AWOL

by Traci Harding

  Pema smiled. ‘But it is only through your individual self mastery that their guidance could be heeded,’ she allowed. ‘So gratitude to you, Sammael.’ She referred to Zeven and Aurora, who looked to her husband, amazed and intrigued, as Pema’s gaze turned to Telmo. ‘To you, Araqiel … and also to you, Azazèl.’ Pema rose up to look beyond their group, whereupon the rest of them turned about to find the free-floating spirit form of Lucian Gervaise behind them.

  ‘Captain …’ Zeven was clearly panicked by his superior’s form, or lack thereof. ‘Have you learned a new trick?’ He assumed the best.

  ‘No,’ their captain replied, calmly. ‘I’ve performed this trick quite a few times already.’

  11

  TOUGH ENOUGH

  When Taren awoke, she was disorientated; it took her a moment to figure out that she was in the weather control centre of Module C. The bed she was on belonged to Ringbalin and when she rolled over she found the biologist sound asleep beside her.

  How long have I been out? She sat upright carefully so as not to disturb her colleague, and tried to gather her wits.

  The day before was a traumatising recollection. It was tempting to go back to sleep, wake up the day before and see if she could alter the outcome. But too much had transpired in just that one day for her to cover it all, and causality would surely penalise her with some other unforeseen disaster she had yet to even contemplate. Lucian was dead, and her crew imprisoned — how much worse could it really be? Her circumstance caused a brief cascade of tears to drain from her eyes, but she brushed them aside, knowing grief was a waste of time. She had led them all into this, and it fell to her to get them out — it was that simple. And as long as there was a way, she would not collapse into despair.

  ‘Hello? Anybody home!’

  The call got Taren to her feet in a hurry, but once she spotted the source wandering through the greenhouse, eating a piece of fruit, she realised that she’d left their new associate, Trance, in the medical lab and he must have recovered from yesterday’s events faster than they had.

  ‘Oh damn, I fell asleep.’ Ringbalin raised himself. ‘I meant to go check on the patient and see if he needed anything, but?’ He threw his hands up in conclusion.

  ‘Well, you outlasted me.’ She was a little embarrassed about that. ‘Sorry, you had to carry me up here.’

  ‘My day wasn’t quite so long as yours,’ he conceded graciously. ‘I caught a brief nap whilst I was buried.’

  Taren was amused by his tale.

  ‘It was strangely comforting being buried like a seedling,’ he added. ‘A good lesson in empathy for me.’ He reached for his glasses, and cleaned them with his grubby T-shirt before he put them on. ‘Still, if you hadn’t come along, you might not have had as much luck replicating me back into existence.’

  ‘And heaven knows what details about you I might have overlooked, and would have to improvise on?’ Taren joked.

  ‘You saved my life,’ he concluded in all seriousness and with gratitude.

  ‘I was also the reason you, and all of the crew, were at risk in the first place.’ She was not about to overlook that.

  ‘Life … especially of revolutionary nature, is fraught with danger,’ Ringbalin stated. ‘We all knew that when we signed up for AMIE.’

  ‘I don’t know if that would be your reasoning if you were being tortured by Valoureans right now.’ Taren near suffocated on the guilt that thought invoked. ‘Or dead —’

  ‘We can fix the captain, we can free the crew, all we need is some fuel and an hour to get our priorities sorted.’ Ringbalin tied his shoes, sounding so sure and determined that Taren felt quite the idiot for being so contrary.

  ‘This is your handiwork, flower boy! I know you are around here somewhere!’ Trance yelled as Ringbalin stood.

  ‘We could just activate the rain function?’ Taren suggested.

  ‘He’s probably had enough rain after our short stint on Oceane.’ Ringbalin gathered back his hair and strapped it in a ponytail, which still didn’t stop the long fair strands of his fringe escaping. ‘I know Trance seems a little full of himself, but he’s an okay guy, really.’

  ‘I’ll take your word on that.’ Taren followed Ringbalin out the door. The impression she got of Trance was that he had a rather high opinion of himself, despite being self serving, moody, not too courageous and a bit of a snob.

  ‘All that empty crew accommodation and I find you two together?’ Trance commented upon sighting them descending the stairs. ‘How curious.’

