by Laura Kaighn
“Here is our wisdom stone, Storyteller. Our people await its telling.” Handing Vesarius a thin slab of crystalline quartz, the high chancellor gestured with serrated foreclaws to his population, now reassembled across the plaza. “Grow and rejoice, my brothers. Our Great Oneness has sent us their wishes for peace. Listen to the wisdom words of our ancestors, and learn the ways of armistice.”
Hefting the tablet with its hieroglyphic symbols into the crook of his arm, Vesarius faced his attentive crowd. “I require a reading device, High Chancellor, a translator to help me decipher these symbols. Might my adviser assist?”
“Of course, Storyteller,” the queenkeeper agreed. His eyestalks pivoted back to the Alliance delegation. Those golden-streaked orbs centered on Dorinda, and she shivered from the sudden scrutiny. “Come, Little Creature. Stand beside me and assist our storyteller.”
“Little creature?” Dorinda shrugged off that title as if flicking away a pesky mosquito. Perhaps the translation was only meant to be descriptive.
Climbing the three straddling steps to the platform, Dorinda slipped Vesarius’ pack from his right shoulder and set it down at her feet. Opening the main compartment she carefully pushed aside the folded crossbow and reached in for the reader pad.
“Here, Sarius.” Standing, Dorinda handed her friend the device.
“Hold the tablet for me,” he instructed. “I will move the pad and read the words.”
Nodding, Dorinda took the crystal slab from him careful to balance it on her hip before gripping its weight evenly in both hands. There was an expectancy in the warm afternoon air that nonetheless gave Dorinda a shiver. This was Orthop and Alliance history in the making, and Vesarius and she were a part of it. Dorinda hoped she’d live to read about it in the Galactic Times.
“People of Orthop,” Vesarius began holding the reader pad against the tablet and glancing at the viewscreen’s standard translation. “Your Great Oneness urges your good health and prosperity. They have sent you this wisdom stone to warn you of the futility of violence and of the danger of meddling with time.” Moving the reader pad along the cryptic row of symbols, Vesarius translated the Mytoki words into narrative form, so that their wishes seemed more a story than a list of commandments.
As her friend read, Dorinda glanced up at the Orthop beside her. The chancellor’s armor glistened in the brightness of the waning day. His menacing foreclaws’ serrated edges were as lethal as Vesarius’ survival knife tucked safely in the Vesar’s boot. Dorinda frowned at the comparison.
What if some of the Orthops didn’t want peace? What if some of them, over the bloody years, had acquired a taste for human flesh? Looking out over the heads of the assembled crowd, Dorinda couldn’t help but sense a growing apprehension.
These were insects, following their queen’s wishes just as a hive of worker bees would. But Orthops were intelligent insects. They had demonstrated ingenuity, an ability to rebuild a civilization long gone. Among them there had to be individuality, a sense of independence, perhaps even of insecurity. As with humans, not all could be trusted. Dorinda’s elbow rested against the hard butt of the plasma pistol beneath her cotton jacket. She was only mildly reassured by its presence.
As Vesarius translated the Mytoki edicts, Dorinda listened and was slightly more assured. It seemed the ancient aliens had been very specific, condemning any act of violence, accepting only a shared respect for life and an inner pride in one’s own accomplishments.
“Build your cities and lives to reflect the strength and freedom of the Mytoki city,” Vesarius read. “Find new worlds on which to grow and prosper, but save the essence of the land to nurture and call your own. Cherish the tree and the lake. Respect the creatures with which you share the land. Every life is part of your own. Destroy it and you destroy part of yourselves,” Vesarius continued from the Mytoki’s crystal book.
Noticing that many in the Orthop attendants had crossed their foreclaws in respect, Dorinda relaxed further. As Vesarius descended the page she adjusted the tablet’s weight higher in her arms so that he might continue reading. He glanced many times to the audience and gestured with his free hand toward the assembled listeners.
“This wisdom we share with you through the storyteller,” Vesarius asserted. “Though he is different from us outwardly, his wisdom and vision of peace are the same. We called him ‘Traveler’ and welcomed his wisdom during his short visit. We wish him well on his many journeys of peace.”
Dorinda’s brow rose. So that was why the Orthop high chancellor had wanted Vesarius to read the tablet. How had the ancient Mytoki known the Vesar would ultimately be present for such history? Had it been fate?
