“James?” a voice said, bringing him out of his reverie. He turned to see Kieren standing in the doorway of his room.
“Are we ready?” he asked, forcing his mind back to the task at hand.
“Not yet,” Kieren said. “I was just walking by and saw you. You looked a thousand miles away. Do you want to talk?”
“Oh, you know,” he replied, smiling. “Same old stuff. Relations between the juniors, strategy for this battle and the whole war, supplies and food for all of them…”
Gianni, of course, had been the one who had coined the phrase ‘juniors’ for the three races on Rajan—the Jirina, Rajani, and Sekani, JRS. James had been adamant that he never use the somewhat derogatory term in front of them, but found himself using it instead of having to say all of the species’ names over and over again.
“Anything to do with the fact that we haven’t heard any word of Yvette yet?” Kieren asked, sitting down on an oversize chair across from him.
He had to admit, she was smarter than he had first given her credit for on the Tukuli. He didn’t think he would’ve done as well as he had getting all of the juniors together if it hadn’t been for her and her valuable translation power, not to mention her skills as an ambassador and liaison to the Sekani. “Am I that transparent?” he asked, running a hand over his hair. He still wasn’t used to its length at times.
“No,” she said, smiling. “I just know that if your positions were reversed, she’d probably be going out of her mind worrying about you.”
“Yvette?” James asked, surprised. “Nah, she’s a pretty cool customer. No, she’d be doing everything in her power to win this fight and go home.”
“All I know,” Kieren said, “is that she really cares for you. I promised I wouldn’t say anything to you, but I figure I’ll deal with the consequences after she shows up.”
“Well,” James said, “then I don’t feel so bad about my thoughts of abandoning this whole thing and looking for her.”
“If you do,” Kieren said, “just know that Gianni and I would understand. And I, for one, would come with you.”
“And leave me with this crew?” Gianni said from the doorway. “Not on your life.”
“Ha,” James replied. “You guys know I would never actually do that, right?”
“It’s a good thing,” Gianni said. “Because I think this whole damn coalition would fall apart without us. The Rajani and Sekani are arguing about who gets to lead this little party that you’ve planned.”
“I thought we settled this already,” James said, standing up and stretching.
“Then it needs to be settled again,” Gianni said, smiling mischievously.
“Enjoying yourself?” James asked as he walked out the door.
“Immensely,” Gianni said, crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against the doorjamb. Kieren just rolled her eyes at him as she followed James out of the room.
#
It was two days before Belani finally contacted Fajel. Fajel agreed to meet the other two members of the strike team just after dark. He went and said his goodbyes to his parents. His mother cried, as he knew she would. His father, who up until then had remained stoic and had said nothing about Fajel joining the resistance, had grabbed his son in a fierce hug and told him to be brave, and then he had cried as well, which, in turn, had made Fajel cry. It was an emotional release for the young Jirina, who hadn’t known if his parents would look down at him for choosing to fight until that very moment. Now, as he headed to the rendezvous point, he felt that he could at least handle his fear, which had seemed to grow as the time passed since the last meeting at the Elder’s house.
Fajel wished that they didn’t have to keep meeting after dark. Unlike the Rajani and Sekani—especially the Sekani, who seemed to see just as well in the dark as in the light—the Jirina’s eyes were not adapted for night vision. Luckily for him, they were meeting in a particular section of the city that he was very familiar with from before the war. He eventually made it to the corner of a park that he used to help his father maintain. It almost made him cry again to see the furrows in the ground from the landing of Krahn ships and the rubble from destroyed buildings where once there were trees and flowers and a small pond with a fountain. Dead things floated in the water now, and the fountain was just a large chunk of metal sitting among them.
