The Narrow Path To War

by D L Frizzell

  Cale was sitting up in his bed, clean and in good spirits. Keeva sat next to him on the edge of the bed, caressing his arm and smiling at him. A nurse checked a clipboard and gave an approving nod before leaving.

  “Hey, Cale,” Alex said as he entered the room.

  Keeva jumped up and kissed Alex on the cheek. "Thanks."

  “Well,” Alex replied, managing a smile. “We’ve got you to thank too, Keeva. You brought the cavalry.”

  “That was the easy part,” She said and returned to Cale's side. She leaned over and kissed his head.

  “Ow,” Cale flinched.

  She kissed him on the lips. He smiled more genuinely than Alex had.

  “May I join you?” a man’s voice came in from the hallway. Alex held the door open.

  Colonel Seneca entered. “Good work today, young lady. And that goes for both of you men as well."

  "Thanks," Alex said, looking distant.

  "You feel okay?" Seneca asked.

  "I feel fine," Alex said.

  "Me too," Cale smiled, putting his hand on Keeva’s arm.

  "We've had an exciting day, is all," Alex explained.

  "Of course," Seneca replied. "I'm glad everything turned out well."

  “Any idea where the Jugs went, colonel?” Cale asked.

  “We lost their trail in the marsh,” Seneca answered. "It looks like they're headed west."

  "What about the Celeste?" Alex asked. "Did you find out what they were doing there?"

  "That place is a labyrinth of hazards," Seneca answered. "I doubt we'll find anything useful."

  "I'll go back in," Alex said. "I remember where they were."

  Seneca shook his head. "The marshal’s in town. He’s been working on another case, but he's agreed to look into this before heading back to the Sheers Territory. He's an experienced tracker and frontiersman, so he can get in and out as safely as anyone can.”

  “I’d like to meet him,” Cale said. “Tell him what I know. Help as much as I can.”

  “Me too,” Alex said.

  “He’s waiting outside in the garden,” Seneca told them. “He couldn’t come in because, well, let’s say he didn’t have time to bathe when he rode in to town.”

  “Can I go out to see him?” Cale asked.

  “Not right now,” Seneca replied. “The doctor says you need to sit tight while your wounds heal. It’ll be a few weeks before you can go anywhere.”

  “I can talk to him, Cale,” Alex said. “I know pretty much all there is to know. And besides, I think Keeva enjoys having you sit still for once.”

  Keeva blushed, then wrapped her hands around Cale’s arm.

  “Alright,” Cale said.

  “I’ll stop by later and let you know what we find," Seneca said. "I'll ask the garrison chef to cook up something nice for you, too.” Seneca turned to leave with Alex. As the door closed behind them, Alex glanced back into the room to check Cale one more time. Keeva had turned away from Cale for a moment, and he nodded wearily at Alex. When Keeva turned back to him, he put his smile back on. Alex let the door close.

  Colonel Seneca and Alex left the hospital and found their way to the garden. Alex saw a large man standing near the flowers. He was dressed head to toe in lizard-skin with a wide, flat-brimmed hat that covered his face in shadow. A machete sat in a sheath on his left hip, a large-caliber pistol in a holster on the right. They fit the man, whose muscular torso and giant arms made the weapons look like they were merely worn for ornamental purposes. The metal star on his chest was anything but ornamental. It carried the full weight of judge, jury, and executioner across four territories. That it was covered with mud at that moment only gave it more prestige in Alex’s opinion. As imposing a figure as he was, it missed no one’s attention that he was covered from head to toe in crusted sludge. And he smelled terrible.

  The marshal reached into the garden, picked a few lavender flowers and held them delicately in his meaty fingers. Grinning at a passing orderly who scowled at him, he put the flowers up to his nose for a big sniff.

  “You’ll need more than a few flowers to cover that smell, marshal,” Colonel Seneca joked.

  The marshal turned to Seneca in response, pushing back his hat to reveal a bearded face and dark eyes that twinkled in the sunlight. In the few spots that weren’t covered with grime, Alex could see a deep tan and laugh lines. “Ho, colonel,” the marshal replied in a baritone voice. “I just wanted to see if my nose worked yet. I’ve had this stench on me for a while now.”

