by Justin Sloan
“You’d have a problem with that?”
“Hell, no.” Robin pursed her lips, eyes narrowed. “You know I’m with you, Val. Anything you say—as long as it’s not ass-backwards craziness—you can count on me. But I know that we’re part of something bigger out here, and feel I should be the voice of reason when necessary.”
Valerie had to really work to not raise her voice as she hissed, “You’re saying I don’t make sense?” Instead of waiting for a response, she added, “Listen, if it comes to it we’ll get ahold of TH. Clear it with the Federation first. All right?”
Robin nodded, then glanced behind them. “What do you say we get out of here? They saw us, so they know we attended.”
As far as Valerie was concerned they never should have come, and now she couldn’t leave fast enough.
They made their way through the intricate halls of this building, so much the opposite of what they had seen in the areas where most of the people of Tol lived. Intense metal carvings, focused on jagged edges and pyramid shapes, lined the walls. Lights hung from the ceilings, glowing in a way that better represented natural light, something lights back on Earth had never gotten quite right.
Neither spoke until they were outside and moving through the gardens, which contained tall spires and angular sculptures again, interspersed with flowers that resembled dragons’ mouths and lions with their manes.
“How can such a horrible place be so beautiful?” Robin asked.
“It was disgusting,” Valerie agreed, nodding.
“Not so unlike our older civilizations, though,” Robin stated.
“Excuse me?”
“I read a thing or two.” She shrugged. “I mean, when I found those old books in Toronto, I insisted my parents bring them to New York. What do you think I did all that time?”
“Train to fight, like me?”
Robin laughed, though it was less about mirth and more to do with what seemed right at the moment. “No, I was reading. The…ancient Serbians, I think it was? Stories about how they would do terrible things to their enemies after capturing them. When the Persians defeated them, in many ways they were viewed as liberators coming in to stop those horrific acts. Many others saw them in a similar way, but they didn’t know how that worked relative to what had come before.”
“You’re saying we’re not so different from these people?”
She shrugged. “I saw enough on Earth to not argue with that statement, but no. What I was saying was that we’d be like the Persians. We might have to do some bad things to take out the current leadership, make a change here, but it’s all relative.”
“Sure.” Valerie nodded, glancing back to ensure nobody was watching or listening. “You can bet we won’t be sawing off people’s heads in front of their families.”
They made their way out of the city to the spot where they had left the Grandeur, and were glad to find that Garcia and Flynn had taken care of themselves as far as food was concerned.
They had even found some ground meat snacks wrapped in pink leaves, which Valerie thought she might try later.
“Are you in?” Flynn asked.
“In like Flynn,” Valerie replied, then held up a hand. “I know, I know. Making stupid jokes to compensate for having to watch a man’s head being removed from his body.”
Garcia shook his head. “It’s the same everywhere, isn’t it? Fight the crazies back home, fight the crazies out here. It never stops.”
“Except that,” Robin glanced at the ceiling of the ship as though looking at all of space, “out here there’re about a quajillion more beings, and therefore a much greater likelihood of there being even more crazies.”
“Ever wonder if it’s actually we who are the crazy ones?” Flynn asked. “I mean, who the fuck goes to some alien planet and tries to get themselves thrown into a death competition?”
“I can’t tell if you’re being a dick, or…” Valerie eyed him, then chuckled, and he laughed. “That’s what I thought. Are we crazy? Damn straight! But crazy in a good way, not crazy in a ‘I’m gonna piss in your skull’ way.”
“Ick! If we meet any of those, please let me know so I can run the other way.”
“Will do,” she agreed.
“So what’s the plan, then?” Garcia asked. “From here, what’s the strategy?”
“Learn what you can without drawing too much attention to yourselves,” Valerie replied. “Has anyone given you a hard time so far?”
Garcia shook his head.
“It’s like they’re so used to weird aliens showing up,” Flynn chimed in, “that we’re just one more oddity. Since everyone’s strange, strange is normal.”
