Raider

by Justine Davis

  “Explains some of your insane moves back then,” Brander said dryly.

  Kye said nothing. But she looked away, as if she did not want him to see her face.

  “But when it did not,” he went on, “I began to think that maybe, just maybe we really could fight back. Not beat them—I never expected that—but perhaps get to a point where they decided it wasn’t worth it.”

  “Our planium is worth a great deal to them.”

  “And,” Kye added, “they don’t consider it ours anyway.”

  He hated that she sounded so bitter, but he understood. He went on. “At some point, I realized the Raider wasn’t just a man. He was an idea. He stands for everything they have taken from us, and everything they still wish to take.”

  “What is left to take?” Kye asked, that bitter note still there.

  “The idea of Ziem itself. Our history, the truth of where we began, who we became, who we are. Why our world works, why we have avoided war for centuries. Why we have never resorted to war with each other. And now the Raider stands for those who have died by Coalition hands, and for those who yet will. He stands for those who fight, those who cannot, and even those who will not. He is a symbol, an idea. And as long as he exists, the soul of Ziem will survive.”

  For a moment, both Kalons were utterly silent. Then Brander said, his words teasing but his voice soft, “If I’d known you were going to give a speech that inspiring, I would have dragged you out to the gathering room so everyone could hear it.”

  Kye said nothing, but when she looked at him, the bitterness was gone from her face, and that alone was worth much to him. So much.

  After a moment, Brander coughed pointedly, then grinned at them and spoke again. “Never mind. I’ll just go and . . . do something.”

  “Do that,” Kye said, never even glancing at her cousin.

  He headed for the door, put his hand on the handle, then looked back over his shoulder at them. “I know everyone respects you too much to just walk in, but you might want to think about a lock on this thing anyway.”

  “Just walk out?” the Raider suggested, his eyes never leaving the woman before him.

  He heard Brander laugh as he did so, pulling the door securely shut behind him.

  “I am glad he doesn’t mind. Us, I mean,” she said.

  “He was for us long before I admitted to myself it was . . . inevitable.”

  Kye smiled at him. “I am more than glad you finally did.”

  And then she was in his arms, and all thought of what this battle was about, of what the Raider stood for, vanished from his mind. In these moments, and in these moments alone, he was simply a man who had found something he had never dared hope for.

  And who tried not to think, at least while she was in his arms, while they were wrapped around and in each other, about how easily it could be taken away.

  Much later, when he lay temporarily sated—for with Kye, it was ever only temporary—she stirred against his chest and asked quietly, “You feel you must do this?”

  “I cannot explain—”

  He stopped as she laid a gently finger over his lips. “I did not ask for an explanation. I only need to hear that you are certain you must.”

  “I am.”

  “Despite the risk.”

  “I must know who this man is, if we are to fight him.”

  “Then so be it.”

  He tightened his arms around her at her simple acceptance. “I’m sorry, Kye.”

  “I knew it would be like this. I knew before you warned me.” She shifted then, lifting up to look down at him steadily. It struck him anew that she had never asked him to remove the mask, the scars, in these times, touched him as if they did not matter. And he felt a sudden jolt as he realized she would be the same if the mask was real.

  “But this,” she said, stroking her hand over his body in a way that set his pulse pounding and had him surging to readiness all over again, “you and I, us . . . we are worth any price.”

  Her words echoed in his mind the following morning as he settled the silver helmet on his head, readying himself for the meeting ahead that could well result in them both paying the ultimate price. He knew how he would feel were she to die, and he supposed she would feel the same if he had guessed wrong and this was all an elaborate ruse to lure him out to take him down.

  But the other part of their bargain took precedence now. Nothing, not even this glorious thing between them, could interfere with what had to be done. For all the love they had found, both physical and of the heart, would mean nothing if Ziem was in the end crushed.

  And so, after checking the scars one last time, the Raider left his quarters and headed out to meet the man whose supreme mission was to end him.

  Chapter 38

  THE RAIDER SAW the flare arcing through the night mist. The single green swirl told him both that Paledan was approaching, and that so far all was according to the agreement. He’d been a little surprised that the Coalition commander had so easily agreed to his terms, that he come alone, wait at a given point partway up the mountain until a squad of Sentinels met him, and allow himself to be blindfolded with a heavy canvas bag over his head before they took him to the place set for the meeting. A place he’d chosen himself for the open lines of sight down toward Zelos, and multiple points of cover above, where Brander and a small contingent would be waiting, just in case.

  He heard the faint hum of an air rover. Looked up, and saw one of the quick, small crafts slide into the thicker mist in the even deeper shadows of the mountain, turn, and then hover. Had he not been looking right at it he would never have seen the faint green shape. Or caught the narrow length of the long gun now brought to bear on the meeting sight.

