by Jean Kilczer
Outside, mercs were setting trees on fire with beam rifles. Jeeps bounced through the compound, targeting Orghes who ran behind stacks of ammunition. From outside speakers, Big Mack's voice boomed as he shouted orders to his men.
“Move over, Joe,” I said. He did and I slid into the driver's seat. Bat and Chancey threw themselves into the back seats with Huff.
“Hey, tags,” Bat said, “good to see y'all.”
A silent spear struck a running merc in his back. He cried out, threw up his arms, and dropped his rifle as he fell.
I tore rubber off squealing tires as I sped to the dead merc, screeched to a stop and scooped up the rifle. I threw it over my shoulder to Chancey and raced to the side of a wounded Orghe who sat, dazed, in the dirt. Huff leaped out, picked up the Orghe and dumped him into the back seat, then jumped in after him.
Four mercs in a halftrack raised dust as they rushed toward us. I skidded the jeep around and floored it. A hot beam seared through our trunk, but missed us.
“Hang on!” I shouted, and plowed a path through billowing smoke from ground fires and raised dust, to the back of an ammo tent. I took a chance and shut off the engine.
“Where'd they go?” a merc in the halftrack shouted.
“That way!” another answered and the halftract roared toward the main gate.
Chancey jumped out and burned a slit in the back of the tent. We followed, except for the Orghe, who had fallen onto the seat, and dragged out crates marked “Class B Rifles” and “Class B Batteries,” and threw them into the trunk.
“C'mon!” Joe shouted, “the Orghes are leaving. Time to go.”
We piled into the jeep and I took the driver's seat again. “Joe, did you get the message through to your buddies?”
He nodded. “We would've taken the starship, too, but we came back for you tags.”
“Appreciate that, Dad.”
Two merc jeeps converged on the main gate to cut off our escape route.
“Uh oh,” I said. “Company.”
I skidded the jeep around and headed for a side gate. We passed a dead Orghe and two dead mercs on our way. “Keep your heads down!” I lowered my head and closed my eyes as the jeep hit the gate with an explosive scream of metal that sent pieces spinning into the air. “Which way?” I shouted.
“Northeast,” Joe said.
I turned left and floored it.
“Dammit, Jules!” He pointed to the right. “That way!”
Huff stuck his snout between us. “The gentle Gods have taken this Orghe to the The Pit.”
“That's too bad, Huff. We'll take him to his people.”
“May the Ten Gods of Land and Sea forgive the slaughter of this night.”
I glanced at Joe. “Amen.”
* * *
Two days after the raid on the mercs' base, and Joe's message to his WCIA buddies, I watched a star ship cruise into view above the thick conifer forest that sloped down to crashing waves and a quiet cove of the sea.
Alerted by flashes of beam weapons from Orghe guards posted in trees among the new community, the WCIA ship banked toward a clearing. The whine of engines lowered and died as it landed.
Chancey was instructing young Orghe boys in the finer points of using beam weapons and driving the stolen jeep. Bat taught a group of older females about first aid. Huff was off with the fishermen. Joe had put up a virtual “Do Not Disturb” sign in the silent set of his jaw, his cold stares, and retreated to a sandstone cave in the cliff that bordered the new village.
I trotted toward the clearing with people who left their work of scraping animal skins and building racks to stretch them on. Young boys left unfinished stone ovens and scraped-out tree trunks for new dugouts. Girls, chortling in a circle as they wove straw mats, and scratched out large nut shells for bowls, looked up at the lowering ship. Mothers scooped up babies and we all ran to the clearing, some on two feet, some on four, hooting and screeching as they ran.
I stopped at the edge of the clearing and waited for Joe and Oldore to stride by and go to the main hatch, which snapped open. It was protocol.
Bat and Chancey came up to me.
“It's like Christmas morning,” I said.
“Build a village,” Chancey said, “and they will come.”
Bat scratched under his cap. “I hope they brought the medical supplies I asked for. You could use some new skin on that burn, Jules.”
