The Quiet God (Earth Exiles Book 4)

by Mark Harritt

  As she scraped the mud off, the true color of her skin started to show. Pale white, corpselike, almost translucent skin seemed stretched tight over the bony protrusions of her spine as she leaned over to slough off the mud. When she finished wiping the mud off, she stepped out of the shallow tub, tracking muddy footprints across the room as she grabbed the skin suit that she wore under her normal uniform. As she walked, patches of dark green and brown spread, slime oozing out of her pores to create a protective coating, the symbiotic bacteria working quickly to cover her skin.

  She pulled on her skin suit, crossed to the door and opened it. Fancheion was standing just beyond the door, waiting impatiently.

  “Well?” she snapped.

  He bowed to her, “The transport has been reported missing.”

  Taectis smiled at the news. One couldn’t always depend on the motivations of alien soldiers, but this time, it seemed that fate had favored her. It seemed that the ghost soldiers hadn’t been able to resist temptation. That was good. That was what Taectis had been hoping for.

  She didn’t know how the ghost soldiers acquired their information, she had just hoped that she would be able to exploit their capabilities. It seemed that the ghosts had let their guard down. Their operations against the Turinzoni probably had a tendency to keep their expectations of their enemy low.

  Taectis walked from her room, down the hall, to her desk. She’d left her electronic tablet on the desk the night before. She sat down and picked it up, thumbing the biometric scanner so that it could read her DNA, and the DNA of her slime bacteria. Once the scanner was satisfied, the tablet powered up, and she was able to enter her alpha numeric password.

  She slid her hand across the tablet, and found the menu she wanted. She tapped the screen, and a command index appeared. She entered another alpha numeric stream, and the command became active. She tapped a series of commands into the tablet.

  Within seconds, high overhead, in geosynchronous orbit above the continent where Mike was getting inebriated, five ‘rocks’ started to show signs of life. Those ‘rocks’ had originally numbered nine, but one over shot the target and three had burned into the atmosphere. They were inserted via orbital mechanics as soon as the Sh’raithe’s contracted deep system transport ship had arrived in system.

  It had taken extra money and two crew members dropped into vacuum to ensure that Om Varee didn’t find out about the satellites, but spending the money had been worth it. Because of the generous amount of compensation received, the master of the ship didn’t seem to be too concerned about the loss of his crew members. Now, Om Varee wouldn’t be able to break the encryption and corrupt the data to cover whatever subterfuge he was engaged in.

  “Do you think that Om Varee knows?” Fancheion asked.

  “If he doesn’t, he will soon enough,” Taectis cackled.

  When Taectis had asked about piggybacking onto Om Varee’s satellites, she had never really intended to use the data that he was transmitting to her. She had dealt with too many intelligence operatives to actually trust anything they gave her. She knew that there was always going to be something that they held back. Instead, that was just to divert his attention, hopefully giving him the impression that the Sh’raithe didn’t have satellite capabilities of their own. At worst, Om Varee would find out and corrupt the data stream. At best? Well, at best, Taectis would have the location of the target she was seeking. Taectis was betting on the latter since Om Varee wouldn’t have time to deploy physical or electronic countermeasures.

  The satellites maneuvered into their proper orbits and started communicating with each other. Then, they saturated the area below them with electronic queries in measured energy bursts, seeking a response. The equipment the satellites were seeking didn’t have its own power, instead relying on the energy that was being sent to it via satellite. Soon, telemetry data started scrolling across the screen. The bursts powered the transmitter with enough energy that it was able to relay its location back to the satellites. The telemetry continued as the tracker moved across the landscape.

  On Taectis’ tablet, a dot appeared where the telemetry was plotted over a map of the continent. A second dot appeared, then a third. Soon, a line was forming between the start and where the tracker was currently located.

  Taectis watched as the line lengthened, grim with satisfaction, knowing that her target was in sight, and her bonuses would be paid. Still, others had underestimated the ghost soldiers’ competence. She didn’t know where they were from, or what their capabilities were. She didn’t plan on making the same mistakes that her predecessor had made. She was going to find them, then throw everything she had at them.

