Noah's Ark

by Vijaya Schartz

Then Kostas, still firing with one hand, slung the extra rifle on his left shoulder and reached for the bottom pocket of his pack. One-handed, he retrieved one of the exploding devices, all set to detonate at ten seconds. He activated the first and threw it far toward the back of the cave. Then he pulled another and another, throwing them at the sides and corners, and in the fissures, all the time firing his plasma blaster.

  As the team neared the exit with no sign of the enemy relenting, the first explosions showered the cave with falling rocks. Without prompting, the team turned around and ran outside, across the rock shelf, where the other half of the team waited. More bombs exploded, shaking the mountain. Kostas kept plucking and activating more devices, throwing them inside, as far as he could, in rapid succession.

  “Get back,” he shouted above the noise, gesturing wildly. “Line up and blow up these bastards!”

  He blazed a handful of Zerkers who attempted to follow them outside.

  He joined the rest of the team at the edge of the shelf. The entire team now peppered the cave mouth with constant pulse fire as the swarm rushed out to escape the collapse.

  Trixie, next to him, was still firing like a pro. Only the ghastly white of her face, enhancing her large blue eyes, betrayed her dread.

  Kostas pulled the small bazooka out of his pack, loaded and aimed in one smooth motion.

  “Fire in the hole!”

  The heavy projectile flew through the opening of the cave and slammed into the back wall, exploding in a shower of melting rock and fire. The cave entrance collapsed. A chunk of the cliff above it fell, effectively blocking any exit. Clouds of dust and smoke obscured the view.

  When the air cleared, swept by a winter breeze, a strange silence hovered above the mountain, only punctuated by the halting breaths of the team members, and the tinkling river of pebbles cascading down the cliff. This battle was over.

  Kostas sighed and turned to Trixie. “Sorry about your crewman.” He nodded his appreciation “You did good in there, rookie. Good job.”

  Trixie stared at him, wide-eyed, then she promptly collapsed on rubber legs.

  Kostas caught her halfway down. “Damn!”

  She had fainted.

  * * *

  Trixie came to with a start. A circle of concerned faces stared at her from above. She was lying across a man's lap. A very strong, kneeling man, holding her comfortably on his thigh, one arm bracing her under the shoulders. His other hand gently brushed rock dust from her cheek.

  Kostas! He smelled of soap despite the grit on his face and clothes. She met his soft brown gaze, shadowed by dusty eyelashes. He hadn't even broken a sweat during the skirmish.

  A sudden flush of heat infused her as she became aware of his warm, very male contact.

  “Good to see color returning to your face, Captain.” His low, silky voice sent electric current scurrying up her skin.

  “What happened?” His close proximity confused her.

  “You fainted. Are you all right?” Concern softened the regular planes of his square face.

  Hot shame at her lusty thoughts rushed up Trixie's throat and cheeks. “I'm sorry.”

  He flashed a disarming smile, so close she wanted to caress the smooth jaw, kiss the dimple in his chin. He chuckled. “Can you climb down the mountain on your own? Or should I carry you on my back?”

  Was he serious? Tempted for a moment, Trixie remembered his comment about not hauling anyone down the mountain. She couldn't... wouldn't let him carry her like an invalid. Besides, his proximity was distracting enough, even when they did not touch. She pushed herself up to her feet, struggling for balance.

  He rose as she did and steadied her.

  She grabbed his forearm for needed support but quickly straightened and let go of him. “I'll be all right... Thanks.”

  The trip back down toward the citadel started in shocked silence, and on shaky legs. Soon, however, relief washed over Trixie and she could feel the team relaxing. Animated conversations punctuated the last leg of the descent. The tale of their adventure had galvanized the volunteer fighters, still processing the adrenaline.

  Trixie smiled at Kostas. “I bet there will be lots of storytelling in the refectory tonight.”

  Kostas nodded and slipped on his sunglasses. He never talked much.

  “I can't help but think about all these naked savages trapped in the mountain,” Trixie went on. “It seems a cruel fate, even for such wretched creatures.”

