by Trevor Scott
“Zega is just one of twenty-four Dinari in charge of the different sectors on this colony. If he wanted to seize power, he’s still got a few obstacles in his way. That’s not even counting all of the Ansarans and the Caretaker. Do we even know what tools they have at their disposal?”
“In truth, no. Liam and Zega have been working for months toward some end. While we can suspect all we want, we need hard evidence.”
“Say we got the evidence, what then? This is Liam we’re talking about.”
Nix looked around the bar and whispered, “What do you do with a good person who does the wrong thing? Restrain them.”
“What about Zega?” Saturn asked, unconvinced.
“Let me worry about him. I want you to keep an eye on Liam. If he’s going to do something stupid in the name of doing the right thing, stop him, or he might just get himself killed. Or worse, all of us as well.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” she said.
Nix nodded and gripped the edge of the bar.
“Me too. But the alternative is untenable.”
“Who else knows about this? Ju-Long? Astrid?”
Nix cringed at the sound of Astrid’s name. He still hadn’t gotten used to having an Ansaran in their inner circle. When they’d found her on the planet Narra, she and Nix had been at each other’s throats. Now they seemed to avoid each other for the sake of the rest of the crew. Nix had sent her to live with his friend Sestra, a Dinari woman who’d helped them once or twice before. Now Saturn was worried they’d owe her a second favor, something that wasn’t taken lightly on Surya.
“Only the two of us. We both know Ju-Long has had other things on his mind lately.”
Ju-Long was the first human challenger to compete in the Dinari’s annual Tournament of Fists. The tournament was a lot like boxing, but with electrified barbs attached to the knuckles of the fighters. It was more of a nuisance to the Dinari with their thick and scaly hides, but it proved a far more dangerous sport for a human competitor. Still, Ju-Long came out on top and became an overnight sensation among the Dinari people. To say becoming a celebrity went to his head would be an understatement.
Saturn heard a clunk at the door and turned to see dust falling from the cracks in the seams of the wooden planks, shooting out where the morning light seeped through onto the stone floor. The door swung open and a short, brawny human stumbled through, holding a lump on his forehead. Ju-Long was a stout man with more muscle than he knew what to do with and subtle Asian features that made him pleasing to the eye, supposing his personality was taken out of the equation.
“Did one of you change the door handle?” Ju-Long slurred, checking the bump on his head for signs of blood.
“Yes,” Saturn said sarcastically. “We live to torment you.”
Saturn turned her back to Ju-Long and covered her face with her hands, embarrassed for her species. She knew Ju-Long was a lot smarter than he let on, but she was afraid his escapades would make the human race a laughing stock. There were only three humans in the Ansara System and she felt a need to be seen as something other than fools. Anything other than fools, in fact.
Nix noticed her expression and said casually, “What? I like drunk Ju-Long.”
3
Saturn watched Ju-Long stumble up to the bar, finding his way onto one of the open stools with great effort. Nix poured him a glass of clear liquid and slid it down the bar to his crewmate’s waiting hand. Saturn clenched her jaw in frustration and shot Nix her coldest glare. Perhaps Nix had finally started to understand her expressions, because he nodded, confidently acknowledging her annoyance.
“Drink up, Ju-Long,” the Dinari said.
Ju-Long chugged the entire glass, far more than an average shot. Saturn got a sick feeling in her stomach just watching him. It really was too early to be drinking. When he was finished, he slammed the glass down hard on the stone top, chipping the bottom edge and sending a crack up the side.
“Yuck,” Ju-Long declared before examining his cracked glass. “Whoever built this bar wasn’t thinking right. You must go through a million glasses.”
Nix replied, “Dinari don’t slam them down when they’re finished. How do you feel?”
Ju-Long eyed him quizzically and replied, “Fine. Clear. What was in that?”
“An ancient remedy. Riken gives it out when someone gets too rowdy. It helps diffuse the toxins in your blood.”
“Well, thanks, but I spent a lot of time and effort getting drunk.”
“Saturn has a job for you.”
