Rise the Renegade (Rork Sollix Book 1)

by George Donnelly

  “They will pay us ten-thousand dalrots for you,” the girl said. “Be patient. We will take you to the police soon.” Her feet turned and made towards the door.

  “They’ll kill you! It’s a trick!” Rork yelled. The pain in his side peaked but the dust in his eye was more stubborn.

  The boy’s sandal moved into view again and kicked a shower of dust into the cage. Rork turned his head just in time.

  “We’re not that stupid!” The boy walked out, the girl stepping lightly ahead of him in neon yellow rubber boots and a trailing midnight blue skirt. The boy slammed the door behind him.

  “Rork?”

  His heart soared. “Are you alright?” She was here with him, but where? He still had a chance to safeguard her. If only he could escape the cage.

  “I’m a little uncomfortable,” Lala said.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in a small cage, raised a little off the floor.”

  “Metal top, real close to your face?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Alright, hold on. I’ll figure something out.” He arched his head up to look at the bars behind him. It must have a door and if it has a door, it can be opened. He only saw bars. He pulled his hands apart. It was no good. He twisted his wrists against each other but the plastic rope only dug deeper and burned his raw skin.

  “Baby?”

  “Just be patient. I’m working on it!” He raised his head and looked down past his feet. There was a string tied around two bars at the bottom of the cage. The bars were too close together. That was it. He pulled his legs up and the cramp returned. He groaned and push them back down again.

  “Want me to try something?”

  “No, I got this.” He gritted his teeth. He pulled his legs up into his side. The cramp returned. He grunted. He used one booted foot to push off the other boot. He flexed his big toe up and reached for the string.

  A hand reached down and tickled his foot with its short, pink fingernails.

  He started and hit his forehead on the thick metal. “What the...!”

  Lala’s smiling face appeared just beyond his foot. She giggled and pulled on the string. The long, low door swung open with a high-pitched squeal. She tugged on his foot.

  “How the hell did you do that?”

  She grabbed just above his knee and pulled. He rocked his body from side to side and inched out. Out of the cage, he stood up, got his boot back on and massaged his aching calves.

  “They put me in the bigger cage. I was able to wiggle more.” She shrugged and looked up at him, biting her lower lip.

  His eyes locked with hers. “You’re really something.”

  “I love you, Rork Sollix.” She said it with a pretensionless neutrality, as if she were telling him that two plus two couldn’t be anything other than four.

  Rork looked away, a hot inadequacy burning his face. He remembered the papers. He eased them out of the hiding spot in his belt and handed the stiff, too-many-times-folded documents to her.

  Her eyes followed his every move. She fixed her hair but didn’t offer to receive the papers.

  “Your manumission papers. I had them notarized on Isotania. I’m sorry it took so long but I wasn’t sure if...”

  She fixed her clothes, glanced up at him and received the papers. “So, I’m free? Completely free?”

  He nodded. He wanted to say more but his throat had seized up again. The tears massed in his eyes and he blinked them back.

  She threw her arms around his ribs and buried her cheek in his chest.

  “It’s okay, you can go now.”

  She pushed back. “So you were leading me on?”

  “No. I’m just saying—”

  “You don’t love me. Do you?” She studied one eye, then the other. “You just felt sorry for me. This was all pity.” She stepped back again, still searching his face.

  “No! Please, not again.”

  “Tell me you love me!” She shoved him. “Admit it! You love a servant girl!”

  “You know that has nothing to do with it. And you’re free now, anyway.”

  “Just because you’re sick? Just when you need me the most?”

  “He said I had days. You heard him. Barbary will punish you for my actions after I’m gone. I can’t…”

  “I don’t care! Just love me, even if—”

  “I do. But it’s not enough.” He waved her silent and looked around for something sharp to free his hands. It was a small storage room, with chickens in coops from floor to ceiling to their right. A quick scan turned up nothing sharp. “How did you...?”

  “Slipped right out.” She held up her hands and shrugged.

  “Let’s—”

  She grabbed his arm and scowled at him. “I’m not done talking.”

