Ronan

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Ronan Page 12

by Leslie Chase


  “Greetings,” I said, slowly and carefully. Reading Eskel script was hard enough, pronouncing the words was nearly impossible. Keeping things simple, I pointed to my chest, then Ronan’s. “My name is Becca, this is Ronan. Who are you?”

  The crowned leader leveled his stunner at me, aiming low to cover Ronan as well. My mouth dry, I stared at the vast barrel of the gun. Even though it wasn’t lethal, it terrified me. Broad beam, short range, it would put a human down for hours, and by all accounts they hurt.

  “I am Kazzik, leader of this hunting party,” he said, voice rasping as he shaped the words. “Under the sky king’s authority.”

  Sky king? Something about the title sounded off, as though it was uncomfortable in his mouth. I looked at the weapon he held, the scavenged spear tips, the circuit-crown he wore. A lot had changed in these people’s lives since we’d crashed on their world.

  “We are friends,” I tried. “We mean no harm.”

  His eyes hard, Kazzik shrugged. “This place is forbidden to all, by order of the sky king. Only he and his followers may tread here.”

  Great, we’re breaking a religious taboo. How to explain why we were here? “We meant no offense. We… sensed the power of this hyperspace relay and came to investigate.”

  I didn’t expect that to make sense to Kazzik, but he nodded. “You know the secrets of the relay, like the sky king. We saw the fire you kindled, as he did when he answered the sacred riddles. That is how we found you.”

  He seemed unsure of how to deal with us, which was an improvement on him trying to kill us where we stood. I nodded quickly, trying to push him to spare us — or at least to keep him focused on me. Sooner or later, Ronan would recover. If I gave him the chance, he’d get us free.

  “Who is the sky king?” I asked, playing for time.

  “He came from the stars and changed everything,” Kazzik said. “Slew those who kept the old ways, gave wonders to those who embraced the new. He moved the tribe from the temple and forbade anyone from coming here on pain of death.”

  I swallowed, not liking the sound of that. Kazzik weighed his choice, looking from me to Ronan to the fallen aliens Ronan had slain, and I interrupted before he could make the wrong decision.

  “He’ll want to see us,” I blurted out. It was the only thing I could think of. “We know the same secrets he does — he’ll be angry if you kill us before he finds out why.”

  That hit home. Kazzik frowned and glanced over his shoulder as though afraid someone was watching. Then he nodded and spoke to his companion in their own language, quick and sibilant.

  The spear wielding warrior nodded and approached, putting aside his weapon. Pulling out a leather strap he bound Ronan’s wrists together. I saw the anger in Ronan’s eyes at that, though he didn’t resist.

  The warrior plucked Ronan’s knives from his belt and searched him roughly before hauling him to his feet. The stunner’s effects were wearing off, but still Ronan staggered. He was in no state to walk, let alone fight.

  Maybe that was a good thing. The glares he shot at our captors made me worry that he’d restart the battle as soon as his muscles obeyed him again. In his current state, I doubted he’d win that fight.

  Another alien grabbed me by the arm and tied my arms behind me. I winced, biting down and trying not to let any pain show as the leather cut into my wrists — but Ronan’s head turned, his eyes narrowing. He’d noticed, and the way he looked at my captor said that he would remember that face.

  The climb down the temple was tougher than the climb up had been. Our captors left their dead behind, carrying Ronan between them and leaving me to make my own way down. The steep steps weren’t easy to manage in the dark, especially with my hands tied.

  I refused to ask for help and struggled on until we reached the ground. By that point Ronan’s muscles had relaxed enough to struggle against his captors, but bound as he was, I doubted even he’d be able to fight free.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” I said to him, afraid he’d try anyway. “Please don’t fight them, Ronan. We want to speak to these people, right? We can talk our way out of this.”

  He shot me a look but nodded warily. Whether he agreed or not, he wouldn’t risk my safety by starting another fight if he didn’t have to. It wasn’t easy for him, I saw how much it chafed at his warrior nature, but he put his instincts aside to protect me.