  Kostas pressed his lips together. “Better that than have them eat us for supper. From what I could smell, they see us as food.”

  Trixie flinched at the disgusting notion. Then she realized what else he'd said. “You mean you can smell beyond our range of perception?”

  Kostas cast her a sideway glance but did not respond. Definitely enhanced faculties, but why was he shy about admitting it? She decided not to push the issue. After all, the man had pulled her out of danger and supported her several times already. She owed him the courtesy of not prying. No questions asked. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

  “They were naked,” Trixie said instead. “As if they didn't mind the cold.”

  Kostas stared ahead, his eyes shaded by the dark glasses. “If they have been on this planet for generations, they must have adapted to the elements... or their physiology is different from ours.”

  “I noticed they have six fingers.” Trixie wondered whether it was a common trait in other humanoid races. “But who are they? Where do they come from? Could they possibly be native to this planet?”

  “Possibly.” Barely a whisper.

  “And if they can survive the cold, how do they feed themselves? Could there be some animal life, or plants underground?” Trixie shuddered at the thought that they might eat people, possibly their own.

  Kostas still seemed preoccupied, brooding.

  “What's the matter? Aren't you glad we won?”

  He grunted. “If these savages are such good survivors, killing a few hundred and blocking one cave won't stop them. They will find a way out. There are many passages in that cave, probably leading to other caves. There could be many other tribes spread out in the underground.”

  He was right, of course, Trixie could see that. “You think we are rejoicing too soon?”

  He shook his head and pointed his chin to the chatty group scrambling down the mountain in front of them. “They need their victory. It's good for the morale.”

  “So, I should let them have their celebration feast...” It made sense to Trixie. She understood the Human factor better than the military considerations. “But if there are more of these Zerkers...”

  “We have to organize ourselves, get ready for an attack.” The muscles in his jaw jumped.

  “You think they'll attack the citadel?” Trixie found the thought deeply disturbing.

  “It's a possibility. The walls are tall and thick for a reason. We have to be ready.”

  “Wraith!” Trixie hissed under her breath. “Just when things start to look up with the Godds, we discover another problem.”

  He groaned. “I'm sure the Godds knew about this all along.”

  “And they neglected to tell us...” Trixie seethed. This omission, if mentioned during the negotiations, would throw a wrench in their relationship with the Godds. But it might also give her a chance to delay the outcome. “I'll have to confront Prince Ktal about this.”

  Chapter Seven

  The automated shuttle dropped to the roof of the capitol at the same time that morning, empty. It was agreed that after the negotiations, the elongated glass egg would return Trixie and Kostas to the same rooftop, all without pilot intervention. The marvels of automation.

  But this morning, Trixie, giving in to McLure's insistence, had allowed him to participate in the discussions... only because she believed it would muddy the meeting and delay the inevitable hard work in the mines. Against all odds, she still hoped for some miracle, some outside intervention that would free them from the yoke of the Godds.
She chuckled inwardly. Kostas would label her an incorrigible optimist, but she couldn't help her very nature.

  When McLure stepped inside the shuttle, Trixie half expected some onboard computer to come to life and protest at the extra passenger. It didn't.

  She turned to Kostas as the flexglaz bubble closed over their heads. “I guess we could pack as many passengers as this shuttle can hold for a free tour of the ship.” She glanced back to count the empty seats. “Probably twelve or even fifteen if we squeeze them... The flying egg wouldn't know the difference.”

  Kostas, at her side, shot her a puzzled look, frozen, mouth open, as if she'd said something staggering.

  “Did I say something funny?” Trixie had never seen him stunned.

  McLure, in the facing seat, drew a thin, superior smile and leaned against the backrest, hands laced in his lap in a studied pose. “All he understands is that he could smuggle a tactical team to the alien ship. Soldiers have simple minds, easy to predict. They can't help their military conditioning.”

