Reid is in front of me, examining my shoulder. His brows pinch together in confusion and panic. “Sampson! What is this?”
The Fychu makes his way over as Clarence and Blovid address the others. Scanning my shoulder, he gestures to Reid. “Step back.”
Reid moves to my other side, watching as Sampson lifts his green hands and rubs them together. Closing his eyes, five long seconds pass before he swiftly scrapes my shoulder clean with his talon. There’s a sharp burning and suddenly, something sizzles on the ground.
I nearly fall to the floor with it, but Reid catches me.
“Fallon,” the Fychu says. “Fallon—look at me. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. What was that?”
“A Pwebole,” Qippert approaches, assisted by Vix. “The inhabitants of Larupip.”
“But what hit you,” Sampson steadies me, “is a nitnit. It’s a non-lethal magnetic device used to pin predators—or in this case, prey—to its corresponding target.”
“Little bastards,” Werzo kicks one of the unconscious ones.
“They are not violent,” Qippert frowns as Vix helps him move closer to the pile of blue fur in the center of the floor. “I wonder what motivated the attack.”
“Hey,” Reid holds my face in his hands. “We’ll get some Tregmint on it tomorrow, okay?”
I nod, trying not to wince at the amount of pain still throbbing in my shoulder. It would only upset him.
Blovid, still in true form, stands over the shaking lot as the rest of us move in on them. Now that we’re not under attack, I can get a better look at our assailants. Basically knee-high balls of light blue fur, they have six skinny limbs—two arms and four legs that end in little hands and feet which resemble a monkey’s. Two wide, white eyes shift in the center of their furry face with a deep cobalt snout protruding a few inches below.
“Well,” Blovid probes, “you seemed to have failed whatever mission you set out on.”
They ramble to themselves in a buzzing hum of indecipherable tones.
Sampson shakes his head, “One at a time please, and in English.”
The one closest to him shifts between both sets of legs. “Pweboles meant no harm, Fychu,” he says in a nasally voice.
“I beg to differ,” Clarence laughs.
“Pweboles meant no harm. Pweboles would never willingly harm the Fychu or any Dofinike.”
“And what vendetta do you have against the humans?” Blovid asks.
“None, sir.”
“None?” Blovid zips back into human form, Sampson and Clarence quickly following. “Then why attack them?”
“They were the first ones the Pweboles saw.”
Clarence exhales, running his fingers over his brows. “We’re going to be here all night.”
“You are not making much sense,” Blovid sighs.
“What is your name?” Sampson asks.
“We are Pweboles.”
“But your name… you are called?”
“Pobo, if it pleases the Fychu.”
“Okay, Pobo,” Sampson starts, “now please explain why you attacked.”
“Pweboles needed to.”
“Why did you need to?”
“Pweboles follow orders. Always have.”
“So it was ordered?” Clarence looks around at the others before focusing on Pobo again. “Who ordered it?”
“Pweboles agreed to terms as requested. Pweboles meant no harm, but Pweboles must complete as requested.”
“Yeah,” Clarence laughs, “that’s not going to happen.”
“But Pweboles must complete task.”
“And that is to kill us?” Sampson asks.
“It is not Pweboles’s desire. It is not Pobo’s desire.”
“Then why must it be done?”
“Pallooloo.”
“Pallooloo,” they all ramble in their nasally voices over one another.
“What is a Pallooloo?” Able asks.
“Who is Pallooloo,” Qippert says. “It is their king.”
“These clowns have a king?” Jace laughs.
“Is Pallooloo who ordered this?” Sampson narrows his eyes on Pobo.
“Pallooloo wishes the Fychu no harm.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Pweboles follow orders. Always have.”
“Can I kill him?” Jace glances around. “Seriously? I can do it real quick. No one would miss him.”
Sampson shakes his head, stroking his chin in deep thought. He drops to one knee, bringing himself face to face with Pobo. “I need you to listen carefully to me,” he takes a deep breath. “Was it Pallooloo that ordered this?”
“Pallooloo wishes the Fychu no harm.”
Sampson frowns and takes a calm breath. “Is Pallooloo safe?”
“Pallooloo is in grave danger.”
“Why?”
“Pweboles attacked. Pallooloo taken.”
“By who?” Sampson asks. “Who took Pallooloo and who ordered this?”
“Pobo does not know.”
“His name?” Clarence tries. “Or what he looks like?”
“Pobo does not know.”
Clarence, along with most of the Rogues let out a deep, annoyed exhale but Sampson keeps strong, holding focus with the Pwebole.
“Was it a Dofinike?”
“Dofinikes visit Larupip.”
“And Pallooloo is with them?”
“Pweboles attacked. Pallooloo taken.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Werzo snaps.
“Patience,” Sampson requests, focusing back on Pobo. He takes a deep breath, centering on Pobo’s large, white eyes. “Will Pallooloo be returned if you complete this request to kill us?”
“Pweboles wish for the safe return of Pallooloo.”
Sampson rises to a stand. “My guess is that Reuzkimpart sent troops here—and to Arosin, most likely—blackmailing the natives to attack on his behalf by abducting a key member of their society.”
“So,” Clarence says, “that means there could be Vermix here, on Larupip?”
“It is likely. They’re probably tucked away somewhere nearby with Pallooloo…”
“Pallooloo,” the Pweboles ramble over one another.
“…Or off planet with him, checking in from time to time to see if there have been any other sightings. We just have to find out if the Vermix are here or not.”
“But you’ve already tried asking him,” Clarence says. “You can’t get anything out of him.”
Sampson thinks for a second, dropping to his knee again and facing Pobo. “You will not complete this request.”
“Pweboles wish