The Siege of New Terra (Star Sojourner Book 7) (7 page)

His hand wavered over the link, prepared to punch in a code.

I strengthened the probe, and targeted his cortex, that wrinkled gray matter that makes decisions, besides its other duties.
You don't need the comlink,
I sent.
Give it to me.

He hesitated. His eyes glazed over and he swayed.

Give me the comlink!

He plunked the comlink into my outstretched hand. “I don't need this,” he mumbled.

Where is the key to access the hovair?

“The key…locked away. Locked away safe. In a safe.”

What safe? Where?

“In Big Mack's private safe. In his office.” His eyelids fluttered. His mouth went slack. His head tilted to one side. “I have to get back to work,” he slurred. “But I'm so tired.”

The keys to the jeeps. Where are they?

He rubbed his eyes and yawned.
“You want to requisition a jeep?”

Yeah. Where are they?

He waved sleepily to a wall board with keys on hooks.

I went there, grabbed a key marked J, and slipped into a jeep.
You're so tired,
I sent to the mechanic as I turned on the engine.
Sleep now. You need sleep.

He slid to the floor and began to snore.

“Sweet dreams.” I started the jeep. The green light flashed on. Fully charged.

“
Now
where are you headed, Rammis?” Big Mack came around the hovair, followed by two of his men. “You just can't stay put, can you?” He came up to the jeep and gripped the door.

“Where would I go?” I asked. “I just…just wanted to see the sights. These mountains, you know, they remind me of my home state, Colorado.”

“Colorado.” Mack smiled. “Shut it off and get out,” he said amiably. “I just can't trust you.” He glanced at the sleeping mechanic and raised his bushy brows. “You have a dangerous mind. It's back to the cell, compadre.”

“Now wait a minute, Mac.”

He grabbed my jacket. “Get out!”

“OK! I'm coming.” I turned the door handle and slammed him hard with the open door.

He fell back, howling, and curled into a fetal position on the grimy floor with both hands on his crotch.

One of the tags jumped over the passenger door and made a grab for me. I yanked his stingler from its holster and slammed his head with it. He whimpered and I felt his body go limp. I threw him back out. The other tag stood, spread-eagled, in front of the jeep, aiming his stingler.

“Stop!” he yelled, “or I'll fire!”

I hit the gas and he jumped aside.

“Get that son of a bitch!” Big Mac grated. “I want his ass!”

I stayed low in the seat as I tore out of the hangar, and threw the comlink on the ground. Even when turned off, they could track me by it. My scalp tingled with the dispersed beam from the stingler. I raced across the field, headed for the gate, staying low, and closed my eyes as I smashed through it. Splintered wood and ripped wire sailed through the air. Alarm sirens wailed behind me as I left the dirt road and took to the woods.

I have a lousy sense of direction, but I thought I was headed south. I reached over and rummaged through the console compartment. My hand closed on a round instrument.
Please, Great Mind,
let it be a compass.

I opened my hand as I bounced between trees. “Thank you, Lord!” I said when I saw the compass I held. Uh oh. I'd been heading east. I turned south.

I stayed to the cover of trees and drove a circuitous route. It wasn't long before I heard the whine of hovairs behind me and the growl of land vehicles.

The forest was thick with towering conifers that formed a canopy overhead. I glanced up when I heard a hovair fly by and skinned a tree trunk with the jeep. It lifted to two wheels, then bounced back on all four.

Sooner or later they would track me down, either by air or land. I needed a hideout until dark.

A large brown animal, elk-like, with a unicorn horn, leaped out of the brush, panicked, his eyes showing whites, and ran into my path. I swerved to miss him, slammed into a sapling and careened over it. The jeep was hung up on the split trunk and entangled branches. Its rear tires smoked. I threw it into reverse and tore ruts in the ground as I tried to back it out. I was losing precious time.

“C'mon, dammit!” I muttered and rammed the jeep into full forward. Tires ripped the torn sapling. The jeep's whine lowered to a growl as it forced a path through splintered trunk and branches.

I was free, but my pursuers were close behind. I cut west, for deeper woods. They must have spread out because I heard a jeep behind me.

I gritted my teeth and purposely drove into a shallow gorge that was thick with bushes. I jumped out, stuffed the compass into my pocket, lasered some bushes at their base with my stingler, and threw them over the jeep. My pursuers were too close to run. I crawled under the warm vehicle and lay panting, my head on mulchy leaves that smelled like home.

When the woods were quiet, I crawled out, brushed myself off, and climbed the side of the gorge. The jeep might well be chipped for location. It would take them awhile to find it without a global positioning system orbiting the planet, but they could triangulate and eventually locate it.

I trotted about a quarter of a mile away from the gorge, found a tree that I could climb from branch to branch, and hid within its crown.

Below me the forest floor was rich with tall grass and wildflowers. A small furry mammal darted to a tree and climbed it. The air smelled bittersweet with the tangy scent of wet foliage. Somewhere, a birdlike creature chirped out a song that probably told other creatures to stay out of his territory. Above my head, silver-rimmed clouds sailed a sapphire sky, riding the wings of a gentle breeze.