  “No talking,” Kazzik hissed at me. “Only in the sky tongue, so I can understand.”

  Ronan and I both glared at him, but he didn’t relent, and the stunner in his hands made it folly to argue. I’d never felt the effects of one, and I didn’t want to.

  If I couldn’t talk to Ronan, I might as well try to get more information out of Kazzik instead. Starting with who they were: I didn’t want to keep calling them ‘the aliens’ forever.

  “What do you call your people, Kazzik?” I asked. He looked puzzled by the question, so I pointed to myself, then Ronan. “I am a human, my companion is a prytheen. What are you?”

  “Ah.” He nodded quickly. “We are the zrin, then. And our tribe is the greatest of all the zrin tribes, for we keep the sky temple ready for the gods’ return. In the ancient times we built it, passing the First Test.”

  His pride shone through his words, and I heard the emphasis on the last two words. Not unearned — building a structure like that would be a challenge to anyone, let alone a Stone Age tribe. If the zrin had done that following the directions in the black cube, they had good reason to be proud of their ability.

  “This is the only sky temple, then?”

  He nodded, pride making him talkative. “My tribe built it, maintains it. We host the Great Tests of the sky people. That is why the sky king came to us first, to teach us the New Ways.”

  I heard the capitals and winced. Maybe these ‘new ways’ were good, but after the mess politicians had made on Earth with their slogans and soundbites and Great New Ideas, I’d always be skeptical.

  “What about the people who lived at the temple? The massacre—”

  Kazzik cut me off with a sharp gesture. “Not a massacre. A correction. The priests of the old ways had become corrupt and they didn’t welcome the sky king. Refused to acknowledge him and his followers as gods. But he struck them down, showed his power, and raised up those of us who saw the truth of his words. In time all will learn to follow the New Ways.”

  I liked this sky king less and less. Piecing the picture together from what Kazzik told me, I imagined the scene. Someone arriving from the sky, claiming to be a god, wielding a laser rifle against anyone who opposed him and giving boons like the stunner to his favored followers. Of course, the local leaders had to go so the newcomer could take power.

  “Is the sky king a zrin?” I asked, though I doubted it. It was possible that some of the locals had overrun the nearest human colony. But to do that and work out how to use the weapons they’d captured? Unlikely.

  Kazzik shook his head and laughed, but there was an edge to it, and a glance towards Ronan. “Of course not. The sky people are not zrin, they are sky people.”

  “A prytheen, then, like Ronan?” I asked. It was the only thing that made sense, surely there couldn’t be another new species out here to be discovered. On the other hand, the zrin might have built the stone temple, but they hadn’t built the hyperspace relay in that cube.

  Kazzik’s expression went through a complicated series of changes, too quick for me to follow, but in the end he nodded.

  Is he worried that he’s captured another ‘god’? I wondered if we might use that, but it was dangerous too. Whoever had taken over here wouldn’t want competition.

  Kazzik stayed silent as we moved through the jungle, following a barely visible trail between multicolored trees. He had more to say, I saw that in his expression. A tight look of worry, turned inward. Holding back my own questions I waited for him to speak again, and eventually he did.

  “How did you solve the god cube’s last riddle?” He hissed the questi
on at me, anger showing. “Even the sky king said it was impossible.”

  I smiled and raised my chin, unable to keep my pride from showing. “Ronan and I did that between us. It was difficult, even together.”

  “Impossible,” our zrin captor said. “You cannot have solved what the sky king failed to.”

  I shrugged, not knowing what to say. Ronan had grown up flying spacecraft, learning the math involved. For him the puzzle had been difficult. For others, it might be impossible. Ronan wasn’t just a deadly warrior or an amazing lover. He was smart too. I really lucked out with him.

  Maybe that makes up for the rest of my bad luck. I tried not to think about the danger we were in, but that wasn’t easy. I’ll call myself lucky if we both get out of here alive, I told myself. Not before.

