The Alien Traitor

by Delia Roan

  Mel exhaled as the female Ennoi guard dipped her head in acknowledgment toward her. “We mean you no harm.” She kept her voice low.

  Mel nodded back. “I just want to help the kids,” she whispered.

  The woman’s face tightened. “You should leave this place. Now.”

  It was good advice. “I can’t. Not yet.”

  For a moment, the Ennoi studied her. “I understand,” she said finally. “Understand that we have already done too much. We cannot aid you further.” The guard left without looking back, hurrying to rejoin her companions.

  Guess Dogan doesn’t inspire loyalty.

  Mel kept moving, staying low to the ground, working her way to the center of the space in a roundabout route to keep herself hidden behind the bulk of the ships. Each was large as a bungalow, but the wide gaps at the bottom meant she would be easily spotted if any enemies were at eye level.

  A deep roar ripped through the spaceport. It was a sound of pure rage. Even with the open air, it seemed to echo. The sound was followed by a second roar, this one pitched higher.

  What the heck is that? Mel shivered. And why are there two of them?

  A crash made her jump, and Mel raced around the corner in time to see a giant beast slam into a nearby ship. She blinked in surprise. The creature was massive, muscled and mean. Spikes ran from the tip of its snout, down its long neck, across its broad back and to the tip of its tail. Heavy scales covered its body in an impenetrable armor. Scales swirled in a familiar cinnamon and tan color scheme.

  Jahle? But- No. It… It can’t be.

  Yet she knew it was. She knew it with a certainty that burned deep inside her. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know why, but she knew it was him. When the creature – Jahle – rolled to his feet and turned his ruby eyes toward the side, Mel had confirmation.

  It is him!

  A second creature, this one even more muscled and squat, came charging out from between two ships. It bore the burnt umber and red stripes of Dogan. Dogan plowed into Jahle, his teeth flashing. Jahle snapped back, raking his claws across his brother’s chest. Mel hissed. Dogan was aiming for killing blows, but she could tell Jahle was holding back.

  “Fight, you dumbass,” she muttered, knowing he would never hear her over the roars and grunts of the fighters.

  Worry about your dragon boyfriend later. Find the kids.

  Grateful for the distraction, she darted into the clearing between the ships. The two titans were locked in a wrestling match and wouldn’t notice her. She spotted the children huddling under a ship. The oldest looked up at her approach. He pushed the younger ones behind him.

  “You’re Zayef and Ketug’s kid, right?” she asked, crouching down.

  The boy nodded. “Eien.”

  “Where are your parents? Olex?”

  Eien’s lips thinned, but he shook his head. “They did not make it.”

  Mel sat back. “I-I’m sorry. They were good people.”

  The boy nodded and while his eyes grew watery, the suspicion on his face did not abate.

  Jahle slammed into a ship nearby, making the littlest Ennoi shriek. Mel reached out her hand. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”

  For a second, Eien hesitated. “Where will we go?”

  The simplicity of the question broke Mel’s heart. “We’ll find somewhere. Somewhere safe.” When Dogan and Jahle reengaged on their left, she gestured under the ship. “Let’s go that way.”

  Eien hugged the Ennoi children and then sent them under one by one. Mel followed last.

  “What about the guards?” Eien asked. “They were told to kill us if we tried to escape.”

  That bastard Dogan deserves a sharp kick to the balls.

  “They won’t bother us,” she said. “We need to find a functioning ship.”

  She led the children away from the fight, heading toward the wall where she and Jahle had first emerged. The door wouldn’t open on the first ship they tried, but the second one opened with a groan. Mel hurried the children on board, but left the door open.

  In the cockpit, she tried to remember what Jahle had done. But the levers, dials and buttons on the console seemed overwhelming suddenly. Her hands hovered over the controls in indecision. “Oh, man, I can’t even handle the copier at work. How the heck does this thing work?”

  Eien reached out and flicked a switch. The console hummed to life.

  She blinked at him. “How did you do that?”

  “I want to be a pilot.” He ducked his head. “Someday.”

