Seers of Verde: The Legend Fulfilled: Book One (10 page)

11

Taryl Bryann had no trouble finding volunteers to help her with the baby. All the women in the colony had offered to help. She appreciated the aid after her Caesarean section. Franca Navrakov had skillfully delivered the infant.

Taryl felt better every day, and the baby was in good health. The little girl was a miniature version of Taryl, with thick red hair and charcoal eyes. However, the Seer was growing irritated at being peppered with the same question from everyone: “What are you going to name her?”

Taryl would politely explain she would name the baby when the time was right, according to her people’s ways. This puzzled many of the questioners, and if they persisted with more inquiries, she would dismiss them, barring access to her and the infant. It did not take long for word to spread among the colonists that asking this question was taboo. This just fed the growing mystique that surrounded the mother and child.

Taryl’s family were descended from Gaians, followers of Mother Earth. They were sensitive to the environment and its affect on the human spirit. On Earth, some called them witches. Many had made their living as mind readers and spiritual healers for centuries. Now they had earned respect among the new colony worlds as Seers — a talent often passed from mother to daughter.

It was a Seer tradition to wait to name a newborn until the mother had a vision. Sometimes it was weeks or even months before the baby made it clear in a dream what its name was. Taryl had meditated before sleeping, hoping she would wake up in the morning and know her baby’s name.

A familiar knock at her door told Taryl that Franca was there for a visit. The med tech had been Taryl’s steadfast friend throughout her pregnancy and delivery. Uri’s wife did not bother the new mother about the baby’s name. She was even known to scold anyone who asked. Taryl smiled as Franca entered her shelter with a large basket of food.

“I don’t understand it,” the med tech said with a chuckle. “I can’t seem to walk anywhere near your shelter without collecting treats for you. Everyone seems concerned with fattening you up.”

Taryl laughed. It always seemed Franca knew what to say to cheer her. The other woman wanted nothing from her. Their friendship grew with every visit.

“So how is the little mysterious one?” Franca said while picking up the baby and cooing at her.

Taryl would have been upset if anyone else had said this but smiled at the reference. “Still nothing this morning, Franca,” the Seer said with disappointment. “I have to be patient. I was dreaming of Lar.” She was a bit embarrassed to admit it.

“Perfectly understandable,” Franca said. “I’m sure the father of your baby is concerned. Is there any way he knows what happened?”

Taryl shook her head. “I have been too tired to …" she paused, searching for the right words. “To touch his dreams. Before the baby was born I was able to communicate with him almost every night.”

The usually unflappable med tech stopped and stared despite herself. She struggled to regain her composure. “Forgive my meddling, Taryl, but perhaps this is unfinished business. He needs to know, somehow. Maybe that is why your dreams are of him and not the baby.”

Taryl looked at her friend for a moment and nodded. She had missed the comfort of female family members. There was no elder Seer to offer guidance on this planet. What Franca said seemed to open a window in Taryl’s mind. It was so obvious to her now. Tonight she would try to reach Lar’s dreams and tell him about their daughter.

¶ ¶ ¶

“It is unlike him to miss first meal with us,” said a worried-looking Dorin Luja, one of Lar Vonn’s security guards from the
Colonia Nueve
. “None of us has seen him this morning.”

Wald Bergmann was surprised that one of Lar’s men was confiding in him. The guard looked worried, but protocol forbade him from disturbing his superior. “You are asking me to check on the security chief?” the geologist asked.

The guard looked down for a moment and nodded. “Yes sir, if you could find the time.” It was not unusual for Wald to be brusque with Lar’s guards. They often stopped him on his nightly walks and checked on him while he worked all hours of the day. The security chief’s people must be concerned if they came to him for help.

“Give me a moment. Let me finish this mold and I will find out why the old chief has overslept.”

Dorin paused and smiled. No one but Wald could get away with such a description of the respected officer. “Thank you sir,” he said, nodding to the geologist.

Wald knew Lar had been sleeping better since the night when the two had toasted the rising sun, but the security chief was still bothered by the lack of communication from Taryl. The geologist did not understand the connection between the couple, but he did not question it.

Even Wald found himself getting nervous as he approached Lar’s quarters among the maize of tunnels in the mountains. Trying not to make much noise, the geologist walked up to the heavy curtains that covered Lar’s doorway.

Wald paused, not quite knowing what to say. “The cooks want to know when you are going to honor them with your presence, security chief. First meal is getting cold.”

“Enter,” a muffled voice answered.

Wald walked in slowly. Lar’s voice sounded very different, not like the deep baritone that easily issued commands. The security chief was sitting at a small crude desk he had crafted out of native wood. His back was to the door, which was an uncharacteristic position. Lar was hunched over, frantically working on something.

“You have the whole camp worried, chief. You don’t miss many meals,” Wald said haltingly.

“One moment, I almost have it,” Lar said softly, almost choking on his words.

The geologist kept a respectful distance and patiently waited. He lost track of how many minutes he stood there before the other man turned around and held up a drawing.

“This is my daughter, I don’t know her name, but I do know she and Taryl are well,” Lar said as tears ran down his face.

