The Fifth Civilization: A Novel (22 page)

A Bauxen lay on the ground, clutching what appeared to be
nothing more than a food tray with a hole in it. Grinek approached him and
sneered. He kicked the being, which moved and gave a very weak cough—the
Bauxen was obviously dying. Roh and the others appeared alongside Grinek, and
one soldier bent down to loot the body.

“Leave the carcass,” Grinek said. “It’s more terrifying that
way.”
 
Then he looked up the
staircase. The Earthmen wanted to get to someplace up there, and Grinek hoped
it wasn’t an exit. If only someone had thought to get a layout of the complex.
Oh well. It was of little consequence now.

“Follow them,” he commanded some soldiers, who immediately
snarled and charged up the stairs. Grinek knew he was exposed standing in the
middle of this expansive rotunda, but he relished every second of danger.

***

One of the servants died immediately; there was nothing they
could do for him. Most of the Kotaran energy bolts were deflected or blocked by
the food trays, though, and it was extremely difficult to hold onto the
superheated metal as they ran up the stairs. Kel and Roan dropped theirs behind
them, instead focusing on running to safety on the second floor. The Bauxens
and David kept the trays until they reached the landing—their thicker
skin could better handle hot metal—and then threw the makeshift shields
to the ground, where they clanged down the stairs.

“There’s a secure vault in that bedroom!” Duvurn said, pointing
and panting, looking as though a heart attack would fell him at any moment. His
bodyguard, dedicated to protecting the Prince no matter the risk or price,
stood behind him and volleyed shots down the stairs and into the rotunda.
Despite that, the Kotarans began advancing up the stairs.

Roan decided he would do the same—as Kel herded David
and the Bauxens into the bedroom, Roan made his way to the balcony edge and
fired at the Kotarans with his pistol. Just like the Yuko Mall back on Earth,
he was again being chased on a spiral walkway. Even his firefights were
repeats.

Chunks of masonry catapulted from pillars and sprayed the
rotunda. He recognized the red bolts of a Kotaran pistol. Damn them, they must
have captured one from a Kotaran. Perhaps the shooter was Nicholas Roan
himself, and if so, all the better. Even though Grinek wanted to personally
kill the man, the execrable Earthman might very well die in a firefight. That
would be agreeable, too. All that mattered was the planet coordinates and the
Colobus crew probably had it loaded onto some kind of device.

“Commander! Commander!” It was the cry of one of Grinek’s
men, and the firing from above stopped when the call came. Two soldiers
appeared, carrying an Earthman into the rotunda and throwing him to the floor
before Grinek and Roh.

“We caught one alive, just as you requested,” one soldier
said. The captive was pale-skinned and disheveled, bloodied all over, and he
was wearing what could have been sleepwear. His gibbering and shaking were the classic
signs of a frightened Earthman. What an ineffectual outcome of evolution their
race was. When a Kotaran experienced fear—a rare sight indeed, if he was
a credit to his race—he sweated while his ears and tail flapped, but he
was otherwise in control of his emotions and body.

“Earthman, you will tell me what I want to know,” Grinek
spat, and this encouraged the man to look up at the commander.

“P-please don’t kill me,” the man murmured. “I’m just a
crewman on the freighter. A mechanic.”

Roh let off a cluck of disapproval. Grinek raised an eyebrow
at his subordinate. In Kotaran, he asked Roh, “Is this man telling the truth,
Specialist?”

“He was my guard while I was imprisoned on the freighter. I
do not remember him with fondness. And I believe I overheard him talking about
killing a Kotaran.”

Grinek looked back down at the man. His face had settled on
Grinek’s boots, and the commander grabbed his small head by the cheeks and
brought it up to look into Grinek’s eyes. “You are lying! You killed Kotarans
on your ship. You are bloodthirsty for alien blood.”

“No! I swear.”

“Yes! If you want to live, you tell me why your ship was on
a course into deep space. What were you looking for? Where?”

***

Roan and the Bauxen bodyguard fired some shots to end the
Kotaran advance up the staircase, but both stopped when there was commotion
below. Clutching the pistol close to his body, Roan worked his way to the
marble railing and looked down below. He hoped he hadn’t seen what he thought
he saw, but it was unmistakably true: one of the Kotarans, muscly and angular
but a little shorter than the others, was holding a human in the center of the
rotunda.

