by Luke Norris
“What? No! No, wait!” Yarn was too late as the man swung the steel at her neck with force to sever it completely. The scythe swished through the air. Shira just stared, oblivious to the conversation that had taken place, to the inspection of her body, and to the cold steel swinging toward her...
“Please no,” Verity gasped. It happened so fast she felt helpless.
The blow stopped mid-swing, to the dismay and frustration of the farmer. He found Costa's hand gripping his wrist. Undeterred the farmer took another swing but quicker than an eyeblink Costa’s hand was there again to stop the blow.
Verity realized she had been holding her breath.
“You can't do that!” Costa explained. He spoke slowly and shook his head. The farmer looked confused and started gesturing with open palms to the wound on Shira's belly, and her vacant expression, the inflections in his voice were full of entreaty, he was appealing to Costa to see reason. He walked away in disgust when he realized Costa wouldn't budge.
“He thinks he was doing that out of compassion, not cruelty,” Verity said, studying the farmers face.
“Damn it. What's happened to her?” Yarn said.
“Whatever that creature did to her, it obviously makes her a threat to these people,” Costa replied. “Look! They're burning the body of that thing already.”
They had placed the Arthropod's body on the large pile of brush and dry foliage. The flames began to crackle and quickly build to a roaring cremation fire.
“Hell! They didn't waste any time.”
They had to stay there until the farmers were satisfied with the roasted, blackened shell that remained. Eventually, they started moving again, and the locals did not approach Shira again.
They thought killing Shira is mercy, Verity thought. What has happened to her?
19. Fight
They started moving, but Costa had taken two steps before he found his path barred by the mountainous frame of Jerome. His mouth set in a line below his broad flat nose. His brown eyes and flat brow carried disdain, but Costa felt a deeper loathing behind the stony set features. Jerome’s soft voice carried a menacing presence that didn't threaten. Costa knew drivers don't threaten. It carried danger.
“I'll have my knife back now!” Jerome said.
“Come on. We have to get to the village,” Costa replied. He started to step around the bull of a man. There is no way I am giving him the knife.
Jerome put his hand out on to Costa's chest, stopping him from passing. “I don't find it a coincidence that you lied about seeing smoke in this direction, and now here we are among these hill people.” He paused. “I don't find it a coincidence that you are protecting the woman when she is clearly a danger to us.” He applied pressure to Costa's chest causing him to step back. “Now you won't return my knife. Well, I don't find that surprising either.” He leaned in close to Costa's ear, “I know you’re one of them.” he said, in tones like the soft lull before a tsunami.
Costa had been still the entire time Jerome had been talking, but his dark brow raised slightly at this last remark. A look of mirth came across his face.
“Jerome, Jerome,” he spoke quietly, “you think you've figured something out? Well perhaps you're too smart for your own good...don't you recognize my voice?”
The others were not aware of the power play between the two men as they trudged ahead.
“Come on, you two!” Riff called back. “We can't be far from a village now.”
Costa ignored the engineer, his attention was locked fiercely on the driver. He couldn’t let this lie now, Jerome had let slip that he knew too much and Costa had to deal with him before he said something to the other drivers.
To Costa, Riff’s voice was already sounding like a recording played at half speed. All his senses were heightened. He was boosting. Costa was starting to consume time at a quicker metabolic rate. The drips of perspiration from Jerome's nose seemed to be falling slower.
“Don't you recognize my voice?” Costa repeated. “It should be familiar, you've heard it a hundred times in your battle helmet, sending you to hundreds of assaults.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I'm Command.”
With the last word he spoke Costa moved his hand with uncanny speed to the big man’s throat, his arm was a blur. But Jerome had anticipated Costa's move. Hundreds of battles, and the programming and implants that the drivers had, made Jerome an instinctual fighting force. He knew Costa's move before Costa knew it himself. Despite Costa’s inhuman speed, Jerome deflected his hand and thrust a jackhammer fist into Costa's ribs. There was a sickly crack as one fractured. Costa rolled on the ground in complete surprise, he could taste blood in the back of his throat.
