"Hello everyone," he said in Trinarieit. They looked at him incoherently. Gem translated to Signite. No response.
"Hello," Ryan said in English.
One of the women almost fainted. A man stepped forward. He had a thick scraggy beard that hid his filthy face.
"You speak English? You are from Earth?"
"Do all of you understand me?"
They nodded back. A number of them started to talk all at once. Ryan held up his hands.
"How long have you been in captivity?"
"Two, maybe three weeks," shrugged the bearded one. "What the hell are these things? They killed my buddy. They almost killed me - more than once! And are these things your friends?” he pointed at the Showmish.
"Yes. They certainly are our friends. Are any of you sick?"
"No, just cuts and bruises mainly," said another.
"Good. You will have to go through a sterilization process. For now, just make yourselves comfortable in the cargo bay.”
He waved them inside. They hesitated.
“It’s OK. You will be safe in here.”
The party trudged in quietly.
“I’ll join you in a moment.” He turned his attention to the Showmish. "Thank you again. I'm sorry, you said your name was Hishkar?"
"No, HishTar." She bowed her head respectfully.
Ryan mimicked the movement.
"You are the one," she said as-a-matter-of-fact. "So it is a human that will hold the peoples together, unite them against the oppressor."
"You talk prophetically, like another old woman I know."
She hissed to herself for a moment, as if in realization. "I am too humble to accept such praise. I am merely one with a gift of sight."
"You read minds?"
"I am of the Sisters-of-Soom. We exercise our minds to reach out to others. I am here to reach out to you."
"What do you mean?"
"I am here to teach you. You will see. First, we must return to the plain. They are waiting. We are to have a celebration of your arrival."
"But there is still another ship left, it must be..."
"Not so," she shook her head. "All ships have been seized. I know this.
“How can you know?”
“We are all connected through the weave of life. The weave is thick and strong on our home. My sisters have informed me the warriors have taken all. They will be there when we arrive."
"Confirmed," reported Gem. "The vessels in question are lifting-off and traveling toward said destination."
He looked into those strange reptilian eyes and was almost lost in their hypnotic effect. "I'm impressed. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable, HishTar.”
He helped her up the ramp. We'll be lifting off in a few minutes. I’ll have to leave you in the cargo bay – sterilization protocol – you understand?"
“Of course. You need not concern yourself with my needs. Go, fly your ship.”
He glanced at the humans as the ramp closed.
“I'll be back soon. My robot will bring food."
“Gem, what do Showmish eat?"
"They are vegetarians, our food stores should be compatible."
"Arrange something for her, as well, Gem."
“HishTar, I’ll be back soon.”
She nodded. The frail-looking Showmish had lowered herself to the floor and was seemingly meditating, somehow content.
Ryan went back to the cockpit but not before stopping to check on Aviore once again. Ziggy was standing over her, monitoring patiently.
"How is she doing?"
"All medical data shows that she is recovering quite nicely. Her systems are functioning within adequate parameters considering the scope of the damaged components."
"She's not a machine," Ryan stated with annoyance. He ran his hand over her cheek. She was warm. Her temperature was high, a slight fever, but her color had come back, and her breathing was strong.
"Ziggy, Gem probably asked already - I need you to do guest duty again. More captured slaves. Same as before, OK?"
Ziggy nodded but didn't move.
"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be OK. She’s out of the tough spot now. Go ahead now."
Ziggy hobbled off.
Ryan gave Aviore's hand a squeeze. She twitched a little but remained in a deep sedated sleep. He headed for the cockpit.
* * *
The sky was a bright yellow when the Dancing Queen landed in the meadow. The morning had long since passed. The recently captured slaverships were also present. Thousands of Showmish were moving around the clearing, busily loading and unloading the ships with a variety of materials.
Ryan donned his envirosuit and opened the cargo hatch door. All the humans were busily eating and Ziggy was shaving a bearded man. It was a sight to behold. Ryan laughed.
"Make sure you get behind his ears," he chuckled. Ziggy's small light indicators blipped a confused message at him.
"Forget it, Ziggy. Just a joke."
He addressed the Earth-group again. "I'll return in a while. By the way, my robot's name is Ziggy and he understands English."
HishTar was already at the hatch. He joined her.
"You will not need that suit, I assure you."
He hesitated a moment, then twisted off his helmet and tossed it onto the cargo bay floor.
As the ramp lowered the fresh yellow jungle air swept in. It smelled sweet and rich like fresh cut grass, and flame. Fires were burning in the camp.
"We will be having a celebration tonight in your honor. It will be a joyous event. The coming of the warrior."
"Isn't that a bit premature?" He was feeling more than a bit fed up at all of this hocus-pocus crap. First the Xeronians and now the Showmish.
"You cannot discount the smallest flame, as it can turn into a raging fire."
"Yeah, sure," he said under his breath, inspecting the clearing. It was absolutely crawling with Showmish. Where had they all come from?
The five slaverships around the edge of the clearing formed a circle. Ryan had landed the Dancing Queen near its center.
"You shouldn't have such a population so concentrated. They should be dispersed. If a Xi-ship comes..."