  "Can you smell anything?"

  "Nope," the marshal replied.

  “I expect the hotel will have a bar of soap with your name on it, then,” Seneca chuckled.

  “They told me I'd find it in the barn,” the marshal said with a crooked grin. "They're makin’ me sleep with my horse." He looked at Alex curiously. "Have we met before?"

  “Marshal Hugh Redland,” Seneca gestured in way of introduction, “This is Alex Vonn.”

  Alex extended his hand to greet the marshal. Redland pulled his hands back to his shoulders, showing they were covered in black soot.

  “Let’s save the handshake for later,” Redland suggested.

  “Okay,” Alex replied. “You don't come from the Sheers Territory, do you? I don't recognize your accent.”

  “You’ve got a good ear,” Redland nodded in approval. “I'm from New Arrhenius originally, but I've been based out of Ovalsheer for the last twenty years.” He grabbed a handful of flowers from the garden and rolled them into mulch between his palms. He sized up Alex as he did so.

  “You’re Richard Vonn’s boy, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You look like him. And you carry yourself the same way,” Redland said. “I met him a few times. He was a good man.”

  “That's what everyone says,” Alex said flatly.

  Redland Alex a blank stare. “Yeah, you must get tired of hearin’ that.”

  Alex shrugged.

  Seneca, not wanting the conversation to get any more awkward, changed the subject. “What did you fall into, marshal?” Seneca asked. “You smell like a sewer.”

  “Might as well been,” the marshal answered. “I tracked an escaped prisoner to a bog east of here. Fool thought he could hole up inside a bog-dog’s den and that I wouldn’t think to look for him there on account of the smell.” Redland discarded the mulch and rubbed his hands against his duster, leaving a trail of black streaks and flower petals. “It was pretty obvious to me he was down there.” After sniffing his hands, he continued, “I still had a hell of a time drawin’ him out." Redland grabbed a handful of dirt from the garden and rubbed it between his hands. "Anyway, that's one ordeal I'm glad to have behind me. How can I help you today, colonel?"

  "Not to be indelicate, Hugh," Seneca said. "Wouldn't you like to bathe before we talk?"

  "Why? I don't smell anything?" He winked at Alex. "It can wait, Jim. The situation you described sounds like it needs some attention right away."

  "Ah," Seneca replied. "I suppose so." He reconsidered his plan to discuss the matter in his office.

  "I understand there were Jugs on the Celeste," Redland said.

  "That's right," Alex replied. "They were in the city first, though."

  "What?" Seneca asked.

  "The hell you say," Redland added.

  "They broke into Norio’s house and trashed the place," Alex said.

  "Well, tell us about it then," Redland said, placing his hands on his hips. "Where did you see 'em?"

  "I didn't," Alex admitted. "I saw how they got in, though. I can show you."

  "How do you know it was Jugs?" Seneca asked. "I seriously doubt they could make it past the wall without being seen."

  "At the Celeste," Alex replied. "They had some kind of blanket on one of their horses. There was one just like it hanging over the city wall after the guster hit a few days ago."

  "Sounds like something you should have reported," Seneca said.

  "I found other thi
ngs on the wall, too," Alex explained. "Food, streamers, women's underwear. I thought it was yours. The blanket, I mean."

  Redland chuckled.

  "Well," Seneca said, throwing an annoyed glance at Redland. "Are you saying it was the same blanket?"

  "Norio's house was definitely vandalized," Alex said. "The blanket was near there."

  "We'd better go talk to him, then," Redland said.

  "Can't," Alex told Seneca. "Norio left town right after that happened."

  "How could you know that?" Seneca asked. "I didn't know it."

  "He told me when I met him for rock-climbing practice," Alex answered. "He said his past caught up with him, and he left."

  Seneca frowned at Alex, bothered that there were things happening in the city that he didn't know about. “You think you can make a detour with us to Norio's house?” Seneca asked Redland.

