevented the wholesale destruction of their race. But seeing the carnage of Nissar numbed him to all awareness.
"Guess I was distracted by this—" He gestured toward what had been a functioning Shielder colony, at a loss for words. Not sure he could have forced them past his constricted throat.
"Yeah," Jarek said, his expression as sickened as Sabin felt. "This…abomination." He stared at the remains and then pulled out an infrared scanner. "Let's get this over with."
Neither Jarek nor Sabin had picked up any signals from Antek or slaver ships, nor had they seen any scavenger ships while orbiting. There could be hidden ships, though, so they remained on alert. Barring that, they had only one goal. Look for survivors.
Like Sabin had been. A young boy of six seasons, huddled beneath the bloodied body of his mother, eluding slavers. Cold, terrified. Now, lurching forward, he forced back the images, battling to keep his focus in the present.
Weapons drawn, the two men walked across the blackened ground. The smell worsened as they approached the remains of the colony, forcing them to lower the visors on their helmets. But even that couldn't obliterate the stench of decomposing bodies.
Nor could they close their eyes to the massacre. To the sightless eyes staring up, or the expressions of terror on half-destroyed faces. Nor to the absolute destruction. Broken bodies, broken household items, broken toys. Nothing spared. Men, women, children, babies, animals. The Anteks had been thorough.
Don't think. Don't feel.
Sabin willed himself not to look directly at the bodies, but rather at the peripherals. It seemed like he was in a tunnel, the only light a patch of gray far, far, at the end. A great weight bore down on him, making it increasingly difficult to go forward.
Keep walking. Get through this.
He shifted his attention to the energy all living Shielders exuded, trying to pick up another life presence. Jarek's infrared scanner would pick up anything that might be moving. Nissar was a small moon, and it wouldn't take long to search.
They both sensed it at the same time. A faint vibration from a living Shielder. Weak, but alive, it was coming from a pile of rubble about ten meters ahead. They quickened their pace. A sound behind them had both men whirling, weapons primed. Moriah stood there, holding the gun. Sabin raised a restraining hand toward Jarek. "Don't fire! She's with me."
"Blazing hells!" Jarek snapped. "You should have warned me, man. I almost killed her."
"I expected her to follow orders." Sabin lowered his shaking arm. Adrenaline still rushing through him, he turned his ire on Moriah. "What are you doing out here? I told you to stay on the ship."
She stiffened, her chin lifting. "I thought you might need backup." She swallowed, looking at the devastation. She turned back to Sabin. "In case there were any Antek patrols around."
She looked so pale, he feared she might faint. "Get back to the ship," he ordered. "I don't have time to deal with this and you at the same time."
Her eyes narrowed. "I don't need any support. I came to offer assistance. But from the looks of things…" Her gaze drifted again, and she shuddered. "It appears we're too late to help anyone."
Despite her harsh life, despite living with shadowers, she'd probably never seen much death, especially bodies so horribly massacred. Sabin wished he could claim the same.
"We need to investigate that pile, and quickly," Jarek interjected. "And she's not—" He hesitated.
"It’s okay,” Sabin said. “She knows about us, what we are. She won't tell anyone about what she saw here, or report us. "
Suspicion glinted in Jarek's dark brown eyes, but he apparently decided not to challenge Sabin's judgment. Besides, what was the sense of trying to protect the identity of this colony now?
Sabin turned to Moriah. "If you won't return to the ship, then keep an eye out while we look for survivors."
She nodded, and he and Jarek headed toward the life force. Nothing moved as they approached the rubble, but the vibration grew in strength. They knelt by the mound and quickly shifted debris aside.
"Don't be afraid," Jarek called out. "We're here to help you. Come out if you can."
They saw movement, the pile heaving. They pulled back a large rock, uncovering a depression in the ground. Huddled there, covered with cuts and filth, lay a shivering young boy. The sight of the terrified child hit Sabin like a fist to the gut. It had been over twenty-four seasons, but he remembered every detail as if it were yesterday.
Shaking almost as badly as the boy, he reached out. "It's okay. You're safe."
The boy shrank back. "No!" he screamed. "No, no! Mommy! Mommy, where are you? Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!"
He tried to scramble away, but Jarek cut him off. He whirled around, and Sabin snagged him, pulling him close. "It's okay. We won't hurt you. We're here to help you."
The boy struggled and kicked, despite their reassurances. Finally, he went limp, quivering like a trapped kerani. "Mommy. Mommy," was all he would say.
Sabin closed his eyes, battling déjà vu. No one deserved to face this.
* * * *
Moriah rocked the boy against her, cooing soft, nonsensical words of reassurance, while Sabin and the man called Jarek searched for more survivors. The child clung to her so tightly she could barely breathe. She had moved him to a flat rock away from the carnage, but close enough to keep watch. The gun and stunner lay beside her.
