Satan's Forge (Star Sojourner Book 5)

by Jean Kilczer

  “All they want is you. When they took you back to this cell, people were following, crying and moaning. One Denebrian woman stopped and picked up a stone that had your blood on it.”

  I exhaled a breath. “They're looking for a religious leader.”

  “They're looking for you. They want to know that Boss Slade didn't break your spirit.”

  “Maybe he did.”

  “Then they're lost. They'll give up.”

  “Do I look like Spartacus, Jesus Christ, M.L. King, Nat Crowell? I'm worn down, Dannie. I've got nothing left to give.”

  She brushed fingers through my hair. “They know that. If you went out there now, it would give them the hope they need that the spirit can't be broken. They might come together and plan their own rebellion. If you wait until you're healed, it won't have the same effect.”

  I pressed my hand to her round cheek. “How come you're so wise for such a kid?”

  She knitted her brows. “I think a lot.”

  “Christ and Buddha. OK. Get my shirt, Dannie.” It lay across the chair, with my jacket.

  “Suppose you leave it off?”

  “Oh, I get it. Wear my wounds like a badge of honor. Why not?”

  It was morning, but New Lithnia's hot sun already blazed and threw stark shadows like bars across the mining camp. Dannie tied my shirt around my waist. I squinted in the glare of the sun. It burned my back with strokes of heat. Sweat trickled down my ribs. My mouth felt dry again. The crack of pick axes breaking through slabs of salt mixed with the mindless rhythm of pumps.

  I stumbled and caught myself. “Hold onto me, Dannie.” I felt light-headed and dizzy.

  “Oh, I will.” She gripped my arm tighter.

  A murmur of voices from slaves as Dannie and I walked into the center of camp, mixed with the brash bell that announced breakfast. Five BEM kitchen slaves were setting out bins of food, Terran and alien, on a long table made of wooden planks.

  Work stopped and the slaves formed lines alongside the table.

  The smell of food turned my stomach. “I can't eat.”

  “You've got to try, hon. You need something in your stomach.”

  I nodded.

  As we approached the table, the line of slaves broke up and they moved aside to let us through. Some bowed their heads as we went by. Some reached out to touch me.

  I smiled at them, murmured a few “Good mornings,” though it seemed that “Hosanna” might've been more appropriate.

  The mounted guards unclipped their coiled whips and lifted them threateningly, but their horses felt the riders' anxiety. They snorted and threw back their heads. One reared and jolted his rider when he came down on stiff front legs.

  Dannie and I took metal plates from the stack. A BEM behind the table filled them with oatmeal, pats of butter and scrambled eggs with four of his eight tentacles.

  As Dannie and I turned to walk away, a mounted guard raised his whip and lashed the plate out of my hand.

  “Who said ye could eat, traitor?”

  Here we go, I thought as I picked up another plate from the stack and held it out to the BEM cook. I saw sweat ooze from around the BEM's large, yellow, disc-like eyes. A low murmur rose from the slaves as they put down their plates. Some stood up.

  The BEM hesitated. His tentacles trembled as the slaves silently gathered around us. The BEM hurriedly filled my plate and retreated back from the table.

  I turned to go, holding my breath, standing between the guard and Dannie. The guard looked up at the window in the high tower. The blinds were open. Slade's bulky figure was silhouetted behind them.

  As I started to walk away with Dannie, the guard snapped his whip and sent my plate spinning into the air.

  The other mounted guards left their stations and trotted their horses through the crowd, dragging uncoiled whips.

  My move, I thought, and picked up yet another empty plate. I heard the BEM cook groan. I felt like groaning myself.

  “Do you have to do this?” he whispered over the table.

  “I think so,” I said, and held out the plate.

  He spilled eggs and oatmeal as he filled my plate with trembling tentacles.

  The close guard glanced at the slaves as they closed ranks around me and nudged his horse aside with their shoulders. He lifted his whip and stared up at the window.

  I winced.

  The blinds snapped shut. The guard's shoulders relaxed. He coiled his whip. “Ye got away with it this time,” he told me and rested his hand on the butt of his holstered stingler.

