The Vixen War Bride
Page 21
Hestean snorted.
The storyteller decided to get back on topic and away from Alacea’s fear.
Alacea digested that. It made sense in a certain way. She was basing her expectations on the behaviors of aliens thousands of years dead, and her new Tesho had undermined those expectations at every turn. Perhaps it would be wiser to simply act as if there were no expectations.
Further up the line, Ramirez walked next to Bao Sen and a group of her huntresses. Darkness or the ugly orange glow of the lanterns inside the cave had done little to show off the vixen’s appearance. Faced with it now, Ramirez found himself walking beside a very attractive alien woman. Her red-gold hair seemed to sparkle in the sunlight and a brief, casual look downward showed him a set of toned legs.
Before he could look away, her eyes turned and locked onto him. Caught in the act, Ramirez swallowed and tried to think of something cool to say, a ridiculous idea given she didn’t speak any English. Finally, he remembered what little Va’Shen he knew and went with it.
Bao Sen glared for another moment before hefting her hardlight rifle and quickening her pace to get away from him. “Pachu,” she growled.
Ramirez watched her go, not sure if he had crashed and burned or merely crashed. He felt a familiar presence to his right and turned to find Patricia walking there, her expression utterly indifferent.
“’Pachu,’” he repeated to her. “That mean ‘thank you,’ or…”
“Oh!” Patricia said, as if surprised to suddenly be part of the conversation but secretly thrilled. “Well… a pachu is a kind of… um… animal… that… well… the Va’Shen raise for food… and spends most of its time… um… rolling around in its own filth.”
Ramirez gave the translation some thought before responding.
“Pig,” he concluded. “It means ‘pig.’ You could have just said that, LT. I’m a big boy.”
Patricia was doing her best to conceal the smirk that threated to claw its way onto her face.
“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” he asked her in the face of her amusement.
“Everything and more, Staff Sergeant,” she admitted.
“LT! We need you back here!”
Patricia and Ramirez turned and found Specialist Shinzato waving to them for the side of the procession.
“Want me to go with?” Ramirez asked her.
“No, I think I’ll be okay,” Patricia told him. She gave him a wave and trotted to where the young Ranger was standing, her hands moving to various parts of her load bearing vest to try to keep her equipment from bouncing free.
When she reached Shinzato, the 19-year-old trooper gestured for her to follow him and began to jog back toward the rear of the line of marching aliens. She saw that a group of Va’Shen were surrounding Burgers, Jenkins and a tall Va’Shen man sporting a dark grey ponytail holding the hand of a little fox girl. The Va’Shen man appeared very upset and was speaking loudly at the soldiers.
“What’s going on?” Patricia asked, breaking through the crowd.
“Hey, LT,” Burgers greeted her. “I think we have a little cross-cultural misunderstanding.”
“What happened?”
The tod began yelling at them again, one hand holding the little girl’s, the other waving frantically.
“I offered the girl a piece of candy,” Jenkins explained. “Next thing I know, this guy is up in my face yelling and throwing a fit.”
The specialist seemed genuinely confused, and Patricia turned to the Va’Shen man.
“What’s he saying?” Jenkins asked.
“He says you were trying to poison the girl,” Patricia told her.
“Excuse me?!” Jenkins cried angrily. She seemed ready to pull off her load-bearing vest, drop her rifle and kick the tod’s rear end into the river.
“Jenkins, give me the candy,” Patricia ordered. The Ranger pulled the bag out and quickly handed it to her. The interpreter opened the bag and looked inside. She gave Jenkins a sour look. “Black licorice? Seriously? I thought you were trying to make friends, not piss them off.”
“Black licorice is the only good kind!” Jenkins shot back.
“Fine, whatever,” Patricia breathed. She pulled a piece of the candy out and showed it to the tod before popping it in her mouth. Chewing, she tried to pretend the licorice was something good.
“Mmmm!” he said dramatically.
She offered a piece to the Va’Shen, who only glared and pulled the girl away from them, disappearing into the crowd.
The other surrounding Va’Shen seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and rejoined the group.
“Thanks, LT,” Burgers said.
“Yeah, thanks, Ma’am,” Jenkins joined.
“No problem,” Patricia assured them with a sigh of resignation. “It really is kind of a powder keg, huh?”
