Blood of Denebria (Star Sojourner Book 4) (20 page)

“Get back!” Chancey whispered.

“I'm going to let them see me,” I said and stepped out of the tent.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Chancey whispered.

“They won't kill me. Older brother wants me alive. When they're close enough, I'll probe for the battery. When I have it, I'll lift my hand and scratch my head.”

“That's our signal,” Wolfie said, “to take down the three BEMs, send weed in for the SPS, and locate the battery.”

“That's it,” I whispered.

“Who is that?” one of the BEMs asked.

“It resembles a barren-of-dirt Terran,” another said.

I went back to the SPS, my heart pounding and pretended to be studying it.

“Welcome to our fold, Terran?”

I turned quickly, as though surprised. But dammit the three BEMs who slithered in had closed the flap behind them. I couldn't signal Chancey and Wolfie from in here, even if my probe for the battery were successful.

A tan-coated BEM drew his beam weapon and moved to my left on unsteady tentacles. He clasped an empty bottle in one tentacle. A shorter, narrower one, black-coated, perhaps young, slithered to my right and took a swig from his bottle. “How nice of him to walk into our tentacles,” he said and drew his weapon.

The tall gray one, about seven-feet in height, paused in front of me, his beamer pointed at my chest. “Have you found what you're looking for?” he asked me.

“Not yet. You want to help me find it?” I asked.

“Lift your two arms,” the gray one ordered, “away from the weapon that you wear.”

I did, and threw up my shields as I concocted a red coil within its walls. I spun it quickly. Grew it quickly. I was becoming proficient at this. When my head throbbed with the power I'd created, I dropped my shields and threw the coil at him with a message attached.
The battery!

He staggered back. The beamer in his hand wavered.

The battery!
I threw again.

And there it was. I don't think he could help the image that formed in his mind. A metal box, about two feet wide and high. Perhaps three feet long. Tucked in a dark corner of a tent between empty cots. It could only be one of two remaining dark tents.

The hive mind became aware of my invasion and attacked en masse. I threw my shields back up and retreated under the petals of the flower. The bees squeezed in after me and stung. I gritted my teeth against the pins of pain that flicked across my temples.

No need, brothers,
the gray one sent.
It doesn't matter that the Terran knows.
“You are a very powerful telepath,” he admitted. “All to the good. Older brother will drain your knowledge with ease.”

The bees lifted and found their way out of my shields. I let them drop again.

“I'll make a deal with you,” I told the gray one, while the black-coated BEM unstrapped my holster and slung it over his shoulder.

I lowered my hands. “I don't want to die. And I sure don't want to be eaten alive by Bountiful the Profuse.” That was no lie. “I know where DAB's HQ's is located. General Roothe and his officers are housed there. I could lead you and your brothers directly to them.”

His great yellow eyes blinked. “And in return?”

“My freedom. I never asked to get involved in
any
of this. The government doesn't pay me enough to get killed. I came here only as a consultant. But,” I shrugged, “I found myself enmeshed in the conflict. How about you take me to your leader? Older Brother wants me alive. Doesn't he?”

“Older brother is enjoying the festivities. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

“What're you brothers celebrating?” I asked casually.

“Tell him,” the gray one said. “I want to see the look on his face.”

The black-coated one cackled. “Why the coming invasion,
cousin.
Our fleet is already space-born.”

“On its way,” the tan-coated one added and staggered back.

I swear I felt the blood drain from my face. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “That should be quite a show. When will the fleet arrive?”

“The fireworks will begin at dawn tomorrow,” the tan-coated one said.

“Are you not afraid for your life?” the gray one asked me. “I am curious. What does life mean to a Terran?”

I held down anger as I thought of the Denebrian child who'd been ripped apart alive by the monster. I covered the image with false thoughts. “It means everything to me, brother. That's why I'm willing to cooperate.”

“I am not your brother,” the gray one said. “Older Brother will tap your mind for all you know of the Denebs and of Earth's military forces.”

“Whatever he wants.” I shrugged.

“Why do you lift your shoulders when you talk?”

“Just a Terran gesture,” I said, “like this one.” I lifted my hand and scratched my head.”

