Priestess of the Eggstone

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Priestess of the Eggstone Page 2

by Jaleta Clegg


  The engines purred, a subliminal vibration. Air hissed through the filters. I relaxed in my seat. I was back in space, where I belonged.

  “What are we carrying?” Jerimon asked after a while.

  “Some kind of computer control. As long as the seals on the crates are intact when we land, I don’t much care. We only get paid if they arrive untampered.” I checked the scans again then made a slight correction to our course. “Do you mind if I ask why you chose Rucal to end your contract?”

  “I was doing piece work, flying whatever, wherever for a couple of weeks, looking for something more permanent.” He adjusted the shield levels. The viewscreen crackled with dust.

  “Are you moving on at Tebros?”

  He shrugged. “Depends. Are you going to kick me off?”

  “Depends. Do you snore?”

  “Not that anyone’s ever complained about.”

  “Then I probably won’t.” Maybe I was being too cautious. “Why don’t you have a home planet listed in your file?”

  “I was born in space. I’ve never found a planet I wanted to claim. What about you? Where are you from?”

  “How easy is it to remove or change your planet of origin? I don’t want to claim the one I was born on.”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never tried. What planet was that?”

  “Tivor.”

  He stared blankly. “Never heard of it.”

  “I wish I hadn’t.”

  “Why not? What can be so bad about it?” He sounded as if he really had no idea.

  “You never heard of the food riots? Tivor’s government runs everything on Tivor.” They’d tried to make me a model citizen and I hadn’t cooperated. Tivor wanted its women quiet, docile, and obedient. Life hadn’t been easy or fair on Tivor. I didn’t want to discuss my personal hangups with a man I barely knew. I switched subjects.

  We discussed politics while we dodged asteroids and watched dust flash against the shields. The shield indicators flickered yellow a few times, but mostly stayed green. Belliff didn’t stint on their equipment. Jerimon relaxed the farther we strayed from personal topics. I thought it odd but not worrisome.

  We rounded the last big moon into clear space. I checked the nav program one last time, to make sure we were headed in the right direction before we jumped. The chatter of local pilots was steady as a background noise that dissolved into static as we passed into the moon’s shadow. The ship lurched, then slowed, the engines whining.

  I flipped switches, trying to find the problem. Jerimon pushed the thrusters all the way to the stops. The engine whine rose in pitch. The ship shuddered. The emergency lights flashed. Warnings hooted through the ship.

  “Shut it down!” I yelled over the noise.

  Jerimon stubbornly tried to pull more power from the engines. His face was pale and his chin set as he goosed the throttles. I reached across the controls to slam the switches off. Jerimon slumped in his chair, hands over his face. The engines spun down. The alarms shut up, all except one. It was a quiet, insistent beeping with a single, flashing red light.

  I checked the screen, then muttered a bad word at the unknown vessel showing on the scans. “Who’d be using a tractor beam out here?”

  The ship was bigger, but that didn’t mean much. Anything was bigger than my ship. The scanners didn’t show any ID traces from the other ship.

  “Does it look like pirates to you?” Pirates weren’t uncommon in this sector but Rucal had a major Patrol station out beyond the moons. What pirate would be stupid enough to operate under the Patrol’s nose?

  I knew of at least one, but he was in prison. I scowled at the screen. In a few moments, I wouldn’t need the scanner. I could just look outside.

  Jerimon dropped his hands to his lap, staring bleakly at the monitor. If he didn’t know who was on that ship, I’d eat my socks—the ones I’d been wearing for three days without washing because I hadn’t found the time.

  “Who are they and why are they dragging us in?”

  Jerimon shook his head, eyes locked on the approaching ship. He gripped the chair so hard his knuckles went white.

  A grappling arm locked onto the metal hull with a loud clank.

  I had a blaster somewhere in my gear. It wasn’t technically legal but after what I’d been through on Dadilan, I felt much better with one somewhere close. I tore off my restraints then scrambled out of the cockpit.