“It's ironic,” Jerome said, bending down and picking Costa up by the jumpsuit, “you made me into this, this thing that I am, and now I will end you.” He threw the smaller man into the crest of the bank. Costa coughed a mouthful of blood.
The quiet urgent voice of Yarn drew Jerome's attention. “Come on Costa stop fooling around!” The man ordered, only loud enough so the two fighters could hear. “This is dangerous. End him!”
Jerome's cannonball head snapped to the other man. “You!” His murderous eyes fixed on the man. “You're next, you low life pirate!”
“I wouldn't count on that,” Yarn said.
Several of the other drivers further along the trail turned back to see what was happening and stopped in surprise to see the giant, powerful frame of Jerome poised above Costa.
Yarn’s distraction had been enough for the stricken Costa to recover himself. He had drawn the small utility knife he had taken from Jerome on the descent from the plateau. Now he was standing before the powerful, angry bull with a vicious grin, made uglier by the blood on his teeth.
Jerome went to grab him by the throat, but suddenly with inhuman speed, which appeared to the onlookers as if Costa was in several places at once, Costa stabbed the big driver’s torso nine times in the middle and on both sides.
Jerome heaved at the sudden damage to his body but took a lunging swing at Costa's head. Costa avoided the blow with ease, and in a second blur of motion stabbed several more times. Jerome let out a frustrated agonizing howl, not of pain but of a man having justice robbed of him. He swung again but Costa’s face was a phantom, it moved so quickly. The utility blade was only three inches long but the big man had so many stab wounds, blood was leaking out of him like water through a sieve. The next lunge from Costa was met with no resistance, Jerome was too weak. The blade sliced his chest and stomach several more times.
Jerome let out another roar of anguish and dropped to his knees and raised his face to the sky. “Why god? Why would you take this from me?” His head slumped forward so his chin was against his chest, he could see his ruined body as he swayed slightly.
Costa leaned in close, and Jerome felt Costa's hot breath in his ear. “What god are you calling to, driver? We are your gods...first-stager.” He spat the last words.
In his moment of gloating Costa didn't see Jerome's fist, as it came up in a last act of reprisal. It connected with the already cracked rib, breaking it through cleanly and pushing it into Costa's lung. They locked eyes at that moment and Costa's blue eyes went from excruciating agony to blind fury, and he tore the knife across Jerome's throat and then dropped the blade on the trail and sat back against the bank holding his side. Jerome swayed on his knees, head hung forward, teetering then slowly lurching forward he crashed to the ground with a soft thud and small puff of dust.
Yarn came over and rocked Jerome’s body with his foot. “Is he dead?” He curiously rolled Jerome's body onto its side. Large pools of blood had collected under the body. “Sweet mother that's probably half the man’s blood.”
Yarn looked up at Costa lying back across the bank clutching his side. “I saw you moving. That was impressive, I've seen some impressive things, but I ain't never seen a display like that. Got you too by the looks. Is it bad? Can you still walk?”
“Yeah, I should be
...aargh!” Costa's breathing was rapid and accompanied by a cackling sound every time he exhaled. “Where are the local hill people gone? Where are the others?”
“They are walking ahead with Cougar on the stretcher,” Yarn said. “They’re none the wiser that anything has happened here.” He looked at the huge slain driver on the ground. “We can come back for his body once we get you to the village and in a bed.” He coaxed himself under Costa's arm to help him stand.
They left Jerome's body where it lay. His powerful heart had pumped the last of his lifeblood one last time, and then gave out.
