Obligations

by Cheryce Clayton

  “Kid needs help,” someone said from the hallway.

  The captain of the vessel nodded his head in grim agreement.

  “Anyone know where Bootleg Hill is?” Jeff asked in a subdued voice.

  “Yeah, old code Tim used. It’s over on the Southern Continent. Suicide, man.” A different human woman braced herself against the hatchway and offered her hand to the pilot.

  “If you decouple and drift free they might not notice. We’ll wait as long as we can.” The captain shook hands with first Jeff, and then the woman who tacitly agreed to join him.

  #

  The small shuttle craft drifted for several hours, its occupants chilled thoroughly in the dead air of the cabin.

  “Going to have to turn the air on soon. Might as will make the run now. You sure of the exact spot?” Jeff asked again as he prepped several panels of switches.

  “Yeah, lot of ground to cover though.” The woman’s numb fingers fumbled with the buckles of her drop harness.

  “Great. Well, who wants to live forever?” and he hit the switches all at once.

  The engines roared to life and frozen air crystals blasted from the vents at the same moment.

  Jeff steered the vehicle’s nose toward the planet, and they were pressed against their seats.

  The various noises masked the woman’s intense “I do.”

  #

  “You need to rest,” Enrico said to Neavillii who was still carrying him. They were on the outskirts of the city and moving on foot.

  “I will continue, I must.” Neavillii barely had breath to run, and Enrico saw her waste a precious amount trying to reassure him.

  Tadesde aircars continued to make bombing runs on the city, and they were still far from the foothills that encircled the valley the city was built within.

  “We would be honored to carry your companion, my Lady.” The native, who first offered them escape, jogged easily beside Neavillii.

  They had gone farther into the building and left behind those who milled aimlessly in the audience chamber. An underground thoroughfare led them out of the building and nearly out of the city.

  “I am even further in your debt, thank you,” she gasped as she gulped air, and Enrico knew he was a burden. Two of the natives took him in a chair carry before all began running again.

  Amigo darted back and smiled at Enrico.

  “Angry people, let us go there.” Amigo pointed down a smaller street that branched off of the main road they were following. Without waiting for a reply, she ran down the alley and out of sight.

  Neavillii cursed silently, still struggling for breath, and turned down the alley.

  A vehicle could be heard on the street in front of them as the natives moved into the alley.

  “Trapped!” Amigo cried from her vantage place at the lead.

  “We will see,” Neavillii grunted as she fired her sidearm at the ground car that entered the alley.

  Its front burst into flames and two Sansheren jumped free of it moments before it exploded.

  “My Lady, this way.” The two natives who were not carrying Enrico held up the lid to an entrance into the sewer system.

  Neavillii was pinned down in a doorway by fire from the two Sansheren who were using their burning car as cover. Another ground car moved its nose halfway into the alley before its occupants climbed free and started shooting.

  The natives carrying Enrico dropped him down the rank hole and jumped in after him.

  “-my Lady!”

  Enrico’s voice blended with the impassioned plea of the Bystocc still above ground.

  Neavillii held the native’s gaze for barely a second before turning her attention back to the ones shooting at them.

  “We have to help her.” Enrico tried to free himself from the restraining hands of the sympathetic natives.

  “It is she who is helping us. I would rather her sacrifice were not in vain,” the last native said from the top of the ladder while pulling the lid closed.

  The remaining light from the hole was blocked as Amigo dove through and into the grieving Enrico’s arms.

  She was covered with blood, but he could see no injury.

  “We go now,” she whispered.

  Enrico felt something inside him die with the light, and he was left standing alone in the dark, empty.

  The natives moved silently in the dark, and Enrico was startled when one of them picked him up and they began to walk.

  “You can see in the dark?” he asked while still holding the clinging Amigo.

  “We are a nocturnal race, my patron. It would help greatly if your friend could be carried by another.” The native was already breathing heavily when it paused to allow another to reach for Amigo.