“Good. Keep your ears open, and I don’t just mean about the fight system. I mean about society. I’ve been hearing things, observing the way the lower classes look at the elites. Something’s up.”
“And us?” Robin asked, her eyelids heavy.
“You look about as beat as I feel,” Valerie replied honestly. “We might not need as much sleep as we used to, but we still need to rest occasionally. Get some sleep if you can, or simply close your eyes if not. The body needs it.”
“Roger that,” Robin said, with the first genuine smile that day. “Roger-the-fuck that.”
She staggered off to follow her orders.
“You two managed to rest, I take it?” Valerie asked the other two.
“We got back early, had a romantic picnic, and slept together,” Garcia said with a wink to Flynn.
“That’s not… He didn’t mean that.” Flynn flushed. “Listen, I would never—”
“You got something against Garcia here, or the idea of stuff like that in general?” Valerie raised her eyebrows, waiting.
“I-I don’t think it’d be smart of me to answer that,” Flynn replied.
“Clever man,” she replied. “All right, as long as you two rested, I don’t care if you spooned or—”
“Ack, we didn’t!” Flynn stood tall, the vein in his neck bulging.
Both Garcia and Valerie burst into laughter.
“Listen, buddy,” Garcia said. “She knows I’m joking. Lighten up.”
Flynn frowned, then leaned back and attempted to put on his best smile. “Yeah, I knew that. Me too.”
“Sure you did.”
“You two take watch, then,” Valerie said, heading out to get some rest too. “Anything fishy, wake me.”
She found her bunk and curled up on her side, glancing at Robin to see if she had already passed out. Probably happened as soon as her head hit the pillow. The woman’s lower lip stuck out in a cute way when she slept, and Valerie felt she could lie there for hours staring at it.
But that wasn’t hers to do, not anymore. Here it was about being professional, not letting silly things like emotions get in the way of her duty. Maybe someday, when this war was over and Earth was safe… Maybe then she could explore that path again.
Still, those thoughts couldn’t keep out the memories that flooded into her mind as she drifted off to sleep. That day on the airship at Slaver’s Peak when they had freed a group of slaves and were off to Toro to rescue Robin’s parents…that was the last time they had been romantic. The last time she remembered feeling those soft lips against hers, Robin’s warm breath in her ear when the woman had moved to kiss her neck but paused to shudder with anticipation.
It was with those thoughts of a time with a different Robin—the same physical woman, and yet everything between them changed—that Valerie found herself drifting off to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Swarthian Extended Detention Environment (SEDE)
Kalan woke up early, strangely refreshed after a night in his childhood cot. He tried to push away thoughts of the things he needed to do that day. Break into the most secure wing of the prison, get a political prisoner out, find a way off this ship… It was best not to think about that. Not yet.
For now, Kalan wanted to enjoy being in his childhood apartment and seeing his mother.
“Morning,” Kalan said. “How’d you sleep?”
Bob scowled. “Between your snoring, the constant shouts and screams coming from the other cells, and this rock-hard cot? Not great. Not great at all.”
Kalan raised his arms and stretched, his shoulders cracking as he worked the stiffness from them. “We prefer to call them apartments, not cells.”
“Whatever!” Bob said. “All I know is, I’m glad I only have to spend one night here.”
“Assuming we don’t get caught,” Kalan pointed out.
He stood up and walked to the sink, and splashed a little water on his face. The previous evening had been a whirlwind reunion with his mother. Her reaction upon seeing him had been a strange combination of shock, delight, and horror. Her understandable first assumption had been that he had been arrested and convicted, but once he’d alleviated that fear she had been much more excited to see him.
She’d still given him a hell of a time for being stupid enough to come back voluntarily.
Much to Kalan’s surprise, Bob and his mother had gotten along quite well. They’d even ganged up on him a little, teasing him about his serious nature.