¶ ¶ ¶

That same morning, Taryl awakened feeling more refreshed than she had in weeks. Hearing the baby cry, wanting to be changed and fed, she peered over her daughter’s crib and smiled. “Good morning, Larinia. It’s going to be a wonderful day.”

12

One click snapped over the Tanlian ship’s comm system. It was followed by three short clicks, then one click followed by five long clicks.

“They are down there,” Ismala N’pfou said, smiling. “We will need our sympathizer to signal for several minutes before we can get a lock on his position.”

Masat Ebber clapped his hands, impressed with the Earther woman’s success. His men had been searching the planet with a scout flyer with no success. The Tanlian captain was puzzled. His ship could detect no power readings or communication signals — very strange for a colony world. If this was the planet Yermak Halpan had raced to, then where was he?

As an afterthought, Masat ordered a beacon activation signal to be broadcast. They had been trying to signal the other Tanlian ship. Just seconds after his order, a second signal beeped back to the ship. “Where is that signal coming from?” the captain shouted, recognizing it as an answering beacon.

“It’s coming from the largest moon,” answered the ship’s comm operator.

“Send a flyer there immediately,” Masat said. “Maybe it has some information that will help us.” The captain looked at Ismala. “Let’s hope that spy of yours keeps broadcasting. We need to determine his coordinates.”

For the first time since they left Tantalum 2, the Earther woman frowned at Masat. The captain laughed. “I see the word
spy
does not sit well with you. But if your sympathizer, as you call him, is an uninvited guest among the colonists, I’m certain they would consider him a spy.”

Ismala shrugged, turned and continued to broadcast the signal to her contact on the planet.

¶ ¶ ¶

The celebration stunned Taryl. After announcing her daughter’s name, an instantaneous festival broke out. In less than an hour, most of the colony was standing in front of her shelter. Music was playing, and people were dancing, laughing and cheering.

“Why are they doing this? Larinia is just a baby,” Taryl asked Franca, who also was amazed at the colonists’ reaction. Franca and Uri had arrived just before the other celebrants.

“You and the baby are the first thing we have had to celebrate,” the med tech answered. “Whether you approve or not, it appears you and the child are special to these people. Let them have their celebration. Life has been hard lately, and they are doing no harm.”

Taryl cast a sad glance at Uri. “Can’t you make them stop?” she asked. The despondent tone in her voice was evident. “We just want to be part of the colony. Not treated as special. What will Larinia think when she is growing up?”

Uri shook his head. “I couldn’t stop them if I tried. I agree with Franca. Let them have their fun. Perhaps life will settle down after this is all over.”

Seeing Taryl watching them, many in the crowd started chanting her name. Shaking her head, the shy young mother ran back to the shelter with Larinia in her arms. Franca waited a moment and followed the Seer inside, expecting to see her angry. She was trying to think of a way she could console the new mother.

Instead of fuming about her quarters, Taryl froze where she stood, almost transfixed, her eyes staring straight ahead, focusing on nothing. Never having seen Taryl like this, Franca summoned Uri. Her husband stood beside the Seer and waited, taking care not to disrupt her.

He looked at Franca. “She is seeing something with her
sight
. This is how she acts.” He turned to Taryl. “What do you see?”

“They are looking for someone,” the Seer said dreamily. “They think they have found him.”

Uri leaned close to Taryl. “Who is looking for someone?” he asked, fearing the answer.

“Tanlians. They are looking for someone among us,” Taryl said, still staring ahead. “I don’t know who it is.”

Uri needed to hear no more. Grabbing his communicator, he transmitted a five-click signal to all the colonists. Waiting another five clicks, he delivered a second even louder signal. Grim faced, he marched outside to the stunned colonists and ordered them all to their shelters.

¶ ¶ ¶

Kasan Inabritt hunched over his micro transmitter, which he had hidden in the greenhouse. He had answered the signal and was taking great care to relay coded information to the ship orbiting Verde Grande. The spy was surprised a GEMS deep-space vessel had ventured this far out of its territory. However, he did not question his duty. His people were up there. Signaling had to be slow. He did not want the colonists to trace him. Kasan was not privy to the colony’s communication capabilities, or even worse, what kind of defensive capabilities were left.

He knew, of course, the colony’s defenders had fired two laser-guided missiles, hitting one of the Tanlian collectors. Uri Navrakov had let it be known that many missile launchers were in place, but he did not divulge the number of missiles left. The launchers were all guarded. There was no way of knowing if they were armed.

Kasan did not know what to think about the Seer. He had seen her coming and going through the colony. She looked quite harmless. Possibly the story of some mysterious ability was a hoax. D-a-n-g-er he clicked into the transmitter.

“Damn this code,” he thought. “Each letter takes too long.” Waiting for the confirmation felt like it took at least an hour. Finally, receiving the confirmation, he clicked again: M-i-s-s-i-l-e-s. Again an agonizing wait, and at long last, confirmation, followed by a message relayed by a combination of clicks:
Keep transmitting. Need to lock on your position. Attack will follow when lock confirmed.