He found Rachal sitting with his back propped against one of the trees that had been knocked over, its roots now sticking out like an outstretched skeletal hand. “’Bout time you got here,” the Rajani said, closing his eyes again when he saw who was approaching. “We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
“Where’s Belani?” Fajel asked, looking out over the top of the tree trunk before sitting down next to the Rajani. The night was warm, but a cool breeze blew among the dead and dying trees. It would soon be harvesting time, and too soon after that, the harsh winds and rains would descend on the city as the rainy season began.
“I’m right behind you,” came Belani’s voice from close to his left ear. Fajel jumped and turned to see Belani smiling at him. Rachal chuckled, and Fajel felt his face grow warm in embarrassment. He was really beginning to dislike the Sekani, who seemed to relish pointing out his shortcomings.
“Are you ready to go?” Belani asked. “We need to pick up some supplies before we leave.” He led them to a small utility building, and they found two small packs and one large one, as well as two weapons that looked like they had been confiscated from the Krahn at some earlier point.
Rachal and Belani each grabbed a small pack and a weapon, and then helped Fajel heave the large pack onto his broad shoulders. He was disappointed that he didn’t get a weapon as well, but Belani explained that there was a shortage, and that each team only received one or two at the most.
“Besides,” Belani added, “you wouldn’t know what to do with one anyways. It wouldn’t do us any good if you accidentally shot yourself or one of us.”
Fajel thought this was probably true, but it still didn’t make him very happy being treated as a mere beast of burden. They finally set off southward, making their way cautiously amongst the streets and alleyways, always on the lookout for Krahn patrols. Surprisingly, they only saw one small group of Krahn that entire night, where before, there had been large groups in every part of the city.
“The resistance has made them cautious,” Rachal said when Fajel had pointed it out to him. “Fearful for their own rotten hides. Good. More scared they are, the less trouble we’ll have trying to avoid them.”
They’d made their way through most of the northern part of the city when Belani called a halt and they rested in the corner of what used to be a small clothing store. It was getting close to daybreak. Fajel was moving from hungry to starving quickly. He set down his pack and opened it up, hopeful that Belani had packed some food for their trip. He was alarmed to find that he had been lugging around construction blasting devices.
“What did you think we’d be using to blow up the Krahn ships?” Rachal asked.
Fajel sat down heavily, suddenly weak in the knees at the thought that he’d been carrying a large number of explosives for the last few hours and hadn’t even known it. He felt his hunger go away as it was replaced by a sick feeling in his stomach.
“Fajel?” Rachal asked, actually looking concerned.
Fajel didn’t answer; he was still running the situation over in his mind. Maybe I’m not ready for this, he thought. As if echoing his thoughts, Belani sat down next to him. “Listen,” the Sekani said. “If you think you can’t handle this mission, we can easily go on without you. We don’t need the dead weight.”
“Now what kind of talking is that?” Rachal asked, angry now. “We’re all afraid, and if you’re not, then you’re just plain stupid. This is a fool’s mission to begin with. We’ll probably all die, so whether it’s because we’re blown up by our own explosives, or because we get caught by the Krahn, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that Fajel had the
courage to come along and try to help in this fight, foolish as it is.” He snorted and was silent, now checking his weapon.
Belani stood up. “You’re right about one thing. We are all fools if we think we can win this war.” He walked away, leaving Fajel and Rachal together. By now the sun was breaking over the horizon, and streaks of sunlight were piercing through the gloom inside the building.
“Thank you,” Fajel said quietly.
“Was nothing,” Rachal replied, placing his gun on the ground beside him. He looked up at Fajel and smiled. “My father always told me that you never really know someone until you drink with them. I never really believed him; always thought it was an excuse for him to get soused on regular occasions.” He laughed at this before growing serious again. “But I can see his point now,” he continued. “You’re a good kid, Fajel. No one can deny your dedication to this fight, which is more than I can say for some others.” He pointed the way Belani had walked out and rolled his eyes. “But what I said earlier is the truth,” he said, rummaging around now in his pack. “We’ll probably all die on this mission, and I would hate to think that we did it for nothing, but there isn’t anything I can do about that. I would hate more to see a youngling like yourself die. So if you were to leave now, go back to your family, and live to fight another day, then that’s all right. I wouldn’t think any less of you.”
