Azusu glared at him. “You command me, do you?” she said. “You command me.” There was something dangerous in her tone. One of the brown-feathered courtiers placed a wing on her shoulder. “Don’t try to calm me, down, Unuro!” she snapped.
Taius paused. “I do command you,” he said. “I am a legate of the Vorem legion. I outrank a praefectus.” He reached into his pocket and showed her his own gold token.
Azusu glared at him. “Kyral is technically a Dominion world, boy. But you may find that here, your fancy rank doesn’t matter as much as you’d like. In fact, you may find that very few Aeaki have fond feelings for our absentee landlords, the Vorem.”
This time, the brown-feathered Aeaki—apparently called Unuro—spoke to Taius. “That is not to say that we ourselves have anything but the purest loyalty to the great Vorem Dominion. Praise the great Imperator . . . er, who is it these days?”
“Aetox XXIII,” said Taius.
“By the gods, you’re already at twenty-three? Congratulations!” screeched the other drab-feathered Aeaki.
Azusu shot him a look. “Leave politics to the grown-ups, Biji.” She turned back to Taius. “But, as my servants say,” she croaked, “praise the Dominion.” Her words dripped with venom.
“Praise the Dominion,” repeated Taius. “I also require that you take these four”—he indicated the four humans—“into custody, for questioning. I believe they were involved in an earlier attack upon a Vorem ship.” Curiously, he didn’t point to me.
“Hang on just a second,” said Becky. “This purple creep stowed away aboard our starfighter and made us crash-land it on Kyral. If anyone should go to jail, it’s him! Attempted murder. Destruction of property. Endangering a minor.” She pointed to Little Gus. Gus nodded.
“You crashed the ship, you crazed female!” cried Taius, losing his cool. “I asked you to take me back.”
“And you were so polite about it too,” said Nicki.
“Enough,” shrieked Azusu. “First off, do you see any prisons around here? No one is going into ‘custody.’ As for Vorem military outposts, there aren’t any. Odd how little you seem to know about this valuable Dominion holding, Legate.”
I could see the hope draining from Taius’s face. “If there isn’t a permanent Vorem military presence on Kyral,” he said, “then I will require the use of a starship. I need to return to my father’s battle cruiser as soon as possible.”
“Do we look like we have starships? Sounds like you just wrecked your only way off this planet!” laughed Azusu. “Look, I’ll tell you what Kyral has in ample supply. Grass, garbage, and death. If you need any of those three things, we’ll be happy to oblige.
“But you—” said Taius.
“Pardon me, Raefec,” I interrupted. “Are you absolutely sure there are no ships here?”
“No, you got me. There are plenty of ships! I’m holding out on you,” she said sarcastically. “In fact, I’ve got ten of them. I just choose to live in a trash hut surrounded by idiots.” Unuro and Biji fluffed their feathers indignantly.
There it was. The Aeaki—so far, less friendly than the cyclopaedia promised—wouldn’t be able help us after all. The humans looked crestfallen, except for Hollins. He merely looked confused.
“But from what I’ve read of Kyral,” I said, “it is supposed to be a very technologically advanced world.”
“Then you must have some very old books, Chorkle the Xotonian,” she said.
I nodded. She was right. “So what happened?” I asked.
“They happened,” she said, pointing ominously to Taius. “Look, I’ll show you something.” Slowly and with great difficulty, she extricated herself from the old wooden chair. When her two servants attempted to help her up, she swatted at them with her wings. At last, she stood, and she led us to a dark corner of the long hut.
“We don’t have books anymore, these days,” said Azusu. “All we can manage are pictures.” She indicated a set of three murals with different subject matter from the others.
The first showed Aeaki of all colors cowering together in a city as fire rained from the skies. In the next scene, black armored figures marched in orderly lines through a charred wasteland, driving the Aeaki before them. A few resisted, but the Vorem tore them apart with blaster fire. The third scene in the triptych showed a handful of Aeaki bowing to the victorious Vorem legion. The ground was littered with the corpses of their comrades.