  I squinted up at him. “Could be ye are the one who got away with it.”

  I smiled at Dannie as we made our way to an empty crate. “That was a lot of trouble for a breakfast I didn't even want.” I sat down gingerly and sighed. Dannie sat beside me.

  The guard turned his horse sharply and kicked his sides. The animal whinnied and sprang into a gallop that raised dust. His mouth was open.

  “Bastard!” I said.

  The other guards returned to their stations.

  I felt hot beyond the rising temperature as I stared at my plate of food. “I can't eat.”

  “The people are watching you, Jules. Pretend to eat. You're their hero now.”

  “Pretend? First we were supposed to pretend to make love. Now I'm supposed to pretend to eat. What's next?”

  She grinned. “You could pretend to give me a kiss.” She pursed her lips and tapped them.

  I had to smile. Against the pain in my back. Against all that had happened. Against feeling weak and dizzy and hot, I kissed her gently on her lips and wondered if it were her first.

  Did anybody ever tell you have a great smile?" she said.

  “Yeah. A few women have noticed that I –”

  She grabbed my head in both hands, pulled me closer and rubbed her lips against mine in an alluring kiss, and tried to probe past my closed lips with her tongue. Against all odds, my body responded as she pressed her breasts against my chest.

  “Dannie!” My plate slid off my lap as I pried her hands from my head.

  “What?” She smiled.

  “Don't ever do that again. I mean it.”

  Her smile grew to an impish grin. “Why? Are you a virgin?”

  “Eat your breakfast…kid.”

  She pressed her palm to my forehead. “You're burning up, hon. I don't think I did that to you.” She glanced at my plate on the ground and stood up. “I'll get you another one.” She purposely swayed her hips as she walked toward the table.

  I shook my head.

  I ate some scrambled eggs just to please Dannie. I would've preferred coffee. I closed my eyes and hung my head. My body ached all over. I wanted to curl up on the ground and sleep right there.

  Dannie helped me to the open cell and the cot. I just about fell onto it.

  “Your back, Jules.” Her voice quavered.

  “Not a pretty sight?”

  “The wounds. Some of them are infected.” She felt my forehead again. “You're burning up.”

  “I know.” I just hadn't wanted to admit it. “Get me some water, OK?”

  She was quiet as she brought it back. I drank it slowly, relishing the cool feel as it slid into my stomach. Dannie soaked a towel in cold water and laid it across my forehead.

  “Thanks, kid.” But suddenly I felt chilled and pulled it off.

  “Oh, keep it on, hon.” She replaced it and kissed me lightly on the cheek. “I'm going to ask a guard who's been nice to me if he has some Terran medicine for a fever. And maybe pain pills.”

  I reached out a hand and she took it. “Don't get into trouble over it.” I took a shuddering breath. “And don't be gone long, OK?”

  “I won't.” I heard her leave the cell. Her steps faded down the long stone hallway.

  That was the last time I ever saw her.

  I slept again. The cell was empty when I awoke. “Dannie?” My mouth was dry as dust, but I knew I'd never make it to the bathroom and back.

  I closed my ey
es. I wanted to sleep again and get away from this searing pain. I drifted off.

  It was night when I woke up. “Dannie?”

  Only the caw of a bird as it swept past my window. The dark cell was striped with moonlight. The smell of wet, moldy cement hung heavy. I felt chilled, but there was no blanket. I should have known. Boss Slade's plan was to let me die in this cell, hidden from the view of the slaves. Alone. I coughed and felt the soreness in my chest. If only I had a blanket and some water, I thought I could make it through the night. But I was so tired.

  I closed my eyes and dreamed a red landscape of fires. A crimson figure with horns rose out of flames. His grotesque snout opened in a cruel leer as he threw naked humans into the fire. Flames engulfed their terrified faces. Satan, I thought in my sleep and moaned. Satan's Forge.

  I awoke with a start. Pain shot across my back as I jumped. My head was throbbing. I ran my tongue over dry lips and coughed. Where was Dannie? What had they done to her? “Dannie!” I called weakly and shivered with chills. The touch of a human hand is never as comforting as when you are alone with pain. But the only sound was the drip of water down the cracked wall as it puddled on the floor.