Fajel sat and thought for a moment. He debated with himself, looking down at the ground around him. He saw all of the various small pieces of rubble and trash that had once been parts of buildings and vehicles and everyday objects that they had all taken for granted, now just strewn about and forgotten. He didn’t think he would be able to live with himself if he didn’t fight to give others the chance to rebuild those things. He looked up at Rachal, who had pulled a protein bar out of his pack and was chewing on it thoughtfully. “If I stay,” he said, smiling, “are you going to share your food with me?”
Rachal snorted and reached into his pack. He threw one of the pre-wrapped bars to Fajel. “Only because you get to share in the misery of eating it,” he said.
Just then, Belani walked in. “We stay here for the day. Get some sleep if you can. We should be there by tomorrow morning.”
#
The Krahn struck the house just after daybreak. Their informant had told them to expect little resistance, and he was correct. There were only a few Sekani and a Jirina in the house, and they were poorly armed. The Krahn numbered twenty, and they easily overpowered the defenders. The lone Jirina was shot and killed outright; the Krahn had no use for him. The Sekani were captured and tied together in a line for transporting. They would be sent to Toruq at Nestbase One for questioning, and then slaughtered for their meat.
The Krahn searched the basement, where their informant had told them he’d met with others for a secret mission, but all they found was a pointing stick and an empty screen.
Chapter 13
Bhakat had grown to respect the Human female named Yvette in the few days that they’d been living at the medical clinic. She was a good fighter; merciless in her dealings with the Krahn, and relentless in her desire to search for the Human male named Dempsey, though Bhakat and David had managed so far to talk her into staying with them, at least until Rauphangelaa was able to walk. He marveled at her skill in dispatching any Krahn they came in contact with as they patrolled around the medical facility, while Rauphangelaa recuperated from his injuries. He had not chosen a mate yet. He was still a Pledge and not yet allowed to breed, but he found it difficult to believe that any Rajani female would be as dedicated to him as Yvette was to James, and the two Humans were not even officially paired.
He knew that depending on how things went, he might never have a chance to pair bond. It was yet another reason to hate the Krahn. He decided that he would add it to his already lengthy list. Bhakat and Yvette sat together most days as she taught him the Earth language called English. He’d been surprised to learn that there were so many different languages on her home planet. Most planets in the Alliance had two or three languages at most. Societies were allowed to have their own languages, but it was Alliance law that all planets taught Talondarian Standard, the official language of the Alliance.
The Human male, David, seemed just the opposite of Yvette. He was becoming more and more distant as the days wore on, with no sign of Janan. Bhakat prayed that his Sekani friend was still alive and well, but he knew the reality of the situation. More than likely, Janan was already dead. Another item for the list, he thought. He contemplated his friend’s fate as he checked on his Master. Rauphangelaa had been acting differently toward him ever since he’d first woken up and discovered that his Pledge had implanted himself with a Johar Stone. Bhakat didn’t blame him. He’d broken the most important law on Rajan. He wouldn’t expect Rauphangelaa to just accept it, even if it had saved his life.
Bhakat ran a scanner over Rauphangelaa’s broken leg. It was healing well, but he knew that his Master wouldn’t be able to walk for at least another few days. His ribs would be sore for even longer, but wouldn’t hinder his mobility, at least, though it would hurt him to walk too much for a while longer. He also wasn’t experiencing any more concussion symptoms, which was a good sign. Bhakat had feared the worst when he’d woken after the Tukuli crashed to see his Master lying on the floor of the bridge, his safety harness broken. Rauphangelaa had been thrown hard into the pilot’s control panel during the crash. But it looked like he would make a full recovery, eventually. It was just about time to bring him out of the healing stasis that Bhakat had placed him in when they’d arrived at the facility.