I nodded and watched three men climb down from the main hatch. The bay door swung open and a woman rode out on a motorcycle.
“The vanguard?” Chancey asked.
I bit my lip. “I sure hope so.”
“Maybe the party's in the bay,” Bat offered.
Joe and the three WCIA officers went into the bay. Minutes later they drove out in three jeeps towing trailers with crates, and a hovair. The bay door cranked closed.
“Or not!” I said.
The three officers left the jeeps, shook hands with Joe, climbed through the ship's hatch and closed it. The engines purred to life.
I strode back to the village, feeling angry and betrayed. The people spread out, murmuring and hooting as they returned to their work.
Joe drove up in a jeep and stopped. “Get in.”
“I don't want to hear it, Joe! They threw us to the wolves!”
“Get in.”
I did.
He drove to the village. “It was an unscheduled stop. The equipment and supplies are destined for planet Fartherland.”
“What the hell's happening on Fartherland?” I had helped to dethrone the crazed Vermakt leader, General Rowdinth, when he threatened Earth with a solar-destroying weapon. “Rowdinth's dead!”
“Some of his followers have taken up his cause. Civil war. These three WCIA officers are going in as Worlds Alliance negotiators.” He glanced at me. “They could make all the difference, son.”
“And these people?” I swung an arm as we entered the village. They were already back at work, building a new settlement. A new life.
“The Worlds Alliance is stretched to their limits, Jules. They have to take care of their own people first, and New Terra is out of Alpha's jurisdiction.” Joe stopped the jeep. I watched the star ship disappear into the brilliant sky.
“They'll pick us up when their mission is completed,” Joe said.
“How long?”
“About an Earth week.”
“No, goddammit, Joe. I'm not going back to Earth and abandon these people.”
He rubbed his chin and slid me a look. “You want to bet?”
“You'd have to find me first.”
“You saw what happened in the raid. We didn't make a dent!”
“Yeah, well, a dent here and a dent there, and pretty soon the whole fucking structure collapses.” I got out of the jeep and slammed the door.
“We can't win them all, son,” Joe said.
“But you can't help trying.”
Huff and the Orghe fishermen returned to the village with a string of large fish swinging from a pole carried by two of them. Laughing Orghes ran to welcome them and inspect the fish.
When Huff saw me, he went down to all fours, trotted up, then rose to his full height. “The Ten Gods have smiled on us this day, my cub.” He threw a forearm around my shoulders. I grabbed the jeep door to maintain my balance.
“The people want to build a statue of teeth to the Great Fisherman Huff,” he said.
“That's good, Huff. You deserve it.”
“Tonight,” he said, “with digestall for our bellies safe, we will feast on fish.” He looked around. “We saw the star ship. Where did it go?”
“Actually, Fartherland,” I said. “Joe can explain it to you. I want to talk to Oldore.”
“And I must show the fisher people how to sacrifice the liver to the gods.” He patted my head, snuffled against my cheek, and strolled back to the fishermen.
I nodded. “We'll be sacrificing more than fish liver!” I told Joe when Huff was gone.
Bat wal
ked over with a first-aid kit. “At least they delivered the medical supplies I requested,” he said. “Jules, I'd like to cover that burn on your chest with new skin to prevent infection.”
“Later, Bat. I want to talk to Oldore.”
“Boss,” he said to Joe, “what's going to happen to these people?”
“And the Orghes on other islands!” I strode away before he could answer.
The day was darkening as I walked toward Oldore's cave. The motorcycle from the ship pulled up in front of me, stopped, and blocked my path.
“Hey there, good-looking,” the woman rider said in a high, squeaky voice. Blonde hair fell to her shoulders beneath the full-face helmet. Her soft pink leathers were molded around full breasts. “Hop on. I'll take you wherever you want to go.” She arched her back, pushing her breasts tautly against the jacket. “Free ride, handsome.”
