by Jean Kilczer
“Get down, Jules,” a woman's voice shouted in Terran.
I threw myself into the water, not about to argue with anyone up there killing BEMs.
Dirt and roots erupted into the air with a blast like thunder and rained down on me. The narrow stream lifted into a wave. I held my breath as it rolled over me.
I started to get up when another explosion, from the other side of the ravine, threw dirt again and sent the wave seething back with white teeth. I held my breath until it dissipated, with my face in mud.
“You can get up now,” the woman's voice said pleasantly from the rim of the ravine. “And don't forget your weapon.”
I looked up at a young Asian woman, dressed in camouflage. Stringy black hair fluttered across her full cheeks in a breeze as she stared down at me, a heavy-duty beamer slung over her shoulder, her hands hooked in the pockets of her pants, and smirked. “It's safe now.”
I got up and wiped mud from my face and my stingler, then holstered it and picked up the BEM's weapon.
She extended a hand. “Need help out of there?”
I took her hand. “Why not?”
Her strong grip belied her slender body, her fine-boned hand as she took my wrist and pursed her lips, like a pink blossom, as she yanked me over the edge. I tried to stand, but my knees gave out and I slid to the ground.
“Not feeling so hot, superstar?”
Only Chancey ever called me that. I took her extended hand and dragged myself to my feet. “Who—“
“Am I?” Her slanted eyes widened into exotic almonds of black. “They call me Reika.”
“Did Chancey tell you—“
“Where you were? Yes.”
“Are they all OK? Joe? He was wounded.”
“Bat took care of him. The beam burned through his flesh. It didn't hit any organs. He'll be all right.”
“Bat?” I asked. Not sure I'd heard right.
“Farley's a combat medic. We just call him Bat for short. That big furry dude, the Vegan? He was crying like a baby, worrying about you.” Her soft cheeks rounded and she brushed hair off her face as she chuckled.
“Huff. He's a good friend.” Water puddled at my feet. I began to shake and couldn't stop.
She smirked. “I thought he might be your mother until I saw you.”
“He tries to be.” I felt dizzy. She braced herself as I leaned against her.
“Bat!” she called. “Help me with this tag before I have to carry him back to the truck myself.”
Bat shut off their armored vehicle and trotted up, a chunky man perhaps in his thirties, bald and square-jawed, with kindly pale eyes. His cheeks dimpled as he smiled at me. “We were worried about you, Bubba.”
Bubba? I thought.
He took my wrist and put my arm around his shoulder as they helped me toward the BEM vehicle.
Another male Terran, a scrawny loose-jointed young tag with long sandy-colored hair and a bony face, dressed in camouflage, dragged out the wounded BEM and slammed him to the ground.
The BEM cried out, a sound like the keen of a bird of prey, and writhed in agony. The soldier aimed his heavy beam rifle at him.
“No, wait!” I shouted as the BEM curled into a protective ball.
The kid turned and stared at me.
“What's the tag's name?” I asked.
“Wolfie,” Bat said.
“Wolfie, don't—“ I started as he aimed at the BEM and fired.
Smoking organs oozed out of the BEM's ripped mantle. A thick yellow fluid puddled around them.
“Jesus!” I whispered. “Don't you people believe in taking prisoners?”
“You know what they do to their prisoners?” Reika said fiercely.
“I do.”
She let go of me and slid into the driver's seat of their armored truck.
“In here.” Bat helped me into the rear seat of the BEM's vehicle.
I crawled inside and exhaled a breath as I slumped into the strange seat, with holes for tentacles. My wet hands were numb. I wrapped them around my shaking arms and rubbed them. I felt nauseated and disoriented.
“Lie down,” Bat said and lifted my legs onto the seat.
Through the open window, the BEM's body exuded a sickening odor of rotted fish. I closed my eyes and relaxed my mind as his kwaii, his soul in Terran terms, squeezed out of his ruined body and frantically searched for direction.
There's nothing to fear, brother, I sent. Your anguish is over.
Where am I?
In geth. The state between lives.
I'm afraid, brother! Where should I go?
