Authors: Joe Vasicek
Tags: #love, #adventure, #honor, #space opera, #galactic empire, #colonization, #second chances, #planetary romance, #desert planet, #far future
Jalil clucked his tongue and shook his
head. “Good Lord, what a dump. Here, I’ll pull off the bedsheets
for you. We should probably sleep in our clothes, but if you want
to change, there’s a public restroom down the hall. If you want, I
can watch the door for you.”
“
No, thanks. I’ll be
fine.”
He shrugged and went to work stripping
down the bed. Mira felt too tired to change, so once he was
finished, she curled up on the bare mattress with her face to the
wall.
“
Don’t worry,” he said,
covering her with a blanket from his pack. “I’m here for you. I’ll
protect you.”
The words stabbed her with guilt, but
she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. Jalil sat beside
her for a while before arranging a place for himself on the musty
floor.
I won’t betray your
trust,
she inwardly thought as the line
between dreams and reality slowly blurred.
Not unless I have to.
* * * * *
The sun was setting when Jalil and
Mira left the hostel and headed back out into the streets. Jalil’s
body ached from sleeping on the hard floor, and his clothes smelled
slightly of mildew. They still had a few hours before their train
arrived, but if they stayed any longer, they would have to pay for
another full night.
Sunset under the dome was a strange
affair. The glass ceiling stood so high that it was invisible for
most of the day. Towards the evening, however, the glass skewed the
sunlight in strange ways, making the sky appear much redder than
normal. As the sun set, a reflection off the glass to the east made
it look as if a second sun had appeared; the double shadows gave
the cityscape an eerie, otherworldly feel.
Jalil led them to a small cafe to wait
until the train arrived. It seemed as good a place as any, and the
food was cheap. A few heads turned to glance at their long desert
robes, but he had only to stare at them and narrow his eyes to make
them look away.
“
How much longer before we
leave?” Mira asked in a hushed voice. The desert tongue sounded
oddly refreshing after hearing nothing but New Gaian for most of
the day.
“
Not long,” he said,
watching the street through the cafe windows. “An hour,
maybe.”
Only minutes after sunset, night
descended upon the city like a black shroud. The sky was utterly
starless, and the moons, though visible, were noticeably blurred
through the glass. The only light came from the street lamps,
spaced far enough apart to cast more shadows than they dispelled.
If Jalil had known that the night would come so fast, he would have
led them to the platform earlier.
“
Come on,” he said,
slinging his rifle over his back as he rose to his feet. “Let’s
go.”
Mira kept close to him as he walked
down the darkened streets. A few hovercars passed them on the way,
but the city was mostly silent except for the rumbling of factory
machinery and the occasional buzzing street lamp.
After a few hundred yards, the street
turned in a direction Jalil hadn’t anticipated. He knew they were
close to the platform, but in the darkness of the night, everything
looked strange and unfamiliar.
“
Do you remember this
place?” he asked. Mira shook her head. He peered into one of the
darkened alleys, fingering the rifle strap with his free hand.
Garbage littered the ground, but the place seemed empty. Still,
anyone could be hiding in those shadows; better not to risk
it.
He backtracked for a while and tried
another side street, narrower than the first but still relatively
well lit. It led them down a row of identical three story
apartments that looked vaguely familiar, but went down a hill a
little further out, so he knew it wasn’t right.
“
Are we lost?” Mira
whispered. She took his arm and clung to him in the starless
dark.
“
No,” he said, hefting
their bags as he spun on his feet. “We’re doing fine. Besides,
we’ve got at least an hour until the train shows up. We’ll be all
right.”
He backtracked to the main street and
followed it down a little further, past the bend and toward the
factory at the center of the town. The stench of tomatoes here was
almost overwhelming, so that definitely wasn’t right. He tried
another side street, but like the others, it turned back in the
wrong direction after only a hundred yards.
