by Sarah Noffke
Lars stared down at the bowl of nuts at his feet. Sitting awkwardly on the ground, he eyed the women around the fire, who were all regarding him with cautious glares. He knew he reminded them of Rosco simply because they were both Kezzin. They didn’t know that many residents of Kezza were honest, hardworking farmers who desired a peaceful life.
Lars was reminded of a quote he had read that morning during his daily meditations. Stephen Hawking said, “The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge.” People thought they knew the Kezzin, based on their limited knowledge of the less attractive acts performed by some of the race, so they often underestimated the rest of them and held many biases.
Maybe in time, he could change that.
“Sort out the nuts from the rocks,” the woman who had greeted them ordered. They’d learned her name was Vera.
Lars snapped back to himself and nodded, obediently pulling the bowl closer to him.
“You said that Rosco attacked the islands? Why?” Nona asked, sorting through a bowl of berries, her attention on the large woman.
Vera had taken a seat and gotten to work, weaving green vines. The men had moved off to the side to chop wood, but kept their eyes on the group.
“Because he’s a power-hungry brute,” Vera said. “For centuries, we’ve lived on these three islands, able to sustain a healthy balance by carefully borrowing resources from Anara, the main island, and the surrounding waters. We left Anara uninhabited and only took what we needed, even replanting the trees we chopped down. A year ago, Rosco set up a camp on that island. We confronted him, explaining how life in the Cantjik Sea is best preserved.” Hostile outrage flared on the old woman’s face as she wove more furiously.
Lars stared down at his bowl, realizing he hadn’t been sorting. Nona, on the other hand, was almost through the berries, apparently having no trouble multitasking. It made him feel slightly better that Fletcher’s hands were idle as he stared intently at their storyteller.
“He did not take your input thoughtfully,” Fletcher guessed.
Vera shook her head. “He slaughtered many of our people and stripped our islands of valuable resources, then he burned them to the ground.”
Lars sucked in a short breath, a nut cracking in his fingers from a burst of anger.
“I’m sorry,” Nona said, bowing her head thoughtfully.
“I am too,” Vera stated, her tone hot. “We are slow to rebuild, having lost so much and fearing his return.”
“Which is why you live on the beach,” Lars guessed, gauging their proximity to the sea, where fishing boats were tethered.
Vera nodded. “We don’t know another way. We can’t survive another attack. Fighting him only leads to our end…We have to be ready to flee if and when he returns.”
“Hopefully you will never have to,” Fletcher stated, his words full of conviction.
“Do you know how many men he has around his compound?” Nona asked.
“Not many,” Vera stated. “I’ve only ever seen a dozen or so men at any given time.”
Nona looked to Fletcher hopefully. “Put me in a tree, and I can take out most of those men, especially with a diversion. Then you can get into the compound and get to Rosco.”
Vera shook her head. “Rosco isn’t in the compound.”
“He isn’t?” Fletcher asked, surprised.
“That’s only where he keeps his stockpile,” Vera explained. “He’s in a cave on the northern tip of the island.”
Lars smiled inside, grateful that they’d taken the detour to this island. They would not have thought to check the caves on their own, and Rosco would have had a chance to get away.
“That’s really helpful,” Fletcher said appreciatively, pushing to a standing position and wiping off his uniform.
“Do you think you three are enough to stop Rosco?” Vera asked, skepticism in her tone.
Fletcher smiled at Lars and Nona with pride before saying, “He’ll never see us coming.”
“Then I hope for all our sakes that you are successful,” Vera said, her eyes dropping to the supplies they’d brought. “Thank you for the gifts. They will help more than you know.”
“You’re welcome,” Fletcher replied. “And soon Anara will be yours once more.”
Chapter Seventeen
Officer’s Lounge, Ricky Bobby, Paladin System
Julianna took a sip of the red wine only to make Liesel quit looking her way.
“Doesn’t it have a lot of complexity?” the engineer asked.