All these thoughts were running through Kalan’s head when he heard the yelling from outside.
“Grayhewn!”
A feeling of dread crept into Kalan’s stomach. He recognized that voice, and it represented a problem he did not need this morning.
“Grayhewn!” the familiar voice called again. “I know you’re hiding behind your mama in there. Come out and face me or we’ll come in after you.”
Kalan patted his face with a towel and sighed. It appeared there would be no getting around this.
He turned to find Bob staring out the window with a look of horror on his face. “What the hell is that thing?”
Kalan’s mother Gara answered from the doorway. “It’s a walking, talking piece of shit named Zoras, and he controls the black market in this cellblock. Kalan was dumb enough to piss him off the day before he got out.”
Bob glanced at Kalan. “What possessed you to do that?”
Kalan peered through the hole that served as a window, confirming that Zoras was just as ugly as he remembered. “He punched a friend of mine in the face. I punched back.”
“He doesn’t take kindly to that sort of thing,” Gara explained.
Kalan looked at her again, unable to keep the smile off his face at the sight of her. She was taller than he was, but lean and muscular. She bore a few lines around her eyes, but other than that she didn’t look a bit different than she had five years ago. That she’d managed to survive in this crowded, dangerous co-ed prison while so many of her fellow prisoners had not was a testament to both her brilliance and her grit.
“Well, I guess I’d better go beat him up again,” Kalan said wearily.
“Have fun, dear,” Gara said, a twinkle in her eye.
“Thanks, Ma.” He paused beside the cot to consider the Tralen-14, but he left it where it lay. The Shimmers didn’t much care if prisoners beat the shit out of each other or smuggled in contraband, but guns were where they drew the line. Using the Tralen would be a surefire way to attract their attention.
“You want me to come with you?” From the tone of Bob’s voice, it was clear he was only asking to be polite.
“Nah, I got this.”
Kalan stepped out of the apartment and onto what the prisoners called “the street.” When SEDE was constructed, each cellblock had been intended to look like its own little town. The cells had walk-up stoops to make them resemble the luxury apartments on the Skulla planet Stais, and the walkway between the cells was concrete painted to look like cobblestone.
Over the years the place had fallen into disrepair, and the governments behind SEDE weren’t about to put up the necessary funds to maintain the facade of a city. Now the cell blocks looked more like a town a hundred years after an apocalyptic event.
Zoras stood in the center of the street glaring up at Gara’s home. Kalan carefully made his way down the broken stairs.
“Hello, Zoras. How’ve you been?”
Zoras was a modified Skulla, the product of one of the Bandian’s many genetic experiments. He stood no taller than the average Skulla, but he was so muscular that he was nearly as wide as he was tall. It made him quite strange to behold.
“Grayhewn, seeing you back aboard has made my day,” he said with a smile. “My week, even! I’m going to make your life a living hell. What’d they get you for?”
“Clobbering guys who yelled at my mom’s house first thing in the morning.”
Zoras scowled. “That’s how it’s going to be?”
Kalan shrugged. “I’m on a tight schedule, so if you want to get your revenge or something it’s now or never. Or, we could forget the past and move on with our lives. Your call.”
Zoras clearly didn’t know how to respond to that. He stared blankly at Kalan for a long moment.
A Pallicon shouted through a window, “Kill him, Zoras!”
That was all the encouragement the Skulla needed. In one motion he crouched and launched himself at Kalan.
It was like a massive spring uncoiling. The Skulla flew at Kalan with such speed and force that the Grayhewn had no chance of dodging the assault. Zoras slammed into him and wrapped his arms around Kalan’s body, knocking him to the ground.
The Skulla then sat on Kalan’s chest, crushing him and making it difficult to breathe. Pinning Kalan’s arms down with his knees, Zoras drew back his fist and punched Kalan in the temple.
It was like getting hit by a falling tree; the world swam in front of Kalan’s eyes. He knew he couldn’t take many more hits like that.