  17

  Ronan

  While Becca spoke with our captors, I kept my eyes on the jungle surrounding us. Keeping track of landmarks, watching for dangers, and making certain I would be able to find my way back once we escaped.

  I’d never stop looking for an opportunity, but I knew it wouldn’t come soon. Though the zrin let me walk now, they kept a wary eye on me and any attempt at escape would risk Becca’s life. A better chance would come eventually, and I would be waiting.

  All I had to do was control myself until then. I controlled my breathing, seeking calm and patience.

  Rage burned like a star inside me, on the verge of going uncontrollably supernova. The injury to me was nothing, but they’d hurt my khara. For that, I promised myself, they would pay.

  But not yet. Not while my muscles were still recovering from the stunner, not while Becca was in danger, and not while she spoke with the zrin leader. I didn’t share her optimism — these people were not our friends, and we were walking further and further into danger. Talking would not be the solution, not after I’d already slain some of their warriors.

  We walked for hours before we came to a village, hidden beneath the branches of the jungle. Homes burrowed into the ground or were built into the trees themselves, almost invisible until we were in amongst them. No wonder we hadn’t seen these people before — they blended into their environment seamlessly. Even once we entered the village I couldn’t tell how big it was.

  Our captors herded the two of us forward and I felt alien eyes peer at us from the shadows. By now the sun had crossed the horizon, though the tree canopy didn’t let through much light.

  I tried calculating our odds and scowled. There were more zrin here than I’d expected, and without my weapons I didn’t like my chances in a fight. On the other hand, following Becca’s lead had kept us alive and together this far. I might not like it, but perhaps she’d be able to talk our way out of this.

  If I kept telling myself that, perhaps it would overcome my misgivings.

  An aura of fear hung over the alien village and the zrin villagers shrank back as we passed. At first I thought they feared me, but soon I realized they were looking at our guards. Glares and anger followed them when they weren’t looking, but the villagers dropped their gaze as soon as a guard looked their way.

  The warriors seemed to enjoy that reaction, swaggering with an attitude I recognized. Bullies. Tough ones, perhaps, but these weren’t warriors who fought for the good of their people. Their only concern was their own profit.

  It took an effort not to show my disgust. Warriors who victimized their own people were worse even than pirates. At least here it might work to our advantage, though. The zrin weren’t unified and that made escape more plausible.

  The small surge of hope that brought me didn’t last long.

  Kazzik led us to a large clearing inside the village and I stopped in shock at what waited for us there. The remains of a flier, nose buried in the jungle floor, wings torn and hull scarred. A flier I’d seen before.

  The cockpit’s windscreen was cracked and blackened, a hole burned through the toughened glass. I’d put that hole there myself, laser rifle pressed against it. Somehow, Korhmar had reached the village and managed to land. His flier would never take to the air again, but landing it at all in that condition was impressive.

  Korhmar might be a pirate, a coward, and a slaver. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a skilled pilot. I cursed under my breath, waiting for him to spring forth and gloat.

  There was no sign of movement inside the crashed flier. Perhaps his injuries had forced Korhmar into a healing trance? That would put off our confrontation for a little while, but I promised myself that next time we faced each other I would end him.

  Zrin guards stood around the flier, watchful eyes on us as we approached. Korhmar might have conquered these people but he obviously didn’t feel safe amongst them, not if he needed a constant guard while he recovered. More trouble we might be able to exploit if we were lucky.

  Kazzik exchanged words with the guards’ leader, another zrin carrying a stolen stunner and wearing a fanciful crown of circuitry. Their hissing, snarling language meant nothing to me but the tone carried anger, spite, perhaps even fear.

  Kazzik’s guards stiffened at the words and rough hands grabbed Becca and me. Becca gasped, biting back a cry of pain, and I snarled a warning at the one who dared lay his hands on my khara. My rage flared white hot, almost impossible to resist, but Becca shook her head. Her pleading look gave me the strength I needed to push down my battle rage but I swore that I would remember that zrin.

