She leaned forward and offered me the glass with the orange liquid. “Do try this; it’s Planuu nectar and it is delicious.”
I took the glass while she dialed for a second one and said, “It sounds we are going to be traveling for quite a while then.”
She sipped from her drink and looked at me from over the rim of the glass and nodded. “It will make sure no one can retrace our route. Most likely not necessary but old habits die hard, and in this business, one can never be too careful. Sojonites can operate and go anywhere, as they are considered expensive and neutral prostitutes and nothing else. Losing this reputation would be damaging and jeopardize the lives of Sisters everywhere.”
What she called Planuu nectar was fruity, ice-cold and sweet, perhaps a tad too sweet for my taste, but pleasantly flavored. “I understand the necessity for intelligence and clandestine operations, of course, but I prefer wearing a Fleet Uniform.”
Her lips curled into an impish smile. “Do you really? It seems to me you are very comfortable in what one might consider revealing and provocative.”
I had completely forgotten my true male persona, but as she mentioned it, I felt embarrassed. “I wonder why I am not able to make up my mind. I enjoy this, and it feels right, and yet I can’t make the final decision to be either way.”
“I suggest you enjoy both then. Be proud that you can so easily cross gender borders that are so rigid to others. It might be your greatest gift.”
Chapter 5: Alvor’s Cove
The rest of the flight to Alvor’s Cove was uneventful, and we descended onto a brownish planet that somehow did not just look dry but dusty, even from space. The Saresii woman, who was also the leader of the secretive Sojonit Order, dressed herself in a sand-colored voluminous cloak and handed me a similar colored garment. Then she said, “If you touch the side of your mask, about here next to the eyebrows and tap the spot twice, a shield of thin transparent Duranium seals your mask’s openings. The dust outside can be real bad and getting it inside your mask is bad.”
I did what she recommended, and an almost inaudible whirring sound hummed for a few seconds. She nodded, satisfied, and moments later went down the ramp and onto the surface of this world. The ramp behind us closed and the luxury yacht, which belonged to a crime lord on Sin 4, flooded its Arti-Grav cushions with positive gravitons and climbed back into the hazy blue sky without a single cloud but with smears of light brown colors.
A stiff wind caught the cloaks we wore as I looked around. We stood on a large plateau of bulldozed and leveled rock and compacted dirt. I estimated it to be about five klicks in diameter, and we were more or less in its center. The Sojonit mask zoomed in on things as soon as I squeezed my eyes and it mirrored environmental data directly onto my retina. This is why I knew it was exactly 48.9 degrees on the C scale and that the wind came from the west.
Beyond the landing field in the south and east was a cliff-like rock wall that steadily rose and blended in high mountain peaks in the distance. That cliff wall tapered off to the north, and when I looked into the direction from where the wind blew, flat, featureless land stretched as far as I could see. It almost reminded me of the oceans of Nilfeheim during Longnight—vast, flat, and featureless. However, here a bright white sun glared down and baked everything with merciless heat and shadeless light.
Like her, I carried a bag with a change of clothing and a few personal hygiene items. She put her bag on the ground and explained with a sweeping motion, “This once was a river delta; water would gush from that narrow canyon you can see to the east, spread out over this area and then join the waters of the ocean that once existed where you now see nothing but a featureless sand and dust desert. Of course, that was many million years ago. Whatever water is left on Alvor’s Cove is now deep underground.” She pointed to the sun and continued, “The local star flared for unknown reasons about a million years ago and became brighter and hotter, slowly cooking and vaporizing the oceans of this world.”
I wondered what she was waiting for, but I didn’t ask. I assumed she didn’t come all this way just to stand around a dusty landing field.
As if she guessed my thoughts, she said, “Flyers are very rare on Alvor’s Cove, and our transportation is on its way, but it will be a while till it is finally here.”
She sat down on her bag and shaded her brow with her hand. Not that she really needed to, as I was certain her mask had UV filtering built in that transparent material that now covered the eye slits, but it was a basic human unconscious gesture, and I thought that Saresii not only appeared but also acted as humans did. She used her other arm to point east and said, “There it comes.”
Out of a glimmering, mirror-like mirage, the heat conjured up over the flat surface almost like a slow surfacing submarine, a large lizard became visible. It had six legs and had to be as big as four Fangsnappers. The lizard’s color was almost the same as the dusty brown surroundings, and it was fitted with some kind of harness on which a covered wagon on four big wheels was attached.
At the speed the lizard and the attached contraption approached, I estimated it to take at least another thirty to forty minutes before it was actually here.
I gestured toward the approaching ground transport and said, “Maybe we should meet it halfway. It’s less than a thousand meters away. I can take your bag.”
She laughed but did not make any moves to get up. “Only you would suggest walking a distance like that in five-inch heels. Be patient, my dear, be patient. Not everything needs to be rushed or done right away.”
“Sorry if I appear impatient, but we are even deeper in Free Space now, and I am sort of anxious to return to Union space and meet my friends again. I want to finally graduate and get started on my fleet career.”
“I can understand that, but would that not mean you would have to be Eric again? I had the impression you enjoy this.”
