Ries once again felt his emotions take a complete turn, knowing where the conversation was headed. His amazement was again turned to dread.
“It’s your task,” Ne said, “to go to Rajan and find this Sekani contact, and make sure he is either captured or killed. Doesn’t really matter which, since he’ll be dead soon enough. Unfortunately, T’van never wrote down the contact’s real name. All we’ve been able to find was a code name. Also, you must determine what the Rajani know about the plot, if anything. I don’t have to tell you what would happen if they discovered that they are not on their original home planet. Can’t have them looking for a planet that’s under strict Alliance quarantine. Do you understand your mission?” Before Ries could answer, Ne broke in once again. “Oh, and if you happen to run into T’van on your journey, be sure to kill him. And make sure it’s painful.”
“Yes, sir,” Ries said.
“I’ve put in a request for a ship, and it should be waiting for you at the docking station. You are to leave immediately. That is all,” Ne said. “You’re dismissed. I expect a full report of your success when your mission is complete.”
Ries stood. “I understand,” he said, though he couldn’t tell at that point if Ne was even listening anymore. He slowly walked from the room, wondering how he was going to find one single Sekani in the middle of a war zone.
#
Kieren had just returned from sitting in on school for the young Sekani males. She’d been surprised to find that male and female Sekani were taught separately. While the males were taught how to be pilots and work in various other industries, the females were mostly taught to perform more menial jobs, like cooking and cleaning. At first Kieren was shocked at the inequality, but then she learned more about the Sekani culture. Because of the social nature of the family units, the females were expected to work half of the time watching and teaching the young, and cooking for the whole unit. They would take turns working at the Sekani dwellings and working for the Rajani.
While it might not look ideal to a modern American woman, the system had worked fine for the Sekani. Now, though, Zanth had been attempting to change the culture. Since they were no longer beholden to the Rajani, he was trying to open up the possibilities for females, even going so far as to suggest that male and female young should be taught the same subjects together. This, of course, had been met with some resistance from both male and females of the species, from what Zanth had told her. Kieren knew that if change was to happen, it would probably happen slowly, but she was encouraged to see it happening at all.
She had just sat down in her room with a protein bar and a bottle of water when there was a knock on her door. She looked longingly at the protein bar before sighing and standing up. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be eating anytime soon. She opened her door to find a young Sekani female whom she hadn’t met before.
“The Rajani Elder Rauphangelaa is at the front gate,” the Sekani said quickly, almost tripping over her words in her haste to get them out of her mouth. “He said he needs to speak to you.”
Kieren smiled at her. “Thank you. What’s your name?” she asked as she closed her door behind her.
“My name is Kalen,” the Sekani answered, smiling shyly up at her.
“I’m glad to meet you, Kalen,” Kieren said.
“I’m happy to meet you, too,” Kalen said. “Is it true you can fly?” she blurted out excitedly.
“Yes,” Kieren said. “Maybe I can take you up for a flight sometime, if this war ever ends.”
The young Sekani’s eyes grew wide, and she smiled for a moment before the smile disappeared and was replaced by a sad look. “I don’t think my father would let me,” she finally said.
“What’s your father’s name?” Kieren asked. “Maybe I can talk to him about it.”
“Golena,” Kalen answered. “But he’s not here right now.” She looked around dramatically and then whispered. “He was sent on a mission for Zanth.”
“Well, when he comes back, I’ll definitely talk to him about it,” Kieren said. They had almost made it to the gate by then.
“Really?” Kalen said, looking up at her with wide eyes.
“Promise,” Kieren said.
Kalen smiled wide and waved as she ran off, probably to tell her friends, Kieren assumed. She smiled as she finally arrived at the gate. She could see Rauph standing patiently on the other side, his arms crossed in front of him as he surveyed the Sekani compound.
“Hello, Rauphangelaa,” she said, walking through the now-open iron gate and past the Sekani guards.
“Hello, Miss Grey,” he said, smiling at her. “How have you been?”
“Busy,” she said. “The Sekani were in pretty rough shape when we arrived. But they’re doing much better now.”
“So I’ve heard,” he said. “This is part of the reason I’m here, actually.”
“Oh?” she asked, wondering what he was getting at.
“Yes,” he said, folding his hands before him nervously. “I was wondering. That is, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”
#
James wasn’t sure what to expect when he went to visit Mazal in what had essentially become the Jirina district of Melaanse. The three species on Rajan had been separated by the Krahn and by necessity. The Krahn had no interest in the Jirina, knowing that they had neither the will nor the power to threaten them. He hadn’t been back since first arriving on Rajan. He thought back to that time; it felt like it had been so long, though he realized that he and the others had only been on Rajan for a little over three months.
The first thing he noticed was that the streets were still full of debris, and in some cases, there were transport vehicles with the bodies still inside of them. Most of the Jirina were still too scared to leave their dwellings. James would have to speak to Mazal about it. They had better take care of the burned-out transport vehicles that had dead in them, at least. There was too great a chance of disease breaking out if the corpses were just left to rot. As James walked down the street that led to Mazal’s place, he passed buildings and could see Jirina peeking out of the windows or from doors that were open just a few inches. And everywhere he walked, the Jirina smiled and waved at him.
