For a Few Credits More: More Stories from the Four Horsemen Universe (The Revelations Cycle Book 7)

by Chris Kennedy

* * *

  The briefing took less than an hour and amounted to a great big shrug. When the last guardian sat down, Nik’Thil found he was rubbing his head again and forced himself to stop. He turned to Ta’La, who was sitting next to him, and opened his mouth to ask a question.

  She must have read his expression, though, as she answered before he could ask. “Yes, Enforcer Nik’Thil, that’s all we have.”

  He closed his mouth and stared at the slate one of the Kra’daar had provided for him. He felt conflicted, wondering if he should play nice or if it was time to put some pressure on these people. He decided instead to appeal to their sense of home.

  “We are the Kra’daar,” he said just loud enough for those around him to hear. “We have lived among the trees for our entire existence, in union with them, depending on them for shelter, food, and even our births.” He paused to let it sink in.

  “Now we are faced with an enemy who strikes from a hidden place. An enemy who does not care for the trees as we do...” Nik’Thil said before he was interrupted by a scoff from one of the Kra’daar.

  He looked toward the source of the noise and found a guilty set of eyes looking back at him. The two Kra’daar standing closest to the male backed away slowly. Nik’Thil stared at the male as he shifted his eyes nervously from Nik’Thil to Guardian Ta’La, who seemed just as shocked by the disrespect as the male looked.

  “Shall I have him killed?” Ta’La asked finally. “We could save him for the next fire and simply toss him in?”

  Nik’Thil waited a moment before answering, allowing the male to worry. “No,” he said finally. “Just remove him from the investigation and send him far away. We need Kra’daar who actually give a damn working on—” and he was interrupted again.

  “I do give a damn!” the male roared as he pointed to himself. “I might be the only one in this room who actually does!” Nik’Thil heard Ta’La inhale deeply in preparation for a vicious retort, but silenced her with a gentle touch on her arm. He wanted to hear what the male had to say.

  The male noticed the movement and noted his commander had been silenced. He continued, a look of pure hatred on his young face. “We cut down the trees! We kill them for profit! We sell our heritage, our lifesap, to the Galactic Union. What do we get in return? This!” The last word was punctuated by the male slamming his fist onto the metal table hard enough to leave a small dent.

  Nik’Thil waited for a moment to see if the male wanted to say anything else. Then he said, “The plague...” and was interrupted again.

  “The plague! That’s what you people always say! You sold out to the Galactic Union!” The male began to approach and Nik’Thil felt Ta’La tense. He gently pushed her out of the way as he took a single step toward the angry Kra’daar. The others in the room, noticing what was about to happen, all began to slowly back away. Those in the line of fire on both ends were a little hastier in their retreat.

  The male stalked closer, still yelling, pointing with the finger of his weapon-hand instead of moving it toward the laser pistol all guardians carried. “You and your kind sold our heritage for credits. Credits! For our entire existence, we’ve never needed credits! Now we have foreigners burning our trees!”

  “How do you know it’s foreigners?” Nik’Thil asked calmly.

  The male looked astonished. “Are you a fool?” he asked. All the others in the room gasped. Nik’Thil did not answer, but instead watched the male’s steady approach and watched his hands.

  “We should have never joined the blasted Union!” the male raged. “We shouldn’t have opened ourselves up to this evil! The reason we’re under attack is your fault and those like you!” The male was close now, barely a meter away. “The plague would have been better than this!” the male roared and reached for Nik’Thil’s face, extending thorn-like barbs from his outstretched hands.

  His opponent saw the attack coming, though, and was ready for it.

  The male reached. The enforcer kicked. The male grunted and bent at the waist. Nik’Thil raked the back of the male’s head. The male’s face slammed hard into the floor. It was over in a second.

  The male was motionless for several seconds as sap seeped from dozens of long gashes on the back of his head. The room was silent except for the heavy breathing of the male, which was the only indication he was still alive.