“I guess so,” Jenkins told her sadly. “But,” she began again with a little more bounce in her voice, “The best part of starting from rock bottom is that you can’t fall any further.”
“Yeah,” Burgers agreed. “But watch us try.”
Ben leaned against the rock wall of the cliff that ran along the left side of the road and took a long breath. The procession was on one of its many rest stops, and the sun was getting lower and lower in the sky. It wouldn’t be long before they would have to stop for the night, and they were only a few miles into the trip.
He put the tip of his drinking tube into his mouth and drank deeply. After taking his fill, he reached down and pulled a canteen from his web belt. Unscrewing the top, he lifted it up and poured the contents over his head, hoping the lukewarm water would wake him up a little.
The water, however, provided very little refreshment. He was so tired. He had barely slept the last few days. At least when he was fighting the Va’Shen, exhaustion would eventually drive him into short catnaps that staved off complete collapse. In peacetime, he had time to get a solid eight hours every night but found he couldn’t get through it without bad dreams or memories haunting him. It was ironic that he had found more restful sleep amongst the sounds of mortars and artillery going off, the sounds of helicopter gunships flying overhead, or the unsettling silence of the jungle at night, its denizens frightened in
to silence by the presence of the Rangers or the Va’Shen commandos who hunted them. Peace had made rest impossible.
Some frantic jabbering between the aliens toward the front of the formation got his attention, and he pushed off away from the wall. Approaching, he saw two vixens standing over a boy of about 10, who was laying on the ground, holding his right foot and groaning in pain. One of the vixens, a tall, green-haired woman, had her hands gently on the other’s shoulders, who was yammering excitedly and worriedly at her.
Ben looked around for Patricia but didn’t see her. Even so, he got the gist of what was happening.
“Medic!” he called.
The two Va’Shen women fell silent and turned to him, noticing his presence for the first time. The yammering vixen’s tail rippled in fear at the sight of him.
Ben turned as their medic, Specialist Burton, trotted up to him. “What’s up, Sir?” he asked, barely out of breath. He must have been nearby when Ben called.
The Ranger captain jerked his head in the direction of the kid on the ground. “Kid’s got a bum leg. Can you take a look?”
“Yes, Sir,” Burton replied and started for the boy, unshouldering his pack.
The vixen who had been speaking before was frantic now, and the green-haired woman jumped in and began speaking to the two humans angrily.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Burton tried to reassure them. He pointed at himself and at the red cross stitched on his pack. “Doctor!” he told them. “Doctor. Healer?” he tried. “Make the boo boos better guy?”
“Just look at the kid, Doc,” Ben ordered irritably.
Burton started to kneel over the boy, but the green-haired woman pushed between them and smacked his hands away. She muttered something that sounded distinctly unflattering under her breath and turned to the boy, gently moving the cuff of his monpei up over his ankle.
The medic pointed toward the boy’s ankle and started to speak, but the vixen smacked his hand away and pointed at his chest, unleashing a blast of angry Va’Shen words at him. On the other side of her, the other vixen watched, her hands clasped in concern.
Her tail thumping against the ground angrily, the green-haired woman pulled a roll of grey bandages from her pocket and soaked them with water from a leatherish water skin. She spoke kindly to the boy and gently wrapped the bandage around his bruised ankle.
Burton straightened and addressed Ben. “Without a good look myself, best I can say is a bad sprain.”
“Can he walk?”
“Not several miles downhill over bad terrain,” Burton told him. “At least he shouldn’t.”
They both turned to the sound of a cry of pain. The boy was trying to stand on it but couldn’t put more than a touch of his weight on it without crying out and nearly collapsing.
Ben sighed. “Well, that sucks.” He looked around again for Patricia but didn’t see her. He bit his lip, but his impatience got the better of him, and he stepped toward the kid, handing his rifle to Burton.
The one vixen, he assumed it was his mother, stepped up to him, her tail a flurry of movement. She pointed at her son and hopped up and down as she spoke rapidly. She put her arm around the kid and demonstrated that she could help him walk. Ben ignored her.
Both vixens cried out in indignation as the Ranger picked the boy up and started carrying him toward the front of the line. They followed closely, shouting harshly at him. The boy in his arms cried out to his mother, adding his voice to the many that were pounding against Ben’s aching head.
