Free Trader Complete Omnibus

by Craig Martelle

  Darius had already surrendered. He was pliable. “Like I said, I only joined them a little while ago, and although they talked of the big hauls, I didn’t see anything. We scavenged off the land. You were the first target that we saw since I joined.”

  Caleb thought as much, figuring the young man had no luck. The fisherman looked to his fellow villager from Trent, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

  “Fine! I’ll see if Tom can use an assistant” Zeller replied before asking Arnie to pick up the pace. She was tired of being on the road, even more so because of the attack.

  “That’s settled. We won’t mention your role as a raider as long as you promise us that you will steer clear of thieving, and if you hear of anyone thinking that this is a good career choice, you need to let the Elders know so that it can be stopped before anyone else gets hurt. If you lie, Arnie will know. He’s probably already been through your mind…” Caleb knew that Arnie wasn’t able to read minds like a Hillcat could. The Aurochs was able to talk with the human he was joined with and that was it, but Darius didn’t know that.

  “I will, honestly, I will. You know that, don’t you, Arnie?” the man pleaded.

  Caleb raised his eyebrows and looked suspiciously at the younger man.

  “Maybe we should drop you off right here. How long do you think you’ll survive with a broken arm?” Caleb taunted.

  “I’ll work hard, I promise. It sucks out here!” Darius looked down and started to cry. The big fisherman had his answer. And if they needed further confirmation, one of the recently arrived Hillcats that had bonded with Tom could and probably would check. Barely more than a kitten, he could still look into the man’s mind and see if he was being honest. Caleb was satisfied with that and the fact that Zeller would tell Tom the truth of how Darius came to be his new apprentice.

  An apprentice blacksmith with a broken arm? That would be a tough sell, but who better than Free Trader Zeller to make the pitch?

  River Crook

  Young Tom knew Zeller was coming because his bonded Hillcat told him. Neeson was large, even for a Hillcat, but that had made him overconfident. He’d tangled with a cold-water croc and come out on the losing end. His back leg had been injured and now the ‘cat walked with a severe limp. Neeson could no longer run fast enough to catch most prey and although he could still climb trees, he had trouble getting down. His activity level was low and he was starting to get fat, but Young Tom kept him close and took good care of his new best friend.

  When the wagon rolled into the burgeoning village, Tom was there, ready to lift his mate down and carry her home, but Zeller stopped him with a half-smile.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, thinking it was something he’d done. He, like Braden, had partnered with a strong woman from Trent, one who ensured that no one person dominated the relationship. Women from Trent were quick to express their dismay, and equally quick to express their appreciation. Tom liked it all and knew how empty life could be without it.

  “We have company. Micah’s dad is with me, and he’s been injured.” Tom bellowed for someone and an old man hobbled into the town’s main square carrying a large pouch. “And Arnie’s been injured, too.” Tom lifted Zeller down so she could show him, all thoughts of an injured human taking second place to his mate’s Aurochs partner.

  The numbweed had done its job and the wound had scabbed over, and Arnie told them that he felt fine. Tom waved the old man toward the back of the wagon while he and Zeller held each other, absentmindedly stroking Arnie’s nose as he nuzzled them back.

  Caleb had dropped the wagon’s gate and was sitting with his legs dangling. Behind him, Darius cowered, fearful of facing the villagers from River Crook.

  The old man ignored everything except the two arrow wounds in Caleb’s leg. The healer produced a small knife and cut the pants leg, exposing the two swollen, purplish holes. He used a rough plant to scrub the wounds.

  Caleb howled in pain, squeezing the side of the wagon hard enough that he threatened to snap the material. Zeller and Tom joined him to provide moral support as the old man continued his ministrations. He poured water, scrubbed some more, and then finished cleaning. He held numbweed on the wounds until he heard the big fisherman’s sigh of relief, then the old man sewed the holes closed. He patted additional numbweed on the sutures, then nodded once, packed his things, and walked away.