Suddenly Vesarius paused. He rushed through a section of the text without reading it aloud. Dorinda witnessed his frown, saw his mahogany complexion darken. What had he read?
Then Vesarius continued his story as if nothing had happened, though Dorinda was certain her companion had omitted a portion of the text. She would ask later what had caused his blush. She didn’t know everything about his trip into Mytok’s past. Vesarius had not discussed every detail. Perhaps there was a hidden message meant only for his eyes, a secret disguised between lines of text.
Soon the tablet had been disclosed to all present. The mandarin sun was setting upon the distant desert peaks, setting upon the first day of Orthop and Alliance peace. Dorinda saw Vesarius’ shoulders sag under that day’s weight. She rested her hand on his bare arm. “You’re tired.”
With a wilted grin he nodded. “My head desires a soft pillow. My eyes a dark room.” Descending the steps to the plaza, pack back on his shoulder, Vesarius smiled tiredly to his expectant captain. “The queen desires that I read all of the Orthop law books. I think it best we wait for another day, Bear. I am shrubbed.”
Chuckling, Coty slapped his friend on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Bushed,” he corrected. “Your idiom slaughtering gets sloppy after a hard day, my friend. Let’s get you back to the Pompeii. No doubt you’ll perk up after a good meal. My nerves are frazzled enough for a twenty ounce T-bone. I can only imagine how you must feel.”
“As if a full-grown gharodon hunches upon my shoulder,” Vesarius admitted allowing his pack to slip from his spine with a heavy thump.
“I’ll carry that, Sarius,” Dorinda offered. “You’ve carted it around all day. I’m just glad you never needed to use any of the arsenal inside.”
Nodding his gratitude, Vesarius lifted the thirty pound parcel then slipped it onto Dorinda’s shoulders. With a grunt, Dorinda adjusted its bulk then glanced back at her mate with a beaming smile. “Do not let the ambassador see that look, Green Eyes,” Vesarius whispered into her ear. “The emotion shouts of endearment.” When Dorinda’s lips fell, Vesarius chuckled tiredly and patted her arm. “I will make our excuses to the high chancellor.”
“I’ll come with you,” Dorinda asserted. She followed her Vesar companion to the small circle of Orthops gathered beside the speaking platform. Quickly she recognized one of the group as the healer who had earlier offered his services to Vesarius. The cryptic symbol tattooed to his hefty foreclaw was no doubt a sign of his status. “Healer,” she addressed walking up before him. “Thank you for your offer a while ago. Please don’t feel I disregarded it. At the time I was ... worried for my friend.”
“On the contrary, Little Creature. You are correct. We Orthops do not possess an extensive knowledge of your three species. Though we have performed autopsies on deceased specimens, we do not yet know how to keep you alive. That will no doubt come in time.”
“I hope so too,” Dorinda agreed crossing her arms in respect. “Please excuse us. The storyteller wants to postpone further activities until he’s rested.”
“Farewell, Little Creature,” the healer said waggling a foreclaw once at her. Was the gesture an imitation of a human wave? Shrugging away the notion, Dorinda strode to her Vesar comrade who was conversing with the Orthop chancellor and his aides.
“I will return in the mo
rning with the ambassador and his team,” he said. “There are gifts. We will present them then.” Vesarius bowed to the high chancellor. “Perhaps we may exchange more wisdom words.”
“Yes, Storyteller. Wisdom and knowledge are essential not only for survival, but as fuel for the soul. We rejoice in your coming.” Nodding and crossing his arms in gesture, Vesarius backed away from the group then spun toward the Vragjok. In response to the warrior’s surprised brow jerk and Dorinda’s gasp, the high chancellor explained, “They wish to see you leave, Storyteller.”
Two rows of Orthop well-wishers lined a path from the platform to the waiting transport where Dorinda could see Coty standing beside the open hatch. No doubt the Vesar ambassador and his entourage were already inside, brooding.
“I am honored, High Chancellor.” As Vesarius strode forward, his Orthop assembly crossed their foreclaws once again in respect. Dorinda hefted his heavy pack higher upon her shoulders and increased her pace to match Vesarius’ longer legs.
“They really like you,” she realized as the line melted away behind them, the gathering ambling to follow. “I hope your head stays the same size. I wouldn’t want it to explode.”
