Willa's Way

by Reagan Woods

  Batting away his annoyance, he angled his body for privacy in the limited space on the hover platform. He touched the discreet button imbedded in his skull behind his ear.

  “Vank here,” he answered tersely.

  “General Darvan requests that you execute your assignment with haste and report to the Victory at your earliest opportunity. Ventix energy signatures have been detected intermittently throughout the galaxy and your presence is required.”

  Rolling his broad shoulders, he shook off his annoyance. This hunt had been an entertaining diversion from the monotony of waiting and warring.

  “Victory, what is the General’s actual time-frame?” his commanding voice sounded harsh and dry to his own ears. His team had run silent since they began tracking the odd thermal signature movements nearly eight hours before. They’d been following this energy signature for nearly two Earth weeks intermittently. The damned Earther had managed to outwit his best trackers time and again.

  He enjoyed leading Track Team One and would be sorry to return to his ship. Watching the trackers under his command run from the angry swarm of harmless flying mammals several rotations ago had been the highlight of this boring campaign.

  “The General requests that you report on ship within one of the planet’s axial rotations for a strategy meeting. He is expecting you at the commencement of fourth watch.”

  “Victory, please record communique for General Darvan,” he requested, running through the facts that he knew his serious-minded brother, General Darvan, would want to hear.

  Darvan was a good, conscientious leader and a courageous warrior but he carried a heavy burden. Managing the demands of the Council, dealing with the needs of his aggressive warriors and continually dealing with Councilor Tegas’ nephew, Jorkan, were aging Darvan rapidly.

  He and Darvan needed to talk to their three younger brothers and plan another trip to the Doranos Galaxy when Earth was finally handed off to a governor. It had been too long since either of them had had a female. While females were rare in both the galaxies that made up the CORANOS Galactic Alliance, Doranos females were freer with their favors...Vank wondered if he should tell Jorkan about the trip he’d made to Tegas’ estate last time…Jorkan’s step-sister, Ilana, had been visiting as well…

  “On your mark, Sir,” the Victory’s com system jerked him back to the present.

  “General Darvan, this is Vank from Earth Track Team One. This time planet-side has been a welcome change of scene for the warriors under my command. We’ve located a particularly canny Earther and intend to capture him during the dark cycle. I heard chatter that Team Six caught the group of Earthers outside of Dallas and are returning to the Horizon now. I believe that makes this Earther the last of the indigenous population outside our camps. I will report in person, per your request, at the mark of Fourth Watch. Vank out.”

  With that chore out of his way, Vank focused on the task at hand, firmly putting thoughts of willing females aside.

  “Skylan, report.”

  Vank used his team’s short-range communications - or com signal - to reach the current lead tracker.

  “The Earther’s energy signature has disappeared as predicted, sir,” a raspy voice came back.

  “Skylan, hold your position. Report any movement. The rest of Team One is to report to the river bank east of current position to make camp for this light cycle. Vank out.”

  “Bram, take us to the riverbank and uncloak,” Vank ordered his right-hand warrior.

  “Yes, sir.”

  In spite of his light pink eyes and nearly translucent skin and hair, Vank trusted Bram. Few others could match Bram’s efficiency. Standing a full foot-and-a-half shorter than Vank’s own eight foot frame, Bram was nearly as wide and muscular as his Corian brother warriors.

  A Doranos serving in the military arm of the CORANOS Galactic Alliance was not unheard of but definitely rare. The Corian and Doranos Galaxies had formed the CORANOS Galactic Alliance over twenty generations ago. Both races shared bi-pedal humanoid forms but the two people groups had radically different physical characteristics.

  Jumping off the platform and into the brown, waist-high grass that grew up the banks of the Mississippi River, Vank surveyed the topography. The ravaged cityscape bore little resemblance to the images he’d seen of St. Louis from before the war. The bridges across the sluggish river dropped off before meeting the opposite bank. Their Arch still stood. The once gloriously shiny stainless steel finish now gleamed dully around pocks and scorches from laser fire and toxic fall out.