  ‘Presumptuous pervert,’ Taren commented aside to Ringbalin, in answer to his good guy assertion.

  ‘He’s just trying to establish if there is anything going on between us, in order to assess if he can make a move on you,’ Ringbalin bantered.

  ‘I … I.’ Trance attempted to hide his guilty grin.

  ‘Best tell him not to test a woman with PK,’ Taren suggested, holding Trance firmly in her sights.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ He took offence. ‘I just want your supreme commander-ness to take me home.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that,’ Taren replied. ‘I need you.’

  Trance forced a laugh. ‘Yeah, tell someone who cares.’

  ‘Like the President of Sermetica perhaps, for whom I am working at present?’ Taren suggested, and Trance seemed to have a revelation.

  ‘You’re the ones,’ he uttered. ‘The psychic task force that brought Khalid to justice.’

  ‘We were,’ Taren replied, a bitter taste in her mouth. ‘Before Valoureans took my crew captive, destroyed this vessel, and killed my husband! Now you and Ringbalin are all the crew I have to help right this situation.’

  ‘You want me to help you jailbreak your crew from Phemorian prison!’ Trance backed up several paces. ‘Have you lost your fucking mind?’

  ‘Long time ago.’ Taren really wasn’t in the mood for dramatics.

  ‘Half your crew has been captured by Valoureans,’ Trance pointed out, ‘and the other half have been sucked into another dimension! Forgive me if I really don’t want to get involved in your shit.’

  ‘You are involved!’ Taren stated matter-of-factly. ‘Tell me, as a psychic, that you are not sick to death of having that held against you, and being forced to repress your true potential!’

  ‘Psychics are criminals on Sermetica no longer,’ Trance argued.

  ‘That’s right,’ Taren concurred. ‘But if President Anselm doesn’t get the psychic rights bill passed through the USS, Sermetica may be forced to fight to defend that right against every other planet in the USS.’

  ‘But Phemoria harbours psychics —’

  ‘Only women, and they don’t want men having that same privilege at present, believe me,’ Taren emphasised.

  ‘You are not going to convince me that signing up with you is in my favour.’ Trance folded his arms and took a stubborn stance.

  ‘There is a war going on, Mr Ducer. Go back to your little hidey-hole and wait for it to come for you if you wish … but it will come if we don’t stop it. So … wish us luck.’ Taren didn’t have the time or energy to spare arguing — it was easier to work alone than with someone uncooperative — and so headed for the main exit door.

  ‘I remember you having more balls,’ Ringbalin commented as he moved to follow Taren.

  ‘I remember you having less,’ Trance bickered. ‘You are insane to follow her.’

  ‘Yep, I accept that.’ Ringbalin nodded. ‘But at least I won’t die for no good reason.’

  ‘So, can I go home now?’ Trance called after them both.

  ‘Sure,’ Taren yelled back as the automatic glass sliding doors parted in front of her. ‘Feel free to make your own way.’

  ‘Argh!’ Trance was frustrated by his predicament. ‘How am I supposed to do that, when I don’t even know where I am?’

  ‘That’s a very good question,’ Taren awarded. ‘I sincerely hope you find an answer. But, if you’re really stuck, we have deep space pods i
n the launch bay.’

  ‘Stay safe,’ Ringbalin suggested to Trance, and caught Taren up to accompany her to the mess to grab some sustenance.

  It didn’t take the Valoureans long to get back to Phemoria; the passage was virtually instantaneous. Still, General Prochazka managed to cram a maximum amount of terror into the short time that elapsed between taking them captive and reporting to her queen.

  Before departing the Oceane system the Valoureans assembled the AMIE crew in the control centre of the Phemorian vessel and stripped them of their Juju stones — including Swithin, who was still unconscious. The Valoureans took pains not to touch the bare stones and cast them all into a coffer. Out through the front shield window, the AMIE craft could be seen and the distance between the two vessels was widening.

  ‘Does anyone want to tell me where I will find Zaman Vidor and his daughter?’

  There were few among them who knew who that was, but Leal knew and so did Kassa. They had been made privy to the information during their first tour of Module C, when Zeven and Mythric had discovered that Ringbalin had been the child who had saved Zeven’s life when Khalid had attempted to murder him as a babe.