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  The alarm was incessant, ensuring that there was no way that Om Varee could remain asleep. He sat up in bed, trying to figure out if his security had been breached. He checked the electronic wards and his heart rate decreased as he realized that they were safe. He looked over at Mara’a and Jhani, cuddled in each other’s arms. He put his legs over the side of the bed and stood up to pad across the room. A dim red light lit the room just enough so that he wouldn’t bump into anything.

  He stopped at his desk, pressing his hand against the sensor on top of the computer. The sensor registered his biometrics, and the beeping in his ear stopped. The computer unfolded so that he could see the screen. Data started scrolling across the screen.

  Softly, he cursed at what he saw. Someone had initiated their own communications network without his permission. His fingers flew, clicking different menus, activating indicators to tell him what the data was and where it was going. He was mollified slightly as he noticed that the data stream wasn’t going anywhere near the Dostori Rev’s communications network, but he needed to know who was receiving such a large amount of data. He activated a packet of dormant code and piggybacked it onto the data stream so that it rode the data stream into the unknown information system. Once inside, it unfolded and started exploring its new environment, sending data packets back to Om Varee.

  He felt hands settle onto his shoulders and then slide down his chest as she leaned forward to kiss him on the ear. “Should I be worried?” Jhani asked.

  He smiled, “When have you ever worried about anything?”

  Jhani nuzzled his neck, “I’m always worried about you when you leave me. Especially now that you have that pack of vermin following you around everywhere.”

  He reached up to pat her hand, “No, I think we’re safe for the moment.”

  “Then why did we receive a security alert?”

  He pointed at the computer, “There’s a new data network operating on the planet.”

  “Sh’raithe?” Jhani asked.

  He nodded, “Quite clever how they did it. They used orbital mechanics to insert what my sensors assumed to be dumb rocks into orbit. See that? You can see the telemetry of how they were inserted. They tried to divert my attention with that feint about piggybacking my satellites. Now, their systems are up and working, feeding them telemetry of some kind from the other side of the planet.”

  She leaned over his shoulder to look at the telemetry, “Looks like somethings moving in a consistent line over there.”

  Om Varee nodded, “Yes, and unfortunately, I think I know what it is.”

  She kissed him on the cheek, “What?”

  Om Varee pulled up his own set of telemetry, and it superimposed right over the path that the Sh’raithe were tracking. He pointed at it, “That’s the large transport shuttle that the black soldiers stole from the Turinzoni compound. It appears that the Sh’raithe have figured out a way to track them.”

  “So, we aren’t in danger?” Jhani asked.

  Om Varee shook his head, “No, not yet.”

  “Are they?”

  Om Varee nodded, “Yes, unfortunately, I think they may be. This gives the Sh’raithe the capability to find out where their base of operations is.”

  “Can you warn them?”


  Om Varee thought about it, then shook his head, “No, not now. I don’t know what those satellites are capable of. I don’t know if they can trace my data or intercept my communications. I don’t dare risk it. It would point to us and that could put us in danger. Om Shar will just have to figure out a way of dealing with it.”

  “When he finds out he’s being tracked,” Jhani pointed out.

  Om Varee tapped the input, and the computer display turned off. The computer folded back in on itself, “If he finds out. He may not realize it until it’s too late.”

  “And how does that affect us?” Jhani asked.

  Om Varee had to think about it. He turned to look at her, “For now, that’s unknown. I’ve scrubbed any possible reference or inference of who my sources might be from all electronic media, and any record of communications that existed between us. Hopefully, I won’t be implicated. Not that the Dostori Rev needs justification.”

  Jhani smiled and kissed him on the lips. She leaned back, “Hopefully, we won’t be implicated.”

  Mara’a called from the bed, “Since it doesn’t seem like we’re going to be slaughtered anytime soon, can you two shut up and come back to bed?”

  Jhani smiled as she looked into his eyes, a mischievous twinkle giving him some insight into what she was thinking. Then, she turned around and ran to jump back into bed. Om Varee heard giggling as they started playing.