The whistle of a coming train echoed
through the empty streets, confirming at the very least that they
were heading in the right direction. What’s more, it didn’t sound
very far. Perhaps if they cut through one of the alleys, they could
find their way faster. It would certainly be a lot faster than
backtracking.
At least, so he hoped.
“
Here,” he said to Mira,
“keep your hand on my arm, and do your best to keep up.”
“
What?”
“
Just stay close. We’re
going to take a shortcut.”
Her eyes widened a bit, but she kept
hold of his arm as he led them down one of the side alleys. The
stench of the garbage mingled with that of tomatoes from the
factory to produce a hideous smell, but he held his breath and
stepped quickly, keeping his eyes focused on the light from the
opening up ahead. They passed a few sleeping beggars, but got
through without any problems.
To Jalil’s dismay, the alley ended in
a courtyard, not a street. A couple of large trees stood at the far
end, while the brick walls of apartment buildings towered all
around them. A single lamp post stood in the center, illuminating
the open area.
Another alley led out of the courtyard
on the other side, heading the same direction. Undaunted, Jalil
pushed forward; this one was longer than the other, but the train
had sounded so close he had no doubt—
Midway through the alley, something
stirred in the shadows. Mira gasped, and Jalil turned to see three
dark figures silhouetted by the light from the courtyard, following
them.
“
Run,” he said. Mira did
not need to be told twice.
The men behind them shouted and gave
chase. The alley came to a wall and turned abruptly, but it opened
up a few dozen yards down. If they could reach the street
before—
Three more figures stepped out from a
doorway, blocking their path. Two of them pulled out knives and
held them as if ready to dart forward and attack. The silvery
blades glittered in the darkness, reflecting one of the streetlamps
not ten yards away.
Jalil stopped and dropped his bags,
making ready to unsling his rifle. Before he could, Mira let out a
muffled yelp; the men behind them had caught up, and one of them
now held her with one hand covering her mouth. As she kicked and
struggled against her captor’s grip, a knife blade flashed near her
throat.
“
Stay where you are,” came
a rough voice. Mira stopped struggling, her eyes wide with
terror.
“
Drop the gun.”
Jalil spun around, looking for an
opening, but he was surrounded. A tall, skinny man stepped forward,
his bedraggled face partially covered in shadow. He reached out and
took hold of the rifle. At first, Jalil refused to let it go, but
hands grabbed him from behind, and someone pressed the edge of a
blade against his neck. He drew a deep breath and released
it.
“
Impressive,” said the
robber, running his filthy hands over the weapon. “It’s not every
day you see something like this, eh?”
“
Let us go,” Jalil
hissed.
“
Why?” said the man. He
glanced up and grinned, revealing a set of grimy teeth. From the
deference that the others gave him, Jalil guessed he was the
leader.
“
What do you want from
us?”
“
That depends entirely on
what you have.” The man flicked his wrist, and two of the robbers
stepped forward with the bags. As Jalil watched, they opened them
and began to spill their contents on the filthy ground.
Mira whimpered, and Jalil turned to
catch sight of her out of the corner of his eye. Her captor held
her with both arms twisted painfully behind her back, his other
hand covering her mouth. Thankfully, the knife was no longer at her
throat, but Jalil’s blood still boiled to see her treated so
roughly. He clenched his hands behind him into fists, but
suppressed his rage; if he fought back now, one of them might be
killed.
“
Well, what have we here?”
said the leader. A horrible sinking feeling formed in Jalil’s gut
as the man pulled out the bag with the cash datachips and poured
them into one hand. The others crowded around like a flock of
vultures.
“
Not bad,” said the
leader, ignoring Jalil’s furious glare. “Not bad at all.” He set
the rifle down and spent a few moments distributing the datachips
among his men, then turned to Mira.
Blood rushed to Jalil’s cheeks as the
man reached out with his filthy hands and stroked her neck. Mira
whimpered and grew tense as he stared hungrily at her uncovered
face.
