Eden's Children (Earth Exiles Book 2) (29 page)

BOOK: Eden's Children (Earth Exiles Book 2)
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They’d arrived in the target area three hours before sun up.  After infiltration, it had taken them an hour to move to this position.  It would take them another hour to move into position for the assault on the village.

He had thirty men, a full sub-Caen.  The other twenty men arrived two days after he talked to Lord Caen Rathon.  He’d moved quickly to integrate them into his command.  He’d trained them so that they were close to the standards that the Lord Caen expected.  He’d been amazed at how poorly they’d done at the outset of training.  After he beat the first one into a coma, they paid close attention to what he wanted.  Once their skills were at acceptable levels, he broke his men into three groups of nine for the main assault force, and one comprised of three scouts, who were now operating ahead of the main force. 

Jarni Mig was waiting for the initial report from sub-Carthar Leviti, the leader of the scouts.  Leviti was new to Jarni Mig’s command, but he was a good soldier. He stood out during training, so Jarni Mig promoted him to sub-Carthar, and put him in charge of two other soldiers to be scouts.  Leviti didn’t have much training as a scout, but Jarni Mig didn’t have any soldiers that had.  The slave raids had weakened his soldiers.  They hadn’t met any strong resistance in years, the local thregari unable to stand against the advanced weapons that the Turinzoni soldiers carried.  That was a problem that Jarni Mig was going to change.  It would be good for his career to be the man to re-instill discipline among the Lord Caen’s soldiers.

Now the soldiers lay in position, waiting for his order to move forward.  The sounds of bodies shifting were countered by sub-Carthars threatening to skin the next man that moved.

“We’re approaching the target, Carthar,” Leviti reported.

“What do you see?”

“Nothing, Carthar.  It looks like they’re all asleep.”

“Are you sure they’re there?”

“Yes Carthar.  I can see smoke from fires.  I watched one of the older thregari come outside to relieve themselves.”

“Stay in place.  If anything moves when we walk in, I want to know about it.”

“Yes Carthar.  Carthar, there is one thing that you need to know about.”

“What is it?”

“There seems to be a large group of animals around the area, hundreds of them.”

“Why is this a concern?”

“They may alert the village,” Leviti replied.

Jarni Mig thought about it, “Let me know if they start moving.  Hopefully we can swarm the village before anybody can react to a warning.”

“Yes, Carthar.”

Jarni Mig called his three Sub-Carthars, and told them to move forward.  The Turinzoni soldiers stood up and started walking forward.  They made some noise as they stood up, but it wasn’t too bad.  With the thregari sleeping, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.  The three units moved forward in a straight line, traveling down the path that led to the village.  Jarni Mig was pleased with his soldiers.  Everything was going well.  Nothing moved, and the men were quiet on the path.

The world exploded.  The flash and overpressure his senses.  Something hit him and he went down.  His night vision shut down from the glare.  He was blind as the screams of his men filled the air. He heard the sound of Turinzoni rifles opening up.  He heard several thregari yell a strange, guttural word, “Grenade!”  More men started screaming as additional explosions shattered the world around him.  He heard one of his sub-Carthars yelling to break contact.  His night vision slowly came back on, revealing the devastation around him.

His men were shooting, trying to move out of the kill zone.  The sub-Carthar’s yells turned to screams as arrows filled the air.  Fewer and fewer rifles returned fire.  Jarni Mig turned over onto his stomach, and started clawing at the ground, trying to crawl away from the arrows hitting the ground around him.  His legs weren’t working, and he couldn’t move very fast.  The smell of gore filled the air.  He tasted his own blood on his lips.  He saw his men running, trying to establish a counter attack.  There weren’t many left, maybe six or seven.  The rest were either dead or dying on the ground.  He tried to warn them as he saw laser light flick out to target them.  More shots rang out, cutting down the last of his command.  They didn’t stand a chance.

The noise level decreased dramatically.  The only sound were the moans of the dying.  Jarni Mig struggled to pull himself forward.  He had to make it to cover.  He was having problems breathing.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was dying.  He struggled with the catch of his helmet and goggles.  He took them off and threw them away from him.  As he crawled, he heard yelling.  He couldn’t understand the words, so it had to be the thregari primitives.  Footsteps sounded as the enemy walked forward.  He listened as one of his men begged for mercy.  The man started screaming.  His screams cut off, replaced by a liquid, bubbling sound.  Moans quieted as the thregari walked among his soldiers.