  I slammed open the locker, digging through the jumbled contents. I burrowed frantically, tossing clothes onto the floor. The air lock hissed open. I reached the bottom but still hadn’t found my blaster. I grabbed a tunic, shaking it out before shoving it back inside.

  Boots clomped on the deck. I stood, leaving the locker hanging open, my clothes still strewn over the floor. Jerimon waited in the doorway to the cockpit, his face pale. I stood between him and the airlock. I turned slowly.

  Five non-humans edged into the ship. The shortest one stood seven feet and a bit. They were reptilian, their skin gray-green and lightly scaled. Crests of spines rose erect across their heads and down the back of their necks. Their yellow eyes narrowed in the white lights of the cabin. They had no visible ears, their noses were almost nonexistent.

  The one in front raised an elongated, bony hand and pointed. It wore a garishly bright scarlet tunic; the others wore black with a weird emblem worked in gold on the left shoulder. “Where is it? What have you done with it, human?”

  Jerimon swallowed hard, clinging to the doorframe as if it were a lifeline. It was obvious he knew what these creatures wanted. I was going to beat the information out of him as soon as I got rid of them.

  I turned on the leader, planting my hands on my hips. The creature loomed, the spines of its crest almost brushing the ceiling. I refused to let it intimidate me. “What do you want on this ship? You are in violation of all free trade regulations.”

  “Silence!” The leader dismissed me, raising his slit-pupiled glare to Jerimon. “Where is the Eggstone?”

  “I don’t know.” Jerimon’s voice cracked with strain.

  “Perhaps this will sharpen your memory.” The creature’s hand shot forward, bony claws digging into my shoulder. It pulled me close, forcing my face into its tunic. I struggled but the lizard-creature was too strong. It smelled odd, a weird mix of sharp plant and musty animal. The claws twitched once, digging furrows through my shoulder.

  “She has nothing to do with this. Let her go.” Jerimon took one step forward.

  I had to give him points for chivalry, but it was too little too late. I twisted my head to the side, sneezing at the scent. I pushed against its torso, fighting for my space.

  The creature flexed its claws. “She is with you. Return the Eggstone to us.”

  “I can’t.” Jerimon ducked his head. “I sold it.”

  The claws jerked closed. I stifled a moan as blood dripped down my shoulder.

  “You defile our sacred place and steal the Eggstone, only to sell it as a common thing?”

  The creature’s smell sharpened. The claws flexed again. This time I couldn’t keep the moan in. Red splotched the front of my shipsuit.

  “You shall return the Eggstone or you shall face the altar of Sekkitass. This shall remind you.” The claws shredded my shoulder.

  Needles of hot fire lanced through skin and muscle, clear to the bone. I crumpled to the floor when it released me. White hot sheets of pain spread from my shoulder followed by a strange numbness.

  The creature turned its back, its companions already entering the airlock.

  “Sessimoniss!” Jerimon dropped to the deck beside me. “Give me the antidote.”

  “She will not die. She has but tasted of the poison. Return the Eggstone.”

  I heard the airlock hiss shut through ears that rang and buzzed. My eyes would no longer focus. Jerimon’s face loomed over me, his forehead creased with worry. Waves of ice and fire swept through my body.

  “Blast it!” I hated Jerimon. I’d been suckered again, hiring a troub
lemaker. I struggled to curl one hand into a fist.

  Jerimon touched the bloody mess of my shoulder. The pain reached a new level of agony and I passed out.

  Chapter Two

  I spent most of the next few days drifting through hallucinations, talking to people I knew couldn’t be there. Miss Hadley, the orphanage director from Tivor, kept appearing, telling me all of this was my fault because I’d neglected oral hygiene. I had some bad moments when I thought I was back on Dadilan. The few lucid minutes I had were full of Jerimon’s worried expression.