The human was the mechanic, Jasper.

It was clear where this was going. The Kotaran, who was
perhaps the leader of the group, was saying something to Jasper. Roan did not
believe the two would be talking very long.

Roan put the alien in his crosshairs. He just needed a clean
shot without the crewman in the way. As he did, he realized that even at this
distance he recognized the Kotaran. This one, Roan believed, stood out among
all the others.

***

Now
the Earthman was crying. Oddly, the tears running down Grinek’s hands felt like
sweat. So unlike a Kotaran. From what he understood of emotions on Earth, tears
were only caused by pain, but this man had not been harmed.
Yet
.

“Answer me!”

“L-life. Something about the origins of life. Some planet
past Bauxa, out beyond Nydaya. I-I can’t remember all the details. It was a
month ago when they told us.”

“Do you know where this planet is? Do you have its
coordinates?”

The man appeared confused. “N-no.”
 
He tried to sniff, to stop the tears,
but it wasn’t working. Grinek finally let the man’s head go, his claws having
turned the man’s cheeks red.

“Was your knowledge of this planet related to you by some
file, something on a computer? Or did someone tell you this?”

“It…it…was shown to us all. It was on a holopad. Roan, Nick
Roan’s holopad.”
 
The human had just
given up more information than was asked of him, even though Grinek more or
less knew what he’d relayed. So, the information about the mysterious planet
was true. Aaron Vertulfo was, in fact, on the right track. How Grinek wanted to
see Vorjos’ foolish face when they reached the planet in question. This
captured man had only enhanced that desire.

Grinek looked to the balcony at the top of the staircase.
The people he wanted were up there, and he hoped he had the leverage he needed.

“Nicholas Roan!” Grinek roared, shoving his pistol at the
crewman’s head so that those on the balcony could see. He hoped Roan was
sufficiently shocked that his name was known to a Kotaran. How he would have
loved to say he had spent weeks studying its syllables.

“I have a crewman here,” Grinek tried in his best English.
He once again looked at the Earthman at his side, wheezing and weeping. He
looked like every other human Grinek had ever seen.

“He dies if you do not surrender!” Grinek bellowed. The
captive squirmed a little, and Grinek’s tail whacked the man and threw him to
the floor. Grinek thrust the pistol barrel against the man’s skull. From his
dealings with the Grisholdan separatists on Kotara, Grinek had learned that a
pistol aimed at a friend or family member’s head was always the best
negotiating tool. Pleasure enveloped Grinek’s body. This was going to be even
more satisfying than putting down that revolt.

***

The kanga knew his name. The fact struck Roan like a bolt,
but he knew the Kotarans had many resources. He had to focus on the matter at
hand. Jasper held hostage in the rotunda. The Kotarans inching their way up the
stairs. The short distance to the bedroom.

He looked to the bedroom first. Kel was there. Motioning him
to the doorway, silently saying his name. Hiding was looking like the only
viable option right now. He still had his gun trained on the scene below, but
knew that once the shooting started, the Kotarans on the stairs would charge.

“Bodyguard,” Roan said in a low voice, enough so that the
trembling Bauxen at the railing could hear him. The alien’s rifle was
erratically shaking, so much so that the being could probably not get a clear
shot. “Run to the bedroom. Now.”
 
The guy didn’t speak English or something, because he didn’t move, so
Roan pointed, and the bodyguard immediately did as he was asked and ran to the
door.

***

Talking was pointless. The captive had the air of being
resigned to his fate and was therefore useless as something to bargain with.
Briefly, Grinek considered asking the man to pray if he had any sort of divine
beliefs—he hadn’t seen an Earthman do so before, at least outside of
anthropological recordings. But that might offend Roh, disparaging religion at
a key moment in their quest. So instead he decided to count.

“You have five seconds to surrender,” Grinek yelled up at
the balcony. “Five!” he said, and then he paused to think of what the next
number would be in English—

***

Roan had the Kotaran in his sights. He fired.

***

One shot grazed Grinek’s leg and he howled in pain. Roh and
the other men let loose their fire on the balcony above, and surely there was
no way the Earthman could have survived such a barrage. Grinek clutched his
calf, thankful the bolt had missed his tail, but he could not mask his rage at
Roan’s arrogance. To think that
he
could
determine when negotiations could end! To think that
he
could end a firefight!