“Like a fucking crossword puzzle,” Julianna sighed, and then tested the wine again. It wasn’t whiskey, but it did have a boldness to it.
“Hey, Liesel Diesel,” Eddie said, perched on his stool and shaking his wine glass at her. “Is this vino vegan?”
“It’s made from grapes,” Marilla said from his other side as she ran her paintbrush over the canvas. She hadn’t even taken a sip of wine or whiskey, and was already busy painting a landscape of sunflowers.
She really doesn’t know how this works, Julianna thought.
“But are they vegan grapes?” Eddie asked.
Jack, for all his pressuring, sat in the back row, where his canvas was out of sight. Julianna looked at her own blank canvas. She’d never dabbled in the arts—well, unless kicking ass was considered an art form. She believed it to be one.
“What you paint should be personal to you,” Liesel instructed, striding through the easels with a carefree grin on her face. “If you need some inspiration, I have some art books at the front of the room.”
I thought there was going to be a nude model, Pip said in Julianna’s head.
She nearly jumped up out of her seat, she was so shocked and relieved to hear his voice. Instead, she put on her best indifferent tone.
Oh, hey.
Did you miss me?
Didn’t realize you were gone.
He sighed. Oh. I see that absence does not, in fact, make your heart grow fonder.
Your mistake was thinking I had a heart.
You do. It’s currently beating at seventy-two beats per minute. Maybe if I have the captain drop his brush and bend over to pick it up, your heart rate will increase.
Julianna nearly burst out laughing, but took a quick drink to cover it up. The red wine made her mouth pucker. This wasn’t a drink she could slam.
Did you and Hatch make up? Did you beg for his forgiveness? she asked him.
Pleeeeease, he said drawing out the word. I told him how it was, and he was like, ‘Don’t sweat a thing, Pip,’ and I was all like, ‘I don’t sweat’. So yeah, we cool.
Julianna’s cheeks warmed as she suppressed another laugh.
“What’s got you smiling?” Eddie asked, catching the look on her face.
She dabbed her brush in a glob of blue paint and spread it across the white canvas, making a dash of bold color. “Pip,” she said simply.
“The little tyke is back?” Eddie asked, looking relieved and then hurt. “I haven’t heard from him.”
Tell him ‘hoes before bros’, Pip stated.
Julianna shook her head, dabbing her brush back into the blue paint. “He said he’s afraid of the dark, and is therefore limiting his time in your head.”
“Ouch!” Eddie said, clapping his hand to his chest.
Oh, good one.
Why haven’t you said anything to Eddie yet? Julianna asked Pip.
I will, but I kind of figured I should re-establish contact with you first.
But you were using his body when you wrecked the car.
Scratched, he corrected. And yes, but I’m…well, I guess I’m closer to you.
We have spent a lot of time together, Julianna said, dabbing more blue on the top corner of the canvas, strangely enjoying the squishing sound her brush made.
I guess you could say that I missed you.
Julianna pulled the brush away, tilting her head to the side to regard her painting from a different angle.
Ar
e you surprised to hear me say that? Pip asked.
Julianna smiled and took another drink of the bold, red wine. She would be drinking whiskey, but she and Eddie had already finished the bottle.
Day drinking might be a problem at this rate, even with my nanos, she mused.
To Pip, she said, I’m not surprised, but it’s nice to hear you say it. I might have missed you too, but don’t tell anyone, she warned.
I’ve already blogged about it.
“Your picture…” Eddie began, and then hesitated. “It’s a lot of blue.”
Julianna stared at her canvas, a monochromatic rendition. “I like the color.”
“It reminds me of a sky,” Eddie said, dunking his paintbrush in yellow and drawing a circle on his canvas.
“Is that supposed to be a sun?” Julianna asked.
“Yeah, I figured I’d paint the thing I never missed but was always told I should,” Eddie said, and for a moment, there was a rare depth to his tone.
