Veiled Planet (Hidden World Trilogy Book 1)

by Teagan Kearney

  As the craft lost height, she could see heads turning up to watch. Spears or fists were shaken at her, while the front riders held their hands up to slow those behind. She scanned the riders for Rishi or Ikeya but it was impossible to spot either of them amongst so many. Bringing the helijet down about a quarter of a klick ahead, she exited the cabin, praying fear wouldn't paralyze her.

  Don’t think, just do, she repeated to herself as she put one foot in front of the other and walked away from safety. The earth shook with the reverberations of the oncoming men and animals. Pushing her hair behind her ears, she came to a stop, smoothed her tunic, and controlled the trembling in her legs by holding her back straight and head erect. She stared straight ahead as she waited for the riders to reach her.

  Lorkan left his room and headed for the Medical Block. At last the council had responded. Two days he’d waited, going to see Bryson each morning to check the doctor hadn’t gone behind his back to circumvent the appeal. With his response in hand, he’d be able to demand the request for those procedures be removed from Kara’s medical data. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Bryson's face. Then he would go home. Kara would be frustrated and irritated to be stuck in the shelter, but he hoped she was scared or sensible enough to stay there until he came for her.

  Bryson kept him waiting till he was ready to kick down the door, and when he finally made it into the office, Bryson merely glanced at the legal notification flashing on Lorkan's comunit, and shrugged his shoulders.

  “That's useless now,” he said. “Or didn't you notice the preparations for evacuation?”

  “Evacuation? Whatever for? Why?”

  “The Maruts are attacking. They’ve declared war on us. Great Universe! Where have you been? There are multitudes of warriors approaching the colony as we speak.”

  Lorkan stared at the doctor.

  “I’m not making it up. It’s all over the vidnews. If you’ll excuse me.” He nodded toward the exit. “I’ve got a lot of work to do before I leave.”

  The number of people moving around the base had increased. Lorkan had seen them but was too absorbed in his own affairs to register the worried faces of parents carrying bags, herding their children toward the shuttle port or cadets full of self-importance sprinting here and there with messages from one official to another. He changed direction abruptly, heading for the administrative headquarters instead of the heliport. He could offer his aid, and if they took advantage of his linguistic skills, he'd be in the tight loop of officials who had the requisite information and made the decisions. In the meantime, Kara was safe, far from any conflict.

  The baby-faced cadet announced him with enthusiasm. “Dr. Lorkan Marshall reporting for duty, sir.”

  “Come in, Lorkan, come in.” Commander Hamlyn dismissed the cadet with a wave of his hand, turning the movement into a sign for Lorkan to take a seat. “I was wondering when you’d surface. I assumed that was you taking off the other night, though you’ve never been one to run from a fight. Not your style, is it, Lorkan?”

  Lorkan grinned ruefully at the colony’s chief officer. They’d had many run-ins during the last fifteen years of Hamlyn running the base, but each respected the other and had, when a looming crisis merited it, aligned themselves on the same side.

  “Sorry to hear about your daughter. You know I had little choice but to sign Bryson’s application.”

  “Water under the bridge, Commander. What’s the latest update on the situation with the Maruts?”

  “To be honest, unless we can solve the problem before they arrive, our work here will have been wasted. You and I have the same goals, Lorkan. I have a feeling that entering their territory and taking your daughter the way we did more than upset them. What I don’t understand is why?” He gave Lorkan a shrewd look. “Do you?”

  “Kara married one of them.” Lorkan watched the old soldier digest his bombshell. “Ikeya’s nephew, Rishi.”

  Hamlyn tapped at his screen for a minute, bringing up images taken during last year’s trade visit.

  “Ah, this one?”

  Lorkan peered at the screen, “Maybe. He’s sitting right next to Ikeya—learning the ropes I’d say.”

  “Mmm… that adds a twist I hadn't foreseen. Do you think this is about getting his wife back?”