Grinek saw his men scramble to the top of the staircase,
where the marble railing had crumbled under the energy fire. His men looked
around and conversed, and then came to the balcony.

“Are they there?” Roh shouted up.

“No, sir!” came the reply. “No one’s here! Looks like they
retreated to a safe room!”

Godsdamn them.

Grinek heard whimpering below him. He remembered the
Earthman on the floor, a sign of his failure at negotiation. The man was
useless now. With one swift motion, Grinek brought his pistol to the prisoner’s
head and fired. With a hiss and a flash of red light, the Earthman’s body
disintegrated before he could even scream. All that remained was a black scorch
mark on the floor.

“Must have left my pistol on the high setting!” Grinek
joked, and that elicited a roar of teeth clacking from the men. The Commander
then pointed to the top of the balcony, the frivolity now over with. “You know
what to do. Get up there and get these filthy beings out of there.” The rotunda
thundered from the boots on the staircase.

Six against two-dozen Kotarans. The odds weren’t good.

Duvurn slapped his hand against a button tacked to the wall.
With a mechanical
clang
the wallpaper
swung open. Even royalty had to plan for any eventuality. What was a
considerably cramped space in the bedroom became suffocating as six of them
clamored into a small, bare safe room furnished only with benches. Once they
were all in, Duvurn cranked a lever and the door whirred shut. There was the
satisfying sound of a lock, but the room was pitch black.

There came a thud and the lights flickered on. Duvurn had
pounded his fist against a control panel.

“The lights are supposed to be automatic. As you can see, there
are still a few…
glitches
,” he said.
“I’ve never used this room.”

Roan was mentally elsewhere, still on the balcony, still
focused on seeing the Kotaran with Jasper. The image replayed in a loop in his
mind, a horror show that he couldn’t turn off. These Kotarans were unstoppable.
Since Tokyo they’d been following him, and had only left a trail of death in
their wake. First Aaron. Then the crew. When did it end?

Wind left his stomach and traveled up his chest, pounding
his ribs. He believed this was what a heart attack felt like.

Kel appeared beside him. “You OK?” she asked. She was
matching his expression with her azure eyes. Eyes of sympathy. The eyes he
would look into after a long voyage, or after a night of lovemaking. Looking into
them, he felt a small tinge of calm.

“I’ve been better,” Roan said. He could tell that Kel knew
what he meant, and she let out a long sigh. The stress was catching up to all
of them. For a month they’d been running and hiding. A lot of adrenaline was
flowing through their veins. If anything, it was more exhausting than
terrifying, but only because they’d always been one step ahead of the Kotarans.
Now they were trapped.

“That Kotaran down there,” Roan said. “That commander. I think
he was the one that killed Aaron on Earth.”

She couldn’t say much to that. Instead, she bit her lip and
looked down. Out of the corner of his eye, Roan saw David was watching the
exchange, but for some reason his head wasn’t glowing.

“I knew the Kotarans were bad,” Roan continued, mostly to
himself. “But that kanga down there had a look in his eyes. A look I could read
even from up on the balcony.”

“What look?” Kel said.

“Pure hatred.”

“Here is the situation,” Duvurn declared, as if he were
suddenly firmly in control. He was oblivious to the wear on Roan’s face. “I can
assure you your vessel is in good hands. My men took it out of the port this
morning—I know I did not tell you this, but it is the case—and sent
it to a smaller repair facility outside of the city. As far as I know, it has
not been compromised. Perhaps it is not as fully stocked as you might like, but
my men do have the means to defend themselves. I can have them fly over here
within the half-hour.”

“We will not survive that long,” David said, and the Nyden
had reverted to a panicked and pessimistic mood. But he was right: there was
pounding outside the thick-double doors of the panic room, noises that sounded
like wood being chopped away.

“Half an hour is better than nothing, no?”

“Tell me, Prince, is there anything you can tell us with
certainty?
”
 
Kel’s last ounce of patience had melted
away. “Just how safe is this room, for instance?”

“Perfectly safe,” Duvurn snapped. “I supervised its
construction myself—all the main bedrooms have safe rooms, of course. Do
you think I’d build a secure location knowing that it wouldn’t stand up to
attack?”
 
The gods were toying with
them, because as soon as Duvurn said that a series of a short pangs hammered away
at the steel door. Duvurn yelped. It sounded like several rifle bolts had just struck
the door from the other side.

