Hero

by Cheryl Brooks

  "Maybe they don't," he said. "Veluka is a crook from way back. Being scared of Grekkor might not be his only reason for not wanting to come with us."

  "You think he's wanted for something here on Nerik?"

  "Wouldn't surprise me a bit if he was," Trag said grimly. "Whoever's jamming us might only be after him."

  "True, but it's also possible that Grekkor knows a whole lot more about all of us than we think he does. Leroy's never kept it a secret that you were his pilot, and Jack's been all over the place looking for Zetithians--and then there's Ty and all of his fans. It wouldn't be difficult for Grekkor to link all of us together--maybe even connecting Jack with Veluka."

  "Yes, but I still don't see how anyone could have known Veluka blew up that ship," Trag argued. "There's just no way--"

  "But what if Grekkor did figure it out? He could have invented a story that's got the Nerik authorities out to get Veluka. He accused me of murdering that Norludian. What's to stop him from telling tales about someone else?"

  "That's possible, but from the way Tisana talks, Veluka's probably already guilty of even worse things than anything Grekkor might try to pin on him."

  "Maybe, but you see what I mean, don't you?"

  Trag nodded his understanding. "This could be a trap."

  "And we have no way of telling Jack about it."

  "Unless..." Trag paused a moment to think. "If we are being jammed, then we just have to find someone who isn't."

  "Meaning?"

  "They couldn't be jamming the whole damn planet," he said decisively. "And if they're jamming us specifically then that means they know we're here--or are at least expecting us."

  "Which means we'd better get moving."

  "No shit. Looks like the one ship we thought would keep us from getting caught is about to do just that."

  ***

  The two of them worked quickly, but it was still a good hour or so before they got under way. Unfortunately, during that hour, the bright, sparkling sunny day had turned into a heavy snowstorm.

  "Too bad Jack didn't think to give us a speeder," Trag grumbled. "Would've come in real handy right about now." He braced himself as he stepped outside and the first blast hit him in the face. He staggered against the wind, nearly being blown off the gangplank. "Holy shit! And to think I ever wanted to leave Darconia!"

  "Come on, Slave Boy," Micayla said, shouldering her pack. "If you keep moving, your nuts won't freeze."

  "Maybe, but that doesn't mean the rest of me won't."

  "You've got enough gear on for a polar expedition," Micayla pointed out. "And it's not all that cold--only a little below freezing."

  "You just had to say that word, didn't you?" Trag said with a shiver. "It's that freezing thing that has me bugged."

  "Wuss, wuss, wuss," Micayla chided him. "Don't worry. I'll warm you up the first chance I get."

  "Promise?"

  "Promise. Now let's get going. Which way to the city?"

  "I have no idea whatsoever," Trag replied.

  Micayla stopped short, glaring at him. "Well, isn't that just ducky? We're about to blunder forth into a snowstorm and you don't know which way we're supposed to go?"

  "I'm kidding," he said. "When I landed, it was that way." He pointed out the direction which, Micayla noted, was into the wind.

  Shaking her head, she said, "This is not going according to plan."

  "Plan?" he echoed. "We had a plan?"

  "Yes, we had a plan," she replied. "We were supposed to find out where Grekkor is and then call Jack. It doesn't look like we're going to have much luck doing either of those things." Visibility was extremely poor due to the snow, but she stared off in that direction anyway. "I think I see something up ahead. Maybe it's the city."

  Trag peered into the wall of swirling flakes. "How the devil can you tell?"

  "I can't," she replied. "But it's in the direction you pointed, so that's where we're going."

  "Got your comstone on?" Trag asked.

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Oh, no reason," he replied, "other than the fact that I won't be able to see you if you're more than half a meter away from me. Good thing they still work."

  "That's the advantage of having a communicator that no one understands. If they knew how they worked, they could jam them too." She trudged forward, wading through a deep snowdrift. "If Jack got that last message we sent about what city we were going to, they should be here soon. I wondered why she never answered us."

  "Now we know. I just hope it wasn't intercepted."