  “I'm at your disposal, colonel.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Seneca, Alex, and Redland made their way towards Norio’s home, with Redland staying a few paces downwind from them the whole way. Alex took the opportunity to tell them all about the events on the Celeste. Both men listened, not interrupting as he spoke. He finished as they arrived at Norio’s house.

  Alex motioned to the opened front door and the three entered slowly. Inside the front porch, the floorboards were rough and dry, with uneven gaps between them. Only a few of them were nailed down, and they squeaked loudly when stepped on. A breeze still blew into the house from the street, so there was little smell in the area they were standing.

  “He doesn't know much about home maintenance, this Norio," Redland commented.

  "I'm surprised," Seneca said. "He's an expert carpenter."

  "I asked him once if he wanted help fixing it up," Alex said. "He said no. He takes pretty good care of the inside, though."

  "That's interesting," Redland replied, and walked into the house.

  "No, wait!" Alex tried to warn him. It was too late. Redland crossed the threshold and went into the living room without asking why.

  Seneca paused and looked at Alex.

  "It smells pretty bad in there," Alex explained. "Bad enough to make you sick."

  "You comin’ in or not?" Redland asked them from the living room, seemingly unfazed.

  Alex entered, slowly at first, followed by Seneca. He took a test sniff and felt his eyes begin to water, just not as bad as they had earlier. "Good thing I left the doors open," he said. “It’s clearing out a little.”

  Seneca waved his hand in front of his nose. "It's still pretty bad."

  "What's it like?" Redland asked. When they raised their eyebrows, he shrugged. "I still can't smell anything."

  "It's hard to describe," Seneca said. "It's a thick odor, something from an animal, I think. But then, I smell you, too."

  The three examined the room. Alex had not gotten a clear look when he ran through earlier. Now he got to see the full damage. What had once been a carefully tended living room was destroyed. The furniture and bookshelves were not just overturned but demolished. Pillows had their stuffing ripped out. Books were torn apart. A row of painted wall dividers that depicted different landscapes around Norio's homeland had been sliced to ribbons.

  "It's a mess alright," Redland noted, "but that doesn't mean Jugs were here. It looks more like vandals did this."

  "I doubt it was vandals," Seneca said, frowning as he looked at the floor. “Maybe not Jugs either.”

  "It had to be,” Alex said. "We know there were Jugs at the Celeste, and we know they were after Norio. These things have to be related."

  "I'll show you what I mean," Seneca said, and pulled Alex to the side of the room. "Do you see anything wrong with the damage here?"

  "Of course," Alex replied. “It’s all wrong.”

  "Look at the floor," Seneca said. "The flooring is high quality timber. It's stained and polished. Cherry wood, right?"

  "Right," Alex said. "So?"

  "Why aren't there any scratches?"

  Alex frowned. He thought about the way the room normally looked. The bookshelves had always been against the wall. The couches in the middle of the room had end tables with sap-burning lamps on them. The wall dividers were normally mounted on heavy bases a few meters from their current location. Each item in the room was badly damaged, while the floor still looked pristine. If someone had entered with the intent to destroy everything, there would be scratches all over the floor when they dragged the furniture around. "I don't know. They picked up the furniture and threw it across the room?"

  "This furniture is too heavy for that," Seneca countered. "They weren't vandalizing the place. They were searching it. Carefully, I think, from the looks of it. See how the lamps are off to the side? That’s what someone would do if they didn’t want to spill the sap inside. Also, the heavy items are arranged closely together, as if to make as much of the floor accessible as they could. Vandals wouldn’t arrange it neatly and then smash it. No, this destruction was an afterthought.”

  Redland stepped forward and examined the scene closer. "Okay, I get it. That makes sense. Why did they change their minds and wreck the place?"

  "Simple," Seneca replied. "They set off the booby trap."

  "The smell?" Alex asked.

  "The smell," Seneca nodded.

  "Then we need to find this trap, don't we?" Redland said. "Care to give us a tour, Alex?"

  Alex led them down a hall where three bedrooms were located. "Norio lived alone. He slept in here," Alex pointed into the first room where a small bed and sparse furnishings were located. Seneca stepped inside, did a quick look around, then came back out.