The head bodyguard said something in his native tongue. The
words were throaty but solid; it didn’t seem like the guy was panicking.

Kel turned to David. “Translate, please.”

“He said this room has an automatic alarm. The authorities
in the Port of Siy should be alerted to what is happening to us the minute the
door is locked.”

“Can you trust them?” Kel asked. Duvurn started to laugh,
then stopped. No answer readily burst forth, and that didn’t bode well for
them. “Just what I thought. The authorities probably let the Kotarans just
waltz right in here.”

“Waltz?” Duvurn asked. “As in dance?”

“Never mind, Your Excellency. You might as well get on the
com right now and call anyone you know, see if they can take on these Kotarans.
And call the
Colobus
. Tell them to
get over here. We need all the help we can get.”

Duvurn waved and shouted something in Bauxen to his
bodyguard, who picked up a bulky-looking com from the wall and began dialing.
Presumably, it was an encrypted line to someone Duvurn trusted, but for all
anyone knew the line hadn’t been connected. Kel turned back to Roan and knelt
to his level, the pilot having sunk to the floor.

“Keep it together, Nick,” Kel said.

Roan closed his eyes and breathed in. He thought of Aaron,
thought of Kel, even thought about Masao and their last voyage on the
Dunnock
. Where was his copilot now, he
wondered? Enjoying some Bauxen drinks in the port of Siy? Searching for
companionship among the docks? Talking with the Company representative?
Wherever that location was, it was preferable to being suffocated in this safe
room.

“I think what I need right now is for everyone to shut up,”
he said. “There are too many voices.”
 
For a while, everyone was quiet.

***

Five simultaneous rifle shots could not breach the outer
door, but they made a dent in the steel, and the holes that resulted were
smoking hot. Clearly, however, it was going to take more than lasers to blast
through if they wanted to catch these people quickly. For all Grinek knew,
there was a secret passage on the other end leading to the Prince’s hangar.

Roh appeared in the room, his face caked in the white of the
marble and platinum dust drifting through the air. His chest was heaving, and
he no doubt relished his return to combat.

“We have cleared the palace. Most of the Bauxens have fled,
and we killed the rest. We found no more Earthmen.”

“They must all be cowering behind this door, Specialist.”

Roh regarded the unbreakable door. “Can we get it open,
Commander?”

“Yes, but I think we will have to blow them out. A pity,
since we might lose the device with the planet coordinates. And any knowledge
in their brains.”

“Commander, I only wish to avenge my imprisonment.”

“You will, Roh. If not with their live bodies, then with
their dead ones.”

***

Again, five soldiers fired their rifles at the door, but even
at their highest outputs the energy beams could not pierce it. The plaster and
wallpaper were well burnt, but beneath them was hardened steel. Obviously this
Prince Duvurn had spared no expense in the security of his home. Since time was
of the essence, Grinek decided to set a backup plan in motion.

“Specialist Roh, gather as many grenades as you can,” Grinek
ordered. “Find the location directly below the safe room and begin assembling a
bomb.” Roh bared his teeth in assent and hopped out of the room.

The Earthmen, Grinek thought, could find the floor
disappearing beneath them quite rapidly.

***

Duvurn’s bodyguard said something to the Prince in their
language and handed his master the com. Duvurn took it and talked into it for a
few moments, eventually screaming and yelling to whomever was on the other end.
After a minute, he set down the com and closed the connection. Wordlessly, he
balled his fists into the air and pumped them, not a sign of jubilation but of
indignation.

“That didn’t go so well, huh?” Kel asked, still kneeling at
Roan’s side.

“You know what the planetary police did? They laughed at me.
Said I was getting what I had coming. Can you believe that? And they call
themselves the
police
! My palace is
under their jurisdiction, dammit!”

“I thought you had many contacts,” David said, perhaps
realizing his own contact wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. “People you
trusted all over Bauxa.”

“I do! Or rather, I
did
!
Those bastards probably resold the Kotaran we arrested back to his own race!
He’s probably even out there as we speak.”
 
To emphasize their dire situation, the door and walls again shuddered.
From the crumbling metal, it sounded like the outer wall of the safe room had
been breached.