  Nik’Thil squatted in front of the prone male and opened his mouth to whisper something when the male suddenly reached for his laser pistol. Before anyone could react, the male’s body vanished and was replaced with an expanding shower of sparks and smoke.

  Two of the Kra’daar fainted, their solid tree-like bodies making dull, heavy thuds as they hit the floor. The enforcer stood, fletcher in hand and shook his head. The fletcher was a magnetic weapon that accelerated a rod of compressed iron and tungsten powder to nearly nine times the speed of sound. The effects were immediate and explosive, especially against dense targets.

  Nik’Thil dropped the spent cartridge from his fletcher and loaded a fresh one. He then scanned the room, slowly moving from one set of eyes to the next, challenging anyone else to try the same thing. Nobody did, so he put the weapon back into its hidden holster under his loose shirt and sat back down.

  “I’ve heard what you don’t know,” he said slowly. “Now I need to hear what you do know.”

  * * *

  It stuffed both hands into its large mouth in order to keep itself from squealing with anticipation. It wouldn’t do any good to attract the attention of something which might want to eat it before it got a chance to create. But the anticipation was almost more than it could stand.

  Unlike the Kra’daar, it did have the ability to cry, and it did so because in order to keep its hands in its mouth and squelch the squealing, it had to bite down. Big, thick, black tears formed in its eyes, temporarily blinding it. It blinked its tiny eyes, and the oily tears fell to the slight trickle of water at the bottom of the storm drain and hissed, turning the water gray.

  It didn’t notice, though, because it was watching the entrance to the building. Trees were going in. Some of them still had branches on them! This would be a creation that would be difficult to surpass in the future. That realization saddened it, but only for a second. The challenge would be finding a way to outdo itself in the future. Even if it couldn’t, it would be wonderful to try.

  Several minutes and a lot of crying later, the vehicles with hand-like things quit coming out. The big vehicles with the trees stopped going in. All was quiet.

  It removed its hands slowly and stared at the huge doors to the building. Nothing happened for several seconds, and it was confused. Then the doors began to rattle and slowly close. This was it!

  * * *

  Guardian Ta’La ordered a couple custodians to clean-up the remains of the male who tried to attack Nik’Thil. Two Kra’daar entered a minute later and struggled through the process, obviously repulsed by what they saw and smelled. They finished a few minutes later and hastily left the room.

  With the distraction gone from sight, even though the odor was still present, Nik’Thil ordered them again to tell him what they knew.

  The enforcer listened intently, but there wasn’t much the guardians were certain of. “Then tell me what your heart is telling you, not what your science says,” he told them. That livened things up a bit, though they still seemed cautious and kept giving Ta’La nervous glances. They seemed like they were withholding information.

  Ta’La leaned close to Nik’Thil. “I think I should leave for a little bit so they can speak freely. I’ll be back in an hour. If you need me sooner, use your slate to signal me.” Then she stood and addressed the rest of those present.

  “Another matter has been called to my attention,” she said. “I’m stepping out for a bit, but I expect your full cooperation with Enforcer Nik’Thil.” The last sentence was punctuated by a scowl. She then turned on a heel and marched out of the room. The rest of the guardians watched her go.

  A few secon
ds passed which the remaining guardians used to glance at each other and the enforcer before one of them started talking.

  “Permission to speak freely?” a female asked.

  Nik’Thil sat up straight and nodded.

  “We don’t know shit,” she said. “We’ve been stuck using this bullshit exclusively.” She waggled her slate and let it fall hard to the table. The others dropped their slates to the table as well, except for one who tossed it a bit too hard. That slate clattered to the floor.

  Nik’Thil looked to each of them. They seemed angry, frustrated, and desperate. “If you didn’t have all this wonderful technology at your disposal,” he asked sarcastically, “how would you investigate these fires and find the source?”

  The room erupted into talking, and the enforcer had to hold up a hand to silence them. “One at a time,” he said. Then he pointed at the female who had spoken and said, “You first.”