  ‘There is no one by that name on our crew,’ Leal spoke up to explain the crew’s silence.

  ‘Zeven Gudrun, Kale Tane, Starman, Bob, am I ringing any bells yet?’ the general persisted, now focusing her ire on Leal, which was a worry, as she’d already knocked him senseless once today.

  ‘We don’t know where he is.’ Leal knew the answer would not be received well. ‘He’s been on a mission since before we liberated your Qusay from her curse.’

  The general smiled at his reminder. ‘That didn’t quite work as much to your favour as you’d hoped, did it?’

  ‘Well, we didn’t expect medals or anything, but flowers would have been nice.’ He smiled, inviting the back-handed slap to the face which Prochazka was more than happy to provide.

  ‘If someone does not tell me the whereabouts of the man I am seeking, your ship and anyone still alive on board her is going to be blown to bits! You have ten seconds to stop me.’ She closed her eyes to count.

  Leal looked to his crew mates, who all knew there were still at least two crew members on board. Ayliscia Portus, one of the Phemorians on their crew, who never showed emotion, was quietly choking with grief, as Ringbalin had not been captured. But as close as she was to the biologist, she still shook her head ever so slightly to advise Leal to tell them nothing.

  ‘Time’s up,’ Prochazka announced, as through the front shield windows behind her the Astro Marine Institute Explorer could be seen as it exploded and began raining debris down onto the virgin planet of Oceane below.

  The destruction of their ship and captain was devastating. Worse, the crew were restrained and separated, men from the women, leaving only seven-year-old Fari in the company of his mother.

  ‘I want to go with the men,’ the boy had cried.

  ‘You will do as you are told!’ General Prochazka insisted as she dragged Fari’s grandfather from where he’d been herded with the men. ‘Chief Ronan, how wonderful to see you are still living. Now I have the pleasure of avenging all the Phemorian agents you tortured and murdered during your time with the MSS.’ She pulled him up by the neck of his shirt, but his focus was not on her ireful gaze, but on the ring she was wearing on her finger, that was right under his nose at present.

  ‘That’s a very interesting ring you are wearing,’ Zelimir commented, then looked her in the eye. ‘Where in wretchedness did you get it?’

  The query utterly infuriated the general, whereupon she pulled her pulse laser and shot Zelimir Ronan, point blank, through the head.

  ‘You fucking bitch!’ Yasper, Zelimir’s son, went berserk, but was quickly battered back into submission by Valoureans and dragged away with Leal and Swithin.

  Jazmay was truly battling to say silent at this point, but for the sake of her young son and husband, she did.

  The general dropped the ex-chief of the MSS, and noticing his blood on her purple suit, she frowned and conjured up a cloth to wipe it off. ‘Still want to argue, little boy?’ She looked back to young Fari. ‘I’ll happily kill them all.’

  Fari only stared at her, a defiant expression on his face.

  ‘You want to kill me … get in line.’ She signalled her guards to take them away.

  ‘You are already dead,’ Fari replied as he was dragged from the command centre with the others.

  For the most part of the short time they were incarcerated on board the Phemorian craft, Yasper was completely ropable, and Swithin remained blissfully unaware of their circumstance. But just before they were hauled out of the Phemorian craft, Yasper exhausted his cussing and anger and took a seat on the floor of the empty cell, between Leal and Swithin’s slumbering form. Yasper had tried to stir Swithin, hoping to somehow resurrect his father before it was too late, but their project manager snoozed on.

  ‘It doesn’t matter anyway, we’re all restrained and without Ringbalin your father would only bleed out all over again.’ Leal hated to be the voice of reason.

  ‘Where the fuck is Taren?’ Yasper kicked out with the leg that had the restraining device on it, but was subdued by a sad thought. ‘I sure hope she wasn’t on AMIE when she blew.’

  ‘I’m sure she wasn’t.’ Leal swallowed hard, knowing that the captain had not been so fortunate.

  ‘Do you think she got the captain out, and Balin?’ Yasper gently probed his facial injuries, and winced as he assessed how sore they were.

  ‘We can only hope.’ Leal was sorry he couldn’t roust more confidence in his response.