20. Last conversation
If it had not been for the sudden surge of people that had come to see their mystifying arrival, Verity wouldn’t have realized they’d reached the village. People were now emerging directly out of the hillside itself. Proud men with folded arms long braided black hair adorning their shoulders, women with shoulder-length hair and babes peering between their legs. All had the same hazel eyes and fair skin. Even the proudest looking of the villagers abandoned their poise at the sight of the eight shaven travelers clad in white.
Verity could guess what they were saying as they spoke amongst each other. Look even the women are shaven. That man’s skin is black like Casha bark. It seemed to Verity that just as perplexing as the strange appearance of the travelers, was the direction from which they came. Many were pointing toward the black mountains. Their voices rose louder as more and more of the hill people surrounded the travelers.
The two men who had been carrying the driver, Cougar, on the stretcher laid him down carefully and gratefully stretched out their backs. They had been lifting his weight for nearly an hour. A woman emerged from one of the nearby stone entrances and approached the farmer who had first discovered them. She spoke some words to him, and he kissed her forehead. He showed her the wound on Oliver’s leg, she called a small boy and gave him a small round leaf, brown and dried. He nodded earnestly at her instruction, then went running off. They then lifted Oliver and took him to the entrance.
This simple expression of affection between a mom and her child almost made Veritý lose her composure. She’d been so trapped in this world she almost forgotten what normal relationships looked like. She instantly thought of Terras and her family.
She was pulled out of her reverie by the sight of Costa, slung over Captain Yarn’s shoulder. Was he injured? Yes, and badly by the looks of things.
*
“Damn it, man! Why didn't you speed up earlier?” the captain asked.
“It was hard,” Sergeant Costa replied. “Things weren't responding the way I thought.” Costa's breathing was coming slow wheezy gasps, and his lips were blue in the light of the lamps fixed to the stone wall. “I underestimated him.”
“He knew, did he? Or suspected who you were?”
“He knew alright! He must have killed the mercenary too. He had to be dealt with, or he would have picked us off one by one.” A racking cough caught Costa, and he spat some more blood into the bowl beside him. “Looks like this is our last tour together, eh Captain?” He smiled grimly.
The engineer who had been sitting in the corner shuffled uncomfortably.
“Don't be ridiculous Costa,” Yarn leaned in, “come on man! We have a plan, remember?” He rubbed his temples, “and I don't know if Shira's going to make it.” He placed his hand on the hand of the mortally wounded sergeant. “They have quarantined her outside of the village. “She is comfortable...as she can be. Verity is with her.”
Sergeant Costa coughed in answer and grimaced in pain. His deep blue eyes were still lucid when he looked at the captain. “Remember that planet where we were the only early traders? No one else showed up.” He chuckled “No one. Not Bonobo’s crew or Seran’s ship. We thought our payday had come. We didn't need any drivers, there was no competition, no battles, we couldn't figure out why we were the only ones. We just went around collecting, and it was a gold mine, all that virgin culture.”
The captain laughed, “yea, I remember,” his thin eyes squinted in amusement.
“And we couldn't figure out why none of the other crews were there,” Costa continued, “because I mean, that planet was chirping like a songbird, they had already achieved space travel to the end of their solar system.” Costa paused, his breath crackling and rasping. “We were still frolicking around on the planet when U.W.F. showed. We were so wrapped up in our payday we didn't notice the authorities arriving,” he chuckled. “I thought we were done, I mean, we were on the planet with our hand in the cookie jar, I thought it was exile for sure. That's why none of the other crews had come because it was a bloody suicide.” He gripped the captain’s hand, “but somehow U.W.F. hadn't seen our ship in orbit around one of those three hundred moons. We waited, and they made no sign they knew we were there. When they started talking with the government, we realized they had no idea that early traders were on the planet and so we just kept on silently raiding. We did it right under their noses. I will never forget the look on Bonobo’s face when he saw the loot. He hadn't even brought his ship near that system.”
The captain laughed, but the engineer who was sitting against the wall watching the two men, saw a tear rolling down his captain’s cheek.