Thankfully, like all of the Bandian’s failed genetic experiments Zoras had a weakness. His body was covered with impossibly thick muscle, but his head—that was standard-issue.
Kalan squirmed, making it appear like he was trying to free his right arm. When Zoras shifted his weight slightly to put more pressure on it, Kalan pulled hard with his left.
Just as he’d hoped, the arm popped out from under Zoras’ knee.
He threw a quick jab at Zoras’ nose, and then another, and a third. He continued pummeling the Skulla’s head and face, throwing punches so fast that Zoras wasn’t able to do much other than rock back in pain with each hit.
Finally Kalan gave a mighty heave and rolled the big Skulla off him.
Without giving him time to recover, he pounced and rained blows on him with both hands.
When Zoras stopped struggling to get out from under him Kalan knew the fight was over. He got up and brushed himself off.
“Pleasure as always.” He started to walk away, but Zoras spoke.
“Kill you… Get my friends… Watch your back, Grayhewn. We’ll kill you.” His words were a bit garbled due to his busted lips, but Kalan had no trouble understanding the message.
“Yeah, well, you’ll have to find me first.” He sneered and walked back into his mother’s apartment.
Gara and Bob had watched through the window. The human smiled widely and pumped his fist as Kalan entered, but Gara shook her head, a slight smile on her face.
“Sorry, Mom. I hope I didn’t cause trouble for you.”
Gara shrugged. “No more than I’m used to.”
Bob frowned. “Wait, is that guy going to come after you?”
“Probably,” the female answered. “I’m not worried, though.”
“You’re not?”
Kalan chuckled. “Who do you think taught me to fight?”
Gara’s expression turned serious. “I think it’s time for the two of you to get going. There’s a chance Zoras’ gang will try to retaliate. I doubt they’d make a serious move against me, but you…”
“Yeah,” Kalan said with a sigh. “I suppose so, but I wish we could spen
d more time together.” He felt a pang of sadness as he spoke. What neither of them was saying—what neither would say—was that in all likelihood this would be goodbye forever.
He consoled himself with the knowledge that they’d been through a long goodbye once already. They’d never expected to see each other again, so this visit was an unexpected gift.
His mother touched his arm. “There’s so much I need to tell you—things I probably should have told you long ago—but things have changed now and I don’t know how to—”
“You don’t have to, Ma.”
“I do.” She slipped something into his hand. “Read this when you get out of here.”
He looked at the microchip in his hand. “What’s on this?”
“There’s no time to explain it now. Just watch. Later.” She paused for a moment as if there were more she wanted to say, but then she set her jaw.
“Thanks, Ma,” Kalan said. “I, um, left something for you by the cot I slept in last night. I thought it might come in handy.”
She nodded, curious but not wanting to get into a discussion on another topic. It was clear she wanted to rip off this bandage, painful as that might be. “I got up while you boys were still sleeping and talked to Etter, the Pallicon who lives at the upper end of the block. He delivers food to the isolation block.”
“He thinks he can get us in?” Kalan asked.
“Sure. In is not a problem.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s getting out that’s the issue,” Bob said. “I keep hearing that.”
“That’s because it’s true. Now get going—you have work to do.”
Planet Tol: The Singlaxian Grandeur
When Valerie woke she glanced at Robin’s bed, which was freshly made. A bite of her lip brought back the memories she had fallen to sleep to, and she felt a pang of guilt. Robin was her friend, a fellow soldier in this fight against the evil of the universe. She couldn’t keep thinking of her in that other way.
Throwing her legs over the side of the bunk, she lingered for a moment to clear her thoughts and focus on the day’s goal. She had found that the best way to enter a fight was with a clear head. If she could imagine herself landing a roundhouse kick, each step and movement clear in her head, then the actions would later come as instinct. At this point they were instinct without a doubt, but distracting thoughts could be a major hindrance.