  “I can run,” Amigo said a bit too loud, and Enrico realized that, since the first contact in the audience room, everyone was speaking English.

  “Do you know where the rendezvous spot is?” he asked, again feeling like a burden.

  “Yes,” was the short reply.

  Enrico felt disoriented as the darkness grew behind his eyes and the silence was broken by the struggles for breath fought by the one carrying him. Seemingly hours later, he was jostled and passed to another. And the run continued.

  #

  “We are under radar and flying fast. Let’s hope the boy is waiting for us,” Jeff called out over the howl of the engines.

  “If you land in the ravine, I’ll scout for them.” The woman held tight to her harness as the craft swung violently to the left and began following surface terrain.

  “Roger that.” The pilot kept his eyes on the horizon less than a mile away as they slowed to the speed of sound.

  #

  “Ouch,” Amigo said as she brought her hands to her ears, too late to block the loud booming that echoed through the valley they were climbing out of. The sewer tunnel had taken them as far as a treatment plant several miles clear of the now-smoking city.

  They were forced to hike into the steep hills from there, and Enrico insisted on walking with the aid of his cane.

  The natives were exhausted and made no better time than him.

  “That will be our ride. How far now?” he turned to address the natives.

  “The other side of that ridge. I wish you luck, young master.” The native bowed low.

  “Are you coming?” he asked as the other natives walked back down the ridge they just climbed.

  “No,” the lead native still bowed.

  “Why?” Enrico stepped forward, raised the other’s head, and stared into eyes filled with pain.

  “This is our planet.”

  Enrico felt his hand fall as the native moved to follow its companions.

  “I am in your debt, and it will be my honor to see your planet free,” he found himself whispering in Sansheren.

  Amigo tugged on his free hand, pulling him up the last of the hill.

  The shuttle was parked beyond; a human adult was running toward them, all the while scanning the sky.

  “Buckle up, boys. This one’s going to be a fun one,” the pilot called out even as the ship lifted.

  The hatchway automatically secured itself, barely missing the co-pilot’s foot.

  Enrico struggled to strap Amigo into the adult sized chair while listening as the co-pilot cursed. The forward motion of the craft threw Enrico backwards and into the next tier of seats.

  “Straight up. Next stop, free fall,” Jeff shouted, and Enrico had the distinct impression that the pilot was having fun.

  “This is the right reverend red dog leader calling all you apostles. Prepare for a sermon on the mount. Repeat, prepare for a sermon on the mount,” Jeff closed the mike and eased the vehicle into an arced path that pointed it directly at the planet’s largest Moon.

  “I thought this thing couldn’t break orbit,” the co-pilot said.

  Enrico nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Sermon on the Mount is code for a high orbital pickup. Tadesde broke that one,” Enrico added to the p
ilot.

  “Then let’s just hope no one’s listening, cause we ain’t gonna get a second chance.” Jeff didn’t bother his passengers with information concerning reactor temperature and coolant levels. The pilot kept a tight grip on the controls and was unaware of the skeletal grin that played across his face.

  “Red dog leader, confirm Sermon on the Mount. Be warned of a three-point-eight second window. Pursuit is rising from the ground as we speak.” The captain’s voice was a tinny echo, and Enrico grabbed his release button as the mercenary ship filled their port window.

  “Confirmed. And on my mark. Mark!”

  The two vehicles matched speeds and connected in what was not a crash only by definition of damage.

  Enrico lunged forward and pulled Amigo free of the straps without bothering to unsnap them.

  The copilot activated the hatch.

  Jeff did not move from the pilot’s seat as he worked the controls.

  “Let’s go,” Enrico called from the airlock of the larger ship.

  “Negative. Right now I think a bit of a distraction is in order, sonny boy,” Jeff shouted, and Enrico’s protest was cut off when the pilot hit the airlock override.