He’d gathered a crowd by the time he reached Mazal’s building. They began to chant his name, “James the Human! James the Human!” James wondered if he shouldn’t have been a little more discreet. Although the Krahn had been pushed back from the northern part of the city, there was still a chance that a Krahn patrol could hear the commotion and come to see what it was. Maybe he should have come in his invisible mode. But then he thought about it a little while longer. Like it or not, he was a hero to them. They needed to see him. He gave them hope, and they would need all the hope they could get in the war that was coming. It was the reason he was paying a visit to Mazal. He needed to make sure that they were prepared for what was going to happen when they attacked the Krahn’s southern stronghold. If things went against them, then the Krahn could retaliate, which meant that they all would be in danger, not just those engaged in the fighting.
James turned and waved at them all and waited for their chanting and feet stomping to stop. Once it did, he smiled. “Thank you for that welcome to your homes.” He waited again for another round of chanting, feeling almost embarrassed now. “Thank you so much for your support, but the real hero here is Mazal. His courage and leadership is what is going to help you through this difficult time. I hope that you will extend to him the same faith.”
There was another round of stamping of feet, which James had come to know was the equivalent of clapping on Earth, and the crowd began to dissipate, most of the Jirina returning to their buildings. Soon the street was clear once again. James hoped that it wouldn’t stay that way for long. The Jirina needed to come out of hiding.
He turned toward the building and opened the front door, remembering where Mazal’s room was located. He walked up to the door and, not seeing a doorbell, knocked. The door was op
ened and Mazal peeked around, looking nervous. His expression changed to joy when he saw who it was.
“James!” he said, smiling widely. He opened the door wider. “Come in, please.”
James walked through the doorway and saw that there was an older-looking male and female Jirina sitting in the small room. “If I came at a bad time, I can return later,” he said.
“Don’t be dense,” Mazal said. “You know my home is always open to you. I’d like you to meet Ternel and Dulen. There son is Fajel, whom you met at the strike teams meeting.”
“Oh, yes,” James said, smiling at the two Jirina. They didn’t return the smile. “Very nice to meet you,” James said, unsure if they were scared or just not very happy to see him.
They both stood and walked toward him. The female, Dulen, if he remembered correctly, spoke to him. “James the Human, I cannot say I am pleased that my son has volunteered to fight. I worry for his safety.”
“So do I,” James said, truthfully. “But he is fighting for something he believes in, and something that is essential if this planet is ever to be free again. I’m sorry that I cannot guarantee his safety to you. I truly wish I could.”
“I pray that he returns safely to us,” Ternel said, putting an arm around his mate. “But I dread losing both of my sons to the Krahn. It just doesn’t seem fair.”
“Both?” James asked, looking at Mazal.
“Yes,” Mazal said, quietly. “Tenel, their oldest, was killed on the night of the first invasion. I think it’s one of the reasons why Fajel volunteered.”
“I’m sorry,” James said, looking at both of them. “I did not know. I could contact Zanth and have him pull back Fajel’s strike team—”
“No,” Ternel said. “Fajel is no longer a youngling. He has made his own choice, and we’re proud of him for doing this. We’ll just worry until he is back safely to us.”
“Then I will, as well,” James said.
“Thank you for your words with us,” Dulen said. She turned to Mazal. “We’ll speak with you later, Mazal. I’m sure you have much to speak about with James the Human.”
James cringed inwardly. He had told Mazal over and over that his name was just James. Adding ‘the Human’ after it seemed too much like an honorific title. He waited for the two Jirina to leave, smiling and nodding to them one last time, and then turned to Mazal. “Why didn’t you tell me when I met Fajel that he was the only son they had left?”
“Because I knew what your reaction would be,” Mazal said. “Exactly what you are doing now, James. Like they said, Fajel has his horns. He is old enough to make his own choices, and we must honor that. I’m proud of him.”
“I am as well,” James said. “Hopefully he’ll return safely from his mission.”
Mazal motioned toward the chairs. “Please sit. I think I have some fernta around—”
James held his hand out toward the Jirina. “No, thanks. I don’t know that I want to drink any right now. I have too much on my mind.”
Mazal looked at him blankly, and James thought he might have offended him. “Well, one small glass wouldn’t hurt,” he said.
Mazal smiled and walked through a doorway that led to his kitchen. James shook his head and smiled. He walked over and sat on the chair that had been recently vacated by Fajel’s parents.
Mazal soon appeared with a bottle of Fernta and two huge bowls. He filled up both and handed one to James. James took a small sip of the liquid for appearances and set the bowl down on the floor. “Thank you,” he said, feeling the now familiar burn of the liquid in his throat.
“Now, I’m sure you didn’t come here only to drink with me,” Mazal said. “What can I do for you?”
“I was just wondering about the state of the Jirina,” James replied. “I know that you are a peaceful species by nature. I wanted to make sure that the strain of the fighting was not becoming too much to handle.”
“Do you doubt our heart?” Mazal asked after taking a large drink of his fernta.
