by Mel Odom
Sage sipped his beer and knew she was speaking the truth.
“I know you want to find a way to get off Makaum and get back to the front lines of the war. That’s no secret. I felt the same way when I first got here, so I don’t begrudge you any of that. But this planet is as innocent as Phiromera was. It’ll never be the same now that everyone is here, but I want to rescue what I can of their way of life and their identities. I don’t want Makaum just to be a ticket to someplace else, just a stepping-stone or a resupply outpost.” Her chin thrust out defiantly, challenging him.
“What we’re going to be doing out in the jungle won’t just be for a ticket out of here.” Sage met her gaze with his, let her see the truth in his eyes. “I don’t know how much of a difference we’ll make, Sergeant, but I intend to make all the difference that I can while I’m here, and we start making that difference tomorrow.” He held up his bottle in a toast and Kiwanuka touched the neck of his bottle with hers.
“To the difference,” she said.
Sage nodded and they drank. “So what else did Mr. Huang tell you?”
Some of the heavy emotion lifted from Kiwanuka’s shoulders and she smiled a little more easily. “He gave me a location of what is potentially an illegal DawnStar lab site. If it’s still there.”
“Let’s have a look at that then.” Sage reached for his PAD and opened the map function.
TWENTY-FOUR
Market Square
Makaum Sprawl
0739 Hours Zulu Time
Jahup shifted his pack, settling the weight more comfortably across his shoulders, and walked through the market with his spear in hand. Despite the damage that had been done only a few days ago, the merchants had set up shop again and trade was brisk. Prices were called out by vendors, shot down with derogatory remarks by potential buyers, and other amounts suggested as the constant haggling resumed.
It was almost as if people had not died there. Except for the remains of the buildings that had burned and two of the vendors that Jahup had known who were now being readied for funerals.
Offworlder equipment, noisy and large, snorted and pawed the ground like a male dafeerorg going through his spawning cycle. Tracked divots stood out across the hard-packed earth, making the way hard. The offworlder lifter crawlers shoveled up debris in great mechanical maws and dumped them into waiting cargo crawlers that hauled the wreckage away to the fire pits that had constantly burned outside the sprawl for the last three days. Makaum children with bright eyes sat hunkered atop the nearby homes and watched the offworlders work.
Jahup could remember feeling wide-eyed with astonishment after the first ships had landed less than three years ago. The Terran soldiers in their polished armor had impressed him. He envied their guns and hardsuits because at that time Jahup had carried only a bow, spear, and knife, and knew the dangers he faced in the jungle. The few hand beamers and rifles that had survived the crash all those years ago remained in the possession of the sec details appointed by the Quass.
He wasn’t wide-eyed anymore. And he felt guilty over his part in prolonging the attack on the Terran sergeant. Perhaps Noojin was right. If the corps’ assassins had killed the sergeant and woman soldier quickly, maybe not all of the deaths and destruction would have resulted.
Guilt over his own part in the attack had settled firmly into Jahup’s mind. Aiding the sergeant had seemed only natural. The man was one against many, and the military did not take so much from the planet as the corps did.
Yet.
Noojin’s word and prophecy haunted Jahup. Although he had searched for her in all the places they sometimes went, he had not seen her since she’d left him that day. He had never gone so long without seeing her, and her absence cut like a knife.
Head down but still wary because he now knew that violence could break out again at any moment, Jahup skirted a pair of dafeerorg heavily loaded with trade goods. He needed to hunt. He knew that. It wasn’t just for the meat the sprawl required. He also needed to be out and away from all the people to properly clear his thoughts. He had always been a solitary person. He let his imagination go, and for a moment he was among the wild things in the jungle, living in the instant between heartbeats as the role of predator and prey shifted. One mistake and predator turned to prey in an eyeblink.
“Jahup.”
The familiar voice jerked Jahup from his reverie. He looked and spotted Leghef standing near the spice merchant’s kiosk. Despite his anxious and unsettled mood, seeing his grandmother put a smile on his face.
Changing course, he crossed the thoroughfare behind one of the offworlder crawlers loaded with wreckage and strode toward her.
Leghef was dressed well for the day, probably for the meeting of Quass that was scheduled later. She wore a traditional gown made of kifrik silk dyed in brilliant greens that made her stand out against the dirt and wreckage of the market. More silks covered her head to prevent bugs from alighting there. She was short, only coming up to Jahup’s shoulder, which was not an overly high distance from the ground itself. Her black hair held thick threads of gray these days, but Jahup didn’t know if age had caused those or if it was her dealings with the offworlders. Her face was lean and brown, only marred by a few wrinkles.
“Good morning, son of my son.” Leghef curtsied slightly in the Old way. Despite her years, she remained physically able and exercised vigorously. In the whole time that he had known her, Jahup had seldom seen her ill.
“Good morning, mother of my father.” Jahup bowed as well, but felt awkward in his protective hunting clothes. The bow across his back and the short spear in his hand made him stand out as well. He did not care for the Old manners, thought they were annoying and limiting. That was one of the reasons he seldom went to meetings of the Quass.