I leaned my head back and sighed.
Beauty above me,
Native American people had said of their lands on Earth,
beauty around me. Beauty beneath me.
But they had been decimated by the European colonists and their military force, their homes ripped away from them, their land given to settlers, and a conscious effort made to exterminate them. I sighed as I looked around.

Now it was happening again, here.

I jumped, and realized I'd fallen asleep. The day was waning. A molten sun burned clouds with rays of fire to the west. I felt stiff from my cramped position as I climbed down the branches and walked slowly back to the gorge, waiting for night to sheath me in its black fold. The forest was coming alive with hunters and prey, chirping and grunting.

If the mercs found the jeep, chances were good the area would be staked out, waiting for me to return.

I took the stingler from my waistband, lifted the jacket hood over my light hair, crouched, and moved stealthily across the leafy floor, avoiding branches and even twigs.

Gone! The jeep was gone. The woods were silent, but I had no doubt that men were positioned around the gorge.

I retraced my steps, then turned south. Spirit had said it was fifty miles to the Orghes' Village. I had covered about twenty with the jeep. It would be a long hike, but I had my trusty compass to keep me on course, until…

* * *

Until I came to the top of a cliff about ten miles into my trek. Below, rolling waves broke against the jutting boulders.

“What the hell…” I checked my compass again. It pointed due south, into the mouth of the sea.

Spirit! What were you thinking? Spirit.

I was thinking, Terran, how pleasant it would be if you would grant Silva and I the privacy we crave.

Well, your compass points are screwed. I walked due south and–

Oh. I see. You came to the sea.

Nice that you noticed.

I might have been a trifle off…yes, it's southwest. Just continue west along the coast.

Are you sure this time?

What did you say, dear?

I asked if you were sure.

Not you. Silva, my luscious, just a short interlude. Terrans are a demanding lot, especially this one. West, Jules! As in your Westward go the dragons!

That's–

He broke the link before I could muster a retort.

I walked across a high plains desert through the night and came to an escarpment at daybreak overlooking the Orghes' Village below. I was tired, hungry, but mostly thirsty. My legs burned and I was staggering.

I laid down and studied the village. Simple wooden houses were scattered throughout a flat plain, with mountains looming above eastern woods, and fields of grain to the south. I wondered if it was native or grown from imported seed.

Drying meat and fish hung on racks. Animal skins were stretched out on frames next to stacked dugouts.

It was difficult to make out the individual people, and Chancey had my graphoculars, but as day brightened, the scene below sharpened like a developing photograph of centuries past.

The Orghes were furred beings, ranging from black, to brown, tan, golden, and ivory. They moved with a hunched, swaying gait. I got the impression that they could run on their broad hands and feet, if need be. They wore loin cloths and animal-skin capes that reached to the backs of their knees.

Children with short, uniformly silver coats, ran, shouted, and swung easily into trees and from branch to branch. One hung by a hand and kicked a child passing beneath him. The child sat in the dirt and wailed. I watched an adult go down on all fours and chase the fleeing kicker into the woods.
Not too different from human kids,
I thought.

Cook fires flared within rounds of rocks that dotted the village center, with strips of meat on spits. A bare-breasted woman slid a loaf of baked bread from out a rock oven that reminded me of outdoor Hispanic homos back home.

People called to each other in their native tongue and laughed as they performed their morning chores. Smells of the baked bread and meat rose on a breeze.

I sighed. Next to water, a cup of hot brew and some slices of fried bread would've been heaven, even without the book of verse, the wine, and Sophia by my side. Sophia. I missed my beautiful lady. But it was enough to know that she was safe back on Earth.

I closed my eyes. It had been a hard night's trek. I would rest for a while here before going down to the village and finding my friends.

Joe. I wanted to probe for him and form a tel-link. Now that he was back with the team, maybe his mental state had improved.

In a few minutes,
I thought wearily and closed my eyes. I fell asleep.

Something sharp prodded my back. “What?” I jumped to a sitting position.

Five Orghes, about my six-foot height, surrounded me. They were blunt-faced, with slanting yellow eyes, wide nostrils, and muscular arms and legs. Their long-toed bare feet were braced, with curved claws that dug into dirt. But my gaze went past all that, and locked onto the bows and arrows that were drawn taut and pointed at me.

“Uh, tags,” I said, and stood up carefully, my hands raised away from the stingler in my waistband, “I can explain who I am. Could you lower those weapons? I come in peace.”

They studied me silently.

I bit my lip. “No, I guess not.”

“This Terran,” a golden-coated Orghe said in stelspeak, with a lisping tone, “was with the butchers on their raid last night.” He jabbed his bow at me. “I saw him, Oldore,” he told a tan-furred tag whose face and head were white.

“I was their prisoner,” I said. “I escaped and came here to find my friends.”

“Then why did you
help
them?” golden-coat shouted. His muscles were bunched beneath his pelt. “You
warned
them that it was a trap!” He narrowed his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“That's kind of complicated,” I said, “but I didn't want to see anybody get killed. Not them, and not any of your people.” I glanced around. “We Terrans…we're not all butchers. Ask my friends about me. They're here in your village, right?” I looked around. “Three Terrans and a Vegan?”