You have nothing to fear. Great Mind will direct you to a new lifebind, probably on some other planet.
When? I'm in a void. I have no substance and I want to scream!
I felt the touch of a great love, beyond anything I'd ever known even with my daughter or Willa, as Great Mind approached. It wasn't the first time.
I'm being called, the BEM's spirit sent.
Go in peace, brother.
You too, my brother.
Then my kwaii was gently nudged aside. This was not my calling.
Wolfie studied a small yellow-stained unit he'd taken from the BEM's body. “Locater.” He winked at Bat and got into the driver's seat.
Bat took my pulse and I saw him shake his head. “Put the pedal down, Wolfie.” He took a rag from behind the front seat and wiped my face.
I felt the vehicle crunch along a dirt road. The buildings became sparse as we left Korschaff. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“Back to base camp,” Bat said. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
“That's the least of what I need. Have you got a canteen of water?” I felt weak as the proverbial kitten and my throat was desert dry.
“I do. But with all that mud you're wearing, you could swallow some deadly Denebrian parasite or other. Can't have that, Bubba.”
I laid my arm across my eyes. “Christ and Buddha. What else can go wrong?”
“Shock,” Bat said.
“Why not?” I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.
Chapter Four
“Can you believe they don't have an SPS?” Joe flung aside the tent flap and strode toward my cot in the base camp. Bat's “Do Not Disturb” sign fluttered to the ground.
Night had stretched its wings over Denebria's dying sun like a bird guarding prey, and only a pale glow of Western light escaped to frame the cloth window.
With my back propped on pillows, I stopped chewing the mock steak, piled with dripping mashed potatoes. “No SPS?” I didn't want to tell Joe, but I'd been so concerned with my own needs I hadn't thought about it.
“That's what I said. Goddammit. No SPS!” He made a fist to slam against the wall and realized it was made of cloth.
I held onto my tray. The bowl of crisp salad with slices of tomatoes and avocados slid and I grabbed it. I gripped the mug of Earthbrew coffee with the other hand.
Someone had vibed my clothes while Bat helped me thermicone off my beard, and shower. I'd brushed my teeth. I'd wanted to eat first, but Bat insisted I get the mud and those possible parasites washed off first. Good idea, really, although I could've saved any for Huff. Bat wouldn't allow him into my tent. He said that with the state Huff was in, he would've just upset me and I didn't need that. I acquiesced, but Bat didn't understand how Huff and I consoled each other.
“Who are these people, anyway?” I asked Joe. “Not that I'm complaining. Man, talk about arriving in the nick. They saved my ass.”
“Didn't they tell you? It's a Shaka team from Alpha.” He went to the window and stared out, his hands clasped behind his back. “When Alpha lost touch with Sojourner, they sent in a team to search for us on Denebria.”
“Then why no SPS?”
“Alpha hasn't been in contact with the BEMs since they declared the Twelve-Year-War, and lost, over a hundred years ago.”
“I know. But what changed?” I stabbed some lettuce leaves, added a slice of tomat
o and avocado, and chewed.
“We didn't know the bastards had gone from individual telepaths to developing a hive mind.” He dragged a chair close to my cot and sat down. “When the Shaka team made planetfall, the BEMs triangulated with their tel links, homed in and sent a missile that crippled the ship. The team was lucky to land and unload their armored vehicle.
“So why not the SPS?”
“It was an integral part of their ship. The BEMs blew it up. I hate to tell you this, but we lost the ship we stole from the BEMs, too.”
“Oh, shit. I saw them hit the starboard engine as you tags took off.”
“They melted it. Chancey brought us down, but that bird isn't going back up.” Joe folded his hands and stared at them.
“What, Joe?” I speared the last of the steak and chewed. “We've still got the trucks, right?”
“Two of the Shaka team members didn't make it.”
I stopped chewing.
“The team dug in around their ship, trying to protect it when a BEM platoon attacked. They were overrun and two of them were taken prisoner. The team leader and his radio man.” He looked up and sighed. “These three escaped in the truck.”