  “What?”

  “A plan maybe? I don’t know.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Step one: get out of here!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the door. The thin sheet of rotting particle board listed away from the jamb. He poked his nose through the gap and looked around. There was a narrow alley overgrown with weeds. Two deep ruts ran its length and curved around out of his view. He stepped out, pulling her behind him.

  “Hey!” The boy stepped out of shadow on Rork’s right. He raised a long blade above his head.

  Rork took off. He planted his foot in a rut and let go of Lala. It twisted and he fell on his back. The boy was on him and brought the blade down.

  Rork rolled out of the way. The blade hit the loose dirt with a dull swish. Rork rolled his legs back and laid them on top of the knife. He punched the surprised boy in the teeth. The kid let go of the blade and fell backwards. Rork launched himself forward and landed a knee on the kid’s chest. He grabbed the blade from behind him and put it to his attacker’s neck.

  The kid looked up at him, his eyes too wide, too white, his body too thin.

  How did this stick figure ever get the drop on me? Rork remembered the helicopter crash. Immigration had to be after them. Maybe even the EDF. This kid and his girlfriend likely did them a favor. If not for their pathetic kidnap attempt, he and Lala would almost certainly be in prison.

  “Rork!” Lala screamed.

  He looked up. She hopped up and down where the rutted alley curved. She pointed beyond him. “Rork!”

  A flat, circular EDF vessel hovered over the marshes between them and the spaceport. A leaner attack fighter launched from the massive ship’s underside and zoomed down to within a dozen meters of them. He tasted dust again and lost sight of her.

  He rose to run to Lala but the boy grabbed at his shirt.

  “I can hide you. They won’t find you.”

  Rork punched his arm away and ran up the alley, his foot slipping in the deep, muddy ruts.

  Lala squatted, her arms wrapped tight around her knees next to a low, white picket fence.

  He dropped the blade, grabbed her hand and pulled. They ran around the corner. Ahead, he spied a wider, paved cross street. Aircars, cabs and enclosed cargo carriers crossed their narrow gap of hope. He increased his pace but her little legs couldn’t keep up. She slipped and fell face-forward.

  Rork turned back and pulled her up. She shot him a look that said it all. This wasn’t what she signed up for. She signed up to love a daring space pirate who could handle himself in a fight, not a terminally ill, dirtbound renegade wannabe.

  “I can’t...” she muttered.

  He wanted to know where they went wrong, loathe himself for an hour or a week, but he pumped his legs as fast as she would let him. They were just a dozen meters from the street now. He would turn right and plunge into the crowd. He’d find a cargo carrier.

  A man stepped from between two shacks just meters from the market avenue. He wore a wide, flat-brimmed black hat and a long, black overcoat. His face was obscured with large, reflective sunglasses.

  Lala stopped short. Rork tried to continue.

  The black-hatted man pulled a long pistol from underneath his
coat and Rork smelled burning hair. He let go of her, stepped to the side and ran his hands over his head.

  “In the name of Gamil Barbary, Sr. and in revenge for the life of his son, Gamil Barbary, Jr.” The black-hatted man stalked forward towards Rork.

  Heat assaulted Rork’s right cheek. He grabbed her and ran back the opposite way. He smelled burning hair again and his left thigh ached and weakened.

  The kid popped out from between two shacks ahead of them. “Come on! We will help you!”

  Rork pulled Lala into the narrow opening. They ran a dozen meters, turned left, then right and right once more.

  Lala slipped and fell into a puddle that reeked of urine. She screamed and looked up at him, her hands out.

  I’ll spend the rest of my life fixing this, somehow, even if she isn’t with me. Just give me the time. Rork turned into a shack and pursued the lithe boy through a dark maze that spanned perhaps dozens of the hovels.

  They stopped in an empty room with an uneven dirt floor and no windows. One lighted bulb hung from the ceiling on a thin cable.

  “Who are you?” The yellow-booted girl emerged from a shadowy corner into the light. She was thin, too, and young. Perhaps no older than Lala.