“
Let’s make this fast,”
said the leader, unbuckling his belt. “Everyone gets a turn,
starting with me. As for the—”
Something inside of Jalil snapped. He
shouted with rage and tore himself free, knocking aside his
captor’s knife with his elbow. The man hesitated for an instant,
just long enough for Jalil to spin around and face him.
Adrenaline surged through his body
like lightning, and time slowed to a crawl. The man lunged forward
to strike with his knife, but Jalil caught his hand and redirected
it into his stomach. The would-be attacker’s eyes grew wide with
shock; in the dim light of the distant street lamp, Jalil could
clearly make out every bit of stubble on his chin, the droplets of
sweat on his furrowed brow, the half-rotted teeth in his now gaping
mouth—everything. He took hold of the knife and ripped it out
across the man’s belly, slicing through his flesh as if he were
just a dumb animal. Blood spurted from his wounds, and he fell
silently to the ground, clutching at his midsection as his
intestines spilled out across the broken concrete.
Jalil spun around with the knife in
his hand, expecting the robbers to jump on him at any second. To
his surprise, they stood as still as statues, mouths gaping wide. A
knife clattered to the ground, and one of the men turned and ran
back toward the courtyard. The one holding Mira dropped her and
joined him, while the other two did the same, fleeing in the
opposite direction.
“
Wait!” shouted the
leader, his voice tinged with fear. “Don’t—” his eyes met Jalil’s
and widened in terror, the hunter becoming the hunted.
Jalil screamed and lunged forward, but
the man snatched the rifle from the ground and blocked his attack,
knocking him aside. For an instant, it looked as if he would
attack, but instead he dropped the rifle and grabbed Mira, holding
her in front of him like a shield. From his belt, he produced a
long curved knife, which he pressed against her neck.
“
Don’t move!” he screamed.
“Don’t move, or I’ll—”
In one smooth motion, Jalil retrieved
his rifle and sighted it between the man’s eyes. The sharp crack of
the gunshot echoed through the alley as the kick of the recoil
rammed against his shoulder. The man arced up into the air, and for
a moment he seemed to float there, a thin line of blood trailing
from the middle of his forehead. A moment later, he fell to the
concrete with a sickening splat.
“
Oh Lord!” Mira gasped,
running to Jalil and throwing her arms around him in fright. He
lowered the rifle and held her with one arm to comfort her. As the
adrenaline high of the last few moments wore off, exhaustion swept
over him, leaving his knees weak and his head dizzy. He blinked and
stared at the aftermath of the fight: two men down, both lying in
pools of their own blood, both unmoving.
He took a deep breath and shouldered
his rifle. Mira had fallen to her knees and was now sobbing, her
whole body trembling from shock at the fight. A little bit of blood
had gotten on the hem of her robes, but other than that she was
uninjured. Jalil’s hand was bloody from the man he’d disembowled;
he tore off a piece of the leader’s shirt and used it to wipe
himself off.
It had all happened so fast, with no
time to think. Jalil had expected the men to put up more of a
fight; the way they’d fled, it was as if they had no shame, no
honor.
He looked to the bags, their contents
spilled across the ground, and his pounding heart skipped a beat.
The money—where was it? Kneeling over the dead leader, he hastily
searched through the man’s pockets, but only came up with three
cash datachips—three, out of what had once been over a
dozen.
He unslung the rifle and for a moment
thought about going after the robbers, but Mira’s quiet sobbing
made him stop. He shouldered his rifle and returned to
her.
“
Are you all right?” he
asked, offering her his hand. She nodded mutely and took it, and he
helped her to her feet.
“
We’d better get moving
again,” he muttered. “They’ll be back before long.”
He glanced down at the two bodies as
she bent over to retrieve their bags. Killing them had been so
easy—so frighteningly easy. Still, he told himself, Mira was alive
and well—that was the important thing.