“She does?” Ju-Long asked
Saturn’s eyes widened. “I do?”
The edges of Nix’s mouth curled up and his long tongue massaged his pointed teeth.
“Sestra tells me that Astrid’s been giving her problems. She doesn’t like being in hiding. If she’s anything like the other Ansarans I’ve met, her sense of superiority will only let her stay put for so long before she does something stupid. Let’s not forget she still has information we need.”
“You’re wanting us to get close to her?” Saturn asked.
“I think Ju-Long has already done a fine job of gaining her trust. Your façade has worked better than any of us could have hoped.”
Ju-Long squinted and asked menacingly, “What façade?”
“She does trust you,” Saturn said to her human companion. “My feelings about her aside, Nix is right. If we can find out anything more about the Quantum Trigger or these other devices Vesta Corporation has made, we need to do what we can to make sure we get our hands on that information.”
Ju-Long crushed the already chipped shot glass in his hand and sprinkled the tiny chunks onto the stone bar. The pebbles of glass were tinted with scant droplets of his blood. Ju-Long wiped his hand off on his loose tan shirt and regarded Nix angrily.
“Astrid will tell us what we need to know when she’s good and ready. I won’t use her in whatever sick game you’ve dreamed up. You should look in the mirror, Nix. You’re becoming more like Zega every day.”
With that, Ju-Long brushed past Saturn and pushed his way out the door into the bright orange morning light. Saturn could hear a hover bike jump to life outside and the dull whoosh as it sped away, sending a plume of sand through the still-open door.
“I better follow him,” Saturn said, making for the doorway.
Nix called after her and she stopped, turning to see a look of concern cross his visage. The Dinari cautioned, “Ju-Long is getting too close to her. She’s an Ansaran. We both know what she’s capable of. I think it’s better if we look at this situation as transactional in nature. I don’t want to see Ju-Long hurt any more than you do.”
Saturn lowered her eyes and mumbled, “I know.”
Without making further eye contact, she took hold of the rusted metal handle and shut the large wooden door behind her. A flurry of sand brushed past her face and was immediately entangled in her brown ponytail. She’d stopped trying to keep the sand out months ago. It was futile. The tangled mess that was her hair wouldn’t be tamed and it wasn’t as if the bald Dinari or Ansarans had a hair brush at their disposal.
Saturn walked around the side of the building to where she kept her own hover bike. Even when its engine wasn’t running it had a way of hovering slightly off the ground, as though it was resisting a hidden magnetic field slightly under the surface of the planet. She mounted the long bike and took hold of the two leather-trimmed handles. With a single push of a button, the bike lifted up another couple of feet and the console lit up, showing her a detailed readout of the colony. She found the tracker in Ju-Long’s bike and watched the yellow dot flash as it moved along one of the main roads toward Sestra’s shop at the edge of the Sector Seven.
Saturn tilted her foot down on the pedal and the bike zoomed out of the alley and onto the much larger main street. The sun was at a steep angle at her back, lighting up the low buildings all around her as well as the countless spires in the distance, each so high she couldn’t see the top even if she
craned her neck all the way back. The sun continued to rise higher; soon the temperature would be uncomfortably hot. Due to the location of the colony, there really wasn’t any sort of seasons Saturn could discern. There was only hot and arid. She rotated her foot farther forward. The sooner this was over with the better.
•
Nix poured himself a glass of the clear liquid and raised it above his mouth, pouring it down his throat and bypassing his tongue entirely. The fluid cooled his throat on the way down and made his golden eyes perk open wide. His pupils darted to the top of the stairs. He’d seen it before his ears had picked up the sound. Bare feet shuffled down the steps and the half-naked Liam appeared, the rest of his clothes in hand.
“What was all that racket?” he asked, dropping his boots to the floor and slipping his ivory shirt over his head. The ragged deep V was held together by lightly-colored strings and the material looked to be soft to the touch. Not that Nix’s scaled fingers would be able to tell much of a difference.
“Saturn and Ju-Long were just heading out to check on Astrid. Where are you going so early?”