  McLure really meant brainwashing and genetic predisposition. Trixie balked at the discriminating slur. She hated military warmongers, yet she would never judge an individual as summarily as McLure just did. “A soldier is more than the sum of his military training.”

  She glanced at Kostas, half expecting him to throw a fist and bloody McLure's nose, like any other testosterone junkie. His shoulders stiffened, but he turned away, mumbling an oath under his breath. As the shuttle lifted in the pure morning sky, he stared outside the clear hull, his face expressionless.

  Since the raid on the Zerker cave, Trixie had noticed his tendency to close up and withdraw. Sometimes she wondered about him. His reactions didn't always make sense. She could understand his impassive attitude on the Goddian ship, where he functioned as her bodyguard, but his lack of reaction spread to other times as well.

  No matter how much she smiled at him, he did not respond anymore. It seemed that only when she was in jeopardy did his protective instincts take over and emotions color his face... although she'd caught him staring at her when he thought she wasn't watching. Odd.

  If she hadn't seen him in a different light, Trixie might believe him to be one of those emotionless, soulless clones, bred in labs and programmed to perform menial tasks unworthy of a Human being. Her father kept such servants at the mansion back on Earth. Trixie never approved. Just because they didn't have feelings didn't give him the right to overwork and verbally abuse them. But maybe that's what it said about her father that bothered her the most.

  She pushed away the disturbing memory. Unlike her father, Kostas would never do that. He was caring, protective, gentle despite his great physical strength. He could also be cold, calculating, and ruthless when it came to battle... but she did trust him with her life. Still, he remained a mystery.

  The shuttle quickly shot beyond the array of weather satellites and launched into black space, toward the waiting spaceship that looked like a giant clamshell, radiating luminous energy. The shuttle passed through the multiphasic shields in a rainbow shower, and Trixie composed herself to meet her Goddian would-be-masters.

  The three passengers disembarked in the empty bay. McLure took in the whiteness and emptiness of the alien vessel and smiled. Trixie led the way as they walked, unescorted, along the pristine white corridors of the seemingly deserted ship. Kostas closed the march.

  Trixie knew the way to the conference room. At least that's what she called it. From what little she had seen of the ship so far, all the rooms had a few consoles. And except for Ktal and Kuhr, she hadn't seen any other aliens on board.

  Perhaps the Godds could control the ship from anywhere. Or the consoles had a different function altogether, and the ship operated through means so foreign that Trixie's mind could not imagine them. When she'd asked Ktal, he'd ignored the question. Obviously, he didn't want the lowly help to learn how his ship operated. She couldn't blame him. In his place, she wouldn't either.

  The opening of the iris door fractured her train of thought. At the far end of the oval room, Ktal stood facing them. Trixie caught a slight widening of his eyes when he saw McLure. So, he hadn't known there was a third visitor today.

  She wondered why the shuttle wasn't more closely monitored. Either the Godds were overly confident, or the ship had invisible defensive features that would neutralize any surprise attack. She remembered the shield that protected the Godds from rifle fire on their first encounter, and the flash of energy that killed the councilman.

  A glance at Kostas told her nothing of his state of mind, but she suspected he'd also noticed Ktal's reaction, no matter how slight, and must have come to the same conclusions.

  Trixie pasted on her most charming smile to address the tall alien. “Lord Ktal, I want you to meet Professor McLure, an eminent geneticist, the brightest mind in our expedition, who insisted in meeting you.”

  McLure threw out a hand to shake, but Ktal only stared at the offered hand for a moment then turned to sit at the round white table. Upon a slight wave of Ktal's six fingers, a fourth chair emerged and molded itself from the flat white deck to accommodate McLure.

  It was out of character for McLure to remain silent, but he sat quietly, observing Ktal and Trixie, as well as Kostas, who sat stone-faced, pulse rifle resting loosely but conveniently in his lap.

  “We met the other inhabitants of this planet.” Trixie leveled her stare with Ktal's. “The ones you neglected to tell us about.”