  He had the most incredible blue eyes; the deep, vivid blue of skystones. Every few years one or two skystones would appear on the market, cut and polished. Rumor had it they came from deep space outside of the Empire. It was a trader’s dream to find their source, although nobody I’d ever talked to knew what they looked like uncut. The traders that brought them to market refused to say anything.

  The engine changed pitch, dragging me from a strange dream full of blue eyes and lectures on oral hygiene and horses. The ship slid out of hyperspace. I was limp as a wet rag, drained of energy. My shoulder ached ferociously. The ship settled into sublight, the engines shifting to a different rhythm. I struggled to lift my head.

  “Where are we?”

  Jerimon emerged from the cockpit. “Good, you’re awake,” he said as he fished a juice container from the dispenser. “We’re on approach to Tebros.” He popped the top off the container , offering it to me.

  I tried to sit. I was too weak and dizzy. Jerimon slipped his arm around my shoulders and lifted me, careful of the wad of bandages coating my shoulder. He steadied the container in my shaky grip. I hated being so helpless. I pushed the empty cup away irritably then sagged onto the bunk. Jerimon stepped back, shoving the cup into the disposal.

  “I think you owe me an explanation.” I shifted, easing the itching under the bandage. Jerimon hunched his shoulders. “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said you had a bad case of spacer’s flu.”

  I shook my head then wished I hadn’t. The cabin faded to gray and black. I passed out before I heard his answer.

  When I woke again the engines were off and Jerimon was gone. I dragged myself out of the bunk to the facilities, using walls and furniture to keep me upright. I managed to shower without passing out. It took me five tries to finally open my locker to retrieve clean clothes. I didn’t have the energy to peel the bandages off and check my shoulder. I had just enough to fall on the bunk and back asleep.

  I woke again when Jerimon came in. He carried a stack of thin boxes, each sealed with the Belliff stamp. He passed me as he moved to stow them in the cargo bay.

  “Did you get signatures on the other boxes?” I asked when he came back.

  “Yes, I got all the signatures, I have the right papers. They seemed so happy to get the delivery that they even paid me.” He waved a plastic chit in front of my face. “The only problem is it’s in your name. I can’t touch any of it and there are people in the dock offices asking for their fees.”

  I groaned. This was something I had to deal with. Fortunately I could manage it from the ship. I tried to get off the bunk. I fell on the floor.

  “Help me get to the com,” I demanded irritably. My legs were rubber. I couldn’t seem to find the right orientation either. Up wavered depending on how my head was spinning.

  Jerimon slung my good arm around his shoulder and helped me to the com unit. I sprawled over the chair, waiting for my head to quit insisting that up was somewhere on the wall. I thumbed the numbers into the unit, transferring half the funds into a joint account stored in the ship’s memory banks. The other half stayed on the chit which went into my private safe. Jerimon should have access to plenty of money for things we needed that Belliff didn’t provide as part of the contract.

  I put a call in to their offices next.

  It took me ten minutes to get past all the secretaries and talk to the person who actually had authority. The woman kept typing while she talked, not even glancing at the vidscreen.

  “Captain Dace, is it? I heard you had some kind of accident. Your copilot was here with the packages. Very competent young man. What is it you needed to talk to me about?” She glanced up from her work. She frowned. “I don’t have time for prank calls. I thought I was speaking to your captain, not some junior assistant.” She reached for the cutoff switch.

  “I am Captain Dace,” I said. “I’m calling about our contract.”

  “What about it?” Her frown deepened.

  I gripped the chair arms, I was going to fall out of the chair any moment. My head spun and I had to concentrate to find words. “Part of the arrangement was Belliff paying the docking fees. Why are they bothering me to pay them?”

  “They have been paid.” She snapped off the unit. I slowly slid from the chair. Jerimon caught me just before my face hit the control panel.

  He dragged me over to the bunk.

  “Don’t pay for anything, except food,” I managed to say through the multicolored haze that tried to suck my brain away. Jerimon’s face loomed over me, his blue eyes bright. “Belliff is supposed to pay everything else. Am I dying?”