  “Varee, where are you?” Mara’a called.

  “Varee, you might want to join us,” Jhani called in a sing song voice.

  Om Varee stood up and walked back to bed. He thought about the black soldiers, and his spies. He was troubled by the turn of events, but he couldn’t figure out a way around this new problem. Maybe tomorrow would bring a better perspective, and a clearer head to deal with it. Right now, though, he had other priorities.

  “Are you ready for me?” he asked.

  Giggles erupted, and four hands reached out to pull him into bed.

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  Mike’s mouth was dry and his eyes were gummed shut. He was laying on his stomach. He knuckled his eyes to break the crust, and tried to work up spit to lubricate his mouth. There seemed to be a film on his eyes, but he was finally able to see. He was hanging half off the bed, his head over the side. He could see why his mouth was dry. There was puddle of drool on the floor. Then, as his senses started working again, he suddenly realized that his head hurt as well. He groaned.

  “You awake now? Sorry about that. I know you like to sleep on your back, but I thought it would be better if you slept on your stomach last night.”

  Mike rolled off his stomach and over onto his back. He still felt pretty queasy, “That was probably a good call.” He glanced over to see Jennifer sitting on the edge of the bed in her black, spider silk pajamas, “The way I feel, I’m almost sure I’m dead. There’s only one reason why I’m pretty sure I’m not.”

  Jen’s eyebrow went up, “What’s that?”

  Mike grinned, “Well, there seems to be an angel in my room, and when I die, I’m not sure I’m headed in that direction.”

  Jennifer giggled, “You’re such a flirt.”

  Mike nodded, “With you, always.”

  Jennifer’s eyes lit up. She reached over and touched the back of his hand, “I’m pretty sure you don’t have to worry about a trip south, baby. I don’t think the devil wants you there. If you went to hell, in a week you’d be leading an insurrection against him.”

  Mike smiled, and nodded, “And I’d win.”

  Jennifer smiled, and patted his hand, “I bet you would. Especially if the team went with you.” She changed the subject, “You were pretty drunk when you came in last night.”

  Mike nodded, “Yeah, I was by the time I got here. I didn’t think I drank that much on the aircraft. I was stumbling a little bit when I got off, but it hit me pretty hard on the way back to the room.”

  “You think that’s a good idea when you have loaded weapons?”

  Mike stared at the ceiling, “Probably not. I am from Georgia, though. You can’t go hunting or fishing without beer in Georgia.”

  Jennifer grabbed her brush and started brushing her hair, “So, kind of a ‘hey ya’ll, watch this, moment?”

  Mike turned to look at her, “Exactly. Except this redneck seems to have survived.”

  She stopped combing her hair, and pointed at him, “I would prefer that there be no more ‘hey ya’ll’s’ before the birth of our child.”

  Mike grinned, “And after?”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes, “Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

  “I blame all of last night on Caul.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s the one that smuggled the damn wine onto the transport.”

  Jennifer pointed a finger at Mike, “But you didn’t stop him. And you helped him drink it.”

  Mike laughed, “No. No I didn’t. And yes I did. You’ve got me there, honey. It’s not like I had much of a chance, though. Everett announced that we’re going to have a baby. After that, everybody kept toasting me and my new baby boy.”

  Jennifer’s eyes narrowed, “Baby boy?”

  “I was drinking with a society of hunter-gatherers,” Mike pointed out, “What else do you expect. They kept singing songs about the size of my penis and my amazing virility.” Mike turned his head toward Jennifer, “Besides, you don’t have to worry. I’m Special Forces, so I probably have the curse.”

  Jennifer frowned, “What curse?”

  Mike smiled, “We usually have girls. Go into any housing community with a bunch of SF guys, and you’re going to find a lot of little girls. My neighbor, an old SF First Sergeant, told me that, since Special Forces breaks so many hearts, we’re all cursed to have girls.”

  Jennifer glanced over at him, “I thought it was the Marines that were the heartbreakers.”

