Rajani Chronicles II

by Brian S. Converse

  “What about medical supplies?” she asked. “Are there any medical facilities near here?”

  “There was one, but it was completely destroyed,” Zanth said. “There are a few to the north and south, but up until this time, I’ve deemed it too dangerous to go and search their locations.”

  “We can help provide protection to your search teams,” Gianni said. “From what I could see just walking through there, if some of them don’t get medical treatment, they’re going to start dying from infections and sickness.”

  “And we need to start consolidating water and food supplies and rationing what you have,” Kieren said. “The supplies will last longer that way, until we can replenish them.”

  Zanth looked at them a moment, shrewdly. Kieren wasn’t sure if he would appreciate their suggestions until he finally smiled, showing his small, sharp teeth. “I have to admit, when I first saw the two of you, my first thought was there were two more mouths to take care of and that we didn’t have the time or resources to do it. I see that my initial assessment was erroneous. At least, I hope it was, Kieren.”

  “We came here to help,” Gianni said. “It was unfortunate that our ship crashed, but there’s no time to worry about the others right now. Believe me, James and the others can take care of themselves.”

  Kieren was once again surprised at Gianni’s words. She just hoped that the others were all right. It was too large of a job for her and Gianni to accomplish on their own. She was happy that she’d chosen to argue with James about her and Gianni going together on the escape pod. She didn’t know how she would have coped with the almost overwhelming situation she found herself in if she’d been by herself.

  #

  Mazal led James through a maze of shattered buildings, debris, and vehicles, to an older part of Melaanse that seemed to have been relatively untouched in the Krahn attack. The light was growing dim as the sun began to set in the west. Mazal stopped in front of one of the buildings. He put his hand out to James and pushed it toward the ground two times. James wasn’t sure what the gesture meant, until Mazal said “wait,” which James was able to understand. The Jirina wanted him to wait outside while he entered the building.

  “Yes,” James replied, nodding.

  Mazal went inside the building and, only a few moments later, came back out and motioned for James to enter. James was surprised to find that the building still housed Jirina family units. Mazal led him through the building, which James saw was actually more like an apartment complex, with multiple housing units for families of Jirina. They passed doorways full of frightened-looking Jirina males, females, and children.

  Finally, Mazal stopped at a doorway and turned to look at James. “Home,” he said, pointing at the door. He entered and held the door open for James, motioning for him to follow. James entered and saw that it looked like a typical bachelor pad. He smiled to think that things were different, yet still similar enough between Earth culture and an alien culture located light years away that he could have been in a building in Detroit and not have known it.

  The room he entered was furnished simply, with what looked like a couch and small table. There was what looked to be a small stove in one corner. There was a short hallway with a door off to the side and a door straight ahead, where James could see a bed. He assumed the other door was a bathroom. Mazal gave him a short tour of the small dwelling, which confirmed James’s assumption that the other door was indeed a bathroom, and then showed him to the bedroom and motioned toward the bed.

  “Sleep?” Mazal asked, pointing to the bed.

  “No,” James said. “I couldn’t take your bed,” he said in English, though he knew the Jirina couldn’t understand him. He pointed toward the couch in the main room.

  “No,” Mazal said, shaking his head. “Yes,” he said, pointing back to the bed.

  James finally relented, but only because he was tired, sore, and hungry. The bed looked fluffy, and very inviting. He just hoped that the Jirina didn’t have fleas or something similar. “Yes,” James said, and sighed.

  Mazal nodded, copying James’s movement from earlier. He closed the door to the room and left. James waited a moment, wondering if he would be safe there. He looked at the bed and decided he was too tired to care at the moment. He had just entered the first level of sleep when there was a soft knock at his door that brought him swiftly back to consciousness. He slowly rose and made his way to the door. He was surprised to find Mazal waiting apprehensively in the hallway.

  The stout alien had a translating device in one hand and a bottle of a dark liquid in the other. Mazal placed the bottle on the ground next to him and pushed a button on the translating device. He motioned at his throat with his free hand, and then pointed to James. From past experience, James knew that the device needed to hear him speak so that it could calibrate his speech patterns. “My name is James Dempsey,” he said. “I come from the planet Earth, and I’m very happy to meet you.”

  The device beeped once, then spoke in Talondarian Standard. “Analyzing language patterns.” There was a pause, then it spoke again. “Analysis complete. Language log created.” Mazal smiled and picked up the bottle of liquid once again.

  “I have brought you a present, James the Human,” Mazal said, holding the bottle out to James. “I hope that I am not disturbing you, but I have not had the chance to formally thank you for saving my life.” He bowed briefly before motioning toward the translating device. “I was lucky enough to know where one of these devices was kept. It only took me a short while to travel from here to there and back. The fernta was a lucky find.”

  James had to smile. Mazal looked much better than he had when they had first met, but he still looked as tired as James felt. He grasped the neck of the bottle of fernta and clapped Mazal on the shoulder. “Please, come in and have a drink with me. I’m pleased that I can finally speak to you with more than hand gestures and strange facial expressions.” He laughed at the expression of confusion on the Jirina’s face. “Okay,” he said. “So maybe there are still some things that don’t translate well. No matter. Please, sit.” He motioned toward the chair next to his bed. “Don’t tell me you left the safety of the building again just to get this,” James said.

