Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine (22 page)

—Autlach saying

Krell paced the dozen odd lengths between the nearest dune and where Firman and Tatra stood, her angst growing with every turn. Twice, she had heard LaRenna’s voice on the morning breeze. Twice, Krell’s companions had heard nothing.

“Where is she?” Tatra peered up at Firman through her windblown hair. Krell’s concerns, usually the point of irritation, were beginning to develop merit. “She’s long overdue. The
Predator
won’t wait forever.”

“It’ll wait until we get there,” snapped Krell. “Who’s going to pilot the launch, you?” Her nausea still lingered. “Come on, LaRenna.”

Firman placed his hand on her shoulder. “Be patient, sis.”

“I shouldn’t have let her go. She’s in trouble. I know it. I feel it.”

“LaRenna can handle herself. She proved that at the Hiring Hall. Have faith. Give her until full sunrise.” They stood in silence until the sounds of fighting rose from the base.

Krell turned toward the sound. “Time’s up, Firman. Take Tatra to the launch. I’m going after LaRenna.” She dropped her bag and LaRenna’s beside Firman’s and dashed up the stone embankment toward the Commons.

“Wonderful, just wonderful!” Tatra stamped her foot. “A ship’s coming for us and Krell takes off for Mother knows where.”

Firman grumbled under his breath and looked toward the Commons. “You know the way to the launch, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! What kind of a fool do you think I am?”

“You really want an honest answer to that?” He pushed the luggage toward her and scrambled up the path.

“Where are you going?” she cried. “Who’s going to carry the bags? Krell told you to take me to the launch.”

“Krell is my sibling, not my superior. Carry the bags yourself. I’m going to help find LaRenna.”

“Uh!” Tatra stood, hands on her hips, swearing at Firman as he disappeared into the ocean fog. “Nobody ever thinks about my needs.” She gathered the baggage and made her way to an easier side trail that led to the Commons, her spiked heels sinking in the sand as she walked. “I hate the Middle family,” she sobbed. “I hate Kimshees and most of all, I hate playing porter to someone else’s stinking luggage!”

Firman caught up with Krell halfway across the Commons. She ran the main streets, cloak and braids streaming behind her. “Don’t try to stop me,” she called back. “I promised to watch out for her.”

“I couldn’t stop you if I tried.” Firman dodged a wide-eyed, basket-toting Autlach woman who crossed his path. “I want to help.” They ran until the Waterlead came into view.

“Here.” Krell slapped a small blaster into his hand.

“That’s my Krell,” teased Firman, the seriousness of the situation momentarily lost in his panting jester’s grin, “Always ready. We going to going to walk right in there?”

“We are. Take the back?”

“You bet.” He edged around the building, signaling when he was in position. Krell waved back and approached the main entrance, mumbling suspicions when she found the front door unlocked. Cautiously, bowed arm in a firing posture, she pushed it open.

The main dining room was scattered with overturned tables and chairs. Firman burst in from the kitchen area as Krell fingered a large smear of blood and fluids on the bar counter. “I don’t like this, Fir.” She held up her hand. “She’s been hurt.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” he replied. “LaRenna may be the one who caused that spot. There’s nobody in the back, but the storeroom is a wreck. Stinks like someone’s been sick.” Firman watched his sibling touch the marks clawed into the counter’s pass-through end. “Probably just the scars of a drunken brawl. Did you check the downstairs facilities?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll do it.” He stepped inside the small room and quickly retreated. “Come look.” Krell stepped in and out in the same manner, her mouth covered to ward off the stench.

“Know him?” asked Firman through pinched nostrils.

Krell nodded then exhaled to keep her gut reactions at bay. “His name’s Russ. He waited tables at the Food Plaza. Wonder how he’s involved.” Krell considered the possible relationship for a few seconds then gave up with a shrug. “We need to check upstairs. Back me up?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” Firman picked up a small hide belt from the floor. “Isn’t this LaRenna’s?”