“What? Attack?” a surprised Kasan said out loud, almost dropping the transmitter. Why would the Syndicate attack a CAIN colony? The two groups had honored the Earth nonaggression treaty for centuries. Such an attack could have bloody consequences on the home world.

He sat there puzzled for almost a minute before a click from the ship demanded his attention:
Confirm last message.
Kasan shook his head and transmitted the confirmation code.

¶ ¶ ¶

Ismala N’pofu was growing frustrated at how slowly her spy was transmitting. Every time he paused, the Tanlian ship lost its lock on his signal. “He must keep transmitting,” she snapped. “It will take too many hours this way.”

Masat Ebber smiled at her. “You are sounding more like a Tanlian now. Impatient to get to action. Remember, he is among an enemy. He may be putting himself in danger by transmitting. The colonists will probably kill him if they discover him. Have patience.”

Ismala nodded thoughtfully. “I assumed he was hidden in the mountains and could transmit at will. Apparently he is among the colonists. I will try to be more patient.”

“If your man is a trained spy, he has been among them this entire time, learning as much as he can, gaining their confidence,” the captain said. “What is he telling you?”

Ismala quickly translated the code. “He says the colony has missiles, but he does not know how many. They fired two during a Tanlian attack,” she looked at Masat, who was now frowning.

“The colony must have fired on Halpan’s collectors, but what happened to Brak’s Revenge?” Masat asked, not expecting an answer. "No land-launched missile can bring down a deep-space ship. Get more information out of him.”

Ismala broke into a wide smile. “Ah, as a wise man once told me to have patience. It appears we have many questions that need to be answered.” She broke into a laugh at Masat’s glare.

¶ ¶ ¶

The transmissions from the ship were strange. “How were the Tanlian attackers killed? What happened to the transport ship? Did the Tanlians capture any colonists?”

Kasan confirmed the destruction of the two collectors that had attacked the colony. He doubted any colonists had been taken and relayed the mother ship’s fate. Growing frustrated at the questions, Kasan found the nerve to transmit his own question: “Why the interest in Tanlians?’ As an afterthought, he clicked in code: “They attacked and paid the price.”

Kasan was shocked at the answer. “Our Tanlian hosts want to find their sister ship.” Tanlian hosts? His people had traveled here with Tanlians? Even though the consortium had sued the Tanlians for peace and paid tribute to them, most GEMS people still looked down on them as thieves and slavers.

He was transmitting the colony’s coordinates to Tanlians. If they were successful with their attack, it would be a bloody and terrible scene. The colony’s men most likely would be killed and the women captured for sale. Frantic thoughts raced through his mind. What would happen to his beloved Nira? Could he protect her from that terrible fate? Maybe they could escape to the mountains.

In the interim, Kasan stopped transmitting, ignoring the ship’s incessant requests for more information. “Tanlians,” he said out loud in disgust, putting his hands to his face and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yes, Tanlians,” said a voice behind him. The startled Kasan spun around to see Uri Navrakov and a dozen other security guards watching him. All of them had energy pulsers pointed at him.

Nira stood behind Uri. He could tell she had been crying. She mouthed the word, “Why?” No one spoke. The tension was thicker than the heavy humidity that hung in the greenhouse. Kasan’s transmitter started clicking, sounding like a cricket on a hot summer night.

“Don’t answer that,” Uri ordered. “You have endangered this colony enough as it is.”

Kasan shook his head. “I was placed here by the Galaxy Exploration and Minerals Syndicate, not the Tanlians. I had no idea . . . ” his voice trailed off. He looked at Nira. She was sobbing. Her body shook.

“You have plenty of time to plan your defenses, Navrakov,” Kasan said dropping the transmitter but raising his energy pulser. “The ship only has its lock down to five hundred kilometers. I did not mean to bring you harm.”

Uri shook his head at the threatening gesture, but Kasan stepped forward and took aim. The sizzle of energy pulses echoed through the greenhouse. Kasan was dead before his body slumped to the ground. Beside him, the micro transmitter clicked again and again. Uri crushed it under his boot.

¶ ¶ ¶

Masat Ebber listened to the message, which confirmed what they had expected. The signal beacon on the planet’s large moon had detected an orbiting colony ship and Yermak Halpan had responded.

“At least we know Halpan found them, but I don’t understand what happened to his ship. The Earthers don’t appear to have sufficient defenses.”

Ismala N’pofu was silent, but kept trying her transmitter with no success. “No confirmation click for twenty minutes now. I am not reading a signal. I do not understand his last message. Then he asked about Tanlians. Very strange.”

The captain shrugged. “Maybe your spy has discriminatory tastes. Did he know it would be a Tanlian vessel that would contact him?”

Ismala shook her head. “It should make no difference what ship we arrive in. He answered the signal as he was ordered. I will keep trying to reach him every half hour, but I have a bad feeling.”

“Your spy may have been discovered by some unsympathetic colonists,” Masat said. “If so, there may be no more signals. At least we have the location narrowed down to a searchable area. Our scout flyers will find them. The colonists can’t hide like rodents forever.”