She'd never seen such destruction. Those bodies, the twisted faces, the stench. And the little ones. Oh, Spirit, the little ones. Children and babies. The images would be forever imprinted on her mind. No wonder Shielders guarded their settlement locations with their lives—and with the lives of those who discovered them.
She hugged the boy closer, waves of emotion rolling through her. She felt nausea, horror, unadulterated fury toward the Controllers. They were the ones who propagated the destruction of Shielders; the ones who paid large rewards for information on Shielder colonies, then sent Anteks to do their dirty work.
Then there were the shadowers, those despicable beings who hunted Shielders and numerous other wanted "felons" and turned them over to the Controllers in exchange for gold. It didn't matter that many so-called criminals were innocent, or had done nothing other than being born to an unlucky race. Nor did it matter that they suffered agonizing torture before they were executed. All that mattered to shadowers was the gold.
She knew all too well how shadowers operated, her father and Pax prime examples. As far as she was concerned, they were lower than Anteks, because Anteks were stupid brutes who didn't know right from wrong. Most shadowers were intelligent, crafty trackers. They knew what they were doing. They just didn't care, as long as they got their gold.
She hated them all. If she ever saw her own father again, she'd shoot him dead on the spot. And Pax—well, she'd turn the bastard over to Lionia for a slow, painful death by flaying.
Sabin and Jarek appeared from the other end of the settlement and headed toward the rock. Their grim faces and empty hands indicated the outcome of their search: no more survivors. There was only the one lone boy, now orphaned and emotionally scarred for life. They stopped at the rock, sliding their weapons onto their belts. Sabin appeared remote, withdrawn, his face like granite. His bleak gaze rested on Moriah and the boy, but he didn't seem to see them.
Jarek shook his head. "Nothing more to do here." He held out his arms. "I'll take the boy with me."
The child clutched Moriah tighter, burrowing his head against her chest. "What will you do with him?" she asked, her protective instincts on full alert.
"I'll take him to my colony. He'll live with one of the families there."
"A Shielder colony," she stated bluntly.
Jarek paused, then nodded.
Another Shielder settlement, another target for the Controllers' hatred. "It won't be safe," she protested, loath to send this frail child to face further danger.
Jarek's face hardened as he looked at the destruction around them. "Is anywhere safe for us?" he asked harshly. "Would the boy be better off among those who want him dead?"
She bit her lip. What could she say?
"It's all he knows. It's
what
he is," Jarek said. "If he lives in the outside world, he'll be at risk for discovery and far greater dangers."
As much as her runaway emotions made her want to argue, he was right. The rational logic he offered couldn't be denied. The boy belonged where he would be understood and accepted. There he could have a family, something Moriah had never had, outside of Celie.
She whispered to the child, "Sweetness, you need to go with Jarek. He'll find a new family to take care of you."
He shook his head vehemently. "Mommy. I want Mommy!"
She relinquished her hold on the boy and Jarek gently pried him away. Cradling the child against him, he turned to Sabin. "Thanks for helping out here, Travers. I'm sorry you had to go through this again. I know it was tough."
Again?
Sabin had been through a similar experience before? Moriah stared at him, noting his shuttered expression, the starkness in his eyes.
He clasped Jarek's outstretched hand. "I'll get by. Take care of that boy. See that he gets with a family who wants him." Without a word to her, he turned and strode toward the ship.
She leaned over to press a kiss against the boy's muddy cheek. "Take good care of him," she told Jarek. She scooped up the weapons and headed after Sabin.
He walked swiftly, his back ramrod-straight. Practically running to catch up, she thought about him going through such a horrendous experience before. Once was enough to last a lifetime. Had he actually been a victim in a colony that was attacked, or had he only investigated the remains of one?
His reaction today was understandable. With a jolt, she realized that reaction had started two cycles ago when Jarek contacted him. He'd become withdrawn and moody. She'd been too caught up in her own concerns about the iridon and her irritation at his apparent lack of trust or gratitude to pay much attention.
Out of breath, she reached the ship and stepped through the open hatch. Standing inside, Sabin closed the hatch. Silent, he went to the weapons vault and pitched in his weapons and armor. Leaving the vault open, he strode into the cockpit.
Moriah followed more slowly, placing the gun and stunner inside the vault and straightening the things Sabin had tossed in. He'd given her a weapon to defend herself. Told her to take his ship and flee if he didn't come back. Stroked her face with startling gentleness.
Just stay safe, okay?
She closed the vault and rested her forehead against it. She didn't like the tender emotions trying to push into her heart. Didn't need this crazy warmth flowing through her veins, accompanying thoughts of Sabin. Didn't need to become involved with any man. She would never place her trust in a man, or ever again allow a man power over her. Never.