  I closed my eyes and drifted off.

  “There he is!” a voice in my dream said. “Joe. We've got him. Bring the cubair around to the tower complex.”

  A strong hand gripped my arm and pulled.

  I yelled as pain ripped across my back.

  “C'mon, Jules. Get up!”

  There was a black creature and a white one in my dream. The white one was massive and furred. He whined as he dragged me to my feet. I tried to stand but I sagged against him. They put my arms around their shoulders. Even in my sleep, I was thirsty. “There's a puddle,” I gasped. “I need a drink.”

  “Not right now, tag.” The black one grabbed my jacket from the chair and we went down a long, blurry hallway that seemed to move like a snake. Were they taking me to the flames?

  I panicked when we reached a black metal door that seemed to sway and bend “Let go of me. I'm going back!” I struggled against them, but they just gripped me tighter. “Dannie!” I cried.

  The furry white one swung the door open with a massive paw. Cold night air hit my face.

  This was no dream.

  Through a haze of sweeping spotlights I saw mounted guards galloping in different directions. The whine of vehicles fought with the banshee wails of sirens.

  “Who are they after?” I asked as a vehicle raced by and I was yanked back into shadows.

  “They want you to stay, Terran Jules friend,” the furry white one said and licked my cheek.

  “Did you see Dannie?” I asked him.

  “Quiet!” the black one said as an open vehicle with Lithium Love Mine painted across the door skidded by, flinging pebbles and dirt behind it.

  “Do you have an aspirin?” I asked the white one. “I've got a splitting headache.”

  “Terran ass prin for the splitting head?” He shook his snout. “No. Sorry I am, not.”

  The black one took out a comlink. “We're outside, Joe,” he called into it. “Come ahead.”

  A small aircar, wheels lowered, taxied up to us and skidded sideways to a stop. The door flew open. A man with a cap reached out from the passenger seat and tried to pull me inside. I pulled back. “Are you kidnapping me again?”

  The black one shoved me into the back seat, jumped in after me, and dragged my legs inside. “Go!” he told the driver.

  The white one leaped into the open trunk behind us.

  The seat was soft. I sprawled across it, but I shivered with chills. “Do you have a blanket and some water?” I asked the black one as the craft tore into the night sky.

  A hot beam of light flashed by the window. Then a second one, closer, lit the cab.

  The black one chuckled as the craft soared to meet the stars. “Man, those mothers couldn't hit the side of a barn if they were in it.”

  “That's because,” the white one said from the back, “their eyes are too far apart for good look-ahead at things.”

  “And their brains,” the black one replied, “are up their asses.”

  “I didn't know that,” the white one said and tumbled into the seat beside me.

  Two men, humans, were in the front seats. One turned and reached out a hand to me. “We're gonna take good care of you, Bubba.”

  So that was my name? Bubba. But what was my last name? I tried to think. “I don't feel so good,” I said as the stars reeled.

  “What do you think, Bat?” The driver asked in a gravelly voice.

  “I have to examine him, Joe. The wounds are infected.”

  I heard the fluffy one whine and felt him gently stroke my hair with a massive paw. He covered my shoulder with a warm arm and I laid my head against him. It felt comfortable and familiar. “You have any ibuprofen?” I asked him.

  He whined and shook his head. “Only Vegan Grow-New-Undercoat pills in my pouch.”

  “I'm so depressed,” I said, closed my eyes and fell asleep.

  * * *

  I woke up when I felt pressure on both my shoulders. “What do you think you're doing?”

  “These are pain patches.” The tag with the wrinkled military cap smiled. "In a few minutes the pain will begin to subside.

  “Don't touch my back.”

  “I'm not.”

  I realized I was resting against the white, fluffy one. Two other tags, the black one and the older human, stood and watched me. I peered as a rattlesnake took form and slithered toward the black one. “Look out,” I croaked. “It's a rattler.”

  The black one drew his weapon and spun around. “Where?”

  The rattler faded away.

  “He was just there.” I waved a hand toward the clay ground.

  “Jesus Christ!” The black one holstered his gun. “What the hell's wrong with him, Bat?”