“I do, but realize that I am also Eric and I have friends who do not know anything about this, and I am not sure if I want them to.”
“If they are your friends, would it matter to them?”
“I don’t know, and they are too important to me to find out it would.”
Together, we watched the lizard-drawn cart come closer.
From above, a sudden high-pitched whistle of misaligned Arti-Gravs made me look up and watch a Velorian Armed Merchant descent. The 180-meter freighter seemed loaded to the brim with whatever merchandise it was bringing and its Arti-Grav projectors struggled to keep it at decent descending speed.
Velorian ship architecture wasn’t the most practical in the first place, and from the sound of it, one or two Arti-Grav projectors had to compensate for another that was either completely out or as it could happen, misaligned and thus worked against the others. Arti-Grav projector alignment was an important job during any maintenance, something that had been overlooked quite obviously on the descending ship. Its shape strongly reminded me of those spiral-shaped sea snail houses one could find on the pebble beaches of my home world. The thought alone of the cool fresh air of Nilfeheim made me feel the heat of this world even more.
The woman next to me said, “Whatever you see now, I urge you to keep your cool and ignore it.”
I wondered what she meant by saying that in such an urgent tone. “I will.”
The organic-shaped ship had settled down on nine landing pads extending from its keel, about six hundred meters from where we were. Thanks to the zoom-enhanced vision provided by the Sojonit mask, I could see that three of the hydraulic landing gear were leaking fluids, and a fourth was bent so it could not retract or extend at all. The characteristic swirly red and black color scheme of silicone-carbon lattice ceramic hull was a result of the Velorian production process. The Velorians, like several other Galactic Council species, used ceramics rather than metals for their spaceship hulls. Ceramics had several benefits over metals, but also quite a few drawbacks. Why the Union preferred metal hulls was that they could be repaired relatively uncomplicated in the fi
eld, while ceramic hulls, once they were cracked or damaged, could only be repaired in specially equipped shipyards. I was recalling these lessons from basic engineering classes as I saw the large crack in the side of the hull. It had been repaired by bolting metal braces over it and the gaps filled with some kind of resin or perhaps even Duro-Crete. It looked crude, and I wondered who would be brave enough to actually go into space with something like that.
She also looked into the direction of that battered, badly maintained ship and said with a dry voice, “That is one of seven ships belonging to the Mulwhur Trading Company. They have their headquarter right here on Alvor’s Cove.”
“It doesn’t appear to be a pirate ship. I don’t see much in terms of armament, and I doubt it would be fast enough to be an effective raider.”
“No, it is not a pirate. It is something much, much worse.”
A hatch opened, and two Togar and four Oghar in crude but tough-looking leather and metal gear appeared. They were armed with long whips and long handled fork-like sticks.
Through the excellent optics, I could see them yell and holler. Moments later, naked human men, women, and children appeared, bound to each other by ropes attached to metal collars. They looked dirty, and some were caked with mud.
One of the men had a merchant marine tattoo on his arm. Those were Union citizens.
I got up, and turned to her, “What are they doing to them?”
“They are headed to the slave pens in the Canyon of Tears, and there they wait for the bi-monthly slave market. Togar and other slave dealers will then come and purchase them for the meat and slaughter kitchens of Togr, to the Death Fight arenas of Sin 4, to mines and fields of the Brnah, to the furnaces of the Kartanian smelter moons and a thousand other hellish places of no return.”
I almost screamed at her, “Maybe you don’t care about humans, but I see two Klack now and a Saresii woman. I am sure your optics are as good as mine! Don’t you see her?”
She nodded. “I do see her, and she will most likely end up sold to the Kermac, who will dissect her to find out why Saresii are better psionics than them. The Kermac hate us Saresii far more than they dislike Terrans, and her fate will be gruesome torture and then a painful death.”
“We’ve got to do something! We must!”
“What would you suggest we do?”
“Call the fleet somehow. You said there is a Sojo Temple here; don’t they have GalNet terminals?”
“Alvor’s Cove is beyond the reaches of the GalNet network. We use extended reach terminals on Sin 4, but even if we could reach fleet command, what can they do? This is Free Space, and they won’t risk intergalactic war to free those slaves. Alvor’s Cove once was Togar space; they only abandoned it because it was useless to them. The fleet coming here would mean the Union would have to fight the Nul, the Galactic Council, the Shiss and all of Free Space, including the Togar, at the same time. It would mean decades of war and countless lives!”
I stared toward the slave trader ship. “I am a Union officer and I have sworn to protect the Union against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Those slaves are Union citizens, and the Assembly should discuss nothing else day and night to make sure they are rescued and safe! If it means war, then so be it! Every last space man and marine should fight and die to the last breath to ensure their freedom.”
She clapped her hands together. “You speak like a Terran and sound like Stahl. As it may be, my Terran friend, we can do nothing at the moment and must maintain our cover.” She got up as well and took her bag. “Our ride is here.”