The gray BEM raised his shoulders and let them drop, then rubbed his furred head with a tentacle. He glanced at his comrades and cackled. “Come,” he said to me, in a friendly manner. “Older brother will decide what he wants to squeeze from your mind.” He cackled again and opened the flap.

I scratched my head again to get them used to the gesture, and walked through the flap. I waited for the three to be outside, then I lifted my hand and scratched my head.

A blue beam from my left cut through the night. The tan-coated BEM screamed and spun as he fell. Another beam, from my right, silently bored through the black-coated BEM's head. He fell without a sound. The gray BEM swung toward me. Two beams, from either side, sliced his mantle and left it hanging like a slab of meat as he went down, face forward, into the dirt. His hand, frozen on his beamer's trigger, burned the dirt and made it bubble.

“Go with the devil!” I said to their fleeing kwaiis as I took my holster and strapped it on. “Your kwaiis belong to him anyway.”

Chancey and Wolfie trotted up.

Chancey went into the tent to get the SPS. “I'll tie it to the travois,” he called back.

“Where's the battery?” Wolfie asked me.

I motioned to Weed to bring the horses forward. “Come on!” I told Wolfie and ran toward the tent that housed the battery.

Weed kept the animals in shadows as he came forward.

The battery lay between two empty cots like a foot locker. Good disguise that. That but not good enough. By the time Wolfie and I dragged it outside, Chancey and Weed were tying the SPS to the travois behind the white mare. We dragged the battery to them and they tied it down. “Listen!” I told the group. “Get back to Joe. Tell him…” I felt staggered by the weight of what I was about to say. “Tell him – “

Chancey paused and looked up at me.

“Tell him the invasion is set for dawn.”

“Tomorrow?” Chancey made the last knot.

I nodded. “Weed.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “I'm sorry. We didn't make it in time. The BEM fleet is on its way.”

“Mother fucker.” Chancey stood up and mounted the white mare.

“How bad will it be?” Weed rasped.

“Worse than you can imagine,” I said. “I'm sorry.” I took Asil's reins and mounted.
Uh oh.
I put a hand to my head. The hive mind had detected the death of the three BEMs and were zeroing in on me. By now, they would've alerted the rest of the garrison.

“Get out of here!” I yelled as BEMs began to pour out from lit tents. I turned Asil toward the dark mountains.

“This way!” Chancey called to me as the team headed for the landing site.

I reined in. “Can't, Chancey. They're already tracking me.” I kicked Asil's sides and he leaped into the night.

“Jules!” Chancey called.

I glanced back. The team was racing toward the landing site with the SPS and battery bouncing behind Chancey's white mare.

I'd given them every chance I could. The rest was up to them. Was Joe going to be pissed when I didn't show up. But I knew what I had to do. I was the decoy to lead the hive mind away from the team and the SPS.

Horses have good night vision, but that promise of rain had brought cloud cover and a drizzle, and this wild gallop was pushing it.

Behind me, the whine of hovairs. Searchlights played across bare patches and flickered between branches. The trees were taller as we raced into the foothills. Scrub brush was replaced by spruce and conifers, which offered more cover. Asil shied but kept his footing as a nocturnal hunter growled and fled with a rustling of leaves. He stumbled once and I pulled up his head. The stream I followed took a left turn and he slipped on wet rocks as we plunged through it. His sides heaved. Sooner or later he would lose his footing in this mad flight.

Like miniature space fighters, the hive surrounded me and attacked, diving, seeking breaches within the web I threw up inside my shields. Pinpricks of pain assailed my temples as the bees probed and burrowed, assaulting my optic nerves. My vision blurred and sharp pains shot through my head behind my eyes. The crotefuckers were trying to blind me! The stream became a silver blur of mercury. Ahead, it plunged into a pool seen darkly through my tunneling vision.

A hovair flew low over treetops with a whine like the wail of death. Its lights swept the ground, barely missing me. I urged Asil on. I would not be taken alive. That much I knew for certain.

I had an idea, born of desperation. I reined in by an overhang near the pool, slid off Asil's back and led him under the ledge. I tied his reins to his fetlock to hold him there, though after our hard run, he should have been walked to cool down. But I was in a fight for my life.