  The hatch slammed shut in Enrico’s face, and a precious second passed as the airlock control panel confirmed the seal, then the couplers blew free with the shuttle. And Jeff aimed his shuttle straight at the rapidly approaching enemy fighter. “Geronimo” echoed through the mercenary ship’s intercom a moment after impact.

  Enrico and the copilot made no move to leave the airlock as they stared at each other in shock.

  “Yolunu,” Amigo said, sniffing the blood she wiped from the wall of the corridor.

  “Come on.” The co-pilot was the first to move, and led Enrico down the corridor to where Yolunu lay strapped to a table, her foot twisted sideways; the leg was bloated well above the knee.

  He could detect no rise or fall of her chest.

  “The tourniquet just ain’t holding,” someone said in response to Enrico’s questioning look.

  “She dies.” Amigo stood in the hatchway, refusing to enter the room.

  Enrico felt her fear echo through him.

  “We have to space her. Now.” He felt a strong hand on his arm, stilling him when he would have moved closer to his friend.

  “Listen here. I don’t care what species it is, I ain’t allowing no bigot to space an injured person. The captain won’t either.” A tall, black adult held him.

  “You don’t understand, we’ll all be killed. We have to get her into the airlock. Help me.” He looked from one person to the next, only to be met with the same hostile stare.

  “She’ll give birth soon. We’ll all be killed.” Enrico looked to the doorway to find that Amigo was nowhere to be seen.

  “You saying that’s pregnant? Man, I’ve seen one of their kids. Get out of the way, Jake.” The small adult pushed through and shared Enrico’s look of fear.

  “You sure?” the one called Jake released Enrico’s arm grudgingly before picking up Yolunu and moving toward the corridor. He was forced to turn sideways to clear the hatchway, and those in the room could see the swelling of Yolunu’s abdomen.

  “Hurry!” Enrico followed the other into the corridor.

  Jake shoved Yolunu’s body into the airlock and was still pulling the door closed when a burst of green blood splattered out. He continued to pull the door shut and secured it. The corridor was silent as he turned his bloody face to Enrico.

  Nothing was said between the two of them as others passed and stared through the airlock window.

  “I need to speak with the captain,” Enrico said to no one as he turned away and limped toward the front of the ship.

  “Hey. How long can they survive when they run out of food?” Jake still held his position.

  “I don’t know,” he said over his shoulder.

  Amigo crept out of the small hole in the deck plating and took Enrico’s hand.

  Chapter Twenty - Wergol - 2012

  “Damn it! Where is he?” Morgan turned to Banessa, only to realize she spoke in English.

  “Your family doctor will arrive soon,” Banessa said from where she leaned against the wall. The Sansheren, still bleeding lightly from her side wound, anticipated her leader’s source of impatience.

  “In there!” Denise’s high-pitched voice announced Isaacs’s arrival.

  “What took you so long?” Morgan demanded, even as she moved of out of his way.

  “Get her out of here,” Isaac said in Sansheren, without ever acknowledging Morgan.

  Banessa and Greg moved to lead the unresisting Morgan out of the room and down the stairs. Her last glimpse of the room showed Tim’s pale face, Isaac opening his bag, and Denise sitting on the far edge of the bed.

  “Why! On whose authority?” Morgan challenged from where the stairwell emptied into the bar commons. Morgan found herself staring across the room at the captured Tadesde spacers; anger and hatred swelled up to replace the worry and fear that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “In accordance with the neutrality pact signed by your love Neadesto, I must humbly request that I and my wives be returned to our ship,” the conscious prisoner said, and held her head proud, staring ahead, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

  Morgan struck her, hard across the face after she finished her request. “I no longer wear Neadesto’s banner! ” Morgan spat out with contempt. She tugged at her own House banner before turning her back on the prisoner and moving toward the injured woman who had tried to warn Tim. “How is she?”

  “An explosive charge detonated within her maternal nest. She will die without another child,” Tansea said as she placed her small hand on the arm of the crying wife.