“No, it’s not that at all,” James said. “I just know how difficult it must be for the Jirina to be involved in the fighting.”
“I assure you, James,” Mazal said, “we’ll be there until the end, whatever that may turn out to be.”
“I know you will, Mazal,” James said. “I hope you don’t think that I presumed it would be otherwise. I’m still not completely comfortable speaking Talondarian Standard. Sometimes my true meaning gets lost in the translation.” He took a larger drink of his fernta. “I’m not worried about your heart,” he began again. “I worry about your spirit. I don’t want to win this war only for you to lose your customs. I’ve seen the effects of war on my own people. I don’t want to see it happen to yours.”
“I appreciate your concerns,” Mazal said, putting his empty bowl on the floor. “They reflect my own. But there’s really nothing that can be done about it now. We must prevail in the coming fight, or the state of our willpower won’t matter. If we’re to be broken, then let it be in our fight for freedom, and not as a species hiding from our own destiny.”
James smiled, somehow not surprised by the Jirina’s words. He had found out long before that the Rajani had underestimated their servants. He would never do it in the future.
#
Dreben was on patrol around the farm, a weapon from the creatures that had attacked them strapped to his back. The creatures had returned twice since that first night. The second visit, Dreben and some of his farmhands had been able to ambush them within the Sekani and Jirina bunkhouse, where Dreben had set up a trap. He’d set up the door to the building to lock after it closed. It was held slightly ajar by a small piece of wood that fell away when they opened the door. Once the four creatures were locked in the building, Dreben had rammed their ship with a harvesting machine, knocking it from its landing gear and then rolling it onto its side to make sure it couldn’t take off again.
Luckily, the ship had landed next to the rows of now knee-high plants, so no more of the harvest had been affected. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for the creatures to become desperate enough because of lack of food, water, and sleep to agree to surrender. It had taken almost two weeks before the pilot had opened the hatch on the ship. The creatures in the building had taken a week longer. They’d attempted everything, from shooting out the windows and trying to shoot out the handle on the only door, but to no avail. There were always a few of Dreben’s farmhands waiting for them to come out, sharp farm instruments ready to jab at the creatures who may have tried to escape.
When they had finally opened the door of the building, Dreben found one of the creatures was dead and half-eaten by the others. In their desperation, they had turned to cannibalism. One of the creatures had attacked a Sekani farmhand and had been beaten and stabbed to death by the other Sekani and Jirina. That left two from the building and the pilot from the ship. Dreben had forced them to relinquish everything but their clothing and had sent them walking out toward the Desert of Ambraa.
Two days after they had left, another ship had appeared above the farm. By then, Dreben had made all of his farmhands set up a shelter beneath the cover of the orchard. They had even dragged the captured ship under the trees and were using it to store supplies. No farmhands were in the two bunkhouse buildings when the ship demolished them from the air, not even bothering to land afterward. Dreben and his workers had already removed anything valuable or usable from the buildings before the attack, so it wasn’t a huge loss. The buildings could be rebuilt.
So now they worked the fields, knowing that the harvest would provide the only food they would have during the long cold and rainy season to come. But they also had armed lookouts always keeping an eye on the sky, which was why, when Dreben saw the object flying over the farm, all of the farmhands took cover in the orchard soon after that. He had four armed hands stay close to the orchard to protect the rest of the workers, and he ventured close to the burned-out remains of his former bunkhouse.
As the
object got larger in his vision, it became more difficult to understand what it was. At first he’d believed it was another ship returning to investigate the scene, but as it came closer, he could see that it was no ship; at least not one he had ever seen before. To him it looked like a flying rock. Then he thought he saw what looked like two pairs of legs sticking out of the back of it, covered in the same stony substance.
Finally, the object touched down on the road leading to the farm, about five hundred yards away from where he crouched next to the still-smoldering timber that had once been his house. Then something happened that he never would have expected. The stony exterior disappeared as if it had never been there, exposing two individuals. One was much larger than the other, and Dreben could see that it was a fellow Rajani. The other was not anything he’d ever seen before. But his attention was on the Rajani, who was speaking in hushed whispers, lamenting the state of his farm.
“Rauphangelaa?” Dreben yelled, not believing what he was seeing at first. He slowly stepped out from his shelter. The stony exterior suddenly appeared again around the creature that was with his boss as it stood in front of him, sheltering him from any threats.
“It’s all right, Kieren,” Rauphangelaa said, placing a hand on its shoulder. The exterior disappeared again, and as Dreben came closer, he could now see that it was actually a she, though he had no idea what species she was.
“Dreben,” his boss said, a worried look on his face, “what happened here? Are you all right?”
“We’ve been attacked three times now from hideous creatures in ships,” Dreben said. “The last time, they just came and destroyed the bunkhouses. We’re all living out in the orchard now.”
Rauphangelaa walked toward him slowly. As he reached his employee, he threw his arms around him, and Dreben returned the embrace for a moment. Then he stepped back and looked at his boss, smiling. “I didn’t think you’d ever return.”
Rajani Chronicles II Page 22