“I’m surprised the public even learned of it,” Trace said.
“I turned him in.” A quavering sigh escaped her. “There was a trial. Everyone knew what had happened.”
“You risked everything.”
“I couldn’t live with what I’d done. Unfortunately, the other gangs feel the same way. I’ll be killed if I don’t make the program.”
“Suddenly, my stint in a penal colony looks pretty pale.”
“After the scandal died down, the CEB assigned a new recruiter to the center. He was once a Scout himself. He told me that cadets are accepted on merit, not in exchange for money or information.” She grimaced. “How could I let myself be used like that?”
“Impani, I—”
“I don’t deserve to be a Scout.”
“You’ll make a great Scout. I’ve never been paired with anyone better. And there’s no one I’d rather be lost with.”
She gave a small chuckle then sniffled. “On the ant world, when we were in that storage shed, you were about to kiss me. Why didn’t you?”
“You were frightened, and I didn’t want you to look back and think I had taken advantage.”
“I’m not frightened anymore.” She looked up at him.
He held her gaze, his deep eyes shadowed. Gently, he cupped her face in his hands. A blush warmed her cheeks. She touched his shoulder, drawing him closer.
A shriek rent the air.
Impani bolted upright. “That’s Natica.”
Trace leaped to his feet then ran along the bank, boots skittering upon the rocks. Impani followed, ears sharpened for sound, eyes wide in the black night. They reached the silent hut. Trace played his flashlight over the clearing and the surrounding brush, one hand upon his gun. Impani rushed past him, diving through the doorway.
Natica sat upon the narrow bed. She trembled visibly, and her face glistened with sweat in the faint light. “You’re here. I thought I dreamed you. I thought I was alone.”
Impani hugged her. “It’s all right. I won’t leave again.”
“I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“You’ll feel better in the morning. You’ll take one look at those circuit chips and—”
“But you don’t understand,” Natica wailed. “It’s not like it’s a name that’s on the tip of my tongue. It’s not as if I know I should remember something but I’m drawing a blank. No time has passed for me. We had breakfast and then I was here.”
Impani held her close, rocking her gently as she wept. What if Natica never remembered? How would they get back to the academy?
Trace peered through the doorway. Impani stared at him, unable to speak. She imagined spending her life on this world, living under Joss’ delusional godhood.
She had to do something.
Chapter 17
Trace woke slowly from dreams about flamethrowers. He opened his eyes to the gray light of morning, at first not knowing where he was. Then he remembered forming a bed out of the grass floor in the back of the hut.
He rolled over and gazed at the sunlight seeping through the roof. Joss’ cabana was in disrepair. He studied the thinning patches of vegetation above him. A grid-like frame of reeds showed through swirls of stringy grass—architecture different from the wooden tower in the middle of the village. Would this culture have considered cutting down trees for lumber if Emperor Joss and his counterparts hadn’t intruded upon them?
He sat up and rubbed his face. His gloves smelled as musty as his bed. Natica slept upon the platform in the center of the room. With a start, he realized Impani wasn’t there. He rushed from the hut and found her outside with the components strewn before her.
He let out a breath and knelt. “Good morning.”
She showed him the board. “Take a look at this. Does it seem familiar?”
“It’s like the homing device in your belt buckle. Only larger.”
“I think Robert is right. It gives us the ability to call an Impellic ring.”
“What good is that if the ring’s still fractured?”
“That’s where these chips come in.” She snapped a small board onto the edge of the larger. “I think they’re meant to modify the signal once we’re actually inside the ring, re-directing energy from the healthy rings onto the broken one.”
“Stabilizing it until we can get through.”
“The problem is I don’t know the proper configuration. Their edges are color coded, but the motherboard is not.”
“Match it to the device inside your buckle.”
“I tried.” She motioned at her belt lying in the grass. “It’s all integrated. I can’t get the parts off the board to look at them.”
He watched her in silence. He could almost see thoughts racing behind her bright eyes.
“The academy knows we aren’t techs. They would try to keep the device as simple as possible.” She rattled the chips in her hand then tossed them down. “I wish I had another belt for comparison.”
“Well, here. Take mine.”
“No,” she yelped. “We can’t risk damaging it. What if this isn’t the end of the line.”
“You think we might be picked up even after what Joss said?”
“We can only hope.”
Trace nodded. He didn’t want to stay on this world any more than she did. “What about Joss’ partner? Her suit had a belt.”
“That’s right. I wonder if the Royal Emperor would let us have it.”
“One way to find out.” He stood. “Be right back.”
She caught his hand. “Be careful. I don’t trust Joss.”
No doubt. The man’s a maniac. Interesting how easily Wilde fit in with him. Trace grinned. “Don’t worry.”
A well-trampled path cut through the trees. It was easier to follow in daylight. As he walked, he glanced skyward and realized that this was the first wooded planet he’d visited that didn’t have birds. He studied the bent and twisted branches, noticing only a few small mammals. Then the pungent smell of smoke reached him. Was the bonfire still burning?