He heard footsteps approach him.  Somebody grabbed his shoulder and turned him over.  Jarni Mig looked at the soldier squatting down next to him.  This soldier wasn’t a local.  He had modern weapons, modern kit.  This was a man was used to violence.  The youthful face, framed by light hair and beard, couldn’t hide the eyes.  There was no emotion there, not for him.  This hominid was an unknown, taller, but more slender than a Turinzoni.  Jarni Mig had never seen his like before.  He was joined by another, larger man.  The larger man had a golden red beard and a bald head.  He was as wide as a Turinzoni, but much taller.

He didn’t know where his rifle was so he tried to reach for his pistol.  The slender soldier slapped his hand away.  The pistol was taken from the holster and tossed away so that he couldn’t reach it.  He tried to pull his knife.  The soldier held his hand down, pulled the knife, and threw it over to the pistol.  The two soldiers started talking.  Jarni Mig didn’t understand a word.

“He doesn’t want to give up.”

“Would you?”

“Probably not.”

“He ain’t gonna make it.  His legs are shredded.”

“You can’t save him, Mickey?”

“Nah, too far gone.  Another world, another time, yeah, I could stabilize him, and we could airlift him out.  No way in hell that’s going to happen here.”

Another voice called out, “Hey Mickey, need you over here.”

The slender man stood up, “Matki, make sure all of your people are okay.  Let Mickey know if anybody is hurt.”

“Okay Mike, I will check with my people.”

“I need an ACE report.”

Three voices responded.

The slender man looked around, “Everett, where’s Rob?”

“I don’t know.  He was on my right when the shooting started.”

“Tom, have you seen Rob?”

“No, I haven’t seen him.”

“Find him.”

Voice raised, yelling out for the missing man.

Jarni Mig’s sight was starting to dim as he listened to the strange soldier yelling.  His breathing was labored now.  It would come soon.  All he had to do was wait.

“God!  Mickey, get over here.  Rob’s down.”

Jarni felt the impact through the ground as the big man ran to the others.

“Rob! You stay with me!  You ain’t goin’ nowhere.  Tom, I need pressure right there.  Okay, I’m going to roll him over and check for an exit wound.”

“Fuck! There’s no exit wound.  The bullet’s still in there.”

“Where’d the bullet go in?”

“Below the lung.  I think it went through the liver.”

“Is he conscious?”

“Barely.  Damn you Rob, why didn’t you fucking stay down?”

“Okay, I’ve got KwikClot on the wound.  What’s his blood pressure like?”

“It’s low.”

“Heartbeat?”

“Not good.”

“Okay, I have some ringers lactate in the bag.  I need an intravenous kit.”

“On it Mickey. Here you go.”

“His blood pressure’s dropping.”

“Fuck you Rob, you ain’t gonna do this to me.”

“Rob, you listen to me.  Michelle’s waiting for you.  You have to fight.  You can’t leave her.  You have a baby on the way.  You gotta stick around to meet your baby.  You can’t leave her alone.”

“He’s not breathing!”

“Fuck, lay him out.  Everett, do chest compressions.  Mike, you breathe.  Tom, you keep pressure on the wound.  I gotta get the needle in.”

“One … Two … Three … Four … Five … Six … Seven … Eight … Nine … Ten … Eleven … Twelve … Thirteen … Fourteen … Fifteen, breathe!”

Jarni Mig couldn’t see anymore.  He couldn’t breathe.  He coughed, blood splattering across his face.  Footsteps sounded next to him.  The knife was beautiful, long shiny blade, white bone handle.  He felt it slice into his neck.  Jarni Mig didn’t feel anything, anymore.

 

----------------------------------------------------

Epilog

“He’s here, Dostori Rev.”

The light from the window was muted by the soporific smoke that wreathed the room.  Naked boys lay in narcotic repose on the giant round bed.  In the middle of the bed, the Dostori Rev lay naked, running her hand through the brown curls of one of her slaves, his head lying on her breast.  The wane light did nothing to mute her shimmering hair as it lay against her red skin.