  "C'mon, Trag! Give me a little credit. I encoded that sucker like you wouldn't believe. If anyone did intercept it, it will sound like an ad for Weyolin's Wonder Fertilizer."

  "Which is?"

  "Sheep shit, basically," she replied. "Nothing that could be traced back to us anyway."

  "I dunno," Trag said dubiously. "Sounds like something Jack would sell."

  "Yes, but you know Jack pretty well. Grekkor doesn't--we hope."

  They trudged on in silence for a time. What had begun as a relatively deep snow was getting even worse. Micayla was used to slogging through snowdrifts, but she was a little worried about Trag. Even though she'd teased him a bit, she knew just how poorly he tolerated the cold. They'd just reached a stand of tall conifers when Trag spoke up. "Is it just me, or is it snowing harder?"

  "It's not just you," Micayla replied, brushing the accumulated snow from her goggles. "It's getting colder too."

  "And darker. It was morning when we got here. How could it be getting dark so soon?"

  "Beats me. Got that book on you?"

  "The one about Nerik? Yeah, I've got it here somewhere," he said, slapping his pockets. "Here it is. Good luck reading it, though."

  "Maybe it's got an audio feature," Micayla suggested. "Most of them do."

  "It looks pretty old," Trag said, pushing aside a snow-covered branch so Micayla could get through. It swung back with a crack as soon as he let go of it. "I mean, it's even printed on paper. Might not have that feature."

  Micayla stopped and looked about her. No doubt about it, the sun was just about gone. "Well, we know we're not in one of the polar regions where they only have a few hours of sunlight in winter, but it really is getting dark. Maybe it was later in the day than we thought."

  "Crazy planet," Trag grumbled. "Cold as hell, snow up to your ass, dark in three hours. No place I'd ever want to live, that's for sure."

  Micayla shook her head, still not quite able to figure him out. "Where do you want to live, Trag?"

  "Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want to know?"

  "I really want to know."

  "Well, to hear Jack tell it, I think I'd like to live on Earth, or barring that, Terra Minor. But that's probably just me wishing for something else I can't have."

  "Maybe when this is all over..."

  "Doesn't matter," he said abruptly. "Might not live through this anyway."

  Micayla's response was automatic, but the vehemence of it surprised her. "You'd better!"

  "Aw, Mick," he said with a grin. "Would you miss me if I was dead?"

  "I'm sure I'd die of a broken heart." She had enough of a grip on herself to try for a casual reply, but though the words were spoken lightly, the shocking truth of them hit her like a pulse blast. All of a sudden, living without him didn't seem possible.

  "Then I'll try to stay alive." Trag stopped and turned toward her. Even through the thick snowfall and growing darkness, she could still see the glow of his eyes. "Promise me you'll do the same, Mick."

  "I will."

  "Then come on. I think I see something through the trees up ahead. Might be someone there who could help us."

  Micayla blinked a few times as though trying to reset her brain into a more practical, working mode. All that talk about dying had her normally well-ordered mind going off on all sorts of tangents. Clearing her throat with an effort, she said briskly, "I've been trying to figure out why anyone would help us. After all, we're
offworlders and no one would have any reason to trust us--or stick their necks out for us."

  "Guess we'll have to rely on charm then," Trag said cheerfully.

  "Good thing you've got plenty of that," Micayla said. "I haven't got a drop."

  "You'd be surprised, Mick. Just don't hiss at anybody."

  "I'll try not to."

  The building Trag had seen turned out to be an old, abandoned shed of some kind--abandoned by the Neriks, that is. Strange birds flitted toward the ceiling as Trag forced the door open and then switched on a flashlight. Inside, it was dome-shaped and spacious, but its support beams tilted at precarious angles and unidentifiable bits of machinery lay in a rusty stack in the center. Various plants had made a futile attempt to grow up from the dirt floor, and something rustled in the dry leaves--a sound that brought rattlesnakes and rats to Micayla's mind. Remembering Curly's report, she could only hope that the dangerous animals were either hibernating or had gone south for the winter.

  "Think we ought to stay here for the night?" Trag suggested, shining the beam of light over the interior. "It's at least dry in here and we're out of the wind."