  “It’s possible,” said Lorkan. “We know how fiercely protective of the family unit their society is.”

  “I hate to ask you this, but if Kara has formed a partnership with one of them, would she consider, on a temporary basis of course, returning to live with them? Just as a way of pacifying them in the short term, and we can work out something else for the long term. I know our specialists were like starving people who couldn’t remember the last time they’d eaten. She’s provided more data for research than any other single person since we first landed. What do you think? Is it worth a try?”

  Lorkan thought Kara would concur most heartily, but he agreed with his daughter’s assessment—the Artefact had to remain a secret. If the Council thought they might gain advanced technology by locating an ancient spaceship, he didn’t trust them to keep any treaty, no matter how virtuous the intentions had been when the agreements had been signed. Humans were still notoriously greedy when it came to self-advancement. He nodded. “I’m pretty sure she’ll be amenable. I’ll head over to Communications and speak to her right away. She can be here by evening.” He stood and saluted Hamlyn.

  “Cut that out, Lorkan,” said the commander, with a grin. “You’re a civilian. Oh, and it’ll be a good idea for you to be on the team that meets them. Your face will be a familiar one to the older negotiators, and you may even be related to some of them now. Once you’ve contacted Kara, get yourself to the Trade Delegates center.” He raised his eyebrows, “I know you have history with them,” he and Lorkan exchanged looks, “but since you resigned, they’re the experts, although today they might defer to your greater understanding of how the tribes operate.”

  As Lorkan reached the door, Hamlyn spoke. “Anything interesting comes up, inform me directly. If anyone objects, tell them you’re acting under my orders and you report only to me.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lorkan grinned at Hamlyn and exited, waiting till the door closed before saluting.

  The Communications division buzzed with activity; orders, information, questions, created a hum which rose and fell in a rhythm of its own.

  “Answer the comunit, Kara.” Lorkan had called every five minutes for the last hour. “Damn it, Kara, answer!” Where was she? The shelter had one room, and she knew better than to go outside without her comunit. What was she playing at? She’d always shown the world such a mild sweet manner, just like her mother, successfully hiding the willful streak she'd gotten from him

  “Dr. Marshall, sir?”

  “Yes?” Lorkan snapped, and the cadet stepped back as Lorkan glowered at him in frustration. He sighed. None of this was the cadet’s fault. “I’m sorry. What is it, ensign?”

  “We've sighted the Maruts. They’re still a ways out, but Commander Hamlyn sent me to fetch you, sir. The trade delegates are ready.”

  Lorkan stood with a sigh. At least Kara was out of danger. She’d have been clamoring to be out there too, but for now, she’d have to wait. “How long have we got?” he asked the young man as he followed him out of the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: End Game

  Marut Proverb:

  Those who stop dreaming are lost.

  (Also found in Triumvirate archives in Section on ‘Ancient Cultures of Earth One.’)

  Kara needed to stay standing. She would think about nothing else. Not the knocking of her heart as it attempted to batter its way out of her chest, the nausea in her stomach, or the blue haze appearing around the edges of her vision. She had to stay upright. She locked her knees rigid.

  The Marut tribesmen slowed to a walking pace.

  She scanned the front line for Rishi, but with their long multi-colored headscarves hiding most of their faces, she couldn’t see
him. A man in the center held a hand up and a few steps later brought his animal to a halt. The rest of the tribesmen slowed to a stop.

  The man in question was too far away for her to distinguish his features, but she thought it might be Ikeya, which meant Rishi shouldn’t be far away. Apart from the fact she didn’t think her legs would manage it, she decided to wait as her dramatic appearance would be ruined if she keeled over flat on her face in front of them. Breathe, breathe, she told herself. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted under the light breeze, and she smelled the musky hot animal odor of the satyrs. The sun beat down, the heat making her lightheaded. Every shadow stood out sharp and clear. She could hear the men talking, the musical cadence of the Marut language traveling across the distance between them, but they were too far away for her to make out the actual words.