#
Janan had made up his mind. He hadn’t returned to Rajan just to be captured as soon as he got back. He waited patiently, knowing that his daily feeding would occur soon. Because it was always dark in his cell, he wasn’t sure what time they fed him. But his stomach always let him know when it was supposed to be time to eat, despite the fact he was in a perpetual state of hunger. He didn’t know what he was going to do yet; he would just have to act if the chance presented itself. It was three more feedings before his Krahn guard came to his cell and told him that Toruq wanted to see him.
“I…don’t think I can walk,” Janan whispered hoarsely when the guard opened his cell door. In his current state, he felt like he wasn’t far from the truth. He felt considerably weakened from the lack of food and clean water, and his throat still hurt most of the time.
“Get up,” the guard said in Krannish. “I can’t understand what you’re saying, you filthy beast.”
Janan stayed where he was, sitting on the floor and moaning softly. The guard walked over and grabbed him by the hair on the top of his head.
“I said, get up!” the guard yelled, pulling on his hair and practically lifting him off the ground, painfully.
Janan stood quickly, and as the guard let him go, he jumped up onto the Krahn’s chest and used the only weapon he had left. He bit the guard’s throat as hard as he could, and felt his mouth fill with the guard’s blood and tasted the sickly sweet flavor of it. He felt it overflow the confines of his mouth and spill down his chin. But he didn’t let up, not even when the guard raked its claws across his abdomen, opening deep gashes and knocking the wind out of him. He kept chewing, feeling the screaming guard stumbling around the cell and bouncing off the walls. With a last, straining effort, the guard pulled him off. Janan felt the guard’s throat part, and a spurt of blood splashed across his face.
Janan landed on the floor of the cell and knelt there, retching from the taste of the guard’s blood and trying to regain his breath. He hardly paid any attention as the guard staggered toward him, blood still spurting from the hole in its neck, and then fell to its knees. He looked at the guard dispassionately. The Krahn was trying to speak, but only accomplished making more blood come out of its mouth. “I’m sorry,” Janan said. “I can’t understand what you’re saying right now, either.” He spit a gob of blood in the guard’s face.
The
guard gave one last gurgle before falling over onto its side into the rapidly congealing puddle of its own blood. Janan knelt there a moment before going to the guard’s body. The Krahn wasn’t armed. Janan had looked before he attacked the guard, and he hadn’t seen a weapon. If the guard had a knife accessible on its belt, Janan wouldn’t have taken the chance of attacking it without a real weapon of his own. The guard could have easily stabbed him and ended his bid for freedom quickly. Janan knew that his best chance was surprise and staying away from the Krahn’s sharp teeth. As it was, the gashes in his stomach felt like they were on fire, but he didn’t think he was losing too much blood from them.
When his breathing had returned to normal, Janan stood and slowly left his cell, listening for the slightest sound that could indicate another guard had heard the first one’s screams, however short they had lasted. The only thing he heard was the skittering sounds of the masagas, and the now-familiar sound of water dripping faintly. He walked toward the door, which had been left open by the dead guard. At the doorway, he let his eyes adjust to the brighter light spilling down the set of stairs. He walked out of the basement and quickly made his way up the stairs, stopping once more to listen for the sound of guards. Staying close to the wall, he slowly made his way to what used to be the great room within the former Rajani Elder house. He passed a hallway and walked to a window that had been covered by a large piece of thick cloth. He moved the cloth aside and looked out to see a large yard with smaller buildings surrounding it. He could see dozens of Krahn walking across the yard. He wouldn’t be able to escape that way.
Just then, he heard a door open and footsteps. He quickly headed back toward the stairs. The footsteps were growing louder, so Janan turned down the hallway he had passed earlier. He walked by a few doors, checking the handles on each one, but they were all locked. Probably storage rooms or closets, he assumed.
Rajani Chronicles II Page 17