  “I guess I’ll be fine,” the fisherman said with a brief smile. “Hi. I’m Caleb.” He held out his hand, and the blacksmith took it, they shook, heartily as two big men did. The large ‘cat worked his way between Zeller and Tom, looking up at the fisherman.

  “Well, hello! Who’s this pretty kitty?” Caleb said, extending his ongoing battle of wills with the Hillcats.

  ‘Humans are so droll,’ the ‘cat replied over the mindlink. ‘The stupid one trying to hide is afraid. He will do as he’s told.’ With that, Neeson strutted away, as much as his injured leg allowed.

  The big fisherman grunted as Tom helped him from the wagon. “Come on, Darius. We have our confirmation that you weren’t lying to us. Now, go forth and do no evil,” Caleb said without looking at the young man.

  “Hold on there,” Zeller started. “Come with us, you have work to do while I get reacquainted with my man.” Zeller crooked a finger at Darius. He crawled from the wagon, standing with his head bowed.

  “They call you Darius,” Tom told him. “You were here recently. How did you come to be in the company of such shady Free Traders?” he asked, earning himself a punch in the stomach from his partner.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone with them,” was all Darius said.

  “Raiders,” Zeller added, clenching her jaw, instantly angry at the thought.

  “So, that’s what brings you back? I don’t see the others.” Tom looked to Zeller. She drew one finger across her throat, then held up three more. “We won’t talk about that. No one else needs to know. You now have a new life as my apprentice. I hope you don’t mind hard work.” The blacksmith slapped the smaller man on the back, hard enough almost to knock him down. Tom and Zeller walked arm in arm toward the forge. Caleb limped after them with Darius holding his head high as he helped the fisherman.

  Less than seven turns later, Zeller and Arnie made a quick trip to Westerly and the hills overlooking White Beach to deliver Caleb and the fishing equipment. Even though he was not completely healed, he told them that the sooner he got started, the sooner he’d be able to go home to Mattie.

  The Beach

  A large man cast into the surf of the Western Ocean, trying for Caleb’s approval, the master fisherman, come all the way from the eastern shore to teach the newcomers how to harvest the sea’s bounty.

  “If you only had boats, we could do some real fishing, but this’ll do. For now, anyway,” the older fisherman told the man casting. “Let out more line.” The coiled heavy fishing line lay at the man’s feet. He pulled a handful and fed it through the eyes of his pole toward the ocean.

  The line was yanked across his fingers, leaving a deep gash. He almost dropped the pole.

  “There you go! Wrap the line around the stop and hold on. Your first fish looks like it’s going to be a whopper!” Caleb exclaimed. They’d been fishing for two days and had donated a great deal of bait to the underwater denizens, but had yet to bring one ashore.

  The transplant from the village of Westerly, on the plains east of White Beach, did his best to maintain his composure as he struggled with the pole. At times during the battle, he thought the fish was winning as it pulled him toward the surf.

  “I better get the gaff. We don’t want to lose this one. C’mon, let him know who’s in charge! Drag that slimy beast in here and let me jab this iron hook through his gills. Come on, now, pull him in!” Caleb encouraged the new fisherman as he tried to position himself in the surf, but not too deep, just in case their fish turned out to be a shark. He continued to guide the man, who worked his way back and forth along the beach while he continued to wrestl
e with the pole. Caleb grimaced as the salt water stung the arrow wounds in his leg. They were healing, but he was still miffed at how much they hurt.

  The tip drooped as the man barely had enough strength in his arms to hold the pole upright.

  “I can see it!” Caleb cried aloud. “It’s as big as a boat. Now’s the time, laddie, pull with all you’ve got.” He moved thigh-deep in the surf, keeping his legs spread to give himself leverage to drive the gaff home and help his student bring the monster ashore.