  ‘Why in the world are we in trouble with Phemoria?’ Yasper couldn’t imagine. ‘We just saved their queen from a curse; you’d think they’d be a bit grateful?’

  ‘I think it might have something to do with Zeven’s family feud.’ Swithin rolled onto his back and groaned, holding his head.

  ‘It’s about time you showed up,’ Yasper grumbled.

  ‘Oh, please don’t start with the “Zeven helped Khalid escape from prison” theory.’ Leal waved off Swithin’s suggestion. ‘I put it to the captain and he found the notion laughable.’

  ‘What else could explain the sudden divide in their family?’ Swithin proffered.

  ‘How does that relate to this?’ Leal posed.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Swithin held his head, which clearly pained him. ‘Perhaps Satomi told her sister Zeven helped Khalid, the man who murdered her, and persuaded her sister to seek retribution?’

  ‘Against their own children? And why would Zeven help a man who betrayed his family?’ Yasper argued. ‘It all seems very unlikely, when the Qusay was so very thankful for our assistance with her curse.’

  ‘Well, I thought Satomi would be a bit more fucking grateful I brought her back from the dead,’ Swithin countered. ‘But that doesn’t seem to be the case now, does it?’

  ‘I think our time might be better spent speculating why a comment about a piece of jewellery got Zelimir killed?’ Leal proffered.

  ‘It wasn’t the comment,’ Yasper admitted. ‘The MSS did kill Phemorian spies.’

  ‘But the way Zelimir phrased the question, “where in wretchedness, did you find it?”’ Leal quoted. ‘That’s an interesting comment from someone who sees auras and energy fields, as Zelimir did.’

  ‘You think he was implying it was cursed?’ Yasper followed.

  Leal shrugged and nodded to indicate it was worth further consideration.

  ‘What else did I miss?’ Swithin sat up, and was alarmed when neither of his companions seemed very chatty any longer.

  Pangs of shock pulsed through Leal’s being as he realised Swithin had no idea his brother had been killed.

  ‘Where is Lucian?’ Swithin noted who was missing. ‘And Mythric and Ringbalin?’

  ‘We don’t know,’ Leal gave the easy answer.

  ‘Perhaps they got away?’ Swithin was more hopeful of a rescue.

&nbs
p; ‘Leal?’ Yasper knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

  ‘Okay, what else?’ Swithin urged to be enlightened.

  ‘They blew up the ship.’ Yasper hated saying it, almost as much as Swithin hated hearing it.

  ‘Was anyone still on board?’ Swithin sat up, his anger finally overcoming his pain. ‘Like my brother? Your captain!’

  ‘Leal was knocked out when apprehended, and the only reason I wasn’t was so that they could use me to keep Jaz in line,’ Yasper said. ‘I didn’t know who the Phemorians had captured and who they’d missed, until we were all assembled to watch the ship destroyed and my father shot in the head before my eyes!’

  ‘Fuck!’ Swithin backed off. ‘Zelimir, shit! Sorry.’ He took a moment to absorb the tragedy. ‘So no one knows if those missing made it out or not.’

  Yasper looked to Leal, who’d already confessed to him the sorry state he’d last seen the captain in.

  ‘Last I saw the captain, he was slowly suffocating in a defunct space pod, in the launch bay,’ Leal was distressed to admit. ‘I do believe Prochazka left him there.’

  Swithin’s jaw clenched tight as he processed the news. ‘And Taren?’

  Both men shook their heads, uncertain.

  ‘I don’t think she was on board,’ Leal ventured to say. ‘The captain was waiting for her to return from a meeting with Anselm when the Phemorians showed up.’

  ‘Well, that’s something.’ Swithin found a silver lining, which was so very unlike him. ‘Before this thing is over, I predict there’s going to be one hell of a bitch fight.’

  The notion brought some cheer to their otherwise abysmal circumstance. ‘If my wife has anything to do with it, there sure will be,’ Yasper warranted.

  ‘I just hope we are all still around to see it.’ Leal joined them in their happy place for a second, as the thought of watching anyone smack down Prochazka was a very pleasing one at present.

  The door to their cell opened and half a dozen Valoureans entered and dragged the men to their feet.

  ‘Speaking of bitches …’ Swithin’s snide remark got him elbowed in the gut.