  Mike pursed his lips, “Oooooh, shots fired. I think that one got me.” He rubbed his chest, searching for a nonexistent wound.

  Jennifer smiled, “Present company excepted. Well, that’s what my brothers used to tell me. One question though.”

  “Shoot.”

  “What happened to your arms?”

  He looked at his arms. Sure enough, there were bruises where Mickey had grabbed his biceps. “Mickey’s going to be an uncle,” Mike explained.

  Jennifer laughed. It sounded good to hear her laugh after the other day.

  Mike smiled at her, and then extended his hand toward her, “Jennifer.”

  She looked at him, “What?”

  “I need to apologize.”

  She looked away, and started combing her hair again, “About what?”

  “When we talked the other day. About me going out on combat missions.”

  Jennifer didn’t say anything. She stopped combing her hair, and put both her hands in her lap. She stared down at the brush, “No, Mike, you don’t need to apologize. I need to.” She looked at him, and he could see a small tear in the corner of her eye, “What I said to you, it wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know you’re trying to keep us safe.”

  Mike held his hands out to her, “Come here, honey.”

  Jennifer sat down the hair brush, crawled over to him, and laid down next to him with her head on his chest. He put his arms around her, and kissed her on top of the head, “You know I love you.”

  She nodded, with a little snuffle, “I know you do. I just get so worried. I worry about us, about the future, about our baby.”

  He rubbed the small of her back with his hand, “I know you do. I worry too. I don’t know how everything is going to end. And honestly, I’m not even going to promise you that I’m always going to come back to you. I made that promise once, and I wasn’t able to keep it.”

  Jennifer looked up at him, “Jo?”

  He nodded, “Yeah, I always made that promise to Jo when I walked out the door.” He paused for a moment as the pain of the loss came back to him. She could feel
him tense up, and she turned her head and kissed him on the chest. Then she laid her head back down. He relaxed as she kissed him. The emotions that had tensed up in his chest unknotted. He kissed her on the forehead, “But, you know I’ll do my damnedest to get back to you. You know that, right?”

  She nodded, snuggling down further into his chest. He kissed her on top of the head again, smelling the fragrance of her hair. He kissed her again, his lips lingering. His hand dropped from the small of her back, exploring lower.

  “Oh HELL no, cowboy. It didn’t work last night, and it’s not going to work now. What the hell are you thinking, Mike? You smell like a brewery.”

  Mike smiled, “I got a little bit rowdy last night?”

  Jen shook her head, “Rowdy isn’t exactly what I’d call it, Mike.” Jen slid back over to her side, of the bed. Mike stared forlornly at her retreating back. Jen looked back and caught his expression. She laughed. Mike’s bottom lip slipped out in a pout, making her laugh harder. She got up from her side of the bed, walked around to his, put her hands on either side of his face, and gave him a peck on the forehead, “Now, get up and go get cleaned up.”

  Mike sighed, threw back the covers, and stood up. Jennifer giggled, staring, “At least you’ll have a place to hang your towel.”

  Mike shook his head, “No respect I tell you, I get no respect.”

  Jennifer giggled again, “Okay, Rodney. You keep thinking that. Maybe when you get finished with your shower, we can work something out.”

  Mike perked up, “Well, I guess I better get moving then.”

  Jennifer laughed, “A man with a mission.”

  Mike nodded, “Oh yeah, I am now.”

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  Mike knew, that if there truly was a hell, the demons in charge of torturing the tormented souls were academics that enjoyed meetings. The academics were probably in charge of all the lawyers, judges, and politicians, all of them fitting in, right at home. Right now, Mike had an inside scoop on what those proceedings would be like as he listened to Dr. Humphreys talk about the dissection of the alien hominid. Not that it wasn’t interesting. It was just that Joel had a tendency to go into too much detail about the new and exciting structural and biochemical differences that he’d found in the corpse. Pedantic was a word that he’d heard and thought he’d never have a use for. Now, sadly, he truly knew what that word meant. By this point, Mike was pretty sure that Satan was taking notes for future reference.