  Kye.

  He had no doubt it was her. Watching over him with that deadly accurate aim of hers. He grimaced ruefully at himself. He’d told her she could not come with him, for many reasons. The risk, of course; Paledan might well decide to not forego this chance to take out the Raider once and for all. But also he didn’t want her face in the Major’s mind, irrevocably set as one of the Sentinels.

  And finally because, despite his vows to the contrary, he knew if she was down here with him he would be distracted, determined to keep her safe, and he was going to need every bit of his wits to deal with this man.

  He’d ordered her not to come with him.

  But he’d neglected to order her not to come at all.

  He heard the call of a trill, a bird that had been extinct on Ziem for over fifty years. That, and the fact that it was fairly easy for even the most vocally nonadept of them to emulate, was why he had chosen it as the signal. And he had no more time to worry about Kye. He just had to have faith she could take care of herself, and wouldn’t endanger herself unnecessarily trying to take care of him.

  He had more faith in the former than the latter.

  He could hear them now, approaching on foot, slowly, as necessitated by the fact that the man they were bringing was blindfolded. He stayed in the dark shadows of the rock of the mountain, watching. Three figures walked together, the one in the middle being guided by the other two. The Harkin brothers, who had volunteered. It was already generally known that they were with him; they had no family to use as hostages, so it mattered little if Paledan saw their faces.

  They stopped several feet from where he stood. Teal yanked the heavy bag from over Paledan’s head. The Raider watched as the man first scrutinized his surroundings, in all directions including vertically, much as he himself had when choosing this spot. He also noted the man showed no sign of worry, but merely stood, quietly. And again, he reminded himself it would not do to underestimate this man.

  Nor was Paledan surprised when he stepped out of the shadow of the rocks. In fact, even in the faint light, the Raider could see a hint of acknowledgment, as if
this were where he would have hidden himself. He reminded himself that he must roughen his voice, as he’d always done with Kye, before. It had become habit whenever he put on the helmet, but he must make sure now, because he’d been in Paledan’s presence as Drake too often to assume he would not recognize his normal voice.

  “I compliment you on your choice of venue, Raider,” Paledan said, speaking first. “I would have chosen the same.”

  “So I have risen to your level?” the Raider asked, amused. “I’m flattered.”

  Paledan laughed. It sounded utterly genuine.

  “It is not something that happens often,” the man said.

  In another man, it would have sounded boastful. In this one, the Raider suspected it was rather an understatement.

  “I believe you,” he said.

  Paledan studied him for a moment after that. Then, glancing around once more, he said, “I presume you have this place covered?”

  “At a distance,” the Raider agreed. “Far enough that we are in essence, as you requested, alone.”

  Paledan nodded, accepting the assurance.

  “I am not sure I would be so quick to believe,” the Raider said, curious.

  Paledan smiled. “I am only so because I have heard the Raider is a man of his word.”

  “I have heard the same of you.”

  For a moment, the two men just studied each other, and the Raider thought what an odd thing war was. That two men on opposite sides in the battle for an entire planet could stand thus, and simply talk, even admiringly, to each other.

  He felt the breeze that tended to sweep down the mountain at this time of the evening. It caught at the bottom of his longcoat and swirled it. He knew the effect, as if he were wearing a cloak, like the warriors and rulers of old. It had been one of the biggest ironies of this whole venture, that he who had rarely worried overmuch about his appearance was now conscious of every aspect of the Raider’s, aware of the power of image and the force of reputation and image.

  “I have come here,” Paledan said abruptly, “to suggest a bargain.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I offer you a pardon.”

  He hadn’t expected this. But he didn’t let his surprise show, merely said casually, “Pardon?”

  “The hunt for you will be called off, the price on your head rescinded.”

  Interesting. . . . “And the Sentinels?”

  “Your fighters will be given amnesty.”

  “Meaning?”

  “They must confess, be listed, but no action will be taken against them.”

  “Speaking of pardons, you must pardon me if I say it is not likely any of them will trust the Coalition’s word on that.”

  “It is not the Coalition’s word I am giving. It is mine.”

  The Raider couldn’t help lifting a brow at that, although he knew it was mostly hidden by the helmet. He found the fact that the man saw those as two different things very telling. “And what must I give in return?”

  “Nothing.”

  He nearly laughed. “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  He shrugged beneath the dark armor. “You want the Raider to do nothing. Cease to exist.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you will allow me to simply . . . stop? Let it end there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Paledan shrugged in turn. “Let us say to honor a valiant fighter.”

  “Terms often used in the description of a dead fighter.”

  Paledan laughed. “It is nothing less than the truth. I respect a man who has done so much with so little.”

  “And a bloodless victory would not hurt your standing, either.”

  “It would not,” Paledan admitted with an unconcern that the Raider felt was real. “But that is not my interest.”