The bodyguard and the head servant spontaneously began
praying, head down and palms up toward the sky. Their rapid incantations, David
whispered, were of the select but influential Henagh sect, which preached that
there was an individual god for every Bauxen, similar to the Earth concept of a
guardian angel. At any other time it would have been fascinating to watch.
Duvurn, however, showed no sign of prayerful reflection as he paced the tiny
room.

“Is the
Colobus
on
its way?” Kel asked him.

“It is. I trust the men in charge of your ship. At least, I
did yesterday. My only concern is that they’ll arrive too late and we’ll be
raggon
manure.”

Nothing that was said spurred Roan to do what he did. Simply
put, he was tired of all the talking and wanted some action. He stood and
switched off his grief like flicking a switch, storing it on the wayside. At a
com panel he pressed some levers, attempting to manipulate them all in hopes
that one of them would do what he wanted. Duvurn noticed his consternation and
hobbled to the human’s side.

“Can I talk with the Kotarans?” Roan asked.

Duvurn grunted in shock. “What?”

“Can I talk to the house from here? I want to talk to the
Kotarans, maybe stall them and buy us some time.”

Duvurn caught on and coughed, signaling his acceptance of
the plan. “Yes, you can press the
uza
—oops,
I get confused with Earth colors—the
red
switch and talk to the house. They can find a com panel and respond to what you
say.”

“Worth a shot,” Roan said, and then pressed the red switch.
The panel lit up. “Attention Kotarans. Attention Kotarans. We want to talk.”

***

Ah,
now that you are trapped, you want to negotiate?
So typical.
Grinek, now in the dining room below the bedroom, located a com panel on the
wall and went to it. His men had been piling explosives on the table that they
would eventually use to bring down the ceiling and the miscreants above. Grinek
took a moment to find the right button on the com, then pressed it to respond
to the disembodied voice.

“There will be no talk. Surrender immediately,” Grinek said
into the com.

“Whoa, whoa! Let’s not be rude. Please, introduce yourself
to me. To whom am I speaking?”

“You surrender immediately.”

“
You
must tell me
your name, you kanga bastard, or you’ll never find the planet you’re looking
for.”

In anger, Grinek smashed the com, shattering glass but not
breaking it. He recognized the voice.

“I am…Commander Grinek of the Kotaran Imperium. My
reputation is very famous. No bargain. I also know your name, Nicholas Roan.”

“Am I supposed to be surprised you know my name? I don’t
give a shit. Listen, you let us get off Bauxa and we give you the coordinates.
We don’t want to be a part of this chase anymore. It’s that simple.”

Simple? That English word meant stupid, or perhaps not
difficult; Grinek couldn’t remember. He chose to ignore the phrase. “You cannot
demand. I have many Kotarans here who want to kill you. The one you imprisoned
and tortured on your ship. That Kotaran wants to talk with you. Have a…what is
the word? A
interrogation
.”

***

Shit, that guy was outside? He exchanged a glance with Kel,
who shook her head. “I enjoy killing your crew member,” this Commander Grinek
continued. “His death…stupid. In vain. It would be bad if your other friends
died also. Especially the female you have among you.” Roan pounded his foot
against the wall, trying to hold in anger. This commander was trying to provoke
him. “The only option left to you, I’m afraid…is surrender. Give me the
information I want, and I let your friends go. But not you. I need to know what
Aaron Vertulfo told you.”

“Don’t you dare mention his name, you kanga shit.”

“Aaron Vertulfo? Ah, he was your friend as well. Just
another scientist to me. A selfish one who did not want to share with others. I
was the one that killed him, you know…a pity he died for science, though this
is admirable in a way.”
 

If there hadn’t been a wall separating them, Roan might have
lunged for Grinek, and died trying. Yet another person invoking the name of
Aaron, this time a goddamn murderer. Roan’s muscles grew tense and he felt
himself shaking, as if he was about to snap apart, until a hand fell on his
shoulder.

It was David. He gestured that he wanted to use the com.
Roan relaxed his body and moved away from the panel, curious as to what the
Nyden intended. David whispered a “thank you” and then leaned in to the com.

***

The foolish Earthman was silent, and Grinek was pleased that
he was angry. An opponent in such situations invariably made a mistake. But it
was all a game, a way to toy with his prey before he killed it. Grinek was
going to continue insulting Vertulfo when a voice on the other end began
speaking to him in his native language.