"Nonsense. We have survived a long time under the great oppression, and we will continue to survive, and we shall see our day of freedom!"
"Are there any more humans?"
"Yes, they are being fed and cared for. I will have them all escorted to your ship now if you wish."
"How many of them are there?"
"There are 22.”
"Oh, quite a few then. Please have them escorted to my ship. Ziggy will take of them unless there are some individuals that are very sick or hurt."
"None of the humans are deathly ill. A few have sustained injury. We have already attended to them."
"Thank you, HishTar, and please convey my thanks to the others. It has been a successful operation. I would appreciate it if I could meet your leaders and the prospective captains of these ships."
"That is where we are headed," she announced.
"Of course," said Ryan, not surprised in the least.
They approached a large group. The surrounding Showmish were busily constructing strange wood erections. Each reached all the way across the clearing.
HishTar introduced the captains one at a time.
"Captain Shobotsh, of our newly ordained ship Sbash Nateer."
They exchanged respectful bows.
He leaned over to HishTar, was about to ask what Sbash meant, but she answered his question before he could ask it. "Sbash means Freedom. Nateer means… one. I will translate our numerology, as well.”
They continued with the introductions.
"Captain Roshesh, of the ship Sbash Two. Captain Hushob, of the ship Sbash Three. Captain Whushob, of the ship Sbash Four. Captain YushTar, of the ship Sbash Five."
He had to give them credit for originality. At least he wouldn’t forget the names, though he would probably mix them up.
"Have
any of you captained a ship before?"
They all nodded in affirmation.
"All of you have?" returned a surprised Ryan. "That’s great! Do your crews have the necessary skills – you know, navigation, engineering, tactical, medical?"
The all nodded again.
"Really?"
"Do you realize what the stakes are in this war I am about to wage?"
Captain Roshesh spoke softly. "We are all aware of the probabilities of meeting death in this war, Captain. We are ready. We are at your disposal to fight at any time."
Captain followed, "We are reviewing each vessel’s condition at this time. Some have sustained rather serious damage. All repairs must be complete, and all systems checked thoroughly before we lift off. We expect this will take a full day before we are ready."
"That sounds exceptional. I’m impressed that you have the knowledge to accomplish this.”
Each captain bowed.
“As for my plans, I am heading to the Signite system first. I expect we may run into other Xi-Empire ships on the way there. I intend to hijack these ships and add them to our fleet. We will free, and hopefully, enlist any slaves we find on board. We will aid the Signite resistance in getting control of their home again."
They went over a number of different strategies that Ryan wanted the captains to know intrinsically. It took most of the day, and part of the night. The captains proved to be very knowledgeable in their field and had interesting perspectives on engagement strategies.
That night the air cleared, revealing the stars at their ultimate beauty. A vast golden nebula streamed across the northern part of the sky. If one looked close enough, one could see reds and blues interwoven within. Ryan couldn’t help but admire the sight.
“The night skies of Shawma are truly beautiful.”
HishTar had come to join him. “The magnificence of the Gushwan constellation there,” she pointed to a formation of stars to the east. “The Great Warrior of Gushwan, can you see him?”
It took a second for Ryan to make it out. “Yeah, I can. Compelling isn’t it, how we can draw so much from randomness.”
“Not all is random, Ryan, you must realize that by now? Come,” she took his hand in hers, a soft, warm, leathery touch, “my sisters have arrived.”
Some of the other Showmish had started dancing. It was as if electricity was charging the very air. The arrival of the Sisters-of-Soom was a big deal.
Lines formed into concentric circles around the primary fire pit. HishTar led Ryan through to the innermost circle, reserved for the sisters. He sat down on a log, passing a nervous glance around. There were familiar faces, the captains, the leaders of the raiding parties, seemingly all the Showmish of demonstrated power.
The fire was fed with more fuel, allowing it to grow higher in the night sky, crackling and spitting sparks as it roared. All around him, the Showmish began to hiss and chant musical tones. Drums started, and the dances began.
HishTar looked over to him. “Have you decided?”
The question caught Ryan off-guard. “On what exactly?”
“Who you serve. Who you are. Who you will be.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This.” She tapped a clawed finger upon his chest. “Is filled with anger, with hate. It will tear you apart. It will make you weak when you must be the strongest of all of us. Will you let it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You must listen to the authentic you, the core you, to survive what is to come.”
“Sure,” Ryan replied, more confused than inspired.
HishTar clapped her claws together, and the music raised in volume. Sparks flew up into the night sky as the fire roared.
"Your bravery has earned you a special gift from the heart of Shawma. You are to learn the secret of the eye of the mind. There will be a time where this will be the only way to save that which is yours.”
“What?”
She cut him off with a raised palm. “First, you must calm yourself. Close your eyes and listen. Hear what is in the wind.”
Great, more hocus-pocus.
He closed his eyes as requested. The fire was hot on his face and the drums sounded a steady rhythm that seemed to permeate through his body.
The Sisters-of-Soom sang into the wind.