  “It’s too bad we have such a time-sensitive mission,” Bram observed while the other members of the team began stealthily making their way towards the platform.

  “That it is,” Vank agreed. “It would be fun to see what other little tricks this Earther has come up with for avoiding us.”

  “Who would have thought that such a little female would be so ingenious?” Calyx joined them on the platform along with the silent giant, Domik.

  “Female?” Vank questioned. “What makes you think the Earther is female?”

  Calyx was younger than the other trackers and the newest addition to this team.

  “I worked with the Collection Teams before transferring to your team, sir. I observed several of the females that we collected for the Earth-based work camps. They’re similar in stature to the Earther we track now. While they seem to come in many shapes and sizes and colors, the female Earthers move differently than the males of their species,” Calyx concluded confidently. “They’re very alluring little creatures.”

  There were several grunts of agreement from the others.

  “Interesting theory,” he addressed Calyx’s preceding thought, deciding to ignore the last part. Many of these warriors would never know the delights of female companionship. He, on Darvan’s advice, made it a policy not to let them know what they were missing. “We’ll set the trap and see if our little Earther takes the bait tonight,” Vank said as the others began arriving.

  “Our Earther will likely hold the pattern of resting during the light hours and travelling in the dark. I’ll take watch and wake Calyx and Domik to relieve Skylan and myself. At the mark of third watch, Bram and Silex will move out to set the trap while Calyx, Skylan, Domik and I take up positions along the most likely routes of escape. We’ve been recalled to our ships. This vacation is over.”

  Vank moved to his lookout position. From the tall grass at the top of the riverbank he checked to be sure Bram cloaked the platform. Unless someone or something walked directly into it, the platform would be totally undetectable, hovering just above the grasses of the river bank.

  When the CGA conquered a planet or system, the survivors were gathered by the Collection Teams into work camps and treated as a conquered people. Rarely, a conquered population with significant cultural or technological value had been admitted into the CGA as a protected Tribe. None of the indigenous population were allowed to live independently outside of the work camps. That was where the Track Teams came into play.

  “Vank,” Skylan’s voice came over the com.

  “Go ahead,” he continued to scan his eyes over the landscape.

  “Calyx and I have been talking, and he has some interesting information to share about these Earthers and our…laws,” Skylan wasn’t one for idle chit chat. When he voiced an opinion, Vank listened.

  “Am I going to regret this?”

  “I don’t think so,” Calyx chimed in.

  “I think you should hear him out, Vank,” Skylan vouched.

  “Alright, kid, make it fast.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” he began. “Although, it hasn’t been done in several generations, the legal histories state that the original Corians agreed to become warriors in exchange for certain privileges…”

  “Alright, I’ll bite,” Vank played along. “What privileges?”

  “Any warrior’s service entitles him to the right to petition the highest CORANOS authority in the galaxy for the ability
to claim individual members of a conquered population.”

  “What population? The Earthers?” Vank couldn’t believe his ears.

  “Yes.”

  “Why would you want to claim an Earther? They’re small and weak. Take a look around at what they’ve done to one another.”

  “Look at what they’ve survived rather than what they’ve done to one another. I wouldn’t call that weakness,” Calyx’s demeanor over the com struck Vank as very matter-of-fact. “Besides, we’re here now. Clearly, they have no need to self-govern. I’m thinking of the other possibilities…”

  “What could you possibly hope to gain by claiming an Earther?”

  “When we catch this female Earther, take a good look at her,” Calyx urged. “They look different from us just like the Doranos do. No offense, Bram.”

  “None taken.”

  “Earther bodies hold similar core temperatures and require an environment very similar to ours. They eat the same basic things we do. They’re human, Commander. They’ve simply evolved differently. We might not be able to have families with them but we could have…companionship.”