  “You’re getting better.” He tugged at the bandages on my shoulder.

  I didn’t object. I had no energy to care. My eyes slid shut.

  I slept through takeoff and the jump into hyperspace. When I regained consciousness, the engines vibrated gently through the cabin walls. I made it to the facilities without having to catch myself.

  Jerimon was sitting at the galley table when I came out, rolling a drink container from hand to hand. He looked tired. I collapsed into the chair across from him. He didn’t look up from the drink container.

  “Is there anything to eat?” I was suddenly starving.

  Jerimon punched buttons on the dispenser. We sat without speaking, waiting for the machine. We both jumped when it beeped, loud in the strained silence. Jerimon slid the tray onto the table. “How are you feeling?” He wouldn’t meet my gaze.

  “Better. Do you want to explain?”

  “We’re on our way to Viya with another delivery.”

  “That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

  He flinched and took a deep breath.

  “The truth, Jerimon. Now. Spill it.”

  He sighed and ran his hand through his black hair. “I was hired as a pilot for a group of xenobiologists. They wanted to explore old ruins on the frontier where some Sshoria artifacts were found. They spent hours debating whether the ruins were human in origin or not. I was interested so I listened to their arguments. That’s the only reason I know about any of it. When we landed, I didn’t have much to do so I explored. On the last world, I don’t even remember its name, I found buildings that were almost completely intact.

  “I found a stone about the size of an egg and shaped like one, just lying on a table in one room. It was black, smooth and glossy. I thought it would make a good souvenir. It was just a rock, nothing important.” He crumpled the cup. “The ship started following us three days after we left the planet. They showed up wherever we went, almost as if they were tracking us through hyperspace. They kept their distance, made the captain very nervous. Then they started harassing us, demanding that we return what we had stolen.”

  He stopped talking, fidgeting with the dispenser knobs instead.

  “Go on.”

  “They were Sessimoniss, not human. The xeno experts thought it proved the ruins were not human. The captain and everyone else assumed the Sessimoniss wanted artifacts that had been excavated, jewelry and bones and such. They offered to return them. The Sessimoniss called them garbage and kept insisting we had stolen something very important to them.

  “When they called it the Eggstone I realized they were talking about the rock I’d taken. By that time, they were shooting. The captain got stubborn and went to report the whole mess to the Patrol. When we landed, my contract was up for renewal. Nobody thought anything about me leaving. I walked out and
signed up on a temporary pilot job.”

  “Why didn’t you just give the stone back?”

  He shrugged. “I really don’t know. I figured they wouldn’t bother me anymore. I thought if I took enough jobs I could lose them. I just couldn’t seem to make myself give it up.”

  “So where is it now?”

  “I sold it, five planets ago. They were trying to kill me, hunting me down and showing up when I least expected them. I found some guy who dealt with stolen objects and sold it to him. I thought the Sessimoniss would quit following me then, that I was clear of them.” He looked across the table. Every pore oozed sincerity. “I’m sorry, Dace. I never thought they would attack you. I thought they were only after me.”

  I rubbed my face. I could always dump him on the next planet. “Tell me everything about these Sessimoniss. And don’t leave anything out.”

  “I don’t know much, just what I overheard. Nobody seems to know much about them. They come from somewhere in the Porlan Cloud, show up every year or so to trade. I swear I didn’t know about the poison.”

  I shifted in my chair, trying to ease the aching itch in my shoulder.

  Jerimon twisted the crumpled cup into a wad of paper. “When we land, I’m going straight to the Patrol. They’ll straighten it out somehow.”

  “You have a lot of faith in the Patrol.”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  “You think the Sessimoniss will listen to the Patrol? Just like they listened to you at Rucal? We’re both in this, deep, whether you like it or not.” I shoved my empty tray into the disposal slot.

  “But if I go, the Sessimoniss will leave you alone.”

  “Do you have that in writing? What happened to the other ships they shot at?”

 

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