  And there was Buff, on her shoulder. The little guy jumped to Lala. She caught and snuggled him against her cheek.

  Rork found himself drawn to this Indian girl. Tall and too thin, her grooming was impeccable. Her long, black hair hung straight down the back of her head. She seemed oddly trustworthy despite the fact that she’d put him in that cage and plotted to sell him.

  “We’re just a young couple seeking a better future, perhaps like you two,” the girl said.

  “We’re brother and sister.” The boy stepped forward. His brown eyes, in shocking contrast with the pure white that surrounded them, settled on Lala.

  The roof rattled as a craft passed overhead. A sliver of sunlight invaded the room for a heartbeat before disappearing again. The room was empty except for a tall, narrow cabinet in the corner to Rork’s left. Heavy footsteps fell in near-unison outside.

  Lala stared at the boy, her head inclined to one side. She began to smile.

  Rork interlaced his fingers with hers and pulled her back towards the entrance. “Thank you. We have to go.” He walked backwards two steps and turned his back to them.

  “You are the pirate Rork, are you not?” asked the girl.

  Rork stopped short. He glanced at Lala. “No, sorry, wrong guy.”

  The wall to Rork’s left disappeared and a rush of air pushed Lala into him. The black-hatted man stood thirty meters away to their right. In front of them, an Earth Defense Force fighter hovered silently. A dozen men kneeled and stood below it, their long, black laser rifles pointed at them.

  One black-haired man, his belly pushing through the velcro closures of his white and green striped shirt, stepped from around the corner to face Rork. “Indian Immigration. All four of you are under arrest.”

  7

  “I KIDNAPPED her. I swear to you that the blue-haired woman is my kidnap victim. I considered raping and murdering her, too. She needs counseling and relocation assistance. She hasn’t done anything wrong.” Rork pushed back from the flimsy, particle-board table and stood up. Dust flitted through the twilight air. “I confess to it all!”

  The guard put a hand on Rork’s shoulder and pushed him back down into the shaky plastic chair. The interrogation cell was narrow. The floor was dirty and cracked but at least it wasn’t a dusty hovel. If he could get his captors to buy his story, Lala would get her second chance. What happened to him was unimportant.

  He closed his eyes and felt Lala’s cool, smooth touch on his cheek. For a fleeting second, he felt the rich scented vanilla of her perfume. Then it was gone and he wanted it again. But it wouldn’t come. It might never come again.

  A door opened in the mirror that faced him and a chocolate-skinned woman walked through. She wore a form-fitting bright yellow blouse and pencil skirt with a crimson sash. Her slick black hair curved forward towards her eyes in a steady wave then rolled rollickingly back over the top of her head and down to her neckline. She sat down across from Rork and smiled up at him, ruby red lips revealing perfect teeth.

  “I am Attorney General for the Indian Realm, Sophia Patel. You admit that you are the pirate Rork Sollix?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You are the subject of the Barbary warrant for piracy?”

  “Sounds right. Yes.” He scratched his wrists under the restraints.

  “Do you admit to the charges?” She openly studied his face.

  “Ye— What will you do with the blue-haired woman?”

  She flashed her teeth at him and breathed in deeply. “Lala Fevari, right? You want her to go free?”

  “She’s my victim. I was going to rape her. She needs help.”

  “Madam AG,” said a male voice over the intercom, “the prisoner is lying to you. The woman fought us more than this pirate did.”

  The AG motioned him to silence, her face grim. She looked back at Rork and smiled.

  “She has Stockholm syndrome. I held her too long. I regret it. You have to help her! Help her and I will do whatever you want.”

  “Whatever I want?” The AG sat up straight and cleared her throat. She stood up, crossed to the other side of the table and reclined on it, her bare thigh touching Rork’s naked arm. She blinked both eyes at once at him.

  Her long, thin legs, her ample breasts, the soft, brown face... Rork rose to her instinctively. But the thought of touching another woman horrified him. This wasn’t about finding someone different. He belonged to his blue-haired girl. He steeled his will and looked away.