  She pressed her mouth tightly closed for a second, looking like she might lose her nerve, but finally spoke. “I’d send 100 or 200 out to patrol. Send us into the woods. Send us through the city. Turn us loose. Let us use our bodies to do what needs to be done.”

  “Use your bodies how?” he asked.

  “We will find the next fire the second it starts. And then,” she said, extending inch-long thorns from all over her body, ripping her uniform in the process, “we will stop the arsonist.” The look on her face and the tone of her voice conveyed deep, breathless excitement and anticipation.

  The enforcer glanced around the room. All the other faces were similarly grim. The plan was dangerous, he knew. Arsonists were unstable and guardians could die. However, if a fire was set in the right location, the economy of the entire planet could be ruined and many more Kra’daar could die.

  Nik’Thil stood and placed his fists on his hips. “By the power granted me by the Galactic Union and the Peacemaker Guild, I hereby deputize each of you for the duration of this investigation. You are to discover the source of these fires and stop it. If you can capture the criminal, do so. If you can’t...” he let the last sentence trail-off.

  There was a short pause before his fellow Kra’daar understood, then they roared their approval. Each extended his or her thorns and rushed from the room in a storm of flailing arms, legs, and thorns. The enforcer calmly walked from the room and joined them as they sheepishly waited for the lift to get to their floor.

  * * *

  It looked left and saw no threats, then it looked right and saw no threats; however, it hadn’t survived this long to get lazy and killed now. It stuck its head out of the storm drain, just a little, and looked up at the sky.

  Back on its home planet, things that flew found his kind quite tasty and killed them often. It looked, peering with its little eyes, and sniffed the air. It listened and darted its head back in just before a small, fast vehicle turned the corner, shining a bright white light in its direction.

  The vehicle passed quickly, and the creature knew it had not been discovered. It leaned out again and repeated the process. Movement across the street made it draw its head back in. The source of the movement was small, though, and after a moment of watching it recognized the movement as a small, tasty creature it liked to eat. It looked from the snack to the building, back to the snack. To eat or to create?

  Instinct told it to eat. Food was scarce where it was from, but seemed plentiful here. Opportunities to create, though, were not so plentiful, especially to create in a place where so many could appreciate it. Right in the middle of all the people. It looked back to the small, scurrying snack and frowned as the thing scuttled around the far corner of the building. It leaned out, checked again, and still detected no predators.

  Quietly and carefully, it put the object in its mouth, taking care not to damage it with its teeth. It then gathered its legs, and, after another quick check, it sprinted toward the double doors and reached them without incident. It searched frantically for a way in, a gap big enough to stick its head through, but found none. It glanced at the sky again, little eyes searching for danger, and saw none.

  It pressed its head against the spot where the doors met and found they would not budge. Then it tried the right-side hinge, then the left. It glanced back at the storm drain, then looked at the sky, then back to the drain. It considered running back, but the street was dangerous, and it was grateful to have made it across once. Then it heard danger.

  A vehicle was approaching the close corner. It wasn’t big, but vehicles were dangerous. It already knew that. Panic. It pushed hard against the doors again with its head. Finding they still would not budge, it sprinted away from the threat, from the vehicle that was just getting to the corner. The creature searched for somewhere to hide but saw nothing. If it couldn’t find something to hide under, then it would climb.

  It saw a stack of crates along the building, just a few meters down the wall, and leapt easily onto the first. Then it continued to climb, leaping and sprinting until it got to the roof. Then it felt horribly exposed. It ran one way, then the other, then froze in fear. Its eyes returned to the sky, and in the distance it saw something. It saw a vehicle...flying, and it felt a whole new level of terror.

  It looked about frantically and found a wide pipe sticking out of the roof. The pipe looked big enough to jump into, so the creature did. And then it slid down...deep into the building.

  * * *

  When the elevator arrived, the Kra’daar calmly entered, retracting their thorns to avoid hurting the others in the crowded elevator. The last one held the door for the enforcer, who joined them. Nobody spoke for most of the ride down.