The forest opened onto the village. Trace froze, staring. People sprawled over the tables, upon the ground, around the smoking ruins of the lookout tower. At first, he thought they were dead, that the village had been attacked while he slept in the cabana. Then he noticed other people moving in and out of the huts, hooting quietly to one another as if the scene were as natural as anything else was on this world.
Not dead. Inebriated. On the brew that was in the goblets.
Stepping carefully around the revelers, he approached the main table. Joss sat with his face in a plate. Wilde lay slumped to the side. Trace nudged him with his boot.
“Huh? What?” Wilde looked about, eyes unfocused.
“I hope you gathered some good intel on this place,” Trace said.
Wilde scowled and held his head. “Suck eggs, Hanson.”
“What’s that?” Joss boomed. “You came back? How did you enjoy the cabana?”
“Fine, sir. Nice view.”
“Never go there, myself. Smells like fish.” He guffawed. “Let me show you around my empire.”
He clasped Trace’s shoulder, leaning heavily upon him as he walked. Trace cringed from the stench of the man’s breath.
Joss pointed. “There’s a hut, and there’s a hut. And there’s my royal palace. From this angle it kind of looks like a hut.”
He laughed and slapped Trace’s back. Wilde glared murderously and stepped to Joss’ other side.
“How long have you been here, sir?” Trace asked.
“This location? Not that long.” Joss stroked his matted beard. “The grapes used to be nomads, following the migration of fish. But I don’t like all that moving around. So I introduced fire and taught them how to smoke fish and wait out the winter months. Then Beaumont came along.” Chuckling, he returned to the table, pried a goblet out of a sleeping warrior’s hand, and drank deeply.
Trace watched. How would he bring the topic around to his partner’s be
lt?
Wilde stepped toward Joss. “What did Beaumont do?”
“He taught his side how to use my fire to smelt ore and make spearheads,” Joss said. “I countered with chainmail, of course.”
“Why didn’t you just use stat-guns? You must have inherited a few.”
“Six, actually. But we decided early on that using tech would be cheating.”
Wilde grinned and sat cross-legged on the table. “What you need is an old-fashioned hammerhead slug pistol.”
“Yeah, but this planet’s got drel for resources,” Joss said. “No way to make gunpowder. No crude or kerosene.”
Wilde nodded. “I see the challenge.”
“The last thing Beaumont brought was hot air balloons. I tried arrows to bring them down, but the grapes have no upper-body strength. So I devised a crossbow with rapid load.” Joss removed a crossbow from one of the warrior’s wrists and held it out to Wilde.
Wilde whistled. “Nice workmanship.”
Trace said, “Sir, could I borrow Madelia’s belt?”
“What do you want with it?” Joss asked without looking up.
“We want to open the buckle and compare the homing device with what we have. We’re trying to construct a new device that will—”
“You’re building a homer?” Joss laughed, shaking his head. “Kids.”
Trace pulled back his shoulders. “Yes, sir.”
Joss looked him up and down. Suddenly he leaped onto the table and crowed like a rooster. The sleeping warriors stirred. Villagers rushed from the huts. Joss honked and hooted, waving his arms and kicking goblets into the air.
Trace watched with feigned calm, stifling the urge to step out of the way. Wilde sat stiffly on the table as if afraid to move.
Then Joss knocked over his partner’s effigy and stripped the belt from the suit. He grinned at Trace, his eyes wide and mad. “Show me.” Turning sharply, he goose-stepped across the village.
“Are you crazy?” Wilde whispered. “He already told you that you can’t ring off this planet. You’re throwing it in his face.”
“I’m crazy?” Trace hissed back. “How do you deal with someone like that? One minute he’s lucid, the next he’s out of control.”
“He rules here.” With a knowing nod, Wilde followed Joss into the trees.
Trace hurried to keep up. “He’s a madman. And he’s destroying this culture.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This war of his against Beaumont. These people aren’t killers. They make their homes out of living grass.”
“So he taught them a thing or two.”
They entered the path leading to the cabana. Ahead, Joss cackled and marched, cracking the belt like a whip.
Trace cringed with apprehension. Lowering his voice, he said, “A true leader would be benevolent.”
“Benevolent?” Wilde sneered. “No ruler has ever been benevolent. You can’t pander to others and expect them to do your bidding at the same time.”
“But to alter an entire society—”
“Watch yourself, Hanson. Joss should be admired for all he’s accomplished. In any case, he’s our one hope for survival on this planet.”
Trace snapped his mouth shut and fell back a few paces. Wilde was as deluded as his emperor. Perhaps after Impani connected the components, they should leave the two of them behind.
<<>>
Impani sat outside the cabana, speaking quietly to Natica. “And then you fell into the crevice left by the lightning bolt.”
“How long was I unconscious?”
“I don’t know. The better part of a day, I guess. I was beginning to—” She looked toward the sound of singing coming from the trees. “Oh, no. The emperor is here.”
Joss stepped from the forest path, twirling a belt overhead and giving an off-key rendition of The Farmer in the Dell. Trace and Robert followed. Trace appeared anxious, waving for her attention behind Joss’ back.