“You have not come to see me in a long while. I have missed you.” His grandmother regarded him.
Guilt assailed Jahup but he pushed it aside. With all the problems that faced his grandmother, his lack of visiting wasn’t a main concern. With the invasion of the offworlders, they all had more pressing issues. “I have been busy. I apologize for my inattentiveness. I will amend that as soon as I am able.”
Grandmother Leghef took him by his free arm, and though she was old, her grip held steel. “Walk with me for a while and I will let you return to your day.”
“Of course.” Jahup paced beside her. Several merchants and passersby acknowledged her presence with polite greetings. She wasn’t just Quass. She was also a woman who was a friend and mentor to many.
“You are preparing to go back into the jungle?”
“People do not stop eating. We need meat, and with the offworlders now forever poking about in our jungles, scaring away the creatures we take for our food, we have to go farther to get it.”
“I know. I worry about you ranging out in those far reaches. I used to hunt there myself and it was always dangerous.”
Jahup grinned at her. “You always worry about me.”
“It is the task your mother and my son left to me after they passed.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“So you think.”
His grandmother’s words stung even though Jahup knew she did not intend for them to, and he spoke somewhat brusquely. “I help feed the people, Quass. I am capable of taking care of myself.”
Leghef squeezed his arm in warning. “Careful. Even if you do not disrespect a Quass—”
“I would never.”
“—you still run the risk of hurting your grandmother’s feelings.”
“I would sooner throw myself upon the thorns of a gimumigu tree filled with stinging wovoro that could burrow into my skin and nest along my bones.” Jahup gave her the saddest look he could summon.
She frowned at him in mock despair. “That is positively horrid.”
Enjoying the humor they always had between them, Jahup grinned and felt a lightness of heart he had not experienced in days. “I am inspired by the stories you used to tell me
as a child.”
“I did not tell you those stories. Your father did.”
“He always assured me they were true because he’d gotten them from you.”
“He blamed me for his excesses, though he chose to give into them.” She smiled at the memory, and the sadness that clung to her was stamped deeply into the expression. “I still worry about you.”
“I worry more about you.” Jahup kissed the top of her head, choosing to treat her as his grandmother and not as Quass. “After all, I am only combatting creatures we have known all our lives. You, on the other hand, are being forced to contend with the offworlder conquerors whom we may never truly know.”
“I am intelligent enough to recognize the dangers they pose, and wise enough to pick my battles among them.” Leghef nodded to a group of children who called out greetings to her as they passed by under their mother’s watchful eyes. “I have been talking to Noojin.”
“She adores you.”
“And well she should.”
“She also always seeks you out when she wishes you to influence me.” Jahup kept bitter words and a remonstration about that irritating habit to himself. That argument would be with Noojin, not his grandmother. With Noojin he at least stood a chance of being heard.
“I talked with her last night. She said she has not seen you in a few days.”
Jahup grew more frustrated at Noojin. The girl was a meddler when she thought she could get away with it. “I have not seen her because she has not wished me to see her. She is well?”
“She is. She said she has chosen to make herself scarce.”
Jahup said nothing because it was a time for listening. He could not always be certain of those times when his grandmother first began speaking, but he knew them when she revealed them.
“You and Noojin have a difference of opinion about the offworlders.” Leghef looked up at him. “She thinks you have become less wary of them.”
“No. They are all bad. I wish they would climb into their ships and vanish back into the stars. Or that we were strong enough to drive them from Makaum.” That was the truth. Especially after the attack in the market.
“Even the Terran sergeant you seem so interested in?”
“I am not interested in him.” Jahup replied without hesitation, hoping in vain to avoid further discussion of the sergeant and his interest in the offworlder.
“Noojin told me you killed some of the men that were trying to kill the sergeant during the attack.”
“Noojin had no business telling you that.”
She shot him a look filled with rebuke but softened by a grandmother’s love. “Am I not Quass? Am I not responsible for our people and therefore need to know such things?”
Realizing he had entered an argument he would never win, Jahup remained silent and walked slowly in step with his grandmother.
“And of equal importance, I am your grandmother and would not see you do something foolish.”
“Helping the sergeant was not foolish.”
“Why would you do such a thing and risk your life as well as Noojin’s?”
“We escaped without harm.”
“You did, but perhaps you were luckier than you wish to admit, and that does not tell me why you involved yourself in the first place.”
Jahup shook his head. “It does not matter. I will not make that mistake again.”
Leghef stopped to inspect a tiny wagon of corok. The small melons were the size of two fists together and stayed in season most of the year. They were filled with sweet yellow meat. The juice could be fermented and turned into wine, and was one of the major exports Makaum vintners shipped offworld. The merchant stepped forward and greeted Leghef. “Good morning, Quass. As you can see, I have many fine fruits today. For you, I will make a special price.”
“Thank you, Lunajo, but I have no need for a special price. I am Quass, as well as a woman of means. I can pay your price.” She and Jahup’s grandfather owned large tracts of cultivated land, earned because they had been successful in agricultural endeavors. When the sprawl had first been established, only those who were prosperous tenders of the land were given property to manage.