  The Goddian giant flipped his long turquoise braids behind his shoulders and sighed. More like a deep, rumbling whoosh. “I knew you would find out sooner or later.”

  “Why didn't you tell us?” Trixie hated secrets. They usually meant bad news.

  “I didn't see any reason to worry you early on,” Ktal said in his low, sepulchral voice.

  “Who are these people?” Trixie wanted straight answers.

  “Some kind of natives...” Ktal's dismissive tone wouldn't trick her this time.

  Trixie had figured out that much on her own. “How do they survive?”

  The tall Godd in turquoise paused, as if surprised she would persist on the matter. “They raid the crops, steal cattle, hunt rodents, they even eat their dead...”

  Trixie closed her eyes briefly, thinking of Dolores, Kenny, and the crewman killed in the cave. Would they be devoured by the Zerkers? “God have mercy.”

  “We are merciful.” Ktal said, as if used to be considered a deity. “The citadel of Kassouk will protect you. Just don't go exploring outside the walls.”

  “What about planting the fields in the spring? And harvesting?” Trixie could only imagine the horror of working under constant threat.

  “They do not usually attack in the open, and not during the day. They prefer to raid at night. So, when a crop is ripe, you must harvest it quickly, before they loot the fields... Although they only target certain crops.”

  “What crops?” Trixie, unlike Ktal, took their survival seriously.

  “Fruit, things they can just pluck and eat. They do not steal grain. They leave it to fatten the rodents, then they hunt the fat rats... they prefer fresh meat.”

  “Charming.” Trixie glanced at Kostas for help. After all this was his expertise.

  The soldier remained silent, like a dutiful bodyguard.

  So she tried to think like a soldier. “We'll have to set a defensive perimeter... maybe have armed teams protecting grazing herds... or we could set booby-traps along the edges of the fields.”

  “All in due time. It's not spring, yet.” Ktal straightened and stretched the sides of his neck as if to relieve stress. “Right now, we are facing time constraints.” The tall being paused and chewed his lower lip, as if what he had to say would be difficult.

  Trixie didn't like the sound of that. She also noticed Ktal's freakishly small teeth.

  Ktal looked up with hooded turquoise eyes. “The Goddian Empire is sending barges to collect the duranium ore. We need you to start working immedia
tely. We've agreed to all your demands and safety measures, and the machines are doing the digging and the extraction. Your work is simple and requires no training.”

  Trixie struggled to keep the concern out of her face. “How many workers do you need at one time?”

  McLure raised a curious brow and glanced at her briefly.

  Ktal ignored or missed the exchange. “Three hundred per shift, working continuously in three shifts. Three hundred more if you want shorter shifts.”

  Twelve hundred? Trixie took a deep breath. That was more than she anticipated. It meant almost everyone would have to work every day. “What about the machines you are so proud of? Could they augment production without the need for more workers?”

  Ktal shook his head. “If you want to make work safer, it requires more laborers. Less laborers would increase the risks of accidents due to fatigue and error. And the faster the machines go, the more workers you need to keep up.”

  Trixie felt trapped. “Are the machines ready to be activated?”

  Ktal nodded. “Everything has been in place since before you arrived.”

  “You mean... you knew we were coming?” A sneaking feeling pinched Trixie's chest.

  Ktal's face remained impassive, his turquoise eyes half lidded. “We did.”

  “How?” Panic accelerated Trixie's heart. “We ended up here by accident!”

  Ktal bit his lips then said, very slowly. “There are no accidents in the universe. The strong rule and the weak serve. We needed you here.”

  A cold sluice iced Trixie's shoulders. “You snatched us from jump space and brought us here to work in the mines?”

  Ktal nodded slowly.

  Trixie couldn't think among the thumping noise of the blood in her ears. Her mind went blank. She could see no reaction at all from Kostas. He looked like a statue. How did he do that? Words stumbled out of her mouth unbidden. “You had no right. We were on a peaceful mission to colonize a virgin planet!”

  “There is no right or wrong, only what needs to be done.” Ktal sat very straight, very still.