  They pulled us out of the clearing and to one of the huge purple-barked trees surrounding it. A gap between the roots had been hollowed out and fitted with a barred door, turning the space within into a functional prison cell large enough for the two of us. Our captors pushed us inside, closing the door and tying it shut with a leather strap.

  To my surprise they walked away, though they didn’t go far. An animated conversation had begun in the center of the settlement and it looked like none of the zrin warriors wanted to be left out of it. Some of the ‘civilians’ — those who didn’t carry Korhmar’s gifts — watched nervously from the edges.

  Fine. While they focused on their tribal politics, Becca and I had privacy and a chance to catch up. I looked at her, assessing her injuries and glad to see she’d suffered nothing worse than a few bruises.

  Now that we were unobserved, I extended my claws and cut the leather cord binding my wrists, then freed Becca’s arms. I pulled her into a tight embrace, her body shaking as she let herself relax. For a moment we held each other wordlessly, drawing strength from each other.

  “What did you say to them?” I asked Becca, breaking the silence. “How did you even know what to say?”

  “I spoke Eskel,” she said taking a deep breath and letting it out with a shudder. “It was all I could think of, and it worked. I think it’s their religious language or something? Anyway, I told them we were friends but I’m not sure that got across.”

  That raised more questions than it answered, but I didn’t argue with the result. If we had a language in common with these zrin, I’d take it, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

  “I don’t know what to do next, though,” my khara continued, looking at the ground. “There’s no clever plan, I just didn’t want to see you die. I’m sorry I got you captured.”

  “You saved us both,” I told her, kissing her forehead. “To protect you, I’d bear any indignity. Though I confess I do not much like being trapped in this cage.”

  She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tight, telling me what she’d learned. I growled, putting together the pieces.

  “Korhmar,” I hissed when she finished. “He and his followers struck the human settlements, stole their fliers and weapons. Then he came here with his looted technology, killed their leaders and anyone who wouldn’t follow him. He gave powerful gifts to those who took his side, and now he runs the place. Or did until we took out his fliers.”

  Becca swallowed, going pale. The memory of our aerial battle or fear of what Korhmar would do to us? Probably both. I bent over her and planted a kiss on the to
p of her head.

  “Do not worry, little one,” I told her. “I will see you safely home.”

  A sad chuckle escaped her as she hugged me. “Really? Because it seems pretty hopeless right now.”

  I smiled, looked out at the central clearing. The zrin were arguing now, hissing back and forth. Around Korhmar’s warriors, the villagers waited in silence, exchanging looks. A few glanced in our direction before hurriedly looking away.

  “If Korhmar were awake, he’d have come out to gloat straight away,” I told her. “He is in a healing trance in that flier, and our presence here shows his followers that his story isn’t true. You can speak with them, tell them what’s really happening.”

  I doubted it would be that simple, and from Becca’s expression I knew I hadn’t convinced her either. But it was a plan, something to work towards. Violence would always remain an option.

  “Okay,” Becca said, letting out a shaky breath. “So what do we do exactly?”

  “We recover our strength, observe the zrin, and wait,” I said. “Soon the zrin will speak with you again. If you can resolve this by talking, well and good. If not, or if Korhmar recovers before we’re ready, I will get us clear and back to the flier.”

  And then we’ll see if I can get it into the air again, I thought. When we’d last seen it, the flier had been swept away along the swollen river, its cargo ramp lowered and letting in muddy water. It might be no better off than Korhmar’s. No need to burden Becca with that worry, though. It would work or I would find another way to save her.

  In the center of the village, the zrin snarled and hissed at each other, their argument growing more heated with each exchange. Perhaps I wouldn’t be the first to resort to violence.

  “Can you make out what they are saying?” I asked quietly, trying to count the warriors and figure out the factions. My heart sank. There were dozens of armed zrin in at least two groups. If this turned into a civil war it would be a bloody affair. I didn’t know if anyone would take our side.

 

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