  She clapped his shoulder. “Okay, buddy. You wait for this ship to boot up. Then get the heck out of here. Got it?”

  His face blanched, and his eyes flicked to the gaunt faces behind him, but he nodded. “I understand.”

  Mel gave the children one last wave, and then headed back outside, to where the battle continued to rage. The brothers wove around each other, snapping and vying for a lethal opening. Blood flowed from Jahle’s muzzle and shoulder, and he limped heavily. A wide gash marred Dogan’s side, but he did not seem to be slowed down by his injury.

  If Jahle is going to be a dumbass about his brother, he’s going to need help.

  But what could she do? Even without a fever, she was fragile and squishy and it would take one snap of Dogan’s jaws to end her.

  What I need is firepower.

  Big-ass, bad-ass firepower.

  She took a steadying breath as her plan solidified.

  “You’re insane, Melissa Harlock,” she muttered. “When you get back to Earth, you better go check yourself into one of those loony bins Jen went to.”

  Gripping the sonar evaluator, she staggered her way to the access tunnel she and Jahle had used to enter the spaceport platform. She peered into the darkness and gathered her courage.

  She ran down the tunnel, sacrificing steadiness for speed. If she tripped in the darkness, she might break an ankle. If she didn’t hurry, Jahle might die. She ignored the sharp pain in her chest with every breath.

  Retracing her steps, she easily found the borebug tunnel. Her lamp light landed on its shiny carapace.

  “Here goes nothing,” she murmured. Her heart thundered as she bent down and picked up a nearby rock. With all her strength, she threw it at the borebug. It bounced off the bug’s hard shell.

  The bug didn’t move.

  “Hey!” she yelled. She threw a second rock, this time harder. “Wake up, you gross thing! Dinner’s here! Thirty minutes or your order’s free!”

  She bent down to find another rock, and froze when she heard the skittering of feet. The borebug uncurled itself. Its movements were sluggish, and it took a moment for the creature to right itself. The mandibles opened and closed, and it inched its way toward Mel, hissing and clicking. It filled the access tunnel with its bulk. The musty smell of it washed over her, making her stomach churn.

  “Well, crap,” Mel said. “Don’t you make your friends from earlier look fun-sized?”

  Fear lent her speed. She raced down the tunnel, heart thundering, lungs straining as her legs pumped. At first, the borebug dawdled, but as Mel got farther away, it realized it was about to lose a meal. It shook itself.

  She burst into the light, and kept going, praying her eyes would adjust quickly enough. When she peeked over her shoulder, she was just in time to see the borebug emerge from the tunnel. Unlike her, it wasn’t hindered by the sudden change in brightness. It charged toward her, picking up speed as it went.

  With each step, her legs weakened, yet she couldn’t stop. Ahead, Jahle and Dogan grappled. Dogan pinned his brother, and bit down on his shoulder.

  Jahle roared in pain, and Mel stumbled to a halt. She pressed herself against a ship. Her world seemed to spin. The last of her strength left her. Her legs buckled, and she slid to the ground, wheezing and panting for breath.

  The borebug clambered up to her, trying to find her now that she was motionless. She raised the sonar evaluator, and aime
d it, angling so the borebug would be driven away from her and toward the battle.

  As the mandibles descended, she squeezed her eyes shut and squeezed the trigger. The machine made no noise, but the borebug writhed and spasmed. It drew away from Mel and twisted toward Dogan and Jahle, scrambling away from the sonic vibrations produced by the sonar evaluator. She kept firing.

  Mel inhaled, fighting the wave of nausea and pain that washed over her. “Jahle!” she bellowed, praying she was loud enough. “Incoming!”

  Jahle heard her. His wide, triangular head turned to her direction, just in time to spot the frantic borebug. For a second, he was motionless, his eyes locked on hers.

  Then he bucked, throwing Dogan to the side. He rolled away, and as he did, his body shifted, moving from the strange dragon-like body back to his normal Ennoi one. He was a fraction too slow. Dogan’s clawed foot slammed down on his back, pinning him to the cement floor.