“I’m afraid it is. Merciful Mother, what’ve they done to her?”

Firman startled at the fear in Krell’s voice. This wasn’t the woman he knew. Krell was solid and unyielding, a dedicated military officer and Kimshee. She never showed her deeper emotions, especially in times of distress—or did she? Was LaRenna already that imbedded in Krell’s mentality? “If I know LaRenna, she’s probably at the beach as we speak, cursing you for leaving her alone with Tatra.” He followed Krell up the treads, grimacing when he saw the charred door.

Krell checked the rear of the apartment while Firman examined the body in the front room. He was covering it with a blanket when Krell reentered with the remains of LaRenna’s bloodstained underskirt.

“This one’s Taelach,” he said. “I think it’s one of the Creiloff— What is it, Krell?”

“LaRenna’s.” Krell held out the scraps.

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“You don’t know that for certain.”

“I took it off her night before last. Dear Mother, what have I done?” Krell sank to the floor, cuddling LaRenna’s belongings. “I told her I’d be there if she needed me. I promised. How could I be so stupid?” She shook remorsefully, clinging even tighter to the cloth, the meager remains of LaRenna.

“She’s not dead, Krell.” The words sounded so forced he began again. “She’s alive. We’ll find her. Wait and see.”

“Where do I begin?” Krell sniffed hard then held up the underskirt. “There’s so much blood. It’s everywhere. She’s hurt. I can feel it. I knew it last night. Oh, Firman, what have I done?”

“Faith, Krell. Have faith.” Firman took the clothing from his sibling’s shaking hands and drew Krell’s pale palms into his dark ones. “Remember when you lost Mother’s amulet?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled.

“Remember how Father gave it to you for your tenth birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“How long did you have to look for it before you found it?”

“Over two passes,” Krell whispered between sobs.

“You never gave up searching, did you?” Firman squeezed her hands. “Answer me. Did you?”

“No.”

“The amulet meant so much you never thought to quit,” he continued. “Do you care about LaRenna half as much as that fool piece of jewelry?”

“I was going to give that fool piece of jewelry to her when I saw her next. Life won’t be worth living without her. Oh, Firman, what have I done?”

“You’ve done nothing but love. We’ll find her. How hard can it be?”

“Firman, I—”

“Don’t Firman me, Krelleesha Tanchana Middle.” Firman’s tone reminded Krell of their father, to whom Firman bore a striking resemblance. “She’s waiting for you. You heard her cries. She needs our help. As long as there’s a chance she’s alive, we’ll search for her.”

Krell’s somber eyes focused on him. “We?”

“Think I’d let you go it alone?”

She shook her head. “I’m a blubbering idiot, Fir. You’re always around when I need you most.”

“That’s what big brothers are for, help and aggravation.” He caught Krell’s head and knuckle-scrubbed the top. “We better get to the launch. I left Tatra to carry the bags.”

“You didn’t!” Krell chuckled at the thought of the thin-framed healer juggling substantial baggage.

“Yes, I did.” Firman assisted her rise. “It’s good to see a smile on your face, even a small one. Now, let’s go.”

The firefight continued around the Center’s Assembly. Cance’s select four had successfully taken control of the facility’s perimeter and were maintaining their ground, waiting for the scan decoder to work its magic on the hatchway’s encrypted codes.

“Hurry up!” The tanned Autlach drew flat against one of the building’s decorative pillars. He wished nothing more than to be with his family. This wasn’t his idea of a glorious victory, and martyrdom now seemed pointless. “Do it now! The entire base will be on us in a minute.”

“Two markings left. Hold your position.” Longhair watched as one then the other locking number fell into place. A yellow light signaled the hatch’s release, allowing him to avoid the volley of blaster fire that rained on their position. Once inside, he took his bearings and located the master control panel. “All right, here we go. Blue means water supplies, gold sanitation tube ways, brown, green. Where’s the confounded black key locks?” They sat to the side of the main panel array, protected by a heavy glass case. He smashed the cover with a padded elbow, setting off a blaring base-wide alarm. The small hardwire box Cance had entrusted him with hooked easily to the locks and repeated the same repetitious jumble of numbers. One by one, they clicked into place.