My stomach tightened and I was afraid to hear the rest.
“Next morning they watched from cover in the city while the BEMs publically stripped the uniforms off their two captives and fed them live to that thing you saw in the BEM ship.” His jaw muscles twitched. “Tore them limb from limb and was eating while they were still alive.”
“Jesus and Buddha. Bountiful the Profuse.” I laid down my fork.
“The Denebrians don't hate us, kid. They're scared shitless of meeting the same fate if they help us.”
“It would've been our fate, Joe, if we hadn't escaped when we did. You think Alpha will send in another team?”
“After losing a W-CIA and a Shaka team?” He shook his head. “They're probably gearing up for an all-out invasion.”
“If the BEMs have an SPS—”
“They have ours, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Then they're in touch with their operatives on Alpha. That's what Older Brother was counting on.”
Joe studied his folded hands and nodded.
“We've got to get behind the BEM lines and locate an SPS,” I said, “or steal a BEM ship and—”
“And take off for Alpha ourselves.”
“Yes, or that.” I thought of the Denebrian kids peeking out at us from under straw hats. “Alpha's got to be told that Tau Ceti is the BEM's homeworld. If the Alliance attacks them there and cuts off their supply lines…it could save thousands of Denebrian lives.”
Joe got up and stretched his back. “I'm going to have a talk with the team…or what's left of it.” He grimaced and gingerly touched the bandage on his side. “Remind me never to have supper with you again.”
“Again? Oh, that time on Halcyon. Yeah.” Ki Rowdinth, a lunatic leader of the Vermakt people of planet Fartherland, had sent a unit of his Elite Guards to capture me to use my tel skills, and to kill Joe. We'd barely escaped through a tunnel.
I touched the welts on my cheek. “Or go on yet another mission with my former father in law.”
“Where'd the team get all this stuff?” I gestured at the tent. “From Korschaff?”
Joe nodded. “Seems the Denebrians are happy enough to trade for Interstel creds. Too bad they don't have weapons to sell.”
A heavy shadow suddenly appeared on the outside of the tent, rimmed by lights from the camp. It wrinkled the wall as it pressed inward.
“What the hell?” The tray slid off my lap.
Joe drew his stingler and aimed.
“Jules. Terran friend!” It was Huff's voice.
I breathed again.
“That dumb bastard!” Joe holstered his weapon. “He almost got himself killed.”
“Huff,” I called. “I'm OK. I'm all right. Don't worry.”
He sobbed. “I worried the fur off my right paw! I have it tucked inside my pouch in a little pile.”
“Ah, Huff,” I said. “Why'd you do that?”
“I wanted to go back for you. They wouldn't turn around the ship.”
“No. You couldn't have gone back for me.”
“I have been worried in my liver for you.” He leaned on the side of the tent and it began to fold inward.
“Huff! Don't!” I yelled as poles creaked and snapped from his heavy weight. The tent crashed down and settled around me and Joe. I threw my hands over my head and yelled as a pole landed across my cot.
“That stupid son of a bitch!” Joe shouted from somewhere beneath the collapsed roof.
“What happened?” I heard Bat yell, then the sound of running feet. “Is it the BEMs?”
“Sorry am I!” Huff cried. “I will favor you my last candy bar, Jules Terran.”
“I'm going to take that candy bar,” Joe squeezed out, “and shove it up that idiot's ass!”
I heard Chancey yell from somewhere in the deep shadows outside, and the sound of a body thudding into the ground.
“You dumb crotemunger!” Reika said. “You just stepped on my backpack. The Land Warrior computer's in there!”
I lowered my head to my hand, there in the dark, with the tent draped over me. Joe was crawling around, trying to find the flap. Huff was gone. Probably hiding out somewhere. Chancey was arguing with Reika about leaving her backpack in the path. Only aloof Wolfie remained somewhere apart from the circus.
I sighed. This was the team that had to infiltrate enemy lines and steal their prize possession.
“Surrender is not an option,” Joe said and strapped on his stingler. As a former W-CIA counter-terrorist captain, Joe naturally became our new platoon leader. “We're just canned goods to the BEMs.”
