by Gregg Vann
“We will,” the old woman replied.
She pushed her hood back and it fell down around her shoulders, exposing a face deeply etched with wrinkles, and thin, silvery hair cropped midway down her neck. The woman fixed Sergeant Dura with a piercing look, an unmistakable gaze of appraisal.
“It really is true then, isn’t it? Some of our people say they saw the Great Betrayer with their own eyes…that he’s truly come back to us.”
“It’s true,” Dura replied. “Let everyone know that the time is near. We are going to take Le’sant from the Collective. Sergeant Barent will be here soon, and we must be ready. Tell the downtrodden to prepare themselves as best they can.”
“I will make sure the whole of the Outland knows, Warden.”
As the old woman walked away, the crowd began stripping the bodies of the Collective soldiers. Then Corporal Vane strode over to join his fellow Wardens, pulling the floating billboard behind him with one hand.
“How do you know that Barent will be here soon?” Vane asked.
Dura lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Because if he’s not, the Collective will surely kill us all. Now, let’s get that thing out of here so we can repurpose it.”
“To do what?” Kina asked.
“To help us find Sergeant Barent,” Dura replied.
“Or more correctly, to help him find us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Power Shift
“I still don’t understand any of this,” Tana said. “So now the Exiles just magically do whatever you tell them to?”
She leaned forward in her chair and a few strands of hair pulled loose from Tana’s ponytail, falling down over her eyes. She reached up and ran her fingers through them, bundling her hair back up again, and then Tana tightened the white band holding it all in place.
“It’s called a pack mentality,” Barent explained. “A hierarchy generally found in the animal kingdom. But it’s prevalent in prison populations as well, and has been for millennia. I’m familiar with the mindset from my dealings with the convicts, and the rules are pretty simple: if you can prove that you’re the strongest, you lead. It’s just that easy. He who asserts dominance through violence, rules. Until someone stronger comes along, of course.”
“Which could be five minutes from now,” Tana said.
Barent could tell she understood the concept well enough, but Tana was having a hard time grasping the nuances of how it all worked in practice.
“In theory, yes. But that’s not very likely. Astok was strong enough to unite all of the tribes together, and no one has ever done that before.”
“And you killed him,” Tana said, finishing Barent’s thought.
“Yes. But I got lucky. That fight could have easily gone the other way, and almost did. Regardless, Astok’s reputation, even more than my own skill, should keep anyone from challenging me for some time.”
“And if they do?” Tana asked.
“Then I will have to kill them,” Barent replied. “Or get killed myself in the attempt.”
The Olin medic treating Barent’s wounds packed up his things, and then he nodded to each of them in turn before leaving the tent. Tana got up and walked over to the table where Barent was seated, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“For not allowing Astok to become my new boyfriend.”
Tana gave him a playful smirk, but there was a great deal of warmth behind it. “I’m not used to being rescued, Barent. Since I was a child, I’ve been responsible for my own safety. Trust…and depending on other people. Well, those things don’t come easy for me.”
“I understand,” Barent said. “When I was in the military back on Earth we looked out for each other. I depended on my fellow soldiers to watch my back, and I did the same for them. There was never any doubt or equivocation, only unconditional support. But on this planet, the guards were all mercenaries. Most of them were only here for the money, or running away from something in their past. I learned quickly that on Torvus, I could only depend on myself.”
Barent took in a deep breath and immediately regretted it, wincing from the pain. The Olin medic had speculated that some of his ribs might be fractured, and Barent was inclined to agree. He gave Tana a weak smile and continued.
“But when the Pardon War broke out I found myself surrounded by a new group of comrades, and unlikely ones at that. And even though I’ve since learned that a few of them betrayed me, the ones who were loyal saved my life on numerous occasions. Hell, one of them even went so far as to fake my death, just to keep me alive. As you well know.”
Barent took one of Tana’s hands in his own. “It’s good to have people around that are looking out for you, Tana. And there’s nothing wrong with placing your trust in the right person. So why don’t you and I protect each other from now on?”
“I think I’d like that, Barent.”
“Good,” he replied. “Then don’t ever let anyone kick my ass like that again, please.”
Tana draped her arms over Barent’s shoulders and kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Barent reached out to hold her and they grew lost in the embrace. They’d been on the run since the moment they first met, dodging one danger after another with little thought but survival. Those experiences, and the night they’d shared together in the tent, forged a genuine bond between them. And surviving the battle with the Exiles had only reinforced those burgeoning emotions. They were both smart enough to realize that if everything went according to plan, things were only going to get worse now. There would be war in their immediate future, and survival still had to dominate their thoughts. But at that moment, in a tent staked to the soil of a frozen planet more dangerous than any of their enemies, there was only the two of them.
For the briefest of moments.
Renik burst into the tent without bothering to announce his presence first, followed closely by a large Exile named S’to. The two were looking at each other warily, as if expecting to fight to the death at any second, but Barent knew there was no danger of the battle erupting again. He’d already ordered the Exiles to stand down and remain outside the Olin camp, and they’d done so without hesitation.