“Atmospheric Purge System activated. Secondary authorization required for this action.” The Assembly’s computer spoke in the rhythmic feminine alto typical of Taelach-installed systems. The hardwire box clicked in response, this time a much shorter series of numbers flashing across its screen.

“No!” screamed Longhair. “The security grid, not atmospheric controls!”

“Security matrix controls are designated by yellow key locks, black is for atmospheric controls only.” The reply came as the final number unencrypted. “Atmospheric purge system on line. Deionization to begin in five minutes.”

“Raskhallak’s wrath and hell’s glory, what have I done?” Longhair pounded the control panel. “Shut it down!”

“Off moon authorization from two remote locations is required for that action. Four minutes thirty seconds remaining.” Longhair started throwing random key locks. “Environmental purge sequence automatically disables all other systems,” replied the computer. “No further action is necessary. Four minutes ten seconds remaining. Immediate evacuation of all remaining personnel is required at this time.”

***

The same countdown that sounded in the Center’s Assembly echoed across all of Langus. Firman and Krell skidded to a stop, mortified when they heard the announcement.

“No!”

“Get us out of here, Krell!”

“LaRenna!”

“Cance wouldn’t stay on a moon on its way to a purge,” shouted Firman, “and neither should we!” He jerked her arm until she resumed running. They reached the Taelach-designated platforms a few seconds later, running straight into Tatra.

“Open this thing!” She tugged at the doors of planetary launch.

Krell entered her access code, released the door latch, and followed the others inside. Firman secured the hatch while Krell began the preflight functions necessary to disengage the landing locks.

“Let’s go!” Tatra’s primped face twisted with terror.

“Sit down and hold on! It’s fixing to get bumpy!” warned Krell and the engines roared to life. She throttled the craft upward, bounding it into flight with a violent rock that sent Tatra careening to the floor. Firman pulled her up, planted her in the seat next to his, and secured her safety harness.

“When Krell says hold on, she means it.” Tatra nodded and held fast to her seat, the first time Firman had ever seen her without a showy comeback.

They entered the lower levels of the Langus atmosphere as the countdown ended. Violent sulfurous thunderheads could be seen forming to the south, blue-green streaks of lightning cracking through them. Tatra turned to watch in gruesome fascination, her mouth opening and closing in awe. Firman jeered at her indiscretion and jerked her back around. “I once heard a story about a woman who died when she looked back to witness the destruction of a city. Best not tempt fate.”

“Sounds like one of Krell’s stories from the ancient human colony.” Tatra glowered at him but remained facing forward.

“It is one of my stories, Tatra. It’s about a man named Lot and his wife who turned to a pillar of salt for being sick-minded enough to watch the death of others.” Krell rotated the pilot’s seat. “We’re clear of Langus. The
Predator
has signaled. It’ll be here within the hour. Not a word from either of you about LaRenna not being with us. I’ll tell her raisers myself. It’s my duty.” Krell glanced around the craft in search of their baggage. If nothing else, LaRenna’s personal effects might provide some comfort. “Where’s our stuff?”

“I think we left it on the platform,” replied Firman.

“Oh.” Krell turned back to the controls and sank back in her seat, crying softly. It wasn’t that the material items mattered, but they had been tangible. They were all she had possessed of LaRenna and now they, too, were gone.

Necessity can make competitors into coconspirators.

—Taelach wisdom

Third Engineer Malley Whellen stood at her station, reading the updates on the Iralian fleet’s position. Master Engineer Freena Ockson, her lengthy braids looped neatly behind one ear, pushed past her, rushing here and there in final preparations for battle. “Anything new, Whellen?” Ockson was elbow deep in fine-tuning the
Predator’s
forward shield array.