  There was a palpable silence over the com station.

  “Vank,” Skylan broke in, amusement evident in his voice. “The young pup is trying to tell you that he’d like to have a female Earther. Sexually,” he finished emphatically.

  A long moment passed before Vank spoke, “You do realize the High Council will not, under any circumstances, grant us the right to claim Earthers. Don’t you?”

  There was a collective groan over the com unit signaling that all of his team were listening to the conversation. There was only one Corian female born for every four Corian males, so only the best and brightest among them would ever manage to win a mate. While the Doranos could claim a much higher female population, the males still far outnumbered the females two to one. Advancement through warrior service was the best chance many of them had at attracting a mate. And the odds still weren’t good.

  “With all due respect, sir, they don’t need to grant us the right,” Calyx said earnestly.

  “Of course they do. They’re the highest authority in the CORANOS galaxies,” Vank replied.

  “Yes, but we’re not in a CORANOS galaxy, sir. We’re in the Milky Way galaxy – or so I’m told the Earthers call it. Technically, the highest authority in the galaxy is…”

  “General Darvan,” Skylan supplied.

  “Darvan is the first son in our line and the youngest Corian ever to hold the title Galactic General of a CORANOS Armada. He’s guaranteed his choice of females. I don’t believe he’ll have any sympathy for our plight,” Vank said drily.

  “He’s going to need more than sympathy,” Skylan interjected. “Once the other warriors find out…”

  “Some of the females in the camps are very attractive,” Calyx continued to make his case. “And this one that we’re tracking... What male wouldn’t want all that ingenuity focused on pleasing him?”

  “I’d certainly like the chance to tame such a wild little thing,” Silex agreed.

  “How do we even know this law still stands?” Bram broke in skeptically.

  “I ran a search against the CORANOS databases before we left Corian space,” Calyx said. “The law hasn’t been repealed.”

  “You could tell him that the ranks found out about the right to claim and are threatening to revolt,” Silex sounded ready to do just that. “There were hundreds of thousands of females in those camps, Vank. They came in half-starved and in serious need of medical care. My female wouldn’t want for such basic necessities.”

  “Let me give this some thought,” Vank hedged. He often made light of his brother, General Darvan’s, vaunted station and charmed life. But, the truth was, Darvan always bore the weight of responsibility without complaint, leaving his four younger brothers free to enjoy the privileges of their family’s wealth and station. Vank was reluctant to add to Darvan’s concerns with so much riding on this campaign.

  “Don’t think too long about it,” Skylan urged. “I believe you’ll find this is a very time-sensitive issue.”

  Chapter Three

  Silently assessing her surroundings, she patted her black combat vest and pants pockets to make sure everything was in its place. She checked her weapons and clasped her pack straps around her waist. To be safe, she checked her pockets once more. Pockets: the survivalist’s best friend.

  Pulling her balaclava over her dirty blonde hair, she was determined to find another possible entrance to the cavern system. She’d had high hopes for that brewery cave but found it was effectively sealed off from the rest of the caverns.

  Stealthily threading her way through the rubble of the old building, Arianna stayed alert. She knew she had to make good time before the moon rose higher in the sky. Tonight it would be full and the cloud cover from the previous night’s storm had blown away.

  Her stomach gave a painful rumble reminding her that she needed to find food before she went much further. Her once healthy figure was now what her mother would have politely referred to as delicate. Arianna knew she looked like a walking cadaver and, after translating the ciphered note from the Arch drop, she felt half-dead as well.

  The note, authored by one Stephen Eagleson, was almost two months old. The note’s age was discouraging. If there were other free humans in this part of the world, they’d be checking the drop sites more often. Since the war had started, geocaching had been the most widely utilized and reliable way to disseminate information without alerting the authorities.