  Three riders rode slowly forward. The satyrs snickered and moved restlessly under the riders’ tight control. Two stopped halfway, while the third rider continued toward her. Despite the head scarf covering and hiding most of his face, the shape of his body and the way he held himself was wonderfully familiar. The singing in her blood and her heightened awareness confirmed this was Rishi, but she was holding herself rigid, afraid she’d collapse, and she didn’t dare move.

  He climbed down from the satyr, stroked its head and flanks, whispering and soothing the animal. Then in a few short strides his arms were tight around her squeezing the life out of her. “Gradhaig.” He nuzzled her hair. When he undid his head cloth, she saw the tear tracks in the dust on his cheeks. His eyes shone, dark gold as he drank her in.

  “Gradhaig,” she whispered back.

  “You found me,” he said, choking.

  “Yes,” her voice sounded creaky.

  “You have given up everything to be with me, yes?” The look in his eyes was so intense she had to look away.

  “Yes.” A line of tears trickled down her cheeks.

  He relaxed his grip on her arm and placed his hand on her belly. “You and the baby are well?” His eyes darkened as a mischievous glint appeared in their depths.

  “How in the universe do you know?”

  “You have much to learn about being a Marut,” he said with a soft smile. “But come, we have business with your people first.”

  “You won't declare war now, will you?”

  He stiffened. “Is that the reason you came? To save your people?” A flicker of suspicion crossed his face.

  She stared back at him. How could he think that? A flip answer rose to her tongue. She squished it. “No.” She kept her tone calm, and stroked his arm. “I’m not here as a sacrifice.” She set her palm against his chest over his heart, took his hand and positioned it over hers.

  They stood unmoving, time suspended, as she opened her heart to him.

  “Feel,” she said, looking up at him, “I came back for you.” She found the place inside her heart where her mother still lived, her face burnished with a look of bright love; the place where her father’s kind strength had given her a foundation on which to build her life; where her love for Rishi, a bright intense flame burned; where their future together lived and grew inside her.

  His eyes dropped. “Forgive me, gradhaig.”

  She stood on her toes, pulled him toward her, and kissed him, enjoying the sensation of his soft dry lips against hers.

  The tribesmen had waited silently throughout the exchange, but as the couple kissed, a riotous whooping erupted among the warriors and they waved their spears enthusiastically in the air.

  Rishi let her go, his reluctance clear in his expression. He climbed with swift ease onto the satyr’s back, reached down, and gripping her forearm swung her up behind him. “Let’s finish this,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at her.

  She put her arms around his waist and clasped him tight.

  The other two riders rode forward; she’d been right—one was Ikeya. The other was the Elder from the Summer Meet, the one who had questioned her presence, but he no longer seemed inimical. Ikeya nodded at her. She noticed his eyes crinkle and knew he was smiling beneath the cloth covering his face. He raised his hand, and the host moved forward.

  The shuttle port was chock-a-block with people waiting to board the three shuttles working on a non-stop rota to get non-essential and non-combatant personnel off the base and up to the safety of the mother ship. Despite the emergency evacuation order, and the underlying tension in the air, people queued without fuss. Colonists trained for this kind of emergency, although up till this point there’d been little need of it as the Maruts, while suspicious of the incomers and their technology, had never been openly hostile.

  The intense murmur of conversation filled Commander Hamlyn’s operational room at the administrative headquarters. Lorkan stood apart staring out at the mountains in the distance. Gray banks of cloud veiled the distant peaks while the sun glinted off the green of the lower slopes. He walked over to the row of screens on the far wall. The shuttle port showed one shuttle taking off, another loading and the third dock empty, waiting for the returning shuttle.

  The central screen was the one he studied closely as it showed the main host of Marut tribesmen nearing the settlement. Hamlyn had asked him to lead the team designated to meet with the Maruts, find out what had them this agitated, and work toward a solution.

  "What do you think, then?" Hamlyn asked.