Dostori Rev’s eyes narrowed to slits as she received the news, “Why is he here now?”

Chidea, well aware of her mistress’ mercurial temper, stared at the floor in front of her, “I don’t know, Dostori Rev.”

Dostori Rev examined the girl.  Chidea’s body language showed deference, submission.  Dostori Rev preferred her servants docile, even the ones she bedded.  She studied Chidea long enough to make her uncomfortable.  Once she was satisfied that Chidea was compliant, she waved the servant away, “Show him in.”

The girl bowed, “Yes Dostori Rev.”

“Well?  Go!”

Chidea hastened out of the room.  Minutes later, Om Varee stepped through the door into the bedroom.

Dostori Rev watched him enter.  He was dressed in a loose shirt and loose pants, beige in color.  Round face, a shock of brown hair.  His skin was almost the same color as the clothes that he wore.  There was nothing that stood out until you looked at the eyes.  The eyes were different, deep black, sharp and attentive.  Nothing escaped his gaze.

Now, he looked at boys lying around the room, all of them deeply drugged.  Her toys, they would go to the pit for other, more deadly entertainment once they displeased her.  Om Varee’s face remained neutral, showing neither approval nor disapproval.

“Why are you here, Om Varee?”

Om Varee bowed, “I thought you would like a status report on Lord Caen Rathon’s efforts.”

Dostori Rev’s interest was piqued.  Rumors had reached her about the situation on the far side of the continent.

“And?”

“Thirty-nine dead, an entire pod of Cree automatons destroyed,” he replied.

Her languorous eyes changed to ice.  This was . . . interesting and unwelcome news.  She moved the drugged boy’s head to the side and slid out between the sleeping bodies to put her feet on the floor.

She stood, motionless as she contemplated the impossible.  The faint light highlighted her curves, golden hair falling to her waist.

She looked at Om Varee, “What happened?”

Om Varee spread his hands, “Unknown.”

That answer was unacceptable to her, the fury in her eyes displaying her displeasure, “I pay you to know these things.”

Om Varee bowed, “You do, Dostori Rev.  Unfortunately, I currently have to rely on reports from the Lord Caon.”

His explanation didn’t mollify her anger, “You don’t have your own operatives with the Lord Caon?”

“Things are in flux right now.  The Lord Caon just arrived at the location of the massacre.  He’s busy beating his staff into submission.”

“Turinzoni fool!” Dostori Rev’s fury drove her, she couldn’t stay still.  Her anger overwhelmed her composure.  She walked to the table in the corner of the room and poured wine.  She took a draught, hoping the narcotic infused wine would take the edge off of her anger.  It didn’t help.  She threw the glass across the room to shatter against the far wall.

The noise of breaking glass made a few of the naked boys shift as they tried to process the sound, but they quickly settled back into their indolent slumber.  Their lack of reaction increased her fury.

“Rotha!”

A male servant came running.  He knew this mood well.  He sank to his knees in front of his mistress, his head pressed tightly to the floor, “Yes, my Dostori Rev?”

She snarled, snapping her fingers, pointing at the torpid figures sprawled around the room, “Drag them out of here!  Take them to the pit!”

“Yes, my Dostori Rev.”

Rotha hurried out, and quickly came back with other slaves to carry out the drugged boys.  Murmurs of displeasure escaped from the lips of the somnolent boys as they were disturbed, ignorant of the bloody fate that awaited them.

The activity of the slaves, and the knowledge of the fate that she’d just condemned her erstwhile lovers to had a calming effect on her temper.  She took a deep breath, walked to the bed, picked up a diaphanous robe and pulled it on.  She walked back to the table and sat down.  Her anger under control, she picked up one of the cut crystal glasses and reached over to the wine decanter.  She lifted it and poured the amber liquid and took a drink.  She placed the decanter back on the table and studied Om Varee.

Composed, she continued her questions, “How is it possible that primitive thregari can destroy a pod of Cree automatons?  How does that happen?”

He stood there unfazed, used to her tantrums, his hands crossed in front of him, and shook his head, “Once again, unknown.”