Liam avoided making eye contact with Nix. He continued to dress and said, “I’ve got a quick job to do, nothing too important.”
“Another job for Zega I presume?”
“Like I said, nothing too important. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Liam slid one foot after the other into their respective boots and tightened the laces.
“I see,” Nix said flatly. “Could I tag along? Don’t want to get rusty.”
Liam had finished dressing and stood up tall before him. He regarded Nix apologetically and hedged, “It’s not the best time. I’m working a mark for Zega and I just can’t bring anyone else in on it yet. You understand.”
“Of course,” Nix said with a grimace, watching Liam make his way to the door.
“I’ll be back soon. Maybe we can take another quick job when I get back.”
“I look forward to it,” Nix said with an unintentionally dark voice, his eyes narrowed as Liam shut the door behind him.
Nix quickly poured another shot of the clear remedy and tilted his head back, swallowing it all in one gulp. He clacked the glass down on the bar a little harder than he intended and a chip flew out from the bottom. So much for the level-headed Dinari stereotype. He cursed and reached behind the bar to retrieve a small leather sack, slinging it over his shoulder and out of the way of his cloak. He raised the hood of his cloak right down to the edge of his golden eyes, veiling much of his face in shadow. He wrapped his clawed hands around the front door’s handle and yanked. It slammed against the wall, shutting firmly behind him a moment later as he made his way out into the sand after Liam.
4
The streets that had been packed with crowds of people a few days before were now nearly bare, with only a few brave Dinari still tending their shops at the markets. Festivals came and went on Surya with no apparent rhyme or reason. It was as though they didn’t fall on any sort of calendar date, only when a wild hair came over a few dozen shopkeepers. Enterprising Dinari from the twenty-four sectors of the colony would find out and set up shop for a day or two. Word had it the last pop-up market hadn’t gone as expected. Several Dinari were murdered with no suspects.
Saturn let up on her bike’s accelerator and slowed to make a turn near the edge of Sector Seven. Overhead, two Ansaran ships hovered a hundred feet over the street, their dual rotors sending up plumes of sand in all directions. Saturn stopped her bike and covered her eyes with her bare forearm. The rough grains of sand pelted her tanned skin.
The Ansaran vessels ascended high up into the sky, leaving Saturn flummoxed. The Ansarans had been cracking down recently, but mostly at night. Strict curfews had been in place for weeks. Nix was right about Liam, and Toras must have been aware of whatever was going on with him as well. She still couldn’t see what angle they were playing, but it was clear that at street-level things weren’t going well for the Dinari. There was unrest bubbling at the edges of every alleyway.
The dust began to settle and Saturn tilted her boot against the accelerator, only to release it after traveling just a few feet. On the side of the street lay the body of a Dinari child with sand-colored scales, blackened in spots where he’d been struck by an Ansaran laser blast. He must have only been ten Earth years of age, fewer by Dinari standards. Saturn knew the Dinari lived longer lives than humans, but the mystery was by how much? His body was mangled in a gruesome way, blood still trickling out of the partially cauterized wound. What did drip down to the packed sand of the street congealed into a gruesome crimson mud. Saturn’s eyes drifted up the three-story clay wall behind the child’s body.
The words emblazoned there were still fresh, dripping red drops down the sandy wall, guided by the many cracks which ran down to the very foundation. The chip implanted at the base of Saturn’s neck translated the foreign symbols scrawled out before her. It read: Dinari Rising.
Saturn looked back to the child on the side of the sandy street and noticed his small clawed hand was covered in a red dye that would have been easy to mistake for blood. Perhaps things were even worse than she had imagined.
She gripped the leather handles of her hover bike and angrily slammed down on the accelerator, increasing its speed until she began to have tunnel-vision. The readout displayed her location. She was approaching Sestra’s shop. Reluctantly, she eased off the power and let herself slow to a more maneuverable speed, turning into a narrow alleyway and pulling up behind Ju-Long’s deserted bike. He couldn’t have been inside for long because the dust hadn’t yet settled around his vehicle.