  "I don't know," Micayla said doubtfully. Pulling off her goggles, she added, "If anyone's hunting us, this might be the first place they look."

  "True, but if we keep wandering around in the dark we might wind up so lost that no one will ever find us--not even Jack or Leroy."

  "Or we could be in someone's backyard," Micayla pointed out. "I think we should keep going." A large bird soared down from the overhead beams and landed on the ground in front of her. "That's funny," she said. "It looks sort of like Veluka."

  Covered with black scales and possessing huge white eyes, it did, indeed, look like the Nerik. "Except Veluka can't fly," Trag said. "Wonder if they hum when they get upset."

  The bird pecked at the ground and fluttered its wings. "Doesn't matter," Micayla said. Reaching into her pack, she tossed out a few sporaks which the bird promptly ate. "It's not going to help us any to know that."

  "Nothing can help you now," a voice said as two Neriks armed with pulse rifles seemed to materialize from the surrounding walls.

  Chapter 23

  For a long moment no one spoke. "Well, that took longer than I thought it would," Trag said, breaking the silence. "What kept you?"

  "Very amusing," one of their captors said, but he wasn't laughing and he made a point of not lowering his weapon.

  "Mind telling me how you did that?" Trag went on.

  If Trag was trying to lull them into a false sense of security, or make friends with them, it wasn't working. The Nerik merely blinked at him.

  "Didn't think so," said Trag.

  "Would you at least tell us how you knew we were here?" Micayla asked. "We went to a lot of trouble to avoid being seen."

  Ignoring this as well, the Nerik said sharply, "You spoke of Veluka. Where is he?"

  "He opted not to come with us on this trip," Trag said dryly. "And I'm beginning to understand why."

  Micayla studied the two Neriks. At first they appeared to be identical both to Veluka and to each other, but as she looked more carefully, she began to discern the differences. One was taller than the other, and his shorter companion had scales and eyes of a slightly different shape--more hexagonal than oval. Another thing she noticed was that, despite the cold, neither of them wore clothing of any kind. Apparently their scales were all they needed to preserve their body warmth. Veluka must have worn his tunic simply as a courtesy to others.

  "Why would you think Veluka was here?" Micayla inquired. "I mean, aside from the fact that I mentioned his name."

  "We know the ship," the tall Nerik said. "We have been looking for him."

  "Yes, but how did you even know to look for it?" Micayla asked. "It's been cloaked the whole time."

  "It was stolen," the Nerik replied. "There is an anti-theft device embedded in it. Not removable or alterable in any way. It sends out a constant signal which we began to receive when the ship landed."

  "So only you guys can pick up on it?" Micayla persisted. "Not anyone else?"

  "Only us," he replied.

  "They don't know anything about it, do they, Slurlek?" the smaller Nerik said.

  "Should have known Veluka couldn't have gotten a ship like that through honest means," Trag muttered. Drawing himself up to his full height--which was taller than either of the Neriks--he said firmly, "We aren't the ones who stole it. It was on loan to us from Veluka. We just needed to get to the city unseen by a certain someone."

  "Still, we must impound the ship," the one called Slurlek said.

  "Help yourself," Trag said with a shrug. "We don't need it anymore, but if you're looking for Veluka, he's not here."

  "He could be hiding," said Slurlek's sidekick, glancing around the shed.

  There was no place for anything bigger than a rabbit to hide--and the best Micayla could tell these two had appeared out of thin air. Suddenly, the connection became clear to her. "Cloaked, you mean, don't you?" she exclaimed. "Your scales! That's why you aren't wearing clothes because we'd be able to see them! The technology in your ships is based on your own abilities."

  "Clever girl," Slurlek said with a scaly smirk. "But you are not the first to realize that."

  "So it's not one of those things where if I figure it out you have to kill me?"

  Trag was shaking his head in bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"

  "The Nerik ships," Micayla said excitedly. "The scales on them are what makes them capable of becoming invisible--just the way the people of Nerik can. That's why no one else has the technology." Turning back to Slurlek, she asked, "So, what do you do, put real scales on the ships?"

