Authors: Sara King
“Bagkhal
wouldn’t defect.”
Maggie’s reply
was a smug smile. “Your pet Dhasha commandeered the ship that was taking him
to his next assignment. Forced the pilot to set him down on Neskfaat. Then he
killed everyone on board.”
“He wouldn’t
defect.”
“We found his
ship last week when we began maintaining surface superiority on Neskfaat,”
Maggie said. She leaned back against her desk, watching him. “Search and
rescue teams took vidchips of Bagkhal killing the crew off the ship’s security
systems. Scale patterns match Bagkhal’s.”
Joe let out a
breath. “We’re so burned.”
“Excuse me?”
“Who’s the Vahlin?”
Joe said. “How did he get someone like Bagkhal to fight for him?”
“You know the
legend.”
“He’s a
reincarnate of the warlord that first subjugated the Takki,” Joe said. “Destined
to free the Dhasha from their ‘servitude.’ How about you let me out of this
cage now?”
“Why?” Maggie
laughed, plucking a cherry from the bowl on her desk and popping it into her
mouth. Spitting out the seed into a bowl beside her, she smiled at him and
said, “So you can run off and your Second can go bring you back again?”
Joe stiffened.
“Yes,” she said,
a malicious grin forming on her face, “I knew about that.”
“Then why—”
“Because I’m
smarter than you, Joe,” she said, taking another cherry. “I knew you fried
your tag.” She put it between her lips and pulled the fruit free of the stem.
Joe groaned.
“Why’d you leave the Huouyt locked in his room?”
Maggie spat out
the seed and grinned. Shoving herself from her desk, she strode over to him
almost seductively. “Because I wanted a few private moments with you.” She
smiled and made as if to stroke his chest, only she did it six ninths away from
the blue-black barrier. “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”
“Cut the furgsoot
and send me to the brig. You keep me here much longer and I’m going to end my
misery.” He made a motion like he was about to step through the containment
field.
Maggie’s
flickering orange eyes darkened. “Peacemakers are investigating you, you
know.”
“The Peacemakers
are always investigating me.” He gave her a tight grin. “Thanks.”
“This time it’s
different.”
Interesting.
Joe thought of Be’shaar and how he doubted he was anything less than Eighth
Hjai. “Oh? How so?”
Maggie smiled up
at him, her teeth carrying the malice of a cat’s. Instead of answering his
question, she said, “I received an order earlier today concerning your last two
weeks. Seems someone important’s been deceived by your pretty
kasjas.
”
The orange flames dancing in front of her pupils flickered. “They told me to
drop the AWOL charge.”
“So I’m free to
go?”
“Oh,
absolutely.”
She walked to
the wall and de-activated the security system, leaving Joe free to move once
more. She motioned at the door. “By all means, Joe. Go back to drinking
yourself stupid. I won’t press charges. I’d enjoy seeing you waste the rest
of your pathetic life away.”
“Great. Thanks,
Mag. You’re a doll.” Joe turned and left.
#
“You still
there?”
Jer’ait twisted
around to stare at the intercom. The Human had switched on the camera on his
side. He was looking in at Jer’ait, somehow stifling the smugness that Jer’ait
knew he was feeling.
“What do you
want, Human?” It was more curt than he intended, and he cursed himself for
once again allowing the Human to get under his skin.
“Haven’t called for help
yet, huh?” The Human sounded intrigued. And amused. Damn him. “How long you
planning on sitting in there alone in the dark?”
Jer’ait felt his pride
prickle before he squashed it. “It’s not dark.”
The Human fiddled with
the console outside and the room around Jer’ait went completely black.
Jer’ait felt a flicker of
rage for the first time in turns. “You didn’t come to bait me.”
“No, but it’s fun.” The Human
grinned at him. “You really here to be my Second?”
“I already told you yes,”
Jer’ait gritted.
“What’s your real name,
Be’shaar?”
Jer’ait felt like
strangling something. He knew that the Human would have found out eventually,
but he had wanted to reveal it at his own pace.
Damn
the Human.
Realizing the Human was
still waiting, he reluctantly said, “Kha’vola.”
The Human laughed, and it
sent waves of fury coursing through Jer’ait’s borrowed veins.