Their wooden bows remained taut.

“Well, aren't they?”

“They are out,” Oldore said in a raspy tone, “searching for their Terran friend, Jules.”

“That's me! I'm Jules.”

“So you say.” The golden-furred one snarled and moved closer. His strung arrow was inches from my chest. “I say you are a spy for the butchers and should be executed.”

I caught my breath and took a step back.

He glanced at Oldore. “I would do it myself, Senior-breth. Right now!”

“Wait a minute!” I felt the blood drain from my face. “I'm not–”

“If you came in peace,” Oldore said quietly, "where is your sumbra wreath?'

“You know, I forgot about that. But I'll
make
one.” I looked around for a green bush. "Just give me a little time…

OK?"

Oldore's thick lips thinned as they spread into a grin, displaying teeth as yellow as his eyes. He chuckled. “Sunrai,” he addressed the golden one, and his shoulders relaxed, “take that weapon from the Terran's waist. Put away your slings, my breths, I think he is who he says he is.”

I let out a breath. “Do you have some water?” I asked Oldore as Sunrai yanked the stingler from my pants. “I'm as parched as that desert I came through.”

He pointed toward the village.

The five of them surrounded me as we walked down a rocky path and into the community. I was so tired I stumbled a few times. Oldore took my arm as we walked.

The laughter died. The people paused to stare at me. Some grunted and wiped hands across their eyes. A female lifted a loaf of roasted bread from out an oven. I breathed in the warm aroma and my mouth watered.

As we passed a young boy, his silver coat laced with golden strands of adult fur, he scooped up a rock and threw it at me. It missed and hit the ivory-coated tag next to me.

He grunted. “Spawn of your mother's diseased afterbirth!” He picked up the rock and drew back his hand to throw it at the boy.

“Run!” I told the boy.

He stood straighter and jutted his chin.

Oldore lifted his bow against the ivory tag's raised arm to stay the throw.

The tag lowered his arm and dropped the rock. “Excuse me, Senior-breth. I forget myself.” He wiped a hand across his eyes. “Pain makes me irate.”

“True words.” Oldore wiped his eyes with a hand.

“Isn't he exotic?” I heard a young girl, her breasts mere bumps on her chest, tell her friend as we walked by.

The other girl nodded. “Too bad he's the enemy of LorHanns.” She scratched her furry cheek and hooted softly. “He'd make a fine pet.”

“Are you certain,” the other girl said and nudged her friend, “that you only want him as a pet?”

I looked at Oldore.

He chuckled. “Come, Jules of Terra breth. This way.”

He led me to a wooden barrel. I was so tired, I was swaying. Sunrai took off the lid. The barrel was half full of water. Oldore filled a ladle and extended it to me. “This is good water. Drink.”

I stared at the ladle and sighed. “It could be fatal for a Terran.”

“It was not fatal to your friends. They dropped in small white pellets and they drank.”

“Digestall!” I said with relief, took the offered ladle and drank my fill.

“Senior Breth,” the ivory-furred tag said to Oldore, “we would like to break our fast now.”

Oldore nodded and the four tags strolled to different cook fires.

“This way.” Oldore led me alongside a corral of strange green-scaled creatures with slanted ridged backs and heavy reptilian tails. They towered at about seven feet at the tips of their tufted ears.

Some crouched around the remains of a unicorn elk. I heard powerful jaws snap bones and crunch them. Others followed us along the fence. One raised his snake-like neck over the top rail and sniffed my hair. His smoky breath smelled like brimstone as he breathed into my ear.

“Friendly,” I said as I stared into his round red eyes.

“These are draks,” Oldore said. “He's deciding if he should eat you.”

“What?” I moved away.

The creature laid back lips to expose blades for teeth, and hissed.

“When they see that you are an intergrate, they will obey your commands…probably.”

“What commands?”

“If you should have reason to ride one.”

“These are your
mounts
?”

He scratched under his loin cloth. “On a good day. The decision is theirs.”

I thought of Gretch, a recalcitrant mount I had half tamed on planet Syl' Terra. She allowed me to ride her when the mood struck. Still, I missed ole Gretch.

“Your friends were lucky,” Oldore said, “today was a good day for a ride.”

“A ride where?”

“They thought you were still a prisoner of the Big Mack and went to rescue you.”

“Oh, great. Did they leave one of our comlinks?”

“They took them so they could have ears in the butchers' camp and find you.”

“So where's our ship?”

“Hidden well in deep forest.” He lifted his long-fingered hand in a waving motion.

I shook my head. “What?”

“They said it would be too easy to see in the sky.”

I stared at the bony-plated drak with its slanted back. “You mean Chancey is riding one of these…
Beasts,
I thought but didn't say.”One of these draks?"

Oldore smiled. “We gave him the gentlest one, a pregnant female.”

I pictured Chancey onboard a drak and shook my head. “Oh, man.”