  "Not exactly," Slurlek replied. "They wouldn't withstand the temperatures during atmospheric reentry--but that's where the idea comes from."

  "So you really can disappear?" Micayla marveled. "I thought only Treslanties could do that."

  "We don't advertise it," Slurlek said shortly.

  While Micayla had been focusing on the ship's technology, Trag was more concerned with its owner. "That son of a drayl knew he'd get caught if he came back here!" he grumbled. "No wonder he wanted collateral for the ship! He's probably already sold the weapons Leroy gave him and scrammed off of Darconia."

  "So, he is on Darconia?" Slurlek said, showing a decided interest.

  "Well, he was," Trag said. "Didn't show up to see us off either, the little scumbag. All that crap about being afraid of Grekkor must have just been an act. He probably knew about that tracking device and decided this was a good way to unload the ship."

  "Grekkor?" the smaller man echoed. "Rutger Grekkor?"

  "You know who I'm talking about?" Trag asked eagerly.

  "This is an enemy of Veluka's?" Slurlek inquired. "What do you know of him, Orlat?"

  "You've heard of him, haven't you?" Orlat said. "The head of the Commerce Consortium in this sector? He's here on Nerik."

  "Well, that answers our next question," Trag said. "Any idea where he is?"

  "He is in the city for a reception," Orlat replied. "A philanthropic event of some kind. I don't remember all of the details."

  Slurlek rounded on his cohort, demanding, "And just how did you know that much?"

  Orlat shrugged. "What can I say, Slur? I listen to the news. You should too. You'd understand a whole lot more about interplanetary politics if you did."

  Slurlek's eyes dimmed slightly. "As if that sort of thing is important to us," he scoffed.

  "Sure it is, and I know lots of other things besides that. Like these two," Orlat said, indicating Trag and Micayla. "They're Zetithians. Bet you didn't know that."

  Slurlek seemed unimpressed. "So?"

  "They're an endangered species," Orlat said informatively. "Which means there aren't many of them left. One of them's a famous rock star named Tycharian Vladatonsk."

  "Oh, here we go again," Trag muttered.

  "And this is his brother!" Micayla exclaimed, rea
lizing that they now had a potential ally. "And I'm... his girlfriend."

  "The rock star's girlfriend?" Orlat said, his scales beginning to rise with apparent delight. "Really?"

  "No," Trag said, gritting his teeth. "She's my girlfriend. Ty's already got a mate."

  "Sorry," Orlat said meekly. "Didn't mean to make you mad."

  Micayla patted Trag on the shoulder. "He's a little touchy about having a famous brother," she explained.

  "Probably gets him laid, though," Orlat said with a shrug. "Wish I was related to someone famous. I never get laid."

  Trag looked like he was about to explode. "She is not my girlfriend just because of my brother!" he shouted. "I got her all on my own."

  Orlat rolled his eyes. "Sure you did."

  "Tell him, Mick," Trag growled.

  Seeing a Nerik rolling his eyes made Micayla feel slightly dizzy again, but she managed to form a reply. "I--I'd never even heard of Tychar until after I met Trag--well, I'd heard of him, but I'd never met him, or seen him."

  Trag stiffened as he turned to peer at Micayla. He had a look in his eyes she'd never seen before. "But you never slept with me until after you met Ty," he said accusingly. "Couldn't stand the sight of me before that. Are you sure he didn't have anything to do with it?"

  Micayla stared at him open-mouthed for a moment before irritation finally took over. "Oh, for the love of--" she said with an exasperated stomp of her foot. "Trag, will you just get over it? So what if you've got a hot rock star for a brother? Big deal!"

  "Uh, I don't think she's all that impressed," said Orlat. "She might be telling the truth."

  Trag tried to yank on his hair but couldn't because it was tucked into the hood of his parka. "Can we please talk about something else, like whether you guys are gonna let us go or help us out or kill us or what?"

  "We're only supposed to impound the ship," said Slurlek. "You two don't fall under our jurisdiction."

  "Well, thank the Great Mother for that!" Trag said. "But could you at least point us in the direction of Rechred? That's where Grekkor is, right?"