“Yeah, we were crazy bastards, that's for sure,” the captain replied, “but you know the U.W.F. changed the law regarding Early traders? Well, piracy they call it, but that doesn't sound very eloquent. At the last United-Worlds Federation summit, it was agreed that any contact with first-stage planets is still completely outlawed before they are invited into the U.W.F, but they have reinstated the death penalty for piracy. Although, I'm not sure if that's worse than exile. I mean what hypocrites! Society condemns what we do and then pay top dollar for our spoils, and they know full well that the goods they buy didn't come from a legit planet.” The captain chuckled and shook his head, “the irony. Makes the stakes higher and the game more exciting I say.”
“Yea, but the U.W.F police is one number I never want to meet,” Riff said from the corner of the room. He was squatted on his haunches watching the two. “I heard they have a planet where they breed them especially,” his thin lips twitched.
“I don't know about a planet that breeds them,” the captain said, “but I think they are more cyborg than person, certainly nothing anyone of us could stand against. Anyhow they ain't never caught your captain yet, and they never will.” He gave a devilish grin.
There was silence for a moment. Costa looked deathly pale. “You really think this plan of yours is going to work?”
“We've talked about it, and the engineer agrees that technically it's possible.” The captain replied. He looked to Riff who nodded,
“Technically.”
“Yeah, but I mean full stasis cryogenic sleep outside of the ship...here in this environment?” Costa said.
“We've talked about that already. We will have to go to the mountains where it's cold and…”
“But that's only one part of it. Even if you survive, do you really think the people on this planet will be ready by then? Look around! I don't think sleeping for one hundred years is long enough for these people to produce the technology to get into space.” Costa weakly pointed to his stone brick surroundings.
“It's a grand scheme, I admit,” replied the captain, “but grand schemes are my specialty. Anyway, this is just a mountain village, our ship’s scans of this continent showed the population is denser down near the coast, that's where we have to go. And, of course we aren't going to let them develop at their own rate! We are going to deliberately seed technology.”
“Ha!” another racking cough took Costa. More blood came up. “That is a grand scheme! I hope it works out for you my friend,” he squeezed the captain’s hand, “I wish you luck.”
The captain just nodded. The grave sight of his friend was plain, no words needed to be said.
The sergeants breathing became more labored as the night went on and his lung filled with blood. Conversation became less
until only the arduous sound of Costa's breathing ensued. He fought with painful rasping breaths until his brain was so starved of oxygen that he fell unconscious. In the small hours of the morning, the mortally wounded sergeant drew his last breath. The captain wept as he placed the sergeant's hands across his chest in a final resting position.
21. The village
In the weeks since they had arrived in the village Verity had become acquainted with the inhabitants somewhat. The villager’s initial distrust of her and the others had stemmed from the suspicion that they belonged to a neighboring clan. This possibility was soon dispelled, as none of the village elders found their language or appearance like anything they’d seen. But this just made their arrival all the more curious. Where had they come from? They knew all the clans that lived along the foothills for a hundred miles, and hunting parties had delved deep to the base of the black mountains, there were no records of any people living there. This was always the main question they asked her during the attempts at communication.
Early conversations consisted of Verity waving her arms, pointing and fingers walking to indicate travel. It quickly became clear to the villagers that Verity had an aptitude for languages. In between her spells nursing Shira and Cougar she would spend hours interacting with the women and children, building her vocabulary and mimicking the guttural tongue. Occasionally she would accompany the men and women to the green terraces full of the reed crop that was still being harvested on the great domed hills behind the village. She became the natural favorite and the automatic go-between to talk with the travelers.
Verity found respite in spending time the families, interacting with the children, and just being away from the other crew members. She was glad of any chance to escape from Yarn and Riff’s constant scheming. Somehow being around those two was more tiring than the physical work on the plantation. Here with these people, she was having normal human interactions again. Despite the worlds of difference between this basic lifestyle and Terras, she felt some affinity with them.