All of them…except for S’to.
The Exile had approached Barent as they were dragging Astok’s body away for rendering, identifying himself as the dead Alpha’s second-in-command. Barent recognized him as the lone Exile reluctant to kneel after he’d won the fight with Astok, and knew that if S’to did have any designs on the Alpha status, he would have made his move then. Every warrior understood that it was best to take an opponent when he was weak, not after he’d had a chance to recover from his injuries and rebuild his strength. But S’to had passed on that opportunity and taken a knee instead, so Barent instructed him to retain his position as Second—knowing it would make the overall transition of power easier, and that it made sense to have someone close to him that wasn’t itching to slit his throat.
Tana backed away from Barent as the two men approached and he hopped down from the table, holding up a finger.
“One moment, please, Renik. What is it S’to?”
“Where do you want Astok’s possessions?” the Exile asked gruffly.
“How much is there?”
“Much. But your wives can supervise the relocation of everything. They just need to know where to put it.”
“Wives?” Barent said.
“Astok claimed the three of them when he bested their mates,” S’to explained. “Some of the chieftains he defeated to build this tribe. Like his other possessions, the women now belong to you.”
“I see,” Barent said.
He looked over at Tana and was relieved to see the amusement on her face.
“Have everything brought here and placed inside one of the larger tents until I decide.”
A quick glance at Renik prompted the Olin to nod his assent.
“As you say, Alph
a,” S’to replied.
“And call me Barent.”
“As you say, Barent.”
“I want the tribe ready to leave by tomorrow. It will be a long journey, so be certain we are well supplied.”
“I will see that it’s done,” S'to replied, and then he spun around and walked out of the tent.
“I wish our people followed orders as well as they do,” Renik said. “I’ve never seen such obedience.”
Barent leaned back against the table and smiled. “Yes, but the trade-off is that they won’t hesitate to kill me at the first sign of weakness. And your people seem to do well enough without such rigid structure, Renik. In fact, they’re so damn self-reliant that I was surprised to find anyone in authority.”
“Lusani inherited a great deal of respect due to her lineage, Sergeant Barent, but she wasn’t an absolute ruler. We Olin handle disputes and dispense justice among ourselves—between individuals and homesteads. But Lusani and her predecessors helped lead us against the Exiles when it became necessary, and they provided much needed organization so we could fight together as a group. We admired Lusani for her skills, Barent, but many of us always resented her hereditary status. That’s no longer an issue now, though. She was the last living descendant of the Olin’s captain.”
“I see,” Barent said. “So what can I do for you, Renik?”
“The question is what are you going to do to us?” he replied. “The Olin have asked me to lead in this matter, Sergeant Barent. And I tell you clearly: we will fight to our last breath if you intend to unleash the Exiles on us again. I promise you that. We have called everyone down from the spires. Gathered all of our—”
Barent held up a hand to stop him. “As long as I command the Exiles, the Olin have nothing to fear from them. In fact, Renik, I was rather hoping we could form an alliance with your people.”
Barent was still exhausted from his battle with Astok, so he sat back down on the table again, resting his legs while he awaited the Olin’s reply.
Renik was noticeably relieved.
“Lusani told me about the Le’sant’s fate, Barent. And about your intentions to take the city.”
“And?”
Renik sat down next to him and the Olin’s expression shifted from concern to curiosity. “I’ve read most of your writings, Sergeant Barent. That book was very enlightening. Do you really believe in this universal equality? That every man should be afforded the exact same treatment and opportunities, regardless of class, parentage, or wealth?”
“Unless they’ve done something to lose that right, like committing a crime—then, yes. But how can you be so surprised by the notion, Renik? It seems to me that the Olin already practice it.”
“I suppose we do, at that. Other than the power Lusani wielded over larger affairs, all Olin share the exact same rights and responsibilities, enjoying equal access to everything the ship provides. But I know that’s only possible because we have an over-abundance of resources, Barent. If our population grew too large, or disease wiped out a portion of the crops or animals, the new pressures would change everything. As it is now, if you’re hungry, you eat. You have only to work a small plot of land, or hunt caribou if you wish. If you want to construct a home, you pick out a place no one else is using and build it. Even up in the spires people have small gardens and livestock. As do those hardy Olin who moved out onto the surface, building the greenhouses and other structures necessary to become self-sufficient—in many cases, just so they could be left alone. But if things changed, and our resources somehow became constrained, we would need some form of organization—an actual government, perhaps—to help manage them. So we could control the distribution of what we had left for the benefit of everyone. If not, the violence would be staggering as everyone fought each other just to survive.”
“I believe you’re right,” Barent said. “About everything. In fact, I believe governments are inevitable—an inescapable necessity. But they should never be an end unto themselves, because the institutions that comprise them create almost as many problems as they do solutions. There is no perfect form of government, Renik. I should know; I lived under quite a few different types back on Earth. Each has its own set of strengths and weaknesses, but it’s my firm belief that if you provide a level playing field for everyone, it does away with a lot of the inherent disparities that exist in every political system.”