A soft rhythm of whispers grew louder, it was a haunting sound. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Unusual smells were drifting in the wind, pungent and bitter with a taste of vanilla. He was getting a little light-headed, a little dizzy, but didn’t seem to care. He followed the music, so beautiful, flowing on different levels. He could feel HishTar beside him, a comforting warmth.
“Come,” she said, with a slight touch. "Let me show you."
He floated around the fire, touching each sister, feeling their thoughts, merging, becoming one. He could feel the others, out beyond the fire, thousands of minds projecting their fear, their joy, their pain. He pulled back, panicking. It was too much. HishTar was there. “Focus. Control what you receive. Someone out there needs you. Go to her.”
There was no distance, no travel time. He was just there. He felt the cold blue of machines, at the same time, felt the blood coarse through his body, and the beating of his own heart. He looked outward through eyes so alien and saw out further than he could imagine, into the very depths of space.
He turned inward, touched the knowledge, skimming over it. It was overwhelming. A small orange signature worked amongst hot red ones. He felt... fondness?
He pulled out of the metallic memory and touched her. A dream, so dark. A feeling of helplessness and unbridled fear unquenchable. Dark shapes crept amongst terrible images of violence and pain. The hopelessness. He was frozen, unable to move, a powerless victim. He had to fight it back, to destroy it. He searched for warm memories, let them flood over the bad, suppressing the darkness. He scoured through the memories, a researcher desperate for the proper material, tossing through libraries of memories, touching them only momentarily to be recalled, relived. Old memories came, like waves in the ocean. But they were jumbled, poisoned by the recent thoughts. He shared his own, remembered the Shawma sunset, day turned to night, and the sky lit with the colorful nebula and stars dancing above, and he impressed the image and the feelings of the peace. He could feel the warmth grow, the pain, the fear, subside as memories faded to only lingering hints. What was left was a quiet, comforting, peace.
A cold rush and he was back. The bonfire was crackling, the drums reverberating. The Sisters-of-Soom were looking at him, eyes judging yet soft. They did not say a word.
The music was still there, as an echo coursing through his veins. He heard a whisper in the night wind... "You do have the gift."
He looked into the fire and watched it burn, and said nothing. There was nothing to say.
The circle opened. Two figures walked forward slowly, a spindly mechanical man supporting a woman layered in bandages. Her face, though scarred, beautiful by the light of the flame.
Aviore.
He went to stand, but too quickly. A brief bout of dizziness surged over him. Reaching out, some steadied him, and he moved more slowly.
She was there, in front of him, as big as life itself. Her gentle eyes watched his every move. A warm smile danced on her face in the firelight. With one look, he knew why he had fallen in love. He was at a loss for words.
"Hello, Ryan."
"You shouldn’t be out here, you could..."
"No, Ryan," she cut him off. "I want to be here, with you. I need to.” She stepped forward and stumbled a little. Ziggy was there. Ryan had a hold of her just as quickly. He held her in his arms and looked into those captivating eyes.
"I knew you would come for me," she said to him softly. "Somehow, I knew you would find me."
They kissed, passionately, devoid of anything around them.
She was trembling, standing was taxing her strength.
"Here, sit." Ryan kept his arm around her. She leaned against h
im.
"These are my new friends and allies."
"Let me see." She spoke an eloquent Showmish, matching every subtle nuance expertly.
HishTar replied back, a very pleased look on her old face.
Ryan watched her with utter fascination.
"What, did you forget so quickly?" she teased, “I am an expert, after all.”
“That you are.” He said, unable to hide his admiration.
She drew closer. Her hair tickled his nose, but he didn't mind.
The night passed too quickly. They talked of many things but avoided the topic of war, the Xi-Empire, the torture of slavery. Aviore's knowledge of the Showmish culture was impressive. She had clearly devoted long hours to the study of these people. Ryan often found himself sitting out of the conversation, just enjoying the night. Ziggy sat perched near the fire, his metallic body glinting reflected firelight. He seemed to be enjoying this – in many ways he was sentient, and tonight he was simply - living. Ryan made a decision not to deactivate him again. It just didn't seem right.
The night passed into a spectacular sunrise. With it came the mist of yellow, growing denser as it reacted with the sunlight.
Aviore was exhausted, and he could tell she was in pain.
"It is time we retire," he announced. He bowed slightly to HishTar. "Thank you. I don't understand these things very well, but I will attempt to practice what you have shown me."
"The time will come, Commander, when you will need it. I assure you."
"You mean, Captain," corrected Ryan. He picked Aviore up in his arms and carried her off to the ship. Ziggy ambled behind.
"Ryan, what happened to you? You are... much bigger than I remember."
Ryan chuckled. "That's what hard physical labor and steroids do to you, I guess. Don't worry, I've been checked out by some very good physicians, and I’m fine.” He strived to change the subject, knowing full well certain things may not be complete truths.
“We have so much catching up to do. I'm just glad to have you here."
"So am I," she said warmly.
The Dancing Queen loomed above them. Her eyes turned back to him, amazement on her face.
“I know. Like I said, we have a lot to talk about. This is my ship - the Dancing Queen.”
A Bellicose Dance Page 39