  Mel tried to shriek, but her lungs couldn’t seem to draw in enough air. The edges of the world grew hazy and dark. She watched in horror as the borebug slammed into Dogan, knocking him over. Seeing an opportunity at a meal, the borebug clamped down its jaws on Dogan’s neck.

  As it continued to scurry away, it dragged Dogan with it. Dogan dug his claws into the ground, trying to cling to the smooth concrete. He tried to shake off the borebug, but it yanked him off balance. He rolled, crushing its body between the floor and his bulk.

  “Dogan!” Jahle raised his hand, trying to warn his brother. “Watch the edge!”

  Dogan did not hear. He kept rolling, trying to dislodge the borebug. They hit the crack in the landing platform, and for a second, Dogan attempted to catch himself. The borebug’s frantic activity kept him from finding purchase on the edge.

  They tipped, disappearing over the edge of the platform.

  “No!” Jahle’s heartbroken cry filled the air.

  Mel collapsed to her elbows. Her face pressed into the concrete. She wanted to go to Jahle, but her body would not move. A moment later, a shadow fell over her. She rolled her eyes upward, expecting to see Jahle, but instead she saw Eien’s gaunt face.

  He tucked his hands into her armpit and hauled her upright. “Come.” he said. “We have to go.”

  Across the platform, Jahle lay motionless on the concrete.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  JAHLE

  The children would not speak to him.

  They scurried around him like frightened koedeer. They brought him meals. They tended his wounds. They spoke to each other of how Mel fared. They gossiped about how her fever burned. How she rambled in her sleep. And later, in relieved voices, they spoke of how she seemed healthier now, her sleep restful and her color returning.

  He was thankful for the news. While he did not want Mel to suffer, he avoided seeing her. When he had sneaked into the med-bay late one night to watch her sleep, he had been horrified by the paleness of her skin. To hear that she was recovering was a blessing. The children had taken good care of her.

  Yet they would not speak to him.

  Nor would they meet his eyes.

  Jahle lay on the narrow bed in a spare room of the ship. From the narrow sliver of portal above him, he spotted stars moving at an incredible rate, moving past in a blur. He could not bring himself to care about his destination.

  I am cursed.

  As a son, he had failed his family.

  As a brother, he had betrayed his blood.

  As an honor guard, he had betrayed his king.

  As a man, he had betrayed his honor.

  He rolled on the narrow cot, turning his face to the wall and swallowing back his grunt of pain. His chest ached where Dogan had crushed his ribs. His lung had ruptured, but that would heal. Scars meant nothing to him, because nothing could heal the ache in his chest.

  My brother is dead.

  When they had boarded the ship, Mel had used the last of her strength to leave an SOS message directed to the only name she knew: Kovos of Cadam. He might have stopped her if he had been awake, but he had succumbed to the pain.

  The pain did not matter.

  Kovos of Cadam might be swayed to offer leniency to the children and to Mel, but Jahle knew what awaited him.

  Death.

  Execution.

  If Kovos was kind, it would be quick. But a traitor did not deserve mercy.

  Jahle closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him.

  ***

  He woke to the sound of sirens. He stumbled out of his bed, clutching a hand to his ribs, and staggered to the cockpit. He noticed that the stars were no longer bright streaks, but spots of light once more.

  Have we stopped? Why?

  Eien chewed on his lip, staring at the screen.

  “What is it?” Jahle didn’t really expect an answer. Or least, not a direct one.

  Eien turned to the child beside him, a wide-eyed boy named Alay who was young enough to find comfort in sucking his fingers. “We’re being boarded.”

  “By who?”

  Eien shook his head.

  With a grunt of frustration, Jahle stumbled to the rear of the ship. He leaned against the wall, willing his broken body to cooperate. Eien walked up silently beside him.

  “You should go hide,” Jahle told him.

  The boy said nothing, but his lips were bloodless where they pressed together.

  “What’s going on?” Mel emerged from a side corridor. She leaned against the wall and coughed. “Trouble?”