“And how will you deal with those disparities in Le’sant, Sergeant Barent? A million people…” Renik shook his head. “How will you fix all of those problems?”
Barent replied without hesitation. “By force—at first, and then with a new government when the bullets stop flying. One that benefits all of the people.”
He placed his hand on Renik’s shoulder. “It would be good to have the Olin at my side for this. I watched them during the battle, and your people are disciplined and effective warriors. And you no longer have to fear the Exiles, Renik. I control them now. Besides, they’re leaving with me for the city. Send a force of Olin along as well, to bolster my numbers, and when this war is over Le’sant will help bring the Olin back to life, as much or as little as you like. And even if you plan to leave the ship as it is, you can still benefit from Le’sant’s production facilities—to create snowcraft, like mine, or other technology that will make the lives of your people better.”
“In exchange for?”
“Food. Supply us with everything we need to construct our own farms, and teach us how best to cultivate the crops and livestock. That’s it. It’s the only thing the people of Le’sant lack.”
Renik leaned forward in contemplation, staring at the distant wall of the tent. “You really expect my people to fight alongside the Exiles, Sergeant Barent? They have been our mortal enemy for centuries.”
“But how much easier would life be with them as allies instead? Or if not allies…then at least no longer adversaries. How much better would things be without that constant threat of war hanging over your head—a never-ending conflict that hasn’t benefited either side. Share the Olin’s bounty with the Exiles, Renik. And they can trade you caribou meat in return. You can still hunt for sport, of course, but think of the time and effort you’ll save by not sending massive expeditions out across the plains.”
Renik remained silent, but his expression made it clear he was carefully considering Barent’s words, mulling the future implications of each suggested course of action. When he finally spoke, there was weariness in Renik’s voice.
“Lusani told me what she witnessed as a child, and I would like to see a city like that for myself. But the most I can possibly pledge to you is fifteen thousand troops, and some of those are injured. We suffered heavy losses here today, Sergeant Barent, and collected far too many testaments for the Vade.”
“I understand,” he replied. “And would gladly welcome fifteen thousand Olin warriors.”
“How many Exiles do you command?” Renik asked him.
“As I’m told, around eighteen thousand.”
“And how big is the military force in Le’sant?”
“Fifty thousand,” Tana answered. “And they’re equipped with all of the latest technology, including armored vehicles and advanced weaponry.”
“The odds are not in our favor, Sergeant Barent.”
“No, Renik. They’re not. But I do expect to gather more support once we reach the city. How much, though, is anyone’s guess.”
“And if we lose this war?”
Barent gave the Olin a confident grin.
“That shouldn’t concern us at all, Renik.”
“Because if we lose, we’ll both be dead.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Way Down
Barent cautiously peered over the edge of the snowdrift and down into the shallow depression, watching as a dozen or so caribou casually dug at the terrestrial lichen seeded into the soil by the first generation of Olin. So far, his group had managed to escape detection by the skittish animals. And Barent urged e
veryone to remain as quiet as possible to keep from spooking them.
He scanned out beyond the creatures to take in the landscape, still in shock over how much everything had changed as they ventured further away from the crater wall. The snow had given way to patches of bare ground and open tundra, where sparse vegetation and sickly looking twigs marked areas transformed by the Olin. Torvus was still as far from paradise as one could wander, but it was no longer the sterile planet Barent had first set foot on.
“It’s like an entirely different world out here,” he whispered to Tana.
She, Renik, and S’to, were all crouched down at the outer edge of the depression with him. And while Barent could see that Tana shared his fascination with the animals and countryside, the other two looked completely bored by the scene.
“Our ancestors made the best of a very bad situation,” Renik said. Then he gestured in the direction of the grazing caribou. “This is a result of their efforts to prepare the planet’s soil in different locations, all across the plains, and to seed those areas with various types of plant life. The caribou, and the other smaller animals roaming free out here, would never have survived without the hard work of the Olin.”
“The Exiles had a hand in it as well,” S’to interjected. “This field, in particular.”
“Of course,” Renik conceded.
Barent continued watching the caribou feed for a few more peaceful moments, almost forgetting where he was.
This spot could easily be somewhere in the arctic, he thought to himself. It’s almost like being back on Earth.
“From what I can tell,” Barent said quietly, “the caribou have bred exceptionally well. It may be more work to hunt them down in the wild, but unlike the domesticated animals kept inside the Olin, these populations are self-sustaining. Now that the environment has been adapted to their needs, of course. The colony designers certainly knew what they were doing when they modified these animals, especially the accelerated gestation cycles and reduced dietary requirements.”
“The plants benefitted from their tampering as well,” Renik added. “Both inside and outside the ship. Each of them designed to require less soil and water, yet yield much greater harvests.”