  “I think the Maruts have no idea how lucky they are that the days when we wouldn’t hesitate to annihilate another race to gain access to planetary resources are over.”

  Hamlyn grunted. “There are still those who’d use any excuse to remove that piece of legislation.”

  “We’ve never seen the tribes flex this muscle before. We weren’t aware they had the ability to work together like this. Mmm… more surprises.” Lorkan said.

  “Your daughter showed us how little we do know about them. I wonder how many more revelations we’ve got coming.”

  Lorkan dropped his voice. “Look at the way they ride and control those satyrs.”

  The two men watched as the mass of riding tribesmen, moving as one unit, slowed their mounts from a canter to a trot. There was little dust marking their passage since they’d left the scrublands and entered the colonists’ territory. Sunlight winked on the tips of spears and the crossbows strung across their backs.

  Hamlyn grunted. “They’re not a threat in any real sense, but one of those spears through your chest will leave you the same dead as any of our most advanced weapons.”

  “And they don’t need those to eject us from their planet either. How much longer till they’re here?” Lorkan asked.

  “Call your team for a final briefing. I’d say half an hour before they’re knocking on our door.”

  Sweat beaded on Kara’s neck from the mid-morning sun as she sat behind Rishi in the center of the front line of riders. After picking her up yesterday, the Marut tribesmen had traveled till sunset, sleeping next to their satyrs. That night, under a star dusted velvet sky, Kara lay with Rishi curled around her, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her back, the weight of his arm around her waist, hardly believing he was real.

  The tribesmen rose with the dawn, ate dried flatbread for breakfast in the saddle, and rode the animals hard all morning. With her arms around his waist, she rode behind Rishi. Apart from being hot and tired, there wasn’t a bone in her body that didn’t ache—she'd forgotten how uncomfortable riding a satyr could be—but she wasn’t the least bit surprised that Rishi and the Maruts appeared as fresh as if they’d slept all night in a comfortable bed. If Yleni had told her that Marut warriors were born in the saddle, she’d have believed it.

  As they neared the settlement, they caught the rumble of a shuttle as it climbed high into the sky before disappearing from sight. The unfamiliar sound made the animals restless, and they snorted and stamped as they slowly walked toward the perimeter line. They stopped some distance away from the base’s main entrance and waited for the colonists’ inevit
able deputation to emerge. Kara peered around Rishi, studying the colony, wondering how the settlement compared in the Maruts' minds to their own easily dismantled homes.

  The high magsen fence gave the impression of a community on the defensive. From what they could see from this distance, the domed beige brown buildings set out in rows looked dull and boring after the bright individuality of the tribal tents. Compared to the freedom and danger the Maruts faced in their lives, the colonists’ existence appeared controlled and safe.

  In one way, your life was mapped out for you whether you were a Marut or a colonist, Kara thought; but each was regimented in different ways. Was it the newness, the mysteriousness of the Maruts that attracted her? If she traveled off-world there’d be still be new things to discover, but it was too late—she’d lost her heart to Rishi and the Maruts. The sight of Lorkan’s familiar figure brought a gasp when she spotted him leading a small group out of the base, and walking close behind, several armed officers had their hands on their holstered plasguns, ready to draw.

  Rishi turned. “You are safe, Kara. No one will take you now.”

  "That’s my father," came out in a strangled voice. She let go of Rishi's waist, slid off the back of the satyr, staggered as she landed, and was off running toward Lorkan before Rishi could stop her.

  “After her,” Ikeya hissed. “What trickery is this?”

  Rishi slipped to the ground and raced after Kara.

  Running as fast as she could despite the lack of sleep for the last few days, Kara willed her legs to move quicker. If the guards got nervous and this went wrong, she had to make sure her father was safe. She heard footsteps thudding behind her, coming closer, but she had to protect Lorkan. As she dashed closer she saw the bewilderment on her father’s face. Didn’t he recognize her? The pounding footsteps had almost caught up with her.