I stripped off my clothes, my shoes, opened the saddlebag and took out the fulgurite specimen. I slid down the bank of the pool and splashed into cold water. Water that was a barrier in my own tel probes, and with the help of Great Mind, a barrier for the hive too. I cupped my mouth around one end of the fulgurite, raised the other end above the surface, and slid underwater. I began to shiver immediately. But cold was preferable to death. I kept my eyes squeezed shut as small creatures brushed my cheeks. Even going one foot underwater increases pressure and I had to pull in air. But the pain behind my eyes lessened. The attacks into my tel cell clusters ceased.

Thank you, Great Mind,
I thought and trembled. I stayed in the pool until the sound of hovairs diminished. I was shaking so badly I feared hypothermia was setting in as I crawled onto the slippery bank. My vision cleared as I ran to Asil, still clutching the fulgurite, pulled a towel out of my saddlebag, and wiped myself dry before dressing.

I picked up the fulgurite tube and smiled. “When you're older, Lis',” I said, my hand shaking, “Dad will tell you how your present saved his life.” I put it back into the saddlebag and loosened the cinch to give Asil a break. My hands were still cold as I wrapped myself in my bedroll and led him to the water's edge for a drink.

Then we walked. He needed to cool down, and I needed to warm up. As we moved deeper into the hills, the wind whispered through pines like the sound of a running stream. The grass grew thick and high, with wildflowers nodding delicate heads. This could have been the Rockies of my home state, Colorado.
Parallel evolution,
I thought.

I paused on an outcrop with a clear view to the east and stared down at Northwest Village, huddled in a valley as though for protection. The BEM garrison, not far to the east, could've been part of the community. From here, anyway.

Tomorrow at dawn, those cloud-driven skies would be full of BEM warships, raking the villages to soften the peaceful Denebrians into absolute submission, and thousands of years of peace would be shattered. Even if Alpha was already notified by the team, it was too late to stop the invasion.

The BEM hovairs were gone. With the coming invasion, one Terran, tel or not, was probably not worth their trouble. If I knew Joe, he wouldn't take the team all the way back to the cliff hideout. By now, he'd contacted Alpha and was probably holed up in DAB's underground HQs, lending his expertise to the cause.

It would've been nice to remain in these lush, quiet mountains, studying alien lifeforms, away from the coming agony of war. I had almost retreated into the wilds of Syl' Terria when the hard-nosed police chief threatened to arrest me for the accidental death of a young volunteer at my animal sanctuary.

I twisted the reins in my hands. There are invisible bonds stronger than any iron. I tightened the cinch on Asil's saddle, mounted and turned his head toward Northwestern Village.

* * *

“Hi, Joe,” I said from the broken door of General Roothe's underground war room.

Joe sat in a central chair of the long wooden table, surrounded by Chancey, Wolfie, Reika, and Bat. Huff lay curled in a corner. General Roothe turned in his chair to look at me.

Joe seemed gaunt and tired as he rose from his seat. “Jules!”

Reika got up and came around the table.

“Reika!” Joe said.

She stopped as though she'd hit a glass door.

Huff looked up at me and drew back lips in a smile.

“Hi, big guy.” I said.

“If it ain't the superstar,” Chancey said. “Welcome home.”

“Glad you made it back.” Bat lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. Wolfie just watched and remained expressionless.

I bit my lip. “Did you, uh, contact Alpha?” I asked Joe.

Joe leaned his hands on the table. “You gave me your
word.
”

“Joe, let me explain.”

He came around the table.

Uh oh.
I backed to the door. “It was the hive – “

He followed. “I could have you executed for desertion under fire.”

“Executed?” I said. “Come on, Joe. Be serious!”

“You want serious?” He grabbed the front of my jacket and pushed me against the doorframe. Huff growled and rose to his back legs.

“No, Huff!” I said and wondered if Joe knew just how dangerous Huff could become. He thought of me as a cub and was capable of turning ferocious for my protection. “No, Huff,” I said again.

Joe shook me. “What do you think would have happened at the garrison if the rest of the team decided to run?”

“Run?” I grabbed his wrists. “I gave the rest of the team their chance to get away. The hive mind was – “

“We
needed
you at the landing site.” He pushed me against the wall. “We needed your tel to warn us that a BEM patrol was approaching.”