“You are concerned my brain will gain too much knowledge?” Vesarius asked with a crooked smirk. They were nearing the squatting silver transport parked upon the opalline plaza.
“Hardly,” Dorinda blurted. “I don’t want your ego outgrowing your britches. A Vesar has enough pride to deal with.”
Vesarius shared a chuckle with her then glanced back over his shoulder to watch the double row of Orthops continue to dissolve and trail them. “Perhaps we should have invited the high chancellor aboard the Pompeii.”
Dorinda shook her auburn head smiling. “Don’t rush the process. You’ve done a wonderful job in just- UH!” Someone shoved her to the ground from behind. She hit hard with the added weight of Vesarius’ pack. Grunting, Dorinda thrust her hands against the sun-warmed tiles. “Sarius!” She lifted her head to see splayed insect claws tromping about. Chaos surrounded her, like fiery electricity. Heart pumping, Dorinda clambered to her feet. She reached for her pistol but bounced off an oncoming insectoid freight train. “No!” Her weapon twisted from fumbling fingers to skid uselessly away. “Sarius?” Eyes scouring the crowded plaza, Dorinda saw only carapace and razored foreclaws.
“Dori!” Vesarius called in alarm. Then she saw him. The Vesar was engulfed by a trio of Orthop abductors each with a mantis grip on a struggling appendage. “Dori! The crossbow!” he hollered even as he was being hauled away in their armored grasps.
“Michael!” Dorinda screamed and dropped the pack to grope for the closing. Her hands were embalmed in panic as she tugged out the folded weapon. With a jerk, she snapped the crossbow into a lethal shaft and twisted the bow into place. Then, straining against the string, Dorinda heaved it tense to the stock latch. In the next moment, the stock was hefted into the crook of her shoulder, and she aimed along its telescoped sight. Just as Dorinda’s finger curled to the trigger, however, a solid foreclaw slammed her backward. The impotent crossbow tilted from its intent as Dorinda smashed against the plaza tiles with a lung-wrenching thud.
“Leave us, Little Creature,” an Orthop clicked, translator interpreting. “Storyteller is ours. We will return him to you only once our demands have been heard.”
“What ... what do you want?” Dorinda forced her spinning, aching head to still. Someone was pulling her to her feet. With a yelp, Dorinda lurched away from the cold, hard mantis grasp of another Orthop. “You won’t hurt him?”
“He will not be eaten, no,” the Orthop reassured flatly. “Now, leave us. Return to your ship.”
“Dori?” Michael Coty rushed toward her amid the disoriented herd of towering aliens. A moment later he shouldered through the circle of insects to grab the crossbow from her flaccid hand. “Where is he? I saw them surround you. Then he disappeared. Dorinda!”
“They’ve taken him, Michael. My vision came true.” She viciously swiped moisture from her cheek. Her voice was aquiver when she added, “They’re not going to hurt him. They want to talk. I think they’ve got conditions for the peace treaty.”
“Where is he?” Coty was scanning the wall of bustling carapace surrounding them with both his eyes and the crossbow’s pointed bolts. “Sarius! Damn it. We’ll take the transport and find him.” The captain snatched Dorinda’s arm to steer her back toward the Vragjok.
“No, Michael.” Dorinda jammed her feet into the plaza tiles. “They’ll kill him if we don’t follow their orders.”
“The little creature is correct,” an Orthop assured leaning over them with clamping mandibles. “You must leave now, or we will negotiate with others and have you for our evening meal.”
Shivering at the implications, Dorinda balked. She shouldered Coty aside as she retreated. “Let’s do as he says.”
“What about Vesarius?”
Spinning upon her captain, Dorinda flattened her palm against his chest. “Michael, let’s get back to the ship.” Her heart was a barbell in her ribcage. “We’re out-clawed.”
Coty visibly swallowed a harsh retort. “Take the pack. I’ve got the crossbow.” His jasper glare still glued to the twirling eyestalks towering over him, Michael Bear Coty warned through his teeth, “Harm him and the Pompeii will level your city ... and every cockroach in it.”
Heaving Vesarius’ pack onto one shoulder, Dorinda shoved Coty away from the crime scene and toward the transport. “Before or after they vaporize us?”
Blinking at her steamy sarcasm, Coty defended, “I … didn’t want to show weakness ... fear.”