We all nodded. When said and done, a quick shot to the head is preferable to being eaten alive.
“Let's go.” Joe glanced around at the team. “Luck.”
“Luck,” we murmured and climbed into the two vehicles.
We had waited out the day in camp, making preparations for our raid. Reika and Wolfie showed us the workings of the Ground and Air Warrior systems, with helmet displays, computer capabilities, mechanical beetles that could fly above the enemy with 360° cameras and relay their positions, a ground sensor on wheels that could check out a structure or an area before we entered, and right itself, if need be, and rifles that could shoot around corners. “Putting eyes into the enemy,” Reika had explained with a grin. Chancey was close to drooling, but there were no spare units for us. In fact, the captured systems from the two dead platoon members were now in BEM hands.
It was nightfall as we drove onto sandy terrain and headed north, toward the BEMs' front lines. The cold desert air was conducive to keeping us awake. I zippered my jacket and lifted the turtleneck around my ears. The smell of ground cover was bitter, but not unpleasant.
Huff squirmed on the flat metal seat, with holes for BEM tentacles, in the rear of the vehicle as we bounced over dunes. I smiled and patted his arm.
“My liver is glad for your recovery, my Jules friend.” He rubbed his wet nose against my head. It made me shiver, but I laughed.
Huff is a simple soul in many ways, but he comes from a predatory bear-like Vegan ancestry, and is ferocious in battle, capable of ripping an enemy apart with bare teeth and claws.
I sighed and stared out the window. Two moons played tag among the crystal dome of stars in the clear desert air. Somewhere, a night hunter howled and was answered by his pack. We were hunters ourselves, in search of the enemy-held SPS unit that could prevent a war or bring it to the enemies' doorstep. We called our mission Operation Ceti, compliments of Chancey, who drove the vehicle.
Joe sat beside him.
Reika, Wolfie, and Bat rode in their armored truck behind us. We traveled dark, and stayed off the stone road, with only the moons to light a path between brittle shrubs and rocky crevices. Dried branches cracked beneath our metal wheels. Small creatures scurried away as we surpr
ised a world that had never known the grind of wheels or the whine of motors.
Joe halted us on a ridge above a wide valley.
Below, the BEMs' main camp.
“Keep your thoughts down,” I told the team as we gathered beside the armored truck. A cold wind skimmed sand and whipped it against my legs. “They can't affect you with mind attacks, but they can receive your thoughts.”
Chancey squatted and checked his stingler's ring for grains of sand that might have gotten into it. His dark skin with its curves of muscles, his tight black hair and black leather clothing reflected little light and would afford him protection on this dangerous foray.
“What about you?” Wolfie said to me. “Can they make a grab for your mind and control you?” He flicked a glance at my stingler. His bony face, his sunken chest and scraggly light hair, gave him the look of a scarecrow in deep shadows.
I shifted position. “If I feel an intrusive probe that's liable to take over my mind, I'll hand you my weapons.”
Wolfie glanced at Joe. “I say we disarm him now. We don't need a loose cannon.”
Reika hooked her thumbs behind the straps of her backpack. Her cheeks rounded with a smirk as she peered up at Wolfie “Why don't we just feed him to your wild relatives while we're at it, Wolfie? You'd send him into battle unarmed?”
“He's got us for protection,” Wolfie said.
“What's your take on this, Chancey?” Joe asked.
Chancey stood up and holstered his stingler. “Can you give the tag a guarantee,” he asked Wolfie, “that you'll be around to protect him?”
Huff sat on his haunches beside me. I worried about him. His broad body, reflecting moonlight in a white sheen of fur, could give him away even at night. “I will guarantee my person,” he said, “that if Jules Terran friend separates his mind from his body again, I will…” He looked at me. “I will…sit on him.”
Bat leaned against the vehicle's fender and chuckled. His pale eyes, so gentle they were almost incongruous within his broad, chiseled face, surveyed me. “Did they take over your mind,” he asked me with raised brows, “when they were interrogating you?”