Jordan (13 page)

“Damn it, Jordan. Now isn’t the time to be vague.”

All traces of amusement gone, Jordan jerked her to a stop. “Then let me be very, very clear.”

She raised her chin. “Please do.” It was about time he leveled with her.

“Don’t count on me for anything.” His eyes burned with blue fire. “Is that plain enough for you?”

“Yes, you’re very clear.” She wouldn’t have expected his declaration to hurt. After losing her parents, Vivianne had learned
that not even the people who loved her most could always be there to offer their support. But her parents had died.

They’d had no choice. Jordan did.

To be fair, pretty much ever since they’d left Earth she’d known Jordan was on a mission to stop the Tribes, and he wasn’t
about to let anyone, or anything, get in the way.

His kind of determination didn’t rattle her. Or frighten her. In fact, she admired Jordan’s drive and sacrifice.

Still, disappointment flooded her. She couldn’t forget his abandoning her on the bridge. Or his lame excuse. He was hiding
things. She needed to watch her own back. Because Jordan would only do so… up to the point where she remained useful to his
mission. And if she impeded his end goal, she might be not just irrelevant, but expendable.

Eying Jordan, she spoke calmly. “I’d like for either Sean or Gray to join us.”

At her request, Jordan’s expression didn’t change. Neither did his voice. “Fine.” He spoke into the handheld communicator.
“Gray, please meet us at the main hatch with the Staff.”

Gray joined them by the hatch, anticipation glowing in his eyes. He handed Jordan the Staff. “We’re going out?”

Jordan nodded, retracted the Staff, tucked it into a sheath at his belt, and pulled the airlock handle.

Without the Staff and power, the
Draco
couldn’t fly. As long as Jordan had the Staff, the ship couldn’t leave without them. She didn’t like taking the Staff from
the
Draco,
but knowing how precious the Staff was to Jordan, she didn’t argue.

The airlock opened.

George took one sniff of Shadow’s fresh but thin air, let out a soft woof, and tugged on the leash.

Jordan gestured for Vivianne to step outside. “After you.”

“Wow.” Vivianne allowed George to tug her out of the
Draco’
s airlock. She’d often dreamed of flying through space in one of her ships and of stepping onto other worlds, but she’d never
thought she’d be one of Earth’s first explorers on an alien world.

Shadow’s smells hit her first. Lush grasses, rich soil, and something tangy and sweet. The temperature was downright balmy,
the gravity slightly lighter than on Earth.

Beyond the landing site, huge trees with spindly trunks stood like sentries around the
Draco.
At first the flat grassy area seemed empty, but then she spied a pair of latte-hued eyes in a caramel-colored face staring
at her through the high stalks. Then another set of eyes. And another.

They were surrounded.

A man has no more character than he can grasp in a time of crisis.

—L
ADY
G
UINEVERE

A
fter Vivianne’s eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, she glimpsed human faces. Their bodies were clothed in dark layers of
nanocloth, their heads bald except for double arches of hair over their very human ears.

Jordan stepped beside her. “Keep your voice low, and don’t make any quick movements.”

“We wouldn’t want to scare
them
, ” she murmured, her quick head count suggesting she, Jordan, and Gray were outnumbered at least a hundred to one.

“Exactly,” Jordan muttered.

Even with the sun shining so brilliantly, she still couldn’t see these people very well. Either they were crouching low in
the grass or they were about as tall as George when he stood on his hind legs. But as men, women, and children stared back
at them in total eerie silence, goose bumps rose on her flesh.

“Hello,” Vivianne said, careful to modulate her tone to what she hoped sounded friendly.

George lifted his leg and christened one of the plants. Vivianne hoped these people wouldn’t take offense.

“Now what?” Gray asked.

“We wait,” Jordan murmured, and she had the feeling he’d done this a time or two before.

“Wait for what?” Vivianne asked.

“For them to lose their fear of us.” Jordan seemed certain of the protocol, and it made sense.

But Vivianne wondered what would happen if these people never lost their fear. Would they attack?

Nose to the ground, George sniffed and wagged his stub of a tail. Quickly, he found the limit of his leash, then yanked.

“Easy, fella.” Vivianne pulled him back. “Sit.”

George paid no attention to her command. She suspected she had to make her voice more firm, but she didn’t want to frighten
the natives. So instead, she pushed down on his lower haunches. “Sit.”

George sat. She straightened, and then he promptly stood up and tugged toward the natives again. Frustrated, she bent and
pushed on his hindquarters, again. “Sit,” she repeated.

George sat, then again bounced to his feet and tugged the leash.

One of the natives chuckled.

Vivianne smiled, sat down cross-legged, and lifted George into her lap. “We might be less intimidating if we’re more their
size.”

Gray kneeled, and Jordan squatted next to her, but, if the natives attacked, his legs looked ready to lunge. She heard whispers
and soft hoots from the natives, but her translator couldn’t pick up their words.

George grew tired of sitting and yanked, straining to the limit of his leash to explore. This time when she tugged him back,
there was much laughter and the tension eased from her shoulders.

“I’m glad we’re so entertaining,” she said. “How much longer—”

“George is winning them over.” Jordan petted George behind the ears. “Good boy.”

“Someone’s coming,” Gray murmured.

Although her cheeks began to hurt from smiling, Vivianne didn’t change expression as one of the natives slowly shuffled out
of the grasses. She’d assumed these people were small, but the man slowly straightened to a willowy six feet.

He was quite human in appearance, with the usual number of limbs, but he was extremely slender, almost delicate, his knees
and ankles seemingly double-jointed as he approached with a graceful gait.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” Jordan warned.

George didn’t listen. He stood, tugged on the leash, and wagged his tail, eager to greet the stranger.