Joss did a jig along the outskirts of the clearing, singing, “The rat took the cheese.”
Trace mouthed put them away.
Impani frowned, perplexed. Then she gathered the components and scooped them into their package.
“The cheese stands alone,” Joss sang loudly, leaning over her.
Impani stammered, “G-good m-morning, Your Honor.”
“Whatcha got there, little girl?” Joss asked.
“Electronic components.” She rose to her feet. “Circuit chips.”
He wiggled his fingers, silently demanding the package.
She glanced at Trace then handed over the components. “We’re trying to put together a controlling device to summon an Impellic ring. But the chips are color coded and—”
“Industry standard,” he said, peering inside.
She stared at him. “What?”
“Techs use a common denominator to make components interchangeable. These are standard colors.”
It was as if a bomb went off in Impani’s mind. Images assailed her, and she struggled to make sense of them.
Trace said, “But in what order?”
“It’s a set pattern.” Joss shrugged.
Impani closed her eyes. She pictured Missus hunched over the control box on the ant planet. The motherboard looked like a rainbow. She saw it in her mind as clearly as if she had taken a holograph.
“So what is the pattern?” Trace asked, his voice rising.
Joss laughed. “How should I know? I’m not a tech.”
“Orange, yellow, green, blue, black, white, red,” Impani said. She snatched the parcel from Joss’ hands and poured it onto the ground, laying the chips in order. Elation filled her. She glanced at the blank faces staring down at her. “Red and white connect the power, so they must go on the end here.” She snapped the chips onto the motherboard.
“You’ll never do it.” Joss snickered. “Greater minds than yours have tried to find a way off this world. You’re just a kid.”
“There’s room for three along this side,” Natica murmured.
“Even if you do call a ring,” Joss said, “which of you will be leaving? You know it can carry only two.”
“That’s not quite right, sir,” Robert cooed sycophantically. “The four of us came here in the same ring.”
Trace said, “Impani and I once carried an animal between worlds.”
“A large animal.” Impani smirked at Joss. “So if I can get this thing working, you can come back with us.”
Joss stared. “Me?”
“Sure. Don’t you want to finally leave this planet?”
His face melted into a slow grin. “It would be one hell of a debriefing.”
Impani reached for her belt and opened the buckle. A line of lights blinked merrily. She paused. “Wait. The power crystal is integrated. It won’t detach. I need a separate power supply.”
“Hello?” Robert sang out. “The power pack is missing.”
Trace knelt. “Can you use a stat-gun like you did for Missus?”
She shook her head. “The proton beam of a stat-gun is powered by static electricity converted from the air. There’s no air inside a wormhole.”
Robert cried, “Why can’t you just listen to me?”
“Why can’t you be a little more supportive?” Trace snapped.
“There must be something we can use.” Natica glanced from person to person.
Impani frowned, her head too full to think. Then her gaze fell upon the belt in Joss’ hand. “The resonator. Madelia had a resonator. Joss, let me see that belt.”
Joss handed her his partner’s belt. She took out the resonator and flipped it open. Dusty lights flitted across the face.
“It’s still charged.” She flashed a smile at the silent group. Beneath the pressure of their stares, she slid back the case. A removable power pack sat amid red-and-white connectors. She opened her own resonator and pulled out a length of wire. “I think I can daisy-chain them together.”
“Take mine, too.” Robert shrugged
. “We might need the extra energy.”
She smiled and nodded. It took only a few moments to strip the packs and attach them in line to each other.
As she finished, she said, “The only way this will work is if everyone holds onto me.”
Joss sniffed. “Not a secure mode of travel.”
Impani stood with the device in one hand and the linked power packs in the other. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Here we go.”
Chapter 18
With trembling fingers, Impani plugged the power packs into the motherboard. Immediately, the board vibrated with an almost inaudible hum. A whirling sensation stirred her stomach.
Joss whooped and crushed her in a bear hug. “The ring is coming! We’re on our way!”
Trace wrapped one arm about her shoulders and held Natica with the other. Robert held onto her waist. Impani closed her eyes, willing the device to work.
The ring never arrived.
“What happened?” Robert asked.
Impani shrugged from the group embrace. “Not enough power.” She disconnected the unit.
“But we’re almost there,” Trace told her. “You put the components together. You figured it out.”
Suddenly, she wanted to cry. “What good does it do if we can’t make it work?”
Joss burst into gales of laughter. She glowered, caught between embarrassment and indignation.
“Don’t leave without me,” he chortled and ran into the trees.
“Where’s he going?” Robert asked.
Natica shook her head.
“Who cares?” Impani’s gaze dropped to the board in her hand. “Joss is right. I’ll never do it.”
“But you have done it.” Trace cupped her chin. “I felt the ring.”
“I didn’t feel anything,” Robert said, sullenly.
Trace shoved him. “Joss felt it.”
“Joss is crazy!” Impani cried.
“So what are you going to do?” Trace asked. “Give up?”
“At least we’re on a hospitable world,” Robert said. “Joss has lived here for two years.”
Alien Worlds Page 15