  Mazal placed the translating device on the floor. “I needed the way between us to be cleared, James the Human,” Mazal said, his speech translated in the stuttering flow of words James remembered from first waking up aboard the Tukuli. James knew the device would become smoother as it heard James speak English more. “My getting caught earlier was a bad coincidence. I went needlessly to an area where the Krahn regularly patrol, looking for food. The Krahn do not patrol around here—at least for now.”

  “I meant to ask you if you knew the Sekani that the Krahn had along with you earlier,” James said. “Were you friends?”

  “No,” Mazal answered, frowning. “He was already dead when the Krahn captured me.” He looked around the room, seemingly unsure about being there.

  “Is there something wrong?” James asked.

  “I apologize,” Mazal told him. “It is not our custom to have servants invited in for drinks with the Master.”

  “Where I come from,” James said, “saying something like that would start a fight.”

  Mazal’s eyes grew wide. “If I have offended—”

  “No, no,” James said. “Please, why don’t you get a couple of glasses and then sit, and I’ll explain.” James waited while Mazal left the room and came back a moment later with two crude plastic bowls. Mazal sat on the edge of the bed, though James could see he was still uncomfortable.

  “You see,” James began, “my people were once slaves. It took a long time for them to be freed, and even longer for us to achieve anything close to equality. Even now, the subject is a very sensitive one on my planet. Race relations there are still not what you would call a non-issue. Do you understand?”

  Mazal sat for a moment, thinking. “Why did your Masters free your people?” he finally asked.r />
  “It took a war, followed by years of struggle,” James said. “But it wasn’t like you may think. My ancestors didn’t overthrow our oppressors so much as our oppressors fought amongst themselves over whether it was right to own other human beings.”

  “What?” Mazal asked, looking highly agitated. “Your ancestors were owned by others of your kind?”

  “Yes, it’s complicated, I know,” James said as he poured two bowls of fernta and handed one to Mazal. “On my planet, humans have evolved into different races. Our skin and hair colors and some other cosmetic features differ, but yes, at one time, my race was seen as being second-class, if human at all.”

  “That is…” Mazal began, not finishing his thought. He took a sip of the liquid and grimaced. Or at least it looked like a grimace to James, who was surprised when Mazal followed this up with, “Mmm, that is quite good.”

  It occurred to James that the bovine alien’s smile from earlier may have meant something completely different. This was going to be harder than he thought. He took a small sip of the liquid and felt it burn all the way to his empty stomach. He would have to be careful not to drink too much of the heady liquid. He needed to sleep, not to pass out.

  “It’s very difficult to speak about this,” Mazal told him after a moment of silence. “My people have served the Rajani for thousands of years. It is hard to keep our own identity, our own culture.”

  “I understand,” James said, thinking of the cultures back on Earth that had gone through the same situation. He realized that at least three members of his team were from races that had been discriminated against at one time or another in the past. He’d never thought much about making a big deal about being black. He wanted to be thought of as a man first. But it had come up a few times over the years; a Southern drill sergeant, who thought he was still fighting the ‘war of Northern aggression,’ or a skinhead wannabe he’d busted for killing a young Iraqi-American boy in the name of racial purity. There were even some within his own department who seemed to treat him differently than his white colleagues. But he’d always been able to see past colors to look at the person, a mindset his mother had imparted in him from an early age. He’d learned to deal with the ignorance of humanity out of necessity, but it didn’t mean he would ever like it.

  “We are not fighters,” Mazal said, interrupting James’s contemplation. “We never were. This war we find ourselves in goes against our very nature.”

  “You cannot be afraid of change,” James told him. “I was brought up to believe that things happen for a reason. Perhaps it’s time for the Jirina to assess their place in this world. After this, if we’re capable of defeating the Krahn, maybe it’s time for you to demand your freedom. The Sekani most certainly will, from what I’ve learned from one of them I’ve met.”

  “I must think on this more,” Mazal said, standing again. “I’m happy that you found me, James the Human.”

  “I’m happy that we met as well,” James replied, holding out his hand. “And it’s just James. Please, call me James.”

  Mazal looked at the proffered hand a moment, puzzled, before extending his thick muscular arm. James clasped the Jirina’s thick hand, feeling the strength of it.

  “This is a gesture between friends on my world,” he explained. “I hope that you’ll consider me your friend.”

  “Yes, of course,” Mazal said. “I will speak with you in the morning, my friend, James the…James, but now I think it’s time for us both to rest.” He left the room with another smile that showed his full complement of teeth, but still bowed once he got outside, where James couldn’t see him do it. James took one more sip of the fernta before finally lying down, still fully clothed, and quickly falling into a deep sleep. He didn’t dream.

  Chapter 6

  Yvette was powered up and wielding a sword made out of her dark yellow energy field. She was surrounded by the bodies of dead and dying Krahn. Their blood had formed puddles of crimson around her feet.