  Caleb had never seen such a fish. It was flat, with its eyes on the black and green mottled top. Underneath, it was all white. A wide tail thrashed the water as the great fish decided it didn’t want to come ashore. The fisherman was pulled to his knees and almost lost the pole. With a monumental effort, Caleb jumped into the surf and drove the spear tip of the gaff between the creatures eyes. The old fisherman landed on the fish, slid off, and toppled into the ocean.

  He sputtered as he lunged back to his feet, regaining his grip on the gaff. He pulled it and expertly twisted the hook-end underneath the fish. Caleb stood upright, pulling the gaff into the creature’s head, then backed out of the surf, dragging the massive fish with him.

  He pulled until it was on the dry sand above the lightly rolling surf. The fisherman in training was on his hands and knees, panting like a dog as he looked sideways at his catch. The pole lay forgotten in the sand before him. Caleb had collapsed in the sand, his injury aching from the salt water. The weight of the fish challenged him, but in a good way. He sat next to the monster, trying to catch his breath.

  He looked at the man they called Digger and grinned. “No greater fish has ever been caught, my friend!” Caleb said. When he finally stood, he reveled at the great creature before him. “Tonight, we feast!”

  Caleb pulled a knife and started cleaning the fish, right there on the beach. He found the meat on the flat top to be thick. He cut numerous steaks and piled them on the inverted skin he’d used to cover the sand. Then he flipped the fish and started on the bottom side.

  “We’ll need a proper fish cleaning station and a cart to move sea monsters like this,” Caleb quipped, looking at the other man who was now sitting in the sand, his arms hanging uselessly. “Give us a hand. It’s going to take all we’ve got and then some to move this where we can cook a little for now and smoke the rest for later.” Digger finally stood, wobbly and weak, but he was standing.

  “Let’s get to it, then, but, I’m pretty sure I’m done fishing for the day,” he chuckled.

  “What?” Caleb exclaimed. “Just when they started to bite, too…” They laughed together as the surf behind them started to churn. The two men didn’t notice anything until they heard the sound of grinding sand and water dripping. An ancients’ oceangoing vehicle crawled up the sand behind them, stopped, and the front started to open.

  Caleb wanted to run, but his body wouldn’t move. Digger stood upright, mesmerized by the sight of the metal monster. A large flat panel at the front dropped into the sand. The inside contained smaller metal creatures of various designs, some rolling from the vehicle while others hovered as the Tortoid did. One, humanoid in shape, but bulkier and squatter, approached Caleb and Digger and used its metal arms to grab them by their hands and lead them back to the vehicle. It dragged them through the fresh fish, ruining the day’s work.

  What a shame! Caleb thought to himself, distracted from the plight of his abduction by the loss of the what he considered the greatest catch ever. I really wanted to know what that fish tasted like, were his last thoughts as he drifted toward nothingness.

  Bad News

  ‘Good afternoon, Braden!’ Holly said pleasantly via Braden’s neural implant. ‘If I may have a word, in person, I would really appreciate it, and alone, if that’s okay?’

  Braden stood by the oasis with Micah, their children, and a mass of their friends representing the other intelligent species on Planet Vii. Ax and ‘Tesh were chasing Klytus and Shauna, their half-Hillcat bonded partners. The ‘cats easily avoided the screaming children as other Hillcats, full bloods from the north, lounged lazily in the sun. Bounder and Gray Strider were with them, visiting from the nearby Wolfoid town of Livestel.

  The Hawkoids, Skirill and Zyena, perched in a tree above the lake. They and Aadi, First Master of the Tortoise Consortium, were the only original companions who claimed that they lived full time at New Sanctuary, but the others visited often enough that they could have called it home.

  ‘Sounds dire, Holly. I’ll be right down,’ Braden replied, not worried. The Artificial Intelligence known as Holly was stretching his digital legs, seemingly in an effort to become more human in how he was perceived by the others. He often practiced on Braden.

  Since their return from the north these past three moons, things had been going very well. Trade was accelerating with Free Traders joining the routes as soon as Old Tom could build another wagon. With each new one, new Free Traders hit the road.