“Long ago, Kyral was a wondrous place,” said Azusu. “A beautiful, idyllic world. Billions of Aeaki lived in peace. Cities, commerce, science—you name it, we had it!”
“Did you have roller coasters?” asked Little Gus.
“Probably,” said Azusu, nodding. “Everyone says that Hykaro Roost was built by the gods, but it wasn’t. It was built by us. We could fly to other planets on our own ships! They were much better than the Vorem junkers. And they could travel faster than light! We traded with distant worlds. Explored the universe.”
She paused. “But we had something the Vorem wanted. The crust of Kyral was rich with phanium. That’s a mineral ore that’s used in making hyperdrives, the engines that allow for interplanetary space travel. So the Dominion attacked us. We fought, of course. Even joined an alliance against them. The League of Free Civilizations, it was called. Ha!” She laughed joylessly. “Fat lot of good it did. Free? Civilization? Thanks to the Vorem, the Aeaki are neither anymore.”
“I’ve heard of the League of Free Civilizations,” I said. Jalasu Jhuk’s hologram had mentioned it when we had discovered the hidden hangar. General Ridian mentioned it too, just before he’d attempted his invasion of Gelo.
“Yes, it makes sense you’d know of it, because the Xotonians were members,” said Azusu. “The Aeaki and the league held the Vorem off for awhile. But at last, they breached our defenses. Hit us with their nuclear weapons. They burned everything.”
“That’s what created Kyral’s planetary ring,” said Nicki. “Debris from the explosions.”
Azusu nodded. “In a matter of hours, our civilization was a memory. A few Aeaki survived. Half of them refused to give up, and they kept on fighting. I guess they’re fighting still. The other half surrendered to the Vorem, including my brave ancestors.” She chuckled darkly. “That’s how my praefectus badge was passed down to me. We bowed to those who had burned our world and became part of the Dominion.”
“But if you’re part of the Dominion,” I asked, “where are all the Vorem?”
“Gone,” she said. “The Vorem did stay for a few years. They stamped out the last of the underground resistance left in Hykaro Roost. Stripped the planet of all its phanium. Took anything else of value that wasn’t nailed down or burned. Then they left.”
“So they’ve forgotten about you,” said Becky.
“Not exactly,” said Azusu. “Every few years the Vorem Dominon lands a big, impressive-looking starship somewhere near Hykaro Roost to keep us cowed. They frighten the locals and toss a shiny medal on whichever nearby warlord can show them one of these.” She held up her praefectus badge. “Then they take off again for the stars.”
She sighed. “But not before making sure the Aeaki have a few more energy blasters,” she said, patting the one at her hip. “It might sound strange for conquerors to arm the conquered. But they’re not here, and they know we’ll just use them on one another. Let us conquer ourselves.” She laughed again, but this time no one joined her.
I looked around the hut. The tale of Kyral’s fall had Ikuna and Aloro seething with rage. Azusu’s male servants looked very nervous indeed. Taius was unreadable.
“Maybe Kyral could come back,” I said. “Maybe the Aeaki can rebuild. You can’t give up hope.”
“Enough. The only thing I find more tiresome than Vorem is pointless optimism,” said Azusu. She turned to Taius. “But speaking of Vorem, you still haven’t explained why you’re here.”
Taius swallowed. “I have come here on a routine reconnaissance mission to—”
“Pshaw. He’s not supposed to be on Kyral,” said Nicki. “We all came here by accident. We warped into this galaxy through a wormhole from the other side of the universe, along with the asteroid where the Xotonians live. It’s actually super interesting. The wormhole opened after we—”
“All ate a big lunch!” I said, shooting Nicki a look. She had almost accidentally mentioned the Q-sik.
“You lot came with the new moon?” asked Azusu.
We nodded.
Azusu stared directly into Taius’s eyes now. “So, Legate, now that you know the tale of how the great Dominion destroyed our civilization and pillaged our world, what do you have to say for yourself?”
There was a long silence before he spoke. “The Aeaki shouldn’t have fought back,” said Taius. “If you had simply surrendered, your civilization would have survived.”