“It’s true that ship life doesn’t give us much of a chance to see skies or suns, but we get a lot of time with the stars,” Julianna said, looking out the bank of windows that offered a gorgeous view of a neighboring system.
The sun is also a star, Pip informed her.
Shut it. I thought it sounded poetic.
Leave the poetry to me, because bad poetry equals oh no-etry.
That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said.
I’ll try harder. I can do worse.
“What’s Pip going on about?” Eddie asked. “You’re grinning ear to ear.”
“Oh, he’s making no sense at all, so…the usual,” Julianna stated.
“Tell him I said hi.”
Tell the captain—
Pip, are you intentionally trying to be annoying? Julianna asked, cutting him off. You can tell him whatever you like yourself, and you know that.
I figured we could have some alone time.
Yes, just you and me and all these amateur painters.
Marilla’s painting actually looks really nice. Chester’s is kind of scary.
Julianna watched the hacker make black Xs on his canvas. It’s his own personal expression. Don’t judge.
The captain has made a cheerful sun, Pip observed.
Julianna gazed over to see an elementary sun on Eddie’s canvas. It reminded her of something a child would paint with their fingers.
“Who are these people saying that you should miss sunsets and sunrises?” Julianna asked him.
He set down his brush and took a drink. “My mother.”
“Oh,” Julianna said, putting way too much blue paint on her brush.
She’d read Eddie’s file and knew it by heart. His parents were huge supporters of the Federation, pilots who had served until the day they died, a notable and horrific day in history.
What Julianna didn’t know was why Eddie blamed himself when, from everything she could see, he wasn’t culpable.
“Yeah, she used to say that it was her love of the stars that made her miss Earth,” Eddie stated, a raw sincerity in his eyes.
“That’s kind of beautiful,” Julianna mused.
“She was beautiful. One of the most elegant women I’ve ever known,” Eddie said softly, his paintbrush suddenly moving double-time as he talked. “She was strong but had a dainty femininity about her. My father absolutely loved her, and he of course adored that she was a pilot like him. They’d talk for hours about different maneuvers. She was smarter when it came to technique, but he was humbler. They were an incredible combination.”
Sound familiar? Pip asked.
Julianna’s brush swiped clear off the canvas, dripping blue paint on the floor.
You have the worst fucking timing in the world, she fumed, wanting to slap Pip.
Eddie stared down at the ground for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts. Then he shrugged. “Anyway, sorry. I kind of went off, there. Didn’t mean to.”
“No, it’s okay,” Julianna said quickly. “I like hearing you talk about them.”
Eddie paused, his paintbrush touching the canvas lightly as he stared at her, a slight, sideways smile on his face. “Thanks,” he finally said. “I like telling you.”
The two resumed painting in silence, listening to their own coarse brushstrokes like they were music.
Chapter Eighteen
Hatch’s Lab, Ricky Bobby, Paladin System
From beneath the DeLorean, Hatch’s tentacle appeared.
“I need a 9/16 wrench,” the mechanic called to Knox.
A moment later, he heard soft-soled footsteps as his assistant went to fetch the tool. He didn’t really need Knox to retrieve tools for him, but it made the repairs more collaborative.
This was something brand new for the Londil. In all his years, he had never really worked with anyone. With Cheng, he’d worked on one aspect of the Tangle Thief, while the doctor worked on the other. What he and Knox did was different. Better. He found himself whistling as the cold wrench was laid on his tentacle.
“Just another few bolts, and then I’ll need you to crank her up,” Hatch told Gunner as he took the tool.
“You got it,” Knox said, his tone excited.
“Dr. A’Din Hatcherik,” Ricky Bobby chimed overhead.
“I’m busy,” Hatch said, his annoyance flaring.
“There has never been an instance when I’ve called on you that you weren’t busy. I’ve never interrupted you unless it was important,” the AI said.
Hatch wheeled out from under the car, inflating to his normal size. “What is it?”