  “But, she has not given life to even one. How can she die without children? Who will remember her face? Who will speak her name? Why couldn’t it have been me? At least I have given twins to a loving father. But, why?” Few in the room could meet the distraught wife’s gaze as she struggled to accept the news.

  “I would speak with her a moment,” Morgan said.

  Tansea, knowing some Sansheren custom, helped the crying woman walk a few feet to the bar. Everyone in the room was silent as they watched Morgan approach the dying spacer.

  “You have done me an honor, and I am in your debt. I would discharge this debt before your death, my Lady,” and with that, Morgan leaned over the still form and whispered a single word into her ear.

  “What’s happening?” Greg whispered to Tansea as all eyes remained on Morgan.

  “The debt at death is held over and granted each of the deceased’s children. This woman has no children, Morgan could’ve waited a few moments and then been free of the debt,” Tansea whispered back.

  Morgan heard their exchange without response; she realized that she was giving the dying woman a gift whose value was beyond belief to the Sansheren and beyond the comprehension for the humans present. Morgan gave her peerage in the form of the name of the Tenth rank of Sansadee.

  “My thanks, my love.” The dying spacer struggled to maintain consciousness long enough to open her eyes and acknowledge the gift. Her eyes never opened, but Morgan and those close by could hear her whispered words. The silence grew as her breathing quieted until it was apparent she was no longer struggling.

  “Let it be for ever recorded in the records of the Sansheren that this person gave not only her own life but the lives of all of her descendants to save a member of my family. Let it also be recorded that she died my equal.”

  As Morgan unfastened the banner that covered her left breast, the captured spacer gasped and then began to struggle against her bonds. Banessa struck her quiet.

  “I publicly acknowledge a debt of honor to her spouse, and if she will accept, I would ask her to enter my House, my family, and my home.” Morgan still had not raised her eyes as she draped the banner across the chest of the dead.

  “Oh, my Lady…” the crying wife moved forward and tried to kneel, but
Morgan held her shoulders and forced her to remain standing before enveloping her in a hug.

  “If you would take a berth upon my ship the Yonxine, I would be grateful,” Morgan’s voice was soft and tender, her eyes held wide open, as she spoke to her new wife.

  “How was I to know she was a member of your family, my Lady? My Lady? There are so many of your lovely species on this planet, which ones are family to you if they do not look like you? How were we to know?” The captured spacer was staring around the room, trying to make eye contact with any of Morgan’s people.

  “Do you think I would defend just anyone? Do you think I am so easy in my allegiances? I named him family to a member of my own personal family; I would think that would give you warning. If you were smart enough to take it,” Morgan said over her shoulder, her voice tense and angry.

  “My Lady is correct; a fool as ignorant as I is so far beneath her as to be without value. I would offer my life to feed your children. I am yours to destroy,” the woman whispered with her head bowed, and Morgan thought she was bereft of hope or honor.

  “Tansea. Attend my new possessions.” Morgan waved Tansea to the injured attackers who were lying guarded on the bar floor.

  “Surely you do not hold my wives responsible for my ignorance? My Lady, you’re a just and noble person, please spare their lives.” Even as hope left her, Morgan could still see her love for her spouses.

  “Do not judge me by your own corrupt standards; I have no need for the lives of your spouses. You are without value; I would not feed my children your bones. The stench of your dishonor would contaminate them,” Morgan said before she again turned her back, a move Banessa interpreted as an end to the audience, and she again struck the prisoner silent.

  “Tansea?” Morgan walked to stand beside the small medic who was just finishing stitching a long cut on one of the captive’s foreheads.

  “Oh, they will live. This one will be forced to live on the charity of her family, though. The other one will be fine in a week or two. Neither of them will be able to ship off planet for at least a month.” Tansea finished her work with more concern than Morgan felt any survivor of Bystocc should show for Tadesde’s retainers.