  "Nothing in there," Seneca said. He met Alex's questioning look and repeated himself. "Nothing interesting, anyway."

  "He converted the second bedroom into a study, and the third into a lab," Alex said, pointing down the hall. He kept his eyes on Seneca, trying to fathom how he'd missed the trap door in the closet.

  Seneca gave him a warning look. Don’t say anything.

  "A lab?" Redland asked.

  "For gardening stuff," Alex replied. "He cross-pollinated different kinds of plants in here, and then moved them to the greenhouse in the back yard when they were mature."

  "The study is the only room where the door's closed," Seneca noted. "I'm willing to bet if there’s a trap, it's in there."

  "Well," Redland sighed, "there's only one way to find out." He walked down to the door and opened it.

  Redland didn't get the door open more than halfway open before a wave of noxious fumes hit him. He started choking, then swore and slammed the door shut again. With eyes watering, he pushed Seneca and Alex back out to the living room, where they all started to choke. They stumbled back onto the street, hacking the whole way.

  Redland spit. "That's where the trap was, sure enough."

  "You smelled that now, didn't you?" Seneca asked gruffly.

  "Sure did. It makes a bog-dog den smell pretty damn appetizing in comparison."

  The three stood there for a few minutes to recover their composure and dry their eyes.

  "We won't learn anything from that room for a long time," Alex lamented.

  "Well, I think we already have," Redland said. "First, I can confirm that Norio is a garden keeper."

  "Really," Alex asked. "You figured that out from the smell?"

  "He's right," Seneca stated. "Norio is a garden keeper. Don't get sarcastic."

  "Norio's been a gardener his whole life," Alex said, stating what he thought was obvious. "Look at all the plants!"

  "Garden keeper," Seneca corrected him. "It's an old Jovian historical reference. Actually, it goes back to ancient Earth legends. It means he's a shadow warrior. They perform secret missions in enemy territory – everything from spying to assassinations."

  "You seem to know a few things about garden keepers," Redland said to Seneca. "And you don't sound one bit surprised."

  "I know a lot about Norio," Seneca admitted.

&nbs
p; "You knew he was a spy," Redland's eyes darkened with anger, "and you let him stay here anyway? How long has he lived here in CC?"

  "Eight years," Seneca said.

  "That's a mighty long damn time if you ask me," Redland put his hand on his hips and stared at Seneca. “What the hell possessed you to allow that?”

  "I had my reasons," Seneca replied flatly.

  "You put this city in danger," Redland shot back. "You put this territory in danger. Hell, you put the entire alliance in a goddamned jeopardized state!"

  "I had my reasons," Seneca repeated.

  "I oughta drag your ass back to the Sheers and have you court-martialed," Redland threatened.

  "Try it," Seneca dared him.

  Redland drummed his fingers on the butt of his pistol.

  "Both of you, shut up!" Alex barked, and got their attention.

  "Look," Alex continued. "You two don't need to be at each other's throats. I just saw two Jovians do the same thing to each other a little while ago, and look where it got them. Now, I don't know what the hell is going on with gardeners or garden keepers, or booby traps, or any of that. I just want to find out who tried to kill my friend and stop them from trying it again."

  "Fine. I've got to check out the Celeste, anyway," Redland growled and stormed out the front door. "You are not welcome to join me, colonel."

  Chapter Eighteen

  "I wasn't expecting that," Alex said.

  "He's always had a temper," Seneca replied. "He gets that way sometimes. He just needs to blow off some steam."

  "You weren't surprised?"

  "No," Seneca told him. "If you know people long enough, you learn to anticipate their reactions."

  "If you knew he'd react that way, why didn't you approach it differently?" Alex asked.

  "Don't worry about it right now," Seneca told him. "We've got other things that need to be dealt with."

  “He seemed pretty serious,” Alex said. “Couldn’t he really arrest you?”

  “We are technically in his jurisdiction,” Seneca acknowledged, “but he doesn’t have the best reputation. I doubt he’d want to risk the kind of trouble he’d get by putting me in shackles.”