“I’ve received a report that a radiation tear has been detected. It would appear that the Tangle Thief has been used again.”
“Oh, dammit,” Hatch cursed, tossing the wrench to the side. “Have you contacted the captain and the commander?”
“I have, and they, along with Dr. Sung, are already preparing to leave,” Ricky Bobby said.
Hatch sighed. “Well, then, it sounds like it’s all being taken care of. Why are you bugging me?”
“It was Dr. Sung’s idea to alert you,” Ricky Bobby informed him.
Hatch looked over at Knox, who was wearing a curious expression.
“Go on,” Hatch urged.
“The Tangle Thief was used to steal quite a large supply of gold from inside a mine on Nexus,” Ricky Bobby explained.
At first, this made no sense to Hatch…like he was working out a rare, unsolvable equation. Then the implications of such a theft, along with everything else he knew, became clear.
“I can’t believe it,” he said in a hush.
“That they used the Tangle Thief to steal riches?” Knox asked. “I can. That’s what I would have used it for.”
Hatch shook his head. “They don’t want the gold for its wealth. They want it for its material properties.”
Knox scratched his brow, looking perplexed. “I don’t understand.”
Hatch shook his head incredulously at what he was about to say. “I was wrong. The Saverus are building an ark.”
Nexus, Tangki System
Eddie looked over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for any Saverus lurking nearby. Last time, they’d stayed behind to see who would come to clean up their mess, and he suspected they would do it again.
Cheng stumbled several times in the bulky, radiation-protective suit as he tried to get up the rocky cliff to the cave entrance. Although they’d parked the Q-Ship as close as they could, it was still a hike to where the tear was supposedly located.
When they reached the entrance to the cave, the bright light from the tear shone through the dark cave, illuminating every inch of the space. Eddie shielded his eyes as Julianna pulled out her sunglasses.
She’s always prepared, the captain thought somewhat admiringly.
“This tear is quite a bit larger than the last one,” Cheng said, motioning for them to back up.
“Well, they did steal the entire contents of a cave of gold,” Eddie stated, still in disbelief over
the theft.
It would have been impressive, if the effects weren’t so sinister. The Saverus were one step closer to their goal, which was not only terrifying, but infuriating.
Cheng fired on his vacuum gun, or whatever he called it—the guy didn’t talk much or offer too many details. Eddie caught a hint of frustration in the doctor’s movements after a moment.
“I’m not near enough!” Cheng yelled over the roar of the machine. “I have to get a bit closer.”
“Be careful,” Julianna warned, squinting from the brightness of the tear.
The ground was uneven and sloped dangerously in places. Cheng shuffled forward a few inches. His covered shoe caught on a rock, and he lunged forward, initiating a chain of stumbling steps, unable to catch his balance.
Julianna bolted after him, reaching for him before he could tumble down into the tear that threatened to swallow him whole. Her hands missed him, and he fell to the ground. He grabbed onto the rocks to stop his momentum, and the device in his hands clattered to the ground and rolled toward the opening.
Julianna dove after Cheng and clutched his wrist. She held onto him, trying to catch her breath, and after a few seconds, she tugged him toward her, encouraging him up.
Cheng looked over his shoulder to where the device lay. “My instrument!” he yelled over the whirling sound the tear made, like wind beating in a sail.
Julianna nearly yanked him over to where they’d been before his tumble, trying to keep him safe. “It’s fine. I’ll go get it.”
Eddie shook his head. “No, you had an adventure just now. Let me do it.”
Julianna glanced over to where the instrument had landed, only feet from the tear. It was bouncing slightly, like the vortex of the tear could pull it in at any second.
“Yeah, fine,” Julianna agreed, handing him her sunglasses. “Wear these, though, or you won’t be able to see.”
“Thanks.” Eddie took the glasses.
“And be careful,” Julianna ordered. “If you get pulled in there, I’m not going in after you.”