“No thanks.” I walked around the bike. “It's not far.”
She drove in front of me again and stopped. “Any kind of ride you want.” She nodded toward the hovair. “I've got a private berth.”
I walked around the bike. “Not interested.”
She drove in front of me again and stopped. “What's your problem, tag?” Her voice rose to an annoying squeal. “Don't you like women?”
“Only on my terms, lady. You've got the wrong guy, now–”
“Are you a queercake? I think so with that mop of hair.”
“Think whatever you want to.” I reached over and shut off the bike. “Just stay out of my way.”
She started the bike and paced me as I strode ahead. “I'll bet you haven't had a haircut, blondie,” her voice lowered to a melodious tone, “since we hogtied you on New Lithnia and gave you one.”
I stopped and stared at her. “How'd you know about that?”
She unstrapped her helmet and took it off. The blonde hair remained attached to it. She shook out long, curly raven hair.
“Oh my God!” I said. “Sophia!”
She swung off the bike and I tried to hug her. “Sophia!”
She pulled back and slapped me. “That's for leaving me behind and not telling me where you were going.”
“Soph, I…I wanted you to be safe.” I put a hand to my stinging cheek. “This is a dangerous mission. My God, it's really you.”
“I swear, Jules,” her dark slanted eyes narrowed, “if you ever do that to me again, I'll come after you with a shotgun.”
I wrapped my arms around her and smiled. “A shotgun? Where would you find a shotgun?” Before she could answer, I kissed her. “God, I've missed you,” I whispered and ran fingers across her bladed cheekbones, her full mouth. I kissed her again. “I wish you hadn't come, but damn, it's good to see you.”
She put her hands under my jacket and pulled me closer. A fire started within my loins.
“You don't deserve me.” She stared into my eyes. “But I love you, you bastard, and I can't help myself.” She held my head between her hands and kissed me gently. “You're so damn beautiful. I've prayed to have you hold me like this again.”
I kissed her neck and felt her tremble against me. “Not as beautiful as you.”
“At night,” she sighed, “I would hug my pillow and fantasize that it was you and we were making love. How could you leave me behind?” She raised her hand. “I should slap you again.”
I grabbed her wrist. “Soph, I wanted to be with you, but even more, I wanted you to be safe.” I clutched two handfuls of her hair and pressed her head against my chest. “God, I want you! That berth…” The fire flared up until the whole world narrowed to my need for her. I stroked her wide hips, the curve of her buttocks. I would have taken her right here on the damp ground with night our only blanket, but she pulled away. Her breath came fast in her throat.
“Not here,” she whispered. “You drive.” She pulled me toward the bike.
“How about in those bushes?”
She shook her head. “Bugs.”
It was not easy getting my leg over the motorcycle with my pants pressed tight around my crotch, but where there's a will…
* * *
We pulled off each other's clothes in the tight quarters of Sophia's private berth aboard the hovair. She lay back on the narrow bed and smiled. I lowered myself on top of her and the voices and laughter, the footsteps outside the narrow confines of our curtained berth as Orghes inspected the craft, faded to nothingness.
She touched the cigar burn on my chest. “What's this?”
I smiled. “An old war wound. It's healing. Don't touch it, OK?”
“You're full of old war wounds.”
“They all heal. And if they don't, Bat takes care of them.”
She ran her hand through my hair. “How many of your nine lives have you used up?”
“Who's counting?”
“I'm afraid to.” She lifted her knees against my hips and pulled me down. She cried out as I entered her.
Our lovemaking was wanton and as passionate as two cats fighting, driven by our need that had gone too long unfulfilled. She cried out as we both reached orgasm. Here, on this tight bed, we touched heaven for one explosive moment.
When it was over, we remained locked, panting, sweaty, and I realized that the voices and the footsteps had stopped and been replaced by giggles. I slid out of her and lay beside her on the bed. “I wish there was a back door.” I took her hand.