  Bat reached into a black bag by his side and took out a plastic package of liquid.

  “Is that water?” I asked. “Can I have a drink?”

  “Chancey,” Bat said, “why do y'all listen to him? He's delirious.”

  “I figure it's his natural state,” Chancey said.

  Chancey…the name sounded familiar.

  “No matter what backwater fucking rock we land on,” Chancey said, “we always end living in a goddamn cave!” He kicked a rock. It bounced off the wall. “With spiders and flying roaches, and God knows what else!”

  A frightened rodent scurried along the wall and out of the cave. “And rats!” He kicked another rock.

  Bat shook his head as he unwrapped a tube from the bag. “What's your name?” he asked me. “Do you remember? Tell me your name.”

  “It's…uh –” I tried to think. “Oh. Bubba.”

  “His name is Jules,” the furry tag said.

  Bat shook his head, sat back, and rubbed his eyes. “Chancey.”

  “C'mon, fur ball,” Chancey said, “let's go take a hike.”

  The furry one dropped to all fours as they headed toward the entrance. “Do you hike well on just two legs?”

  They went through the opening and I didn't hear Chancey's answer.

  “What's your last name?” Bat asked me.

  “Why do you want to know?” I tried to sit up and felt stabbing pains in my back. “My back is ripping apart!”

  “Give it a few minutes.” He pushed me down by my shoulders.

  I watched through a blur as he hooked the bag to a jagged break in the thick clay wall. “Are you one of Late's slackeys?” I asked.

  “My name is Bat,” he told me, “and this is Joe.”

  “Where's Dannie?” I demanded.

  “Delirium can make a person combative,” Bat told Joe."

  “At least this time,” Joe said, “he's got an excuse.”

  “We don't know where he is, Jules,” Bat answered. “Who's Dannie?”

  “You mean she's a boy? I gave her my sweater,” I mumbled. “She didn't come back.” I began t
o cry and couldn't stop. “They took her to a nunnery.” My back was sealing itself off from the pain. I sighed, lowered my head and began to drift into sleep.

  “You think he'll be all right?” I heard Joe ask.

  “We'll know better by tomorrow.” Bat answered. “The antibiotics will do their work.”

  I jumped when I felt him probe my arm, and lifted my head. “What're you think you're doing?”

  “Nothing. Close your eyes,” Bat said. “He hates shots, Joe.”

  “I know,” Joe answered. “He'd rather die instead.”

  “Get away from me with that,” I told Bat as he pulled the sheath off a needle on the tube.

  “I'm sorry, Jules, but it's got to be. Joe?”

  Joe took my wrist and held it down.

  “Let go of my arm,” I demanded. “I refuse treatment.”

  But they didn't. Joe turned my head away from seeing the needle and held it there. I heaved as I felt the needle slide into my arm. The walls began to turn.

  “Don't pass out on me, Bubba,” Bat said. “Take deep breaths.”

  I did, and the walls steadied. “Can I have some water now?” I rasped.

  “Oh, sure,” Bat got up and went for it.

  I reached for the tube to pull it out, but Joe grabbed my wrist.

  Bat brought me the canteen and I drank.

  “Look what I found sneaking around outside,” I heard Chancey say as he and the fluffy one entered the cave. Chancey gripped the arm of a very pretty woman in gray pants and a white blouse.

  “I wasn't sneaking around,” she said. “I was looking for the entrance. Oh, Jules!” She broke his grip, ran to me and knelt by my side. “I thought you were dead!” She kissed me and got her arms around my neck.

  “Are you Dannie?” Joe asked her.

  “No. Sophia.” She stroked my cheek and brushed hair off my forehead. “How are you, baby?”

  I nodded. “Pretty good. Who are you?”

  “Sophia!” she said. “Don't you remember me?”

  I shook my head. Then vague memories of this woman in my arms began to form.

  “Dannie, Sophia,” Chancey said. “How does he do it?” he asked Joe.

  Joe slid him a look. “He's adorable.”

  Bat stood up and watched Sophia hug me. “Well, this should keep him awake.”

  “It's keeping me awake,” Chancey said.