A being, covered in a similar cloak, climbed from behind a crude-fitted windshield. The billowing cloak made it impossible to determine the exact species; it had the correct number of limbs to be human but was only about 150 centimeters tall. It wore the hood of the cloak buttoned up on the front, with just enough opening for a pair of dust goggles. “I came as fast as my Xtry can walk after I received your summon. Do you need help with your luggage? It will be two one-weights to Bennard’s Cut or three if you want the air conditioning.”
My companion pressed three coins into the gloved three-fingered hand of the being, and we climbed over a creaking ladder into the back and through a curtain into a single room interior with four wooden benches. What he had praised as air conditioning were three battery-operated fans. A fourth one was there as well, at least parts of it, and quite obviously inoperable.
The fans did little to ease the heat, but the shade provided by the wagon’s canopy felt really good. The entire contraption croaked and creaked as it started lumbering the other way.
Through the veiled curtains on the windows, I watched the sad, gut-wrenching train of Union citizens prodded and whipped. Most, however, seemed to have lost all hope and complied with the brutal and inhumane treatment. If there ever was an unfair situation, then this one took the cake. It took all my self-control not to jump out of the wagon and stuff those whips and prods up those slavers’ arses.
But all the fancy Sojo weaponry would do me little good against these heavily armed bastards. Well, I could take out the left with the needler and then use him as a shield to take out the—
She hissed, “Sit down!”
Only now, I realized I was halfway to the door. I wanted to say something but sat back down.
The rattling of the wagon became more intense, and looking past the driver, I saw the lizard now really moving. The driver turned his head and yelled against the croaking noises, the wind, and the thumping of the lizard’s feet, “Just got the word over the squawk-box, we got a T 8 coming from the Glagadrinn. I sure hope we make it!”
I turned to ask her, “What does he mean?”
She pointed outside the back of the wagon and said as loud as she could and with concern in her voice, “Out there is the Glagadrinn, it’s the great desert. That gray funnel cloud coming our way is a tornado. If it reaches us before we reach the canyons, we are in serious trouble!”
As I followed her pointing finger, I saw it, too; a monstrous funnel of dust-brown swirls and dust was coming toward us over the coverless flat landing field.
The lizard was now running, whipped to speed by its owner; I could see sturdy stone buildings at the sides of a narrow gap between the enormous cliff walls. We were still at least two thousand meters away, and the tornado behind us was gaining fast! It reached the chain of slaves, who tried to outrun this terrible force of nature, without any chance. Even though the same fate would most likely reach us, too, I could not help but feel grim satisfaction to see one of the slavers, ripped off his feet like a weightless toy, sucked up and disappear in the swirling dust.
We had tornadoes on Nilfeheim as well, and they were powerful and dangerous to any surface ship, especially in the first year of Shortsummer, but our burgs were sturdy and could withstand them. Being out on a flat surface in a wooden and metal contraption on wheels was something completely different. The howling of the wind made any conversation, no matter how loud I tried to yell, impossible. A thousand meters or less, the narrow gap and the sturdy stone buildings much closer now, but the lizard was at the end of its powers. I could tell as we slowed down!
Everything rattled, vibrated; the gray and dust brown whirling wind behind us now so close I saw it as one solid wall.
The tornado reached us. Up and down no longer had any meaning! I saw the canopy dissolving in a flash, pieces of wood. I tried to yell and hold her, but she was lifted and disappeared. Sand grains whipped to speed sanded and pelted me. The cloak gone, feeling the sand hammering my face with a painful stinging sensation, made me realize the Sojonit mask was gone as well. Something hard hit me over the head. Dazed, but not completely out, I finally fell and slammed like a wet fur hard on the rocky surface. Something hit me again, and that was all I remembered.
How nice it was to float in the ice-cold oceans of Nilfeheim. I was gliding deeper into the dark green abyss. Not far away, I could see the blurred dark outlines of Olafson rock as it looked from underwater. I wa
s not alone! Narth was swimming nearby, and so were Har-Hi and Wetmouth, even Cirruit and Krabbel. I also felt a huge unexplainable presence that reminded me of something I should know. Then my mind somehow reeled at the sight of seeing Cirruit and Krabbel swimming. Cirruit could not swim. Har-Hi hated water and Krabbel, my spider-like friend, was equally unsuited for this environment.
As I put my mind around this strange sight, I began to realize this was a dream and I was slowly rising to the surface. No matter how much I wanted to stay, I drifted upward toward a bright light. The closer I went, the more I felt pain, and the last dream images faded away and were replaced by the sensation of lying on a hard surface. The first thing I really noticed was the grinding dry grid in my mouth and nostrils. I blinked and remembered where I was. I spat and coughed and opened my sand and dust-caked eyes.
I was lying on the landing field, and to my surprise, it seemed that other than a few scratches and bumps, I had survived the tornado’s fury otherwise unharmed. Yet I could not get up!
I cursed as I saw it was the lizard’s tail that was pinning me down. It was thick as two men and still attached to the big animal that was lying on its side, bleeding from numerous wounds. If I had to make a guess, I didn’t think it would survive much longer.
I prodded myself up and tried to pull myself out from under that heavy fleshy weight. My efforts were successful; I was getting out.
Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 7 Page 61