“Are you ready to leave?” She lifted to her elbows and looked down at me. “I'm not. To hell with the worlds, Jules, Earth and New Terra. Fuck them both! Let's just stay aboard ship and for once, let others handle the problem.”
I brushed wet strands of hair off her forehead. “I wish I could, Soph, but it's my problem too.”
“Babe, you've done more than your share. I'm afraid you already used up most of your nine lives.” She kissed my cheek. “Save one for me, my love.”
“Could you love me if I walked out on my team? They're only going to be here another week.”
“I will always love you, Jules, more than I love my own life. Don't you know that you're the soul within my body?”
I kissed the tip of her nose. “Do you remember what I said on New Lithnia before I went back to the slave mine?”
“No! You said a lot of things.”
I ran my fingers over her cheek, her lips. She was so beautiful. “Yes you do. 'I could not love thee, dear, so much…' ”
She lowered her forehead to touch mine and sighed. “ 'Loved I not honor more'.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Oldore?” I said at the entrance to his dark cave home. “May I come in?”
Oldore looked up from carving a figure out of a block of wood about a foot wide and high. Streaks of green and gold swirled through it. The statue of an Orghe was taking shape under his hand. Oldore's tan fur, white on his head and neck, lifted in the heat of a small fire set in a ring of stones. He wiped a hand across his eyes. “Enter, Jules.”
“Thank you.” I ran a hand over my eyes.
He chortled and nodded toward a woven mat across the fire.
I unzipped my jacket in the warmth of the den and sat down. “That's beautiful. Is it a doll for a child?”
He turned the half-carved figure in his long-fingered, furred hand. “He is the manifestation of my people's deity, the special god who watches over the Sunspire Village.” He lifted the statue. “This is Orin.” The figure's arm and upturned hand were stretched out, as though welcoming people into the fold.
“Sunspire.” I smiled. “Nice name.”
He stared at me with small round eyes. “Your…shirt?” he asked.
“Yes.” I fingered the torn material. “We call this a shirt.”
“It is torn, and you have been burned. I think the ravagers have treated you badly. One of our women would be glad to sew it.”
“OK.” I took off my jacket and the shirt. “There are extra buttons on the cuffs. See?” I showed them to him. “They can replace the ones that were ripped off.”
He stared at my bare chest and smiled, showing square teeth.
I smiled back and put a hand to my chest. “My very distant ancestors had fur. We lost it somewhere along the way.”
“But you replaced it with clothing.”
I nodded and put on my jacket. “Sometimes it's a real pain.”
He picked up a piece of solidified volcanic ash called tuff, and began to smooth out the figure's arm. “But you did not come here to discuss clothing, or the gods.”
I lowered my head and ran a finger through crumbled sandstone. “The help we requested for your people … it's …” I shook my head. “In about seven days the star ship will return from its mission on another planet and pick up my team.”
He kept working the wood. “And you?”
“I'm staying. I can help your fighters set up a defensive line. Chancey's teaching them how to use beam weapons. And we have an armed hovair.” I huddled closer to the fire. “We can evacuate your women and children, your non-combatants, to another island.”
“The islands are taken.” He studied the wood. “Our people would be seen as intruders and enemies.”
“Don't you trade with the other islanders, maybe intermarry?”
“All that. And more.” He studied the figure's hand and carefully scraped between the fingers. “The women who marry stay on the islands of their husbands. Others are not welcome.”
“But your women and children. What about them if the mercenaries overrun this village?”
“There is a creature that plows the seas in families. They are not fish. We call them our brothers of the sea.”
I tapped the ground, waiting.
He flicked me a look. “When sickness runs through their members and some grow too weak to swim, the family leaves their home in the sea and comes ashore to die.”
“I've heard of this, Oldore, on my own world. But– Are you saying that if you lose the island to the mercenaries, the survivors will commit suicide? The children… Is that what you're saying?”
He stood the statue in the sand. “I am saying that we live as a family and we will die, if we must, as a family.”