  “Okay,” she said, while stabbing another Krahn through the abdomen and hearing it shriek as its intestines were thrust out through its back. It hissed at her, still trying to reach her face with its clawed hands, even as it died. She reared back and punched it in the throat, sending it flailing to the ground, where it was still. “I’m bored. Let’s try something different.”

  She dissolved her sword back into her energy field and stood waiting for the next Krahn to attack. They held back, wary of her now. A large group circled her. She closed her eyes.

  They attacked in unison.

  Long blades shot out from her entire field in every direction, impaling and killing all of the Krahn around her. She opened her eyes and smiled before dissolving the blades and letting the Krahn fall to the ground. It felt good to finally be able to use her powers without fear that she would hurt someone. She hadn’t been able to on the ship, with the others also training in close proximity.

  She took in her surroundings. She hadn’t had a chance to actually just look at the devastation caused by the Krahn, but now that there didn’t seem to be any of them in her immediate vicinity, she stopped and rested next to the escape pod. She stayed powered up, aware that there could still be Krahn snipers around. She saw that she was in what was left of a city district, in what she assumed was Melaanse, but all of the buildings were now piles of rubble. The small park had a fountain filled with the bodies of Rajani and another species that she assumed were Jirina.

  Now that she had a moment to think, she knew that she needed to try to find James and the others. Suddenly, her reverie was broken by the sound of a weapon firing. She saw something ricochet off her energy field, and was glad she’d decided to keep it up. She looked around, unsure where the shot had come from. She saw a muzzle flash as another shot was fired at her. She bent down and picked up one of the Krahn rifles lying on the ground near her feet. It was a crude-looking weapon, with a barrel about three feet long and a short trigger at the top of the handle.

  She had gone hunting with her father on many occasions while growing up in Michigan, so she was familiar with guns, and especially rifles. Her father had taken her deer hunting every fall. It took her a minute to get comfortable with the grip, but the next time a Krahn fired at her, she turned and fired back, seeing dust explode from the stone a few inches from the Krahn’s head.

  The firing back and forth went on for a while. She would run out of ammunition in a weapon and throw it away, picking up another lying near her. She had killed at least two of the Krahn snipers that were firing at her, but there were still at least three more. The Krahn were now too afraid to fight her hand-to-hand. Yvette found a Krahn energy weapon that must have belonged to a higher-ranking warrior, and fired back at them, while their weapons just bounced off of her energy field. She was starting to get frustrated at the pesky Krahn, who still insisted on firing at her.

  A small Krahn ship came in over her position. It was about the size of a large SUV. She could see the pilot through the windows of the cockpit. The pilot started firing. The bullets peppered the area all around her, some hitting her and bouncing off. She dropped the weapon and held her arms out in front of her, palms together and pointing at the ship. A large lance of energy extended from her arms, shooting straight through the ship and the pilot. She spread her hands, and the ship and pilot were torn apart, falling from the sky. She brought the lance back into her field as she slowly bent over and picked up her weapon, leaving debris burning in her wake.

  #

  Janan and David had been walking for nearly an hour, carrying improvised backpacks made from the escape pod’s parachute. It was dusk; the sun was a bleary red orb at their backs. The wind had died down now that it had cooled off, and they had both pulled down the strips of cloth they had tied around their lower faces to help with the choking, blowing sand.

  “Maybe a song will help us on our journey” Janan said after a few minutes of walking in silence.

  “Uh, sure,” David replied, wondering what type
of song Janan would sing. He half expected it to be some strange alien ballad with words and emotions that he couldn’t understand.

  Janan started bellowing in a loud though not unpleasant voice. “She’ll be coming ’round the mountain when she comes!”

  David laughed before joining in. “She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain when she comes!”

  Later on that night, it was dark, and they were still singing, though their voices now sounded a bit hoarse. They were both playing air guitars as they belted out a late eighties hair band song. David had spent at least half an hour explaining to Janan why classic eighties rock was the best music.

  Suddenly, a long, thick tentacle snaked out of the sand and wrapped around Janan’s neck. David didn’t notice—he continued singing and walking at the same pace, putting more and more distance between him and his friend. “C’mon, Janan, sing along.” He stopped, suddenly aware that something wasn’t right. He was the only one still singing. “Janan?” he asked, his smile disappearing.

  He looked around and saw that Janan had been pulled off of his feet and was slowly being dragged toward a large swelling in the sand. He was fighting, but clearly losing the battle. He wasn’t making any noise, unable to take in any air through his constricted throat.

  “Janan!” David screamed. He powered up and, in a blur, raced to Janan’s side. He tried to pry the tentacle away from Janan’s neck. The thing felt like a large muscle covered in sandpaper. Janan’s eyes were beginning to bulge. David couldn’t budge the tentacle, even with the augmented strength that the Johar Stone afforded him. He could feel the muscle tighten as it slowly began to pull his friend beneath the sand.

  If only I had some type of weapon, he thought, desperately. Then he thought of his time in the Boy Scouts. It had never really appealed to him, but his father had always insisted that it would build character. He didn’t earn many badges, but one that he did earn was for starting a fire without matches. It was all about friction.