Even though Jahup was not certain he’d ever seen the merchant before, he was not surprised his grandmother knew the man’s name. She was Quass, and as such she was part of the bond that held the people together. When the survivors had first stumbled from the wreckage of the generation ship, they had recognized the need for negotiators, and for people who would not forget the lessons of what had gone before. Telilu, his younger sister, was already in training to become Quass.
His grandmother made a few corok selections, paid for them, and shoved the melons into the catchall net she carried for her purchases. Jahup asked if he could carry them for her and she allowed it. They continued on their way.
“Do you know who sent the assassins after the Terran sergeant?” Leghef asked.
Jahup wondered why his grandmother was so interested in the topic. “No.”
“But you think you do.”
“Yes. I think Velesko Kos was responsible.”
“No one can prove this because there is no solid information, but I believe you are right.” Leghef sighed. “The offworlder let his anger get ahead of him. He views the business with the sergeant as a personal thing and he is loath to let the matter go.”
“I think so too.”
Leghef glanced up at Jahup. “The night the Terran sergeant carried that dead body into the offworlder club and threw it at the feet of Velesko Kos impressed you.”
For an instant, Jahup hesitated, and in doing so knew that he had already given his grandmother the answer she was looking for. He had never been able to hide anything from her. “I have never seen a braver thing.”
“Nor a more foolish one,” his grandmother said sharply. “The Terran sergeant could just as easily have been killed.”
“But he wasn’t. And if I think Velesko Kos had tried to kill him, the sergeant would have sold his life dearly.”
“That act that night inspired the violence that has disrupted this place and left so many of our people dead or hurt.”
Jahup could not argue that because he knew it was true, and he felt guilty for having felt so enamored of the sergeant’s actions at the time. Still, doing such a thing had been brave and . . . defiant. No one had treated Velesko Kos in such a manner.
“In all the years that we have lived on Makaum after losing our homeworld, we have known peace and left behind the war that chased us to this place. More or less,” his grandmother said.
Jahup knew that was not entirely true. The civil war that had raged on the world their ship had come from still held echoes in the Makaum population. History was a hard thing to forget, even if that world no longer existed.
His grandmother continued. “Part of our peace is because of the wisdom of the Quass. But part of it is because we knew we only had ourselves to lean on for survival. When the initial groups kept growing so large they could not effectively hunt and forage for themselves, they fragmented, always beginning anew and not able to forge a unified community. Once farming was instituted and successful, they started banding together in this place. They knew they would become targets for the predators in the jungle, those who would come forth to hunt. But they took that chance because they felt they had enough numbers to make that happen.”
The old stories danced inside Jahup’s memories. As a child, they had sat within the Tale Circle and listened to the Quass relate stories about the Beginning Days. Those stories, handed down generation after generation after generation, had bound the young together. The lesson was simple. Together, they stood. Divided they would become little more than creatures again, the way they had been after the Fall. The old, the young, and the weak would be easy prey for everything that would hunt them. Many sacrifices had been made before the people were able to better fend for themselves against the hostile jungle.
“Over the years, there has been some unrest within
our people,” Leghef went on, “but never did we think we would confront what we are now facing.”
“The offworlders?” Jahup shook his head. “We do not have to accept them.”
“But some of our people do accept them.” Leghef came to a stop beside her personal vehicle, a wooden box on wheels that was pulled by two dafeerorg in harness. “Like you, some of our people see things in the offworlders that they respect. Or desire. For some it’s just as simple as having a way to other worlds, to other experiences. Many of our people wish for simpler, easier lives, and they believe it lies out there among the stars.”
Old Pekoz stood near the beasts and looked like a withered reed the wind could blow away at any moment. As long as Jahup could remember, Pekoz had served his grandmother. Jahup’s father had related stories of the old beast handler when Jahup had been a child. If the stories were to be believed, and Jahup thought they were, Pekoz had been a formidable warrior and hunter.
Silently, respectfully, Pekoz opened the riding area of the vehicle and wooden steps swung out to allow Leghef to board. Despite his focus on the Quass, the driver remained attentive to everything that went on around them.
“The greatest threat we have facing us now is not the offworlders, but the choices their presence here allows us to make.” Leghef accepted Pekoz’s hand and stepped into the vehicle. The dafeerorg stamped restlessly and made the harness jingle.
“You have always supported choice,” Jahup reminded her. “You wanted me to become a blacksmith, remember? Or a craftsman? Not a hunter. But when it came time to stand before the Quass and be Counted and declare my vocation, you supported me.” The Counting was an important part of Makaum culture. It allowed the community to identify and supply trades and positions the people needed. During some years, there was not much latitude and positions had to be filled. Jahup had been fortunate during his Counting year and been more able to choose. Of course, with the high attrition rate among the hunter parties, becoming a hunter was easy enough.
Leghef smiled at Jahup. “I did support your decision, but it was the most fearful thing I had done in a long time. I had not considered your father dying while you were yet so young, nor your mother’s death so soon after.” She reached out and stroked his cheek as though he were a child again. “I want you to be careful, son of my son.”