Vivianne was about to jerk him back when the native reached out to the dog, pushed his hindquarters down, and said, “Sit.”

George sat.

Everyone in the audience clapped their hands in applause. Many stood to see better, their fears seemingly forgotten.

“Hello.” Vivianne pointed to herself. “Vivianne.”

“Viv?” the man repeated.

“Vivianne.” Jordan pointed at her, then at Gray, saying, “Gray,” and then at himself, “Jordan.” Then he gestured to the man.

“Pez.” The native puffed out his thin chest.

Once again, Jordan pointed to all of them and said their names. This time, Pez repeated them, too. And then, eyebrow lifting,
he patted George.

“George,” Vivianne told him.

Pez motioned for Jordan, Gray, and Vivianne to follow him.

“He doesn’t seem hostile,” Vivianne said.

“Don’t make assumptions,” Jordan murmured. “For all we know, he may have decided we’re the perfect food for his pet lion.”

“Somehow these people don’t seem the type to domesticate lions,” Vivianne said. “But why aren’t our translators doing their
job?”

“Sometimes it takes a while for them to work,” Jordan said. “The syntax or grammar here must be very unusual. If we can get
them to name other things, it might speed the process.”

Jordan touched his nose. “Nose.”

Then he gestured for Pez to give him the alien word. But Pez said, “Nose.”

And no matter what Jordan said, Pez didn’t seem to understand their wish to learn the native language. Eventually he gave
up. “I’m no linguist.”

“Mind if I try?” Vivianne asked.

“Go ahead.”

She strode up to Pez with George. She patted George’s head. Then she patted her own head and said, “Head.” Then slowly she
reached out to Pez’s head.

“Tskky.”

Vivianne clapped her hands. Then she touched her nose and said the word. Then touched his.

“Brrighgt.”

Again she clapped. Then she touched the ground, pointed at the sky, held up one finger, then two, then three. Each time the
man gave her a word. But then he seemed to tire of the game and she didn’t press.

“That was perfect,” Jordan told her, and his compliment made her feel good.

“The translator still isn’t working,” she said, because she could hear these people talking among themselves and she couldn’t
understand them.

“Patience,” Jordan said.

“I’m working on it.” She supposed that after living so many years, patience was something he’d acquired.

Pez led them through the farmer’s field and onto a winding two-lane dirt road lined with homes that reminded her of English
cottages with thatched roofs. On top of the roofs were what she at first assumed were weather vanes. But instead of a pointed
arrow at one end, there was a circle and on the opposite end was a square. The shape seemed familiar, but she didn’t know
why.

She glanced at Jordan. His blue eyes were focused on the roofs, too.

And then she remembered. “Those things on the roofs, they are the same shape as one of the indentations on your Ancient Staff.”

“The proportions look identical to one of the missing keys.” Jordan rubbed his forehead, his expression thoughtful.

“What does that mean?” Gray asked.

“It means we aren’t on Shadow by coincidence.” Jordan’s tone was threaded with excitement.

“I don’t understand,” Gray said.

“We jumped out of hyperspace to avoid colliding with those metal cubes,” Jordan reminded them. “Those cubes may have wanted
us to find this world.”

“Why?” Vivianne asked. “Do you think your missing keys are here?”

“I don’t know.” Jordan’s pace remained steady. “But from the beginning, Shadow has not been what it seemed.”

All the natives who watched from their yards and houses joined in the procession, falling in behind the group from the field.
At least four hundred men, women, and children followed in that odd gait, reminding her that although these aliens looked
human, they had probably never seen anyone who looked like Earth people. Children held one another’s hands and chattered under
the watchful eyes of their parents. Most of them wore tan shirts and slacks, but one little girl had a pink ribbon braided
into her hair. Another wore a simple bead bracelet. Contributing to the carnival-like atmosphere, several boys played catch,
running back and forth, never getting too close to the strangers.

She glanced back at their retinue. “I’m beginning to feel like the Pied Piper.”

“Where do you think Pez is taking us?” Gray asked.

“To their leader.” Jordan seemed certain, but he’d told them not to make assumptions.

Vivianne frowned as they headed straight through the tiny village and into a dense forest. “Wouldn’t their leader live among
them?”

Jordan shook his head. “Leaders in many cultures live apart. The king in his castle. The medicine man in a hut just outside
the village.”

“The minotaur that demanded a blood sacrifice every spring,” she said with a tiny shudder. Maybe it was the shade, or the
odd shape of the trees, but she didn’t like leaving the town or traveling so far from the
Draco.

“Surely they have food in their village.” She glanced uneasily over her shoulder. “Why don’t we try and trade for the food
we need and get out of here?” Get out while they still could.

“Easy.” Jordan moved beside her and whispered into her ear. “I need to find out why those key-like objects are over the roof
of every home. There’s no need for anxiety. These people aren’t armed. They aren’t carrying so much as a paring knife.”

“That doesn’t mean we should go along with their plans for us. They might want to sell us off to their neighbors in the next
village,” she warned him.

“Let’s give them another half hour,” Jordan suggested. “That way we can still make it back to the
Draco
before the sun sets.”

His suggestion sounded reasonable. But the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Sensing danger in the dark forest, she
kept peeking over her shoulder, staring into the bushes, searching for something menacing. But she saw nothing beyond a couple
of feral cats that George tried to chase.

Shadow’s weather changed quickly. The wind keened through the trees. And the air chilled and darkened as dark clouds blocked
out the sun.

“Sorry, fella.” She petted the dog, and he whined, then tried to bolt. If she hadn’t been holding the leash tightly, he would
have escaped. He kept pulling hard and started barking.

Pez stopped and almost backed into them, fear shadowing his eyes to a dark chocolate. Trembling, he dropped to his knees.