  “Enforcer Nik’Thil,” a male said, “we’re going to need more help. Can we...”

  “Of course, you can enlist the help of others, deputy,” the enforcer said. Several Kra’daar laughed wickedly. Nik’Thil pretended not to notice.

  “Be sure to pick up communicators before you leave,” the enforcer said. “That way, you can call for assistance and alert others when you find and either capture or destroy the cause of the fires. Remember, I’d prefer you capture the arsonist.” The others nodded solemnly.

  The elevator dinged, and most of the Kra’daar leaned forward in anticipation of the door opening. The second it took seemed to stretch awkwardly and long. When the doors did open, they roared and erupted from the lift in another wave of arms, legs, and thorns. A few headed directly outside while the rest ran through the building gathering others to join them.

  Nik’Thil stepped out, adjusted his uniform, and waited. A minute later, Guardian Ta’La joined him. “What the hell was that all about?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I deputized everyone in the room and ordered them to use their bodies to find the arsonist. I also ordered them to be sure to bring communicators, but it looks like a few forgot.”

  “Oh, I understand now,” Ta’La said with a laugh. “Would you mind...” she started, leaving the question hanging.

  Nik’Thil turned to her thoughtfully. “Would you like to join them?”

  “I would,” she said, her voice dangerous and dark.

  “Very well, deputy. Grab a communicator and join them. I’d prefer if the arsonist was brought back alive.”

  Ta’La growled in anticipation and approached the dispatcher’s desk, behind which four very stunned-looking dispatchers sat with comms over their heads. Ta’La held her hand out, and a dispatcher wordlessly placed a communicator onto it. She attached the device to her head and inserted the small speaker into her ear-hole. Then she grinned wickedly at the enforcer, extended her thorns, which appeared to be about twice as long as the others’, roared, and charged from the building.

  * * *

  It scrabbled and tried to stop its descent, while at the same time trying not to bite down too hard on the object in its mouth.

  Finally, the little claws on its feet caught something and stopped its descent. It breathed a sigh of relief before glancing down with its little eyes. It was standing above a met
al register, flat bars of bent metal extending to either side. It could see a dim light from below, and it could smell the object of its creation. The scent was enough to make it want to mate right here, right now.

  It carefully reached out with one foot and poked the register. It didn’t budge. It poked the register harder, and it still didn’t move. Tentatively, it placed most of its weight on the register, and still it didn’t move. Then it found a secure place to put its forelimbs so it wouldn’t fall, put its whole weight on the metal, and found it was secure.

  The scent coming through the gaps in the metal was provocative and smelled like two forests, maybe three. It squealed with anticipation, unable to hold back any longer. There was no answer, nor the sound of any predators. It couldn’t wait any longer.

  With the object held in its forelimbs, it easily bit through the metal in three mouthfuls, spitting it out after every bite. Then it wondered, only for a moment, why it didn’t try to bite through the doors in the first place. But it didn’t pursue the thought. It could only obsess over the scent of the trees.

  Once it had bitten through enough of the metal to stick its head through, it did. It saw the register opened onto a small room and was just above what appeared to be a dark, endless pit. It studied its surroundings for a moment and nearly died from fright when a sound came from the endless pit. It was kind of a ‘glub’ followed by a ‘bloop’. Then it understood. The pit was full of fluid.

  It didn’t like the water, but it didn’t see a choice. It leaned through the hole, slowly pulling its body through, and finally hung by one foot. The thought of what might happen at the bottom was frightening, but there was no other way. It let go.

  * * *

  The order to find the arsonist had a bigger effect than Nik’Thil could have anticipated. He stepped outside as he placed a communicator into his ear and was surprised by the noise. It seemed his deputies had recruited help from every home and every corner in the city. The noise was a dull roar, but occasionally he saw an unknown Kra’daar sprint by, thorns extended, roaring. Oops, he thought.