Saturn powered down her hover bike and dismounted, wiping away the sand that had accumulated in the cracks of her tan pants. They were baggier than she preferred, but after a little experience in the desert she found that keeping a little distance between her skin and her clothing kept her from overheating. She adjusted the shoulder straps on her dusty white tank top and could feel a sunburn coming on quickly. She’d left in such a hurry she’d forgotten her cloak.
Looking both ways in the thin alley, she saw no one. Without bothering to knock, she pushed through the door to Sestra’s shop, which was crafted from a dozen wooden planks, roughly cut and not sanded. Inside, she saw a number of curiosities scattered about on the rickety handmade shelves, with more still presented on pedestals of stone that jutted up from the foundation every so often. Saturn had only been in the shop a few times before, and could honestly say that none of the experiences had been particularly pleasant. Still, she enjoyed seeing the odd gadgets that filled Sestra’s displays and found herself imagining the various purposes of the many devices.
A raspy voice called to her, “You can look, but I’m afraid most of what you see would cost you more favors than you could repay in a lifetime.”
Saturn turned and regarded the squat Dinari female. Her features were softer than Nix’s, her scales seeming to have fewer deep grooves between them which made her skin almost smooth to the casual onlooker. Saturn had remembered the Dinari’s scales being burned from the sun the first time they’d met, but in recent visits she appeared to have stayed indoors because her skin had returned to a paler sand color. Like Nix, her eyes were bulbous and gold, with vertical black slits which changed significantly with the light. Her nose was somewhere between a human’s and a snake’s, with slits for nostrils which curled around, culminating in small circle.
Her garments clung tightly to her body, in contrast to her usual cloak with a high cowl. The Dinari’s form was fit, which surprised Saturn. With the Dinari’s raspy voice and chilly demeanor she’d always assumed the shopkeeper was far older. Without her cloak to obscure her shape, it was clear that Saturn had been mistaken.
“Come now, Sestra,” Saturn responded in kind. “Nothing in here looks very expensive.”
“Yes, but you have nothing I want,” Sestra quipped.
Saturn’s mouth curled up into a smile. She never could tell exactly where she s
tood with Sestra. When Nix wasn’t around, she wasn’t the kindest person, yet she’d always complied with Nix’s requests. There was a story there that she hadn’t been able to beat out of her Dinari companion.
“So, the Ansaran has been giving you trouble I hear?”
The Dinari grimaced and rasped angrily, “Insufferable. Unbearable! If you don’t take her with you when you leave—”
Saturn crossed her arms and asked, “You’ll what?”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this. It seems all I do for you people is favors and I get stuck with an Ansaran; in my home! Do you know how insulting that is? I chose my line of work specifically to avoid such an arrangement.”
“Calm yourself. It’s only temporary.”
“Temporary suggests an end. I’ve heard of no timeline for her removal.”
“She has information we need. When we have it, other arrangements will be made. Off-world arrangements.”
Saturn thought she saw Sestra smile briefly, but it seemed so out of character for her, Saturn half-convinced herself she’d imagined it.
“Show me to her.”
“You’ll have to pry that brute off of her if you want to talk.”
“Let me worry about Ju-Long.”
Sestra nodded and led her around the glass counter at the back of the shop and through the tattered-cloth curtain. The Dinari reached up to the low ceiling and grabbed an orb of light the size of her fist. The orb wasn’t attached to anything, much like the orbs that floated near the ceiling of The Sand’s Edge bar. One of these days, Saturn was going to get around to asking how they worked. When she did, she’d ask someone with a bit more personality than Sestra.
At the end of the tight, winding corridor, they came to an open area with shelves lined with gadgets of all types and purposes. Saturn only knew the purpose of one of the devices on the shelf. Her eyes found the copper-colored goggles sitting on a shelf just below eye level. When she looked into the lenses she was reminded of Liam’s screams as he fought the link that connected his mind to Toras. At the time, alien telepathic links were shocking. Now, that sort of thing was just another day on Surya.