“Thirty-nine trained Turinzoni soldiers?”

He didn’t say a word.

“Are these Turinzoni incompetent?”

“Not anymore.  They’re all dead.”

“What about the Lord Caen?  Is he incompetent?”

He shifted his hands from his front to his back, clasping them behind him, “Not according to his records.”

“Records can be manipulated.”

He nodded, “Other people’s records, yes.  Not mine.”

Her eyebrow arched, “Your records?”

He nodded, “I prefer my own sources.  My records indicate that he is very competent.  His record in the Duroth system supports this analysis.  Of course, he, and his men, are used to more of an . . . urban environment.”

She processed this information, “You think he can be trusted to find out what’s happening there?”

Om Varee nodded, “For now.  He’s mobilizing more forces to put into the area.  The public executions of Caens and Carthars seem to have stiffened discipline.”  He coughed delicately, placing his fist over his mouth.

She eyed Om Varee, “There’s more?”

He nodded, “There is a complication.”

“What’s the complication?”

“The thregari stripped the soldiers of their weapons.”

She eyed Om Varee.  She waved at chair, “Sit down.”

Om Varee knew that this was not a request.  He moved to the chair that she indicated.

She continued to sip her drink, “Do you think this threat might be from out system?”

Om Varee thought for a moment, “Doubtful.  We would detect the energy spike if any star ships showed in this solar system.”

She ran her finger around the rim of the glass, “You’re sure it isn’t him?”

He nodded, “Yes, Dostori Rev, I’m positive.

A concerned expression painted her features, “His web is wide.”

Om Varee nodded, “Your father has other interests right now, other enemies to deal with.”

“You don’t think he wants to shift forces here?”

“Lady, he’s hasn’t lost his interest in you.  But, right now, he doesn’t have the resources to do so.  Besides, we haven’t indicated who you are to others yet.  We have countermeasures in effect to ensure they don’t find out.”

She was dissatisfied with his answer.  There was a puzzle here that she didn’t understand.  She stood up and walked to the window.  She slid the drapes back to let light into the room.  She walked outside onto the balcony, and breathed in the cool air.  Her balcony was set high above the city, her tower the highest building on the flat plain of the valley.  Only the mountains around her were taller.

She looked down on her city.  The city was small, smaller than she was used to.  It was a good beginning.  Not far in the distance, a domed cargo ship lifted slowly to space, gravitics warping the light around it.  The bustle of activity intruded on her psyche.  Her thoughts flitted through the various scenarios.  Nothing made sense.

Almost a millennia ago she’d arrived on this planet, weak and close to death.  Afraid that she’d be tracked, she’d landed in a remote area with few servants and slowly built her empire.  The remoteness of the planet gave her hope that she could evade the long reach of her enemies.  She’d consolidated her base, securing the cooperation of the local thregari, using them to further her ambitions.  The thregari grew hostile to her machinations and tried to fight her.  They’d named her witch, sorceress.  In some ways it was true.  She manipulated and engineered genetics, chemistry, and physics in ways they could never understand.  To the thregari primitives, her capabilities must have seemed like magic.  Then, as she outgrew her need for them, she’d turned on them and destroyed them.  She’d stormed the planet with biologicals and scoured it of the original thregari.

There were still a few clinging to remote areas.  None that could do this.  Her Cree automatons had been placed in strategic locations to guard resources, to keep them away from the primitives.  Now, those same primitive thregari had advanced weapons.

“How the hell did that happen?  If they aren’t from out system, where did the weapons come from?”
she thought to herself.

She’d was taking steps to expand her empire, to move back out into the stars and confront her enemies.  She’d contacted potential allies, imported assets, and started ramping up her manufacturing and fabrication capabilities.  She was still vulnerable.

She turned and looked back into the room, studying Om Varee.  He sat, hands crossed on his lap.  She made a decision.  She walked back into the room, “I want more than ground forces out there.  I want your operatives on the ground.  I want to know what’s really going on.”

Om Varee bowed, “It will be done, lady.”

 

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Mark Harritt

 

BOOK: Eden's Children (Earth Exiles Book 2)
11.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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