Hearing the yelling, Alacea appeared from somewhere up the line, she saw her Tesho carrying young Badzu, Naella’s oldest son, followed by Naella and Kastia, who were shouting up a storm.
Alacea cut her off before she could finish the disturbing thought.
Would he?
She pushed through the sea of Va’Shen bodies and tails. When she finally broke through, she saw Ben lifting the boy up and depositing him on the back of their four-wheeled vehicle. Another Dark One already sitting astride it.
The Mountain Lion four-wheeler was designed to carry two, one behind the other, and had cargo racks on the front and rear, so there was plenty of room for the boy behind its driver, Private Lynch, who was tapping the two safety handles in front of Kadzu and gesturing that he should hold onto them.
Naella rushed past them and petted her son on the head, glaring angrily at the Dark Ones. Kadzu looked more interested in the strange vehicle he was riding. Jenkins had been right about one thing, kids loved cool-looking vehicles.
Alacea’s ears flattened in annoyed chagrin. Didn’t she just tell herself earlier that day to temper her expectations.
Kastia stood next to her, silently stewing.
Although not Mikorin, village healers had a special status in their communities and like the Mikorin they were well-drilled on their long history. Kastia faced Alacea, obviously irritated that she wasn’t taking this as seriously as she was.
Alacea said nothing. Bitter history was hard to learn.
Alacea told her quietly.
She didn’t wait for the priestess to answer. She turned on her heel and marched back down the line. For that, Alacea was thankful to her.
She had no ready answer to give her.
Chapter 11
The first hint that something was about to go wrong came when Ramirez saw one of the Huntresses run up to Bao Sen, who was walking just ahead of him about a third of the way down the line. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun would be setting soon. It was just about time to start looking for good places to camp, and unfortunately, with the ridge on their left and the cliff above the river to their right, there weren’t a lot of good options.
Just ahead of them and to the left, Ramirez could see the cut in the ridge they had passed on the way up, and the Ranger brightened. The wash-out was the size of a decent canyon and could probably hold the whole group. He was looking over his shoulder to find the captain, intent on suggesting it to him, when Bao Sen was suddenly in his face, pointing ahead of them and speaking urgently.
“Woah! Hold on there, lady! Pachu doesn’t speak ‘angry alien girl!’”
Bao Sen continued to point and talk, using her hands and trying to make him understand something, but he wasn’t getting it. He looked around and called out. “LT! We need you up here!”
Before the terp could respond, Bao Sen gave up. She unslung her hardlight rifle, pointed to three other Huntresses who were similarly armed, and together the four of them bounded up the ridge to their left. They were in the t
rees and gone before Ramirez even thought to raise his rifle and order them to stop.
He turned as Ben pushed his way through the throng of Va’Shen who had watched the exchange and pointed up the ridge. “Where the hell are they going?!” he demanded angrily.
“I don’t know, Sir!” Ramirez replied quickly, embarrassed that he had been caught so off-guard. By this time, Patricia and Alacea had joined them, trying to figure out what was going on. “Bao Sen was saying something, pretty excited, then she and three of her friends just took off!”
“Shit!” Ben hissed. “Stop the line!” he shouted up front. He turned to Alacea. “What the hell are your friends up to?!” he hissed at her.
Alacea just stood there, blinking up at him in bewilderment as Patricia translated the question.
Ramirez was already thinking this, and his bolt-action rifle was pointed up at the ridge, searching for signs of an ambush.
“It doesn’t make any damn sense,” Ben growled. “Goddamn Va’Shen…”
He broke off as he heard something, a rumble that seemed to reverberate in his chest. Everyone froze and looked to each other as if testing to see if they had heard it too or if it was their own personal hallucination.
“Captain! Captain Gibson!” they heard Burgers call from further up the line. “Get up here!”
They rushed forward, pushing their way past the confused villagers until they found Burgers, his M-31 pointed down the wash-out. Ramirez and Ben instinctively did the same. It was a good general rule that when one guy pointed his rifle somewhere, you pointed yours in the same direction.
“Whaddya got?” Ben asked the Ranger quietly.
“Fifty meters ahead,” Burgers told him, his eyes never leaving the sights of his rifle. “Something growled at us.”
“That was a growl?!” Patricia gasped.