“So you showed blind stupidity instead?” Dorinda’s acerbic comment contrasted sharply with the tears streaking her face. “I feel more helpless than you act, Michael, and I’m ten times more frightened. What if we can’t meet their demands? They’ll kill him, then us.”
“Who’s ‘they’, I wonder?” Michael Coty mumbled as they reached the transport and the door-like frame of Ambassador Tolianksalya.
“They are those who seek conquest through deception,” the Vesar diplomat growled from the open hatch. “It is not honorable.” The Vesar’s dark eyes were shadowed in Fury as the two humans climbed aboard. “This insult to the Alliance is beyond healing. There will be no peace with creatures that have no honor. We leave orbit immediately.”
“But if you don’t negotiate a treaty,” Dorinda gasped, “Vesarius dies.”
“The commander is expendable.” Tolianksalya glared at Coty as the captain shouldered past, heading for the pilot seat. “Your engineer will initiate the Pompeii’s enhanced ion drives. And your crew will have all armament prepared for deployment.”
“Shoot our way out?” Coty stammered even as he fired up the transport’s nacelles.
“No!” Dorinda insisted gripping the ambassador’s arm. “We can’t leave Vesarius. We have to find out who took him. I’m sure the Orthop government knew nothing of this. We’d have been killed where we stood had the high chancellor wanted us dead. Hell, we would’ve been vaporized as soon as we entered orbit.”
“Fire thrusters, Captain,” Tolianksalya commanded ignoring her. Then his ebony gaze was simmering over her, his furrowed brow menacingly stern. “He is not of warrior blood, Jade. He is of no consequence. We must survive to warn the Alliance. This close to their defenses, one ship is space dust.”
“He is of warrior blood,” Dorinda avowed. She squared her jaw and blinked away tears. “I’m not leaving without him.” Spinning on the still open hatch, Dorinda stomped forward. One powerful hand snatched her neck, freezing her advance with choking finality.
“Fire thrusters,” Tolianksalya growled again, then stepped past Dorinda’s stiffened frame to punch the hatch lock. The door hummed closed shutting out all chance of Vesarius’ rescue with the sweetened Orthop atmosphere.
“Sarius,” Dorinda gasped. As Tolianksalya released her, she sank to her knees in utter defeat. Vesarius would be ripped to pieces and
savored in bloody chunks. Dorinda’s mind could not shut out the violent imagery, and she sobbed openly even as the roaring engines shoved the Vragjok vertical.
The return trip to the Pompeii was a blur. Dorinda was only vaguely aware of Coty’s supporting closeness as she stumbled from the shuttle into the transport bay.
Dr. Sheradon and two of her nurses rushed forward to intercept them. “What’s going on, Captain?” Yolonda’s ice-blue eyes were rimmed with concern. “Where’s Vesarius?”
“Take her, Lonnie,” Coty instructed darkly. “We’re leaving orbit. The Orthops have taken the commander hostage, and we’re going to need reinforcements from Alliance Central.”
“You’re leaving him?” Sheradon gathered the sagging Dorinda in her arms.
“I have my orders, Doctor,” Coty snapped back. “The lives of my crew are at risk, as is war with the Orthops if we stay.”
“To the bridge, Captain,” Tolianksalya rumbled leaving no room for further debate.
As Coty grimaced and tramped away beside the ambassador, Dorinda lifted her hanging head to expel her frustrated anger. “You’d do anything to see him die, wouldn’t you, Tolianksalya? You hate him ... as much as I love him.” Dorinda sobbed as the ambassador rooted his retreat, spine an iron barrier. “I hope you rot in Huaj´im.”
“Dori!” Coty warned sharply. “Don’t dishonor him. Vesarius’s too precious to both of us for that.”
“You’ve left my mate to be murdered by those ... those monsters,” Dorinda spat.
“Mate?” Tolianksalya spun on this new revelation, his fists weighted boulders. “So, Tankawankanyi is not ready. He breaks tradition still.” With a grim guffaw, the ambassador twisted his back on Dorinda. He strode from the bay, an untouchable mahogany timber. Coty could only follow.
“Damn you!” Dorinda cursed after them. She hiccupped her sorrow, feeling the energy drain through her toes and into the deck. Dr. Sheradon groaned to keep her vertical.
“Oh, Dori. I’m so sorry,” Yolonda soothed hugging her with one supporting arm. “Come on. Coty’ll think of something.”