“Is that so,” the Human
said, once he had stopped laughing.
“You’ve heard of me?”
Jer’ait demanded.
“How about I let you out
when you feel like telling the truth.”
“That
is
the
truth,” Jer’ait snapped.
“Well, don’t be too
upset, but I’ve been around too many Huouyt to think you tell the truth on the
second go. Maybe the seventh or the eighth, out of boredom, but not the
second.”
Jer’ait smiled, despite
himself. “We’re to be groundmates. We’ll have to learn to trust each other.”
And then I will carve out your liver, you miserable cretin.
The Human snorted.
“Yeah, right.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I got an appointment with Jim
Beam. Like, any tic now.”
“Your brother is due to
be executed in three weeks,” Jer’ait said, leaning forward with interest. “I
can help you rescue him,” he promised. “You’ll find no one better.”
The Human laughed.
“You’re probably right. But, like I said, I don’t trust you.”
Jer’ait frowned. “I am
not lying. I’d enjoy assisting you.”
The Human continued to
chuckle. “Look. I’m just a PlanOps thug and you’re just a wannabe Va’ga
reject who heard too many rumors about Jer’ait Ze’laa and thinks he’s a trained
assassin. We’d never stand a chance and I know it.”
Jer’ait scowled at the Human,
fighting his frustration. “Your brother is going to die if you don’t let me
help you.”
“I’m not falling for
it.” The Human shifted his attention to the door as he punched something into
the access pad on the other side. “And unless you swallow your pride and call
some tech guys, the only way you’re getting out of that room is by figuring out
what Kophat means. I’ll even leave you access to the net, to make it easier
for you.” The Human punched in a few more commands and the net option appeared
before Jer’ait. Then the Human’s face tightened. “Me, I’m going to go watch
my brother’s execution on primetime. I hear it’s going to have a light-show.”
“Kophat?” Jer’ait asked,
trying to stall him. “That’s where you were trained.”
The Human laughed and
walked away.
Perplexed,
irritated that the Human had refused his offer to help, Jer’ait went to the net
and began to search files of Kophat.
It was a basic
training planet for thirty-two different species, plus had held high-tech
Congressional weaponry as a depot before the last major Huouyt rebellion.
Jer’ait frowned
when he realized that the dates of the Huouyt rebellion coincided with the date
of Joe’s basic training on Kophat. Joe had gotten his first
kasja
in
helping a Dhasha prince retake the planet from Representative Na’leen.
Jer’ait sat
back, frowning at that page. It made no sense. Why had Representative Na’leen
allowed the Human recruits to penetrate his bunker? Why, when he could have
simply sealed himself inside and launched an
ekhta
at Koliinaat without
fear of any reprisals?
Huouyt were
intelligent, more so than any other species in the universe aside from the
legendary—and nearly extinct—Geuji. Na’leen had been smarter than most, ruling
the Huouyt from the Regency on Koliinaat for almost three hundred turns.
Jer’ait knew this, yet as he began making connections between the dead
Representative Na’leen and Joe Dobbs, he began to feel a coldness creeping
along his
breja.
Na’leen
invited Joe inside. It’s the only way Joe’s groundteam could have gotten past
his Sentinels.
Confused,
Jer’ait closed the common net and accessed the Peacemaker records.
Jer’ait scanned
the files for hours, but out of all of them, only one other Huouyt, a meager
four-point, had found it at all suspicious. But at the time, the Huouyt had
been generally despised for their attempt to fulfill the Fourfold Prophecy, and
when he had received the report, Prince Bagkhal had sent the four-point off to
count Trosska in the ruvmestin mines. Before he left for the mines, the Huouyt
Battlemaster had tried to get Joe court-martialed, but his Secondary Commander
had simply denied the request. After all, Na’leen was dead. Killed himself
after Joe trapped him. Twelve witnesses said that Joe had saved Congress.
Only one little girl had said otherwise.
Maggie.
Immediately, Jer’ait typed her name into the room’s passcode prompt. The
system immediately rejected it.
Frowning,
Jer’ait leaned back. Maggie’s account that Joe had betrayed them all did not
make sense. Yet the more he looked at the reports, the more the official story
didn’t make sense, either.