Ikuna couldn’t handle it anymore. “Let’s kill the Vorem scum, Raefec Azusu!” she screeched from behind me. “Toss him from the top of Oru and be done with it. He can’t even fly.”
“No, no, no,” cried Unuro. “We are loyal Vorem subjects! We love the Vorem. Raefec, remember, your own claim to power is a Dominion title. You are their local representative!”
“You heard the Homo sapiens,” said Ikuna. “No one even knows this Vorem worm is on Oru.”
“It could be a test!” said Unuro. “If we help him, maybe the Imperator will reward us. With more weapons, perhaps! Or even some of these ‘roller coasters’ I’ve been hearing so much about! In fact maybe the real enemies are these other five. I bet they’re in league with the Uji. Perhaps the Dominion wants them—”
“The Dominion doesn’t even remember that Kyral exists,” said Ikuna.
“Wrong,” said Taius. “My father’s battle cruiser, Secutor, is orbiting this planet as we speak. If you help me, he will reward you.”
“Yeah. More like half his father’s battle cruiser,” Little Gus corrected him. “And not the good half either. No weapons. No communications. It can’t even move. Also, his dad’s a huge wad.”
“What? My father is not a ‘wad’!” snapped Taius.
“We can’t take this little red alien’s word for it, Raefec!” squawked Unuro. “If we harm a Vorem legate, then the Dominion will rain fire from the skies again. We’ll all be burned!”
“If General Ridian actually wanted Junior back,” said Becky, “he probably would have contacted us about it sometime in the last three months. He didn’t. You know why? He doesn’t care.”
At this, Taius turned and glared at her with pure hatred. His fists were balled, and his teeth were bared in a snarl. He opened his mouth to yell something, but Azusu cut him off.
“All of you, shut up,” said Azusu. Her little black ring caught the firelight as she turned it over in her wing. “I need time to think about this. Everyone out.” She bowed her head sarcastically to Taius. “With your permission, of course, honorable Legate.”
Taius said nothing, but he turned to leave.
Unuro and Biji remained behind the throne, looking concerned for their aged Raefec. Asuzu turned to them. “I said everyone!” she squawked. Her two servants hung their heads and followed us out of the hut.
For an instant, I spied the small, white-feathered Aeaki peeping around the edge of the doorjamb. Eavesdropping? At once, she disappeared again.
“Raefec Azusu,” I said, stopping. I turned to face her. “May I ask one more question?”
“Make it quick,” said Asuzu. She rubbed her temples as though she had a terrible headache.
“Why do you all speak Xotonian?” she said.
“Around here we call it Aeaki,” she snapped. But then she softened. “You’re right: It isn’t our native language. If we ever had our own, it died in the nuclear fire.” She gestured toward the mural.
I nodded and stepped out into the sunlight. The whole village of Oru had gathered outside the Raefec’s hut.
“So what just happened in there?” asked Hollins. “I definitely caught something about roller coasters.”
Chapter Ten
Night had fallen on the village of Oru, and the fire pit was blazing. The crowd of villagers had not dispersed for two hours. The Aeaki gave all of us aliens a wide berth, though, as we sat on the ground and waited.
On one side of our three-meter bubble of space, Taius Ridian rested, legs crossed, eyes closed. I huddled with the humans on the other side.
“Now I think I understand how you all must have felt when you first came to Core-of-Rock,” I whispered. “Everyone here hates us.”
“Yup. ‘Oru’?” said Little Gus. “More like ‘O-rude.’”
We all stared at him. No one laughed.
“What?” he said. “They can’t all be winners.”
“Hey, I wonder what that one did,” said Hollins. “They treat her even worse than us.” He pointed across the fire to another patch of empty space. At the center of it sat the small, white-feathered Aeaki. She was playing in the dirt and talking to herself. Around her neck she wore a shiny necklace of nuts and bolts.
I stood, and the crowd parted before me as I walked toward her. “Hi,” I said. “What are you doing?”
The little Aeaki looked around nervously. She didn’t seem to realize that I was talking to her.
“Just watching,” she said at last. “Watching and listening.”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Eyf,” she said.
“My name’s Chorkle,” I said.