  Eagleson believed he was being hunted by the aliens. Also a bad sign. The alien teams that collected large groups of people had hit simultaneously from what she could gather. The smaller hunting parties like she’d encountered at the farm house must be tracking smaller groups or individuals.

  The note reported that Steve hadn’t seen another living person for six weeks before making his drop. It had been longer than that since she’d last seen another traveler. She longed for human contact but often detoured around anyplace that looked like it might be occupied by more than one traveler. People huddled in groups this time of year were sure to generate enough heat to cause a blip on the CORANOS scans. She fought off the sense of panic that crept up on her whenever she thought she might not ever see another person again. She had to focus on getting to the next possible cavern entrance.

  Creeping steadily along in the irregular shadows of the toppled buildings, Arianna nearly screamed when something darted across the open space in front of her. Her left hand immediately unsheathed the blade at her waist, while her right smoothly drew the old-fashioned Glock 19 from her thigh holster. Her clumsy childhood had given way to a proficiency in self-defense and various types of weaponry. Look at me, Belle. I’m not such a klutz these days.

  She moved into a defensive position near a pile of rubble abutting a short bit of still-standing wall. Carefully re-sheathing her knife, she drew a pen-sized telescoping mirror from her left breast pocket. Arianna sent the mirror around the corner of her wall near the base with practiced ease. She stifled a nervous giggle at the startled doe prancing about in the reflection.

  Wait a minute. A deer?

  Maybe it really was just a deer that meandered into the city. Then decided to chase her. It could happen. If the deer were rabid, maybe.

  Stuffing her mirror back into her pocket, she grabbed the butt of her Glock with both hands and began a speedy, virtually soundless retreat. Something scrapped the broken pavement behind her.

  Arianna dove into a shadowed opening low between two large pieces of broken concrete, hoping to hide there until the threat passed.

  A loud click sounded followed by the humming buzz of electricity.

  Goddamned aliens and their pain-in-the-ass energy fields.

  Blue light seemed to materialize over the entrance to her hiding place. Arianna snatched her mirror back out of her pocket and quickly placed the mirrored surface as close to the field as she dared. She’d seen
this done…once. Placing the muzzle of her Glock right against the mirrored surface, she turned her head to avoid the exploding glass and pulled the trigger. The shards of coated glass sizzled as they magnified and reflected the field’s energy surge back at the source. With a loud pop, the field collapsed in on itself.

  She dove back out into the street but her body never hit the ground. Something was holding her up by the top handle of her backpack. Using her fists and nails she began scratching and punching at the giant fleshy fist that seemed to have seized her.

  “Enough!” her captor roared.

  Going limp, Arianna let the brute have the full force of her weight. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but she wasn’t going to make this easy on the bastards. Slowly, she was lifted to face the alien like a disobedient puppy dangling by the scruff of its neck. The alien’s frightening metallic eyes were suddenly glowing close enough to cause her to flinch. Reflexively, she struck out with the butt of her gun. Catching the big bastard in his temple with her blow, she was unprepared for the incredibly long drop to the ground.

  Scary Eyes howled and immediately grabbed for her again. Apparently, she needed to work on her pistol whipping technique. She could have shot him but her goal was escape. She didn’t want to give them further reason to pursue.

  Just as she gained her feet and braced to run, another giant materialized out of the shadows. He grabbed her upper arms in a steel hard grasp and stripped the gun from her hand.

  “Let. Me. Go.” She growled when he swung her around to face his bloodied friend.

  Fun fact: alien blood is red, too.

  “Got you pretty good, didn’t it?” the one holding her said in English tinged with a funny accent.

  English?

  “Violent little fiend,” Scary Eyes agreed.

  Ariana’s eyes narrowed at the offhanded insult. She’d show them a violent little fiend. Stepping back into her captor’s insole, she thrust both elbows into his body. Ooops! That might have been his crotch. Simultaneously, she picked up her feet, dropping all her weight against his grip. She knew she’d surprised more than injured him so she hit the ground running this time.