There were at
least a dozen eyewitnesses that said Joe had killed a Jreet by himself, with
nothing but a knife.
Impossible.
Impossible,
unless the Jreet hadn’t tried to defend itself…
Jer’ait’s eyes
widened. Could Na’leen have had access to the same prophecy that the Trith had
delivered to Yua’nev? Could he have expected Joe to help him fulfill the
Fourfold Prophecy? And Joe had turned him down?
It would not
make a difference to Yua’nev, even if it were true. Still, it provided an
interesting insight into the Human’s mentality.
But how does
this help me?
Jer’ait wondered.
Does it help me to understand what
Kophat means?
Then, frustrated, he thought,
Means to who? Means to
Joe? Or means to Congress? Or did he study linguistics and knows Kophat means
‘Violet Sky’ in Ooreiki Common?
There were just
too many options. As Jer’ait stared at the console, he imagined all the
different passcodes having to do with Kophat that the Human could have used to
lock the room. He began entering them as he thought of them, beginning with
the names of his four dead groundmates, then his instructors, then
Representative Na’leen and the names of his five closest advisors. When that
didn’t work, he began entering cities and areas Joe had visited while on
Kophat. After getting nowhere with those, he tried the names of all the gear
and items a Congie had to use while training on Kophat. He tried every keyword
he could imagine.
He probably
spelled it wrong,
Jer’ait cursed finally.
Nothing but a stupid,
uneducated Congie.
He blinked.
Joe had chosen
Congress over the rebels.
Joe had chosen
to become a Congie.
Tentatively,
Jer’ait typed in the new password.
With a quiet
hiss, the doors of the room opened and the light from the hall pierced his
prison.
“Where is he?” a
deep voice demanded immediately, from the air almost half a rod above his head.
Jer’ait stepped
into the hallway and looked up at his Battlemaster. “No need for alarm.”
“You let him
escape, didn’t you?” A massive crimson fist smashed into the wall beside
Jer’ait’s head, shattering it to dust.
“I know where he
is,” Jer’ait said calmly.
“That’s it. No
more coddling this Human. You’ve tried twice and failed twice. Now we do
things
my
way.”
Jer’ait opened
his mouth to argue, then, seeing there was no argument, sighed. “Very well.”
Joe slipped out
of the barracks needing a drink.
He’d logged into
the news network after leaving the Huouyt in his room. What the Huouyt had
said was true. The Vahlin had blown up one of the three Jreet planets. A
third of the Jreet population, dead.
Not only that,
but he had somehow gathered one hundred and thirty-four princes to his cause.
Not loners, not young, but
princes
. Every one of them with his heirs
and kin and mates and Takki in tow.
Joe had heard of
wars that had lasted over a hundred turns just fighting
one
prince. The
idea of fighting over a hundred was enough to make any man’s gut queasy.
Congress would
need every man they could get.
“Damn it,” Joe
muttered, finding a seat at the bar. He ordered whiskey, and gladly locked his
hand around the glass when it came. He closed his eyes and drank, trying not
to listen to the ongoing news accounts of his nefarious younger brother
constantly blaring in the background.
He had no more taken
his first swallow when a massive scarlet hand clamped down on his wrist, almost
breaking bones.
“The Huouyt said
I could find you here.”
A force like a
Congressional cannon ripped Joe away from the bar and threw him across the
room. Patrons of the bar began screaming all around him. Joe’s aggressor let
him hit the ground hard in a sprawl and began dragging him before Joe even
realized he had fallen from his chair.
“Son of a
bitch!” Joe screamed, twisting. Whatever was holding him was
strong.
He kicked out, knocking tables aside, breaking chairs. “Let go of me, asher!”
“Of course.”
Whatever it was lifted Joe off the ground and hurled him into the wall twenty digs
away. Joe caught a glimpse of red—a
lot
of red—before he was being torn
out of the wreckage. “I am done chasing your soft, oily hide across the
planet, Human.” A red and gold blur filled Joe’s vision, before disappearing
again. The harsh voice continued, “The Huouyt might have the patience to
pamper you, but I’m tired of your Takki crap. They won’t let us go to Neskfaat
until we collect our groundteam. You will get on that shuttle if I have to
drag you there by your bulbous head.”