  “Nor, it would seem, is personal advancement.” For an instant, surprise flickered across the man’s face. “So, the rumor is true? You declined a promotion, because it would have taken you out of the field?”

  “Your information is surprisingly extensive.”

  The Raider merely smiled.

  “But it is true. I am ill-suited to be chained to a single position, even at Legion Command.”

  “Or . . . perhaps especially there?”

  Once more, Paledan laughed. And the Raider once more thought that, were the galaxy different and had they met under other circumstances, he could well have liked this man. It was disturbing, for he had always been able to think of the Coalition as a monolithic entity, evil throughout. Yet this man, alone among all he had encountered, seemed different. Which meant, the Raider reminded himself, that he was also not to be taken lightly. He would not be as predictable, or as hidebound by Coalition rules and regulations.

  “I will tell you, Raider, my predecessors may have underestimated you. I do not.”

  “One man and a handful of fighters against the might of the Coalition? What real damage could we possibly do?”

  “I would take you and your Sentinels over most of the garrison stationed here,” Paledan said.

  “Is that a compliment to mine, or insult to yours?”

  For a third time Paledan laughed. “Both.”

  “Do you not take some risk, saying such things?” the Raider asked. “I’ve heard the Coalition does not welcome such talk from within.”

  “That standing you mentioned,” Paledan answered. “I gauge it well.”

  “I regret that I cannot enhance it for you.”

  “So your answer is no?”

  “It is no. It was always no.”

  “Then why did you agree to this meeting?”

  “Curiosity.”

  “And learning your adversary?”

  “And that.”

  Paledan nodded, as if he’d expected no less. “And if I were to make the same offer to your fighters?”

  “Do so. I want none who are not wholehearted.”

  Paledan studied him for a moment. Then he shook his head slowly. “You are an exceptional man.”

  “You need to widen your circle, then.”

  The Raider half-expected him to laugh again, but he only nodded. “Perhaps you are right.” He glanced around, and up, toward where Kye was hovering. Clearly, he’d known all along someone was there. “I trust your Sentinels will not shoot me in the back as I leave?”

  “They will not shoot first.”

  Paledan smiled slightly. “If you change your mind . . .”

  “I will not.”

  “I am sorry to hear that.” Paledan lifted a hand to his brow and snapped it into a full salute. “You would be a credit to the Coalition, Raider.”

  “Their price is far too high.”

  “I cannot argue that,” Paledan said, startling him.

  And then he startled him further by holding out a hand, angled upward in the traditional Ziem greeting, and stepping forward. Within reach. The man, unlike his predecessor, had done his homework. His instinctive reaction was to return the gesture, allowing the brief grip of hands that signalled benign intent. But the Raider’s brain, honed by the years of fighting, warned him that allowing a Coalition officer, no matter his demeanor, get that close was unwise. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe the man would need a weapon to kill him.

  He had but a split second to make the decision.

  He went with his gut and his assessment of the man and returned the hand grasp. And saw in the other man’s eyes that he understood his thought process completely.

  And then it was over, Paledan accepting the blindfolding and allowing the men who had brought him to take him back, via a different but just as circuitous route, as planned.

  The Raider had barely gotten back into the shelter
of the trees before Brander was there. “Didn’t expect that,” he said.

  “Nor did I.” He shook his head as they made their way back up the mountain toward the ruin. “I cannot get his measure. He has such rank he must be Coalition to the bone, and yet . . .”

  “He seems . . .” He gave his second a sideways look when he halted. Brander shrugged. “He seems a straightforward man. Something I never thought to say about a Coalition officer.”

  “Exactly my problem.”

  They went on in silence, and they were almost at the ruin when he halted. “Tell the others of his offer. Any who wish to take it, must feel free to.”

  Brander blinked. “What? What if it’s a trick?”

  “They must judge that for themselves. It is not a decision I will make for them, either by withholding the offer, or saying I believe it is genuine.”

  “Do you?”

  “I think he is a man of his word. But he is also an officer of the Coalition, and I have yet to meet one that doesn’t put their goals above all else. I cannot reconcile the two, so I will say nothing.”

  “He seems—”

  “—cannot believe you really did that!”

  Kye’s voice, in a pitch he knew too well, cut off Brander’s words, and he finished hastily, “I’ll just go do that right now.”

  “Coward,” the Raider muttered.

  “When it comes to my cousin? Absolutely.”

  That, he understood. And turned to face Kye, who had clearly had time to return her rover to its hiding place and make her way back—at a run, judging from her tossed hair and fierce expression.

  “You let him get far too close! Eos, you let him grasp your weapon hand! There are so many ways that could have gone wrong,” she exclaimed.

  “It did not.”

  “But it could have. I can’t believe you did that!”