  A lump rose to Jahle’s throat. He had avoided seeing Mel. When she had come to visit him, he had turned his face to the wall, enduring the silence until she had snapped, yelled, stormed off. Then her fever had worsened, and while he had crept in to see her, they had not shared words in days.

  “I do not know yet,” he said. His voice sounded too loud in the close confines of the ship. “We are being boarded.”

  Mel’s eyes narrowed. “They coming through that door?”

  Eien nodded. “Only way in from space.”

  “We got guns?”

  They did not, but Eien darted into a storage closet and returned with three heavy lengths of pipe. Jahle noticed that the tip of Mel’s pipe shook as she held it.

  “You two stay behind me,” he ordered.

  “Like hell,” Mel replied. She took her place beside him.

  Soon they heard movement behind the door. With a groan, the door opened. Jahle straightened as the first few figures entered. He recognized them. In their orange and sky blue uniforms, they could only belong to one house. The soldiers held weapons, which they kept pointed at the ground. Mel hefted her pipe, reading the threat even without words.

  The first of the soldiers pulled off his helmet, revealing a young, unmated male with bright green eyes. He studied Jahle, barely glanced at Eien, and then his eyes lit on Mel.

  To Jahle’s surprise, the stranger bowed. “Greetings. I am Akinoresh Un’Cadam, known as Resh. Lord Kovostad Il'Haron Ar'Cadam sends his fondest regards to the Lady Melissa Harlock of Earth. He bids me to escort you to Cadam.”

  Mel blinked. “What?”

  The Ennoi man smiled at Mel in a way that made the scales on Jahle’s chest ripple. “Your sister Lady Jenna Harlock of Earth sends her regards.”

  “What?” Mel dropped the pipe.

  “She says you owe her a pizza dinner.”

  ***

  The rest of the trip to Cadam passed in luxury aboard Resh’s ship. Medics tended to their injuries. For the first time in years, Jahle received a proper oil bath. He sank into the tub, letting the oil draw away the dirt from his scales and hair.

  When he emerged, he rubbed his scales with a cloth until they gleamed. He found a simple gray tunic laid out on his bed. A purple shawl lay beside it. The servant in the corner bowed. “My apologies, Lord Jahle. That is the closest to Geran colors we could find.”

  Lord Jahle.

  It has been a long time since I’ve been a
ddressed as such.

  He ran his fingers over the lush fabric, far silkier than anything to which he was accustomed. “It will do.”

  He pulled on the clothes and the servant set to brushing and braiding his slick hair, looping it in simple coils. Jahle studied his face in the mirror. With the gray and purple clothing, he resembled his oldest brother, Mikkil. They had the same sharp features, though Jahle had inherited their father’s nose. He ran his fingers over the purple shawl. It had been so long since he had worn his clan’s colors.

  The weight of his shame seemed to double.

  He was not worthy of wearing these colors.

  “We will land upon Cadam momentarily, my lord,” the servant said, tucking the final braid in place. “You may watch the approach from the observation deck.”

  Earlier, when Resh had shown them the observation deck, Jahle had averted his eyes. They were entering Cadam territory. If he had looked out across the vast emptiness of space, he would have spotted the planet’s sun in the distance. But he might also have seen space dust and litter. Signs of a battle.

  Signs of the attack that took his family’s lives.

  Instead he had lowered his head, and prayed.

  This close to the actual planet of Cadam, he felt braver. It was only right he watch his fate approach. He found Mel and Eien on the observation deck, peering down through the glass at the curve of planet below. Cadam was a direct contrast to Geran’s hard browns. It was swirled with bright swaths of greenery and snow-capped mountains. Jahle found himself admiring the world.

  The planet of his enemies.

  The planet where he would die for his sins.

  Beside him, Mel sighed. Her gown was a simple white dress, though she wore two shawls of pale green and blue around her shoulders. Her hair was slicked back and studded with tiny jewels. In the light of Cadam’s moons, she looked ethereal.

  “I never thought I’d see something like this,” she whispered.