  “Holly wants to see me for some reason,” he told Micah out loud. “I won’t be gone long.” He looked at the menagerie on the small beach around the lake. He spotted the Golden Warrior among some of the newcomers with Treetis, his young protégé, attached to his hip. Braden tried to get the ‘cat’s attention, but stopped when he realized that G-War probably already knew that he was going. The ‘cat didn’t like anything underground and wouldn’t go unless it was an emergency, then he’d complain the entire time.

  Braden walked alone to the elevator building, where he waited patiently as a couple survivors from Cygnus VI exited and headed somewhere. They generally didn’t like being in the sunlight and ventured out infrequently and only for short periods of time.

  When Braden walked from the elevator into the New Command Center, he could sense the tension. Holly instantly appeared and escorted Braden to the wall covered with monitors. With a nod, nine of them combined to show a single video, taken by one of the satellites orbiting the planet, zoomed in to show a higher level of detail.

  It was White Beach. Braden had been there before. He knew that Caleb was there, teaching new transplants how to fish.

  He watched as the surf turned white and a vehicle crawled out. Two dots on the beach were escorted into it. Braden saw dots leaving the vehicle and assumed they were the people gathering Bots. Holly sped up the video showing the Bots returning with other humans in tow. The vehicle then slowly retreated into the surf and disappeared.

  Braden stood in silence while the others working in the Command Center waited.

  “Caleb?” he finally asked.

  “We believe so,” Holly answered softly.

  ‘Micah, you better get down here,’ Braden told his mate over their mindlink. ‘The so-called sea monster is back and it’s taken your father into the Western Ocean.’

  Without answering, Micah started running. She intercepted Heloysis and Luciana to ask the two Rabbits to watch the children, something they did as a matter of course whenever the toddlers were at New Sanctuary.

  Micah tore through the elevator doors and into the darkened spaces of the New Command Center, where Holly replayed the video for her. Braden hugged her as she stood motionless. Her face tightened as she watched the vehicle disappear into the ocean.

  “Holly, last time you were able to talk with the vehicle. Why didn’t you do anything?” she asked accusingly.

  “They have changed their access and I was unable to penetrate the system before they were gone. I shall review my copies of the attempt and see where I can improve for next time.”

  She nodded as a way to apologize to Holly for thinking he didn’t do what he could to prevent her father’s abduction. The AI had always been there for her and Braden through the best and worst of times. Even though she could see he was a projection, to her, Holly was real. “We need to go there, Holly, to White Beach. Get ourselves captured and go under the sea where we can find all the people, find my father, and rescue them.”

  “I might caution against that,” Ho
lly started, using the human expression he found to be most tactful when suggesting a course of action different from what Braden or Micah was leaning toward. “If the Bots take you, they will take all your equipment. Once in the undersea facility, you may not have access to what you need in order to escape. The facility could be under two thousand meters of water, that’s twice as high as the decks on the Traveler. You would have no way to get to the surface and be trapped there with the other survivors, assuming they are all still alive.”

  Braden rolled his eyes at Holly, who grimaced when he realized what he’d just said. Micah ignored them both as she tried to think through other options to rescue her father. At Micah’s subtle but firm request, he’d gone to White Beach to teach the new settlers how to fish. She felt like it was her fault and that it was her responsibility to get him back. Micah did not want to tell her mother, as Mattie would insist on joining them in their search.

  “Options, Holly,” Micah commanded, sounding presidential as she squinted at the images on the various monitors filling one whole wall of the New Commander Center.

  “I am currently working on bringing a self-sustaining floating laboratory close enough to shore that you will be able to climb on board. I believe the ship will be able to take you where you need to go. There should be two mini-submarines on board. If those are unavailable, then we’ll try to use the underwater communications on board the Warden to talk with the undersea facility. Proximity will be important if that course of action is to have any chance of success.”

  “How long have you had control over this Warden?” Braden asked, miffed that Holly hadn’t told them about an important piece of Old Tech that was floating around the Western Ocean.