“I’m—I’m not an Oru,” she said as though confessing to some grave sin. Then she turned away in embarrassment.
“Yeah. I’m not either,” I said. “And I’m glad too. With a few exceptions, the Oru seem to be jerks. And the exceptions all seem to be mold-brains.”
Eyf stared at me. Then she laughed, a high chirping sound. A few nearby Aeaki gave us disdainful looks.
“You are a space alien,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper.
“Yup,” I said, “I can even do this.” And I changed my skin color to the mottled orange and red of the Oru Aeaki plumage. Eyf gasped.
“I wish I could do that,” she said. “But my feathers just stay white.” She regarded her own wing. “I’m not an Oru,” she repeated glumly.
I was about to ask her what was so great about being an Oru anyway when the crowd started to murmur. I shifted to see what they were looking at.
At last, Azusu had emerged from her long hut. She cleared her throat and addressed the crowd.
“As you all now know,” said Azusu, “we have outlanders here in Oru. They came all the way from outer space to our little village. Few of you have ever seen one in person, but that purple fellow there is a Vorem.”
Some squawked in disapproval. Taius stood and faced the crowd, defiant.
“Some say we should kill him,” said Azusu, “after what his species did to this planet, to the Aeaki. Maybe he deserves it?” About half the crowd cheered at this. Azusu quieted them and continued. “Others say we shouldn’t court trouble. That we should bow down to this little Vorem legate. Arrest his enemies”—she waved at the humans—“maybe even toss them off Oru and watch them splatter.” She glared at Unuro, but he appeared unapologetic. No one actually cheered for the second option, but I could tell that some were open to it. The humans all looked sick with worry.
“Well,” said Azusu, “you all know your Raefec. If half the Oru want one thing and half the Oru want another, old Azusu will pick a third thing just to spite everyone.” A light chuckle came from the crowd.
Azusu turned toward us. “All of you aliens: Vorem, Homo sapiens, Xotonian,” she said, waving her wing dismissively, “we of the Oru clan will do you no harm. But neither will we help you. Tomorrow you must leave this villa
ge. You can take as much food and water as you can carry. But I won’t have a Vorem living here among us, trying to pull rank with me. And I won’t give aid to wanted fugitives either. Not while I’m still a Dominion praefectus.”
The crowd grumbled, but they seemed to accept the verdict. The humans smiled with relief. I, for one, didn’t mind exile. One day was quite enough time in the village of Oru for me. If they couldn’t help us find Kalac, they were wasting our time.
“Um, excuse me,” a tiny voice called out.
“What?” said Azusu, looking around in annoyance. “Who is that?”
Little Eyf stood and stepped forward. “It’s me, um, Eyf?” she said, as though unsure of her own name. Her voice was trembling.
Azusu squinted at her. “But you’re not an Oru.”
“I—I know I never spoke up before, but I just wanted to say that, um, these aliens can’t fly like we can, Raefec.”
“Yes, we all know that, genius,” snapped Azusu, getting a big, mean laugh from the crowd. “With insights like this, no wonder nobody listens to you!”
“Right, um, well, what I mean is that if they leave the village, they’ll have to walk. Across the ground.”
“So?” said Azusu.
“But on the ground,” squeaked Eyf, “there are crells and stalking yost-leopards and even great rahks hungry for flesh. There is the cursed Glass Desert, where nothing lives. And the sickly marshes full of creeping sleem. On the ground, they will be easy targets for the Uji, Esu, Abi, and all the other clans we haven’t even heard of. Praefec, to walk across Kyral—that’s almost a death sentence.”
“Almost. But not quite,” said Azusu with a shrug.
“But Raefec, the Xotonian”—Eyf pointed to me—“is just looking for others of its kind who might be in trouble.” So she had been eavesdropping. “Without help from one who knows Kyral’s dangers, then there is no hope of ever finding them.”
“Aye, and who’s to help them?” asked Azusu.
“Um . . . I could?” said Eyf.
“You’re making me repeat myself, you ignorant hatchling,” snapped Azusu in a dangerous tone. “As I said before: None of the Oru will help these aliens!”
For the Love of Gelo! Page 10