  The AG laughed. “The legendary pirate betrayed by a teeny’s puppy love?” She leaned in and caressed his cheek, her ruby red lips brushing over his. “Don’t you recognize me? I was in The Szyzantic Variable. It opened simultaneously across the whole system, even in the Jefferson Realm mining colonies.”

  He shrugged. Movies bored him.

  The AG emitted a guttural croak. She threw herself off the table and crossed to the other side, her shoes cracking on the hard floor. “I will release the child. You will stay. We will see if you can appreciate the attentions of a real woman.” She spoke to the guard outside. “Return him to the cell, then release prisoner Lala Fevari.”

  A hand wrapped around Rork’s neck from behind. He fell to one side. The guard steadied him, then directed him towards the door opposite the mirrored wall. “Move, prisoner!”

  Rork shuffle-walked, chains clinking, in a narrow corridor between two, long cages. Arms grabbed at him through the bars. Bald heads with scarred faces leered and yelled threats.

  The guard opened the door to the last cage on the right and kicked him into it. Rork fell to his knees. Lala ran and caught him before his nose connected with the pockmarked cement.

  “They’re going to free you. Get out and get far away from me. Find your seastead. Have ten kids, just with someone else. Promise me you’ll do it.”

  Lala frowned at him, her eyes red and puffy. “No.”

  “This is your chance. I did it. I got you here. Blend in. Find a new man, a better one. Build a life. Change your name. Do what you have to but live, Lala. Live!”

  She shook her head and sobbed. “I won’t.”

  “Let’s go!” the guard yelled from behind Rork.

  “Just go. Forget about me.”

  Lala threw herself at him and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. “I love you! Stop pushing me away!” She kissed his cheek. Her lips, wet with tears, sought his mouth.

  Rork turned away from her. “You’re still young. You’ll start over, better.”

  The guard entered and pried her hands from his back. Another guard ran in and grabbed her other shoulder. They dragged her toward the door. She kicked the floor.

  “I can’t see our future anymore, baby,” she whispered from the other side of the bars.

  The second guard
let go of her and slammed the cell door closed.

  Rork looked away.

  “What about his meds? He needs meds!” she screamed.

  The guards dragged her past the interrogation room. A heavy door creaked open, then slammed shut, the impact echoing through the block with a lonely finality.

  Rork found the far, rear corner of the cell, below the narrow slit of window and collapsed into it. He closed his eyes. He’d be dead soon. The sickness would claim him.

  It was fine by him. May it come quickly. Jupiter, I just want to die now. I can’t stand it anymore. His chest ached. The icy chill of the refrigerated cell leached into his toes and they cramped up. He ignored it. He didn’t care.

  “We want to be pirates, like you.” It was the yellow-booted girl.

  Rork kept his eyes closed. “Whatever you have now, it may seem like nothing to you, but it’s better than where I ended up.”

  “The Cartel took our family, all forty-seven of them: uncles, cousins, our father and mother. The government knows. The EDF helps them. Those metal shacks? Five thousand people lived there. Now there is no one. We escaped but soon they will clear that area. And they took our papers.”

  He looked up at the girl. She was simple and authentic, without pretension or accoutrement. “What’s your name?”

  “Anju. My brother is Devi.” She kneeled down in front of him. “We will do whatever you command.”

  Rork pointed to the left side of his chest. “Anorxoma. Right here. You know what that is?”

  Anju nodded. She looked up at her brother.

  “What if we can heal that?” Devi approached, his arms folded in front of him. He evinced an air of authority that contradicted his emaciated frame.

  “It’s untreatable. You can have my body when I’m dead. I’m sure they’ll drop it on a scrap heap out there somewhere. Don’t worry. I’ll tell them I kidnapped you, too.”

  Devi turned his back to Rork.

  Anju stepped closer and touched his shoulder. “They’ll put us on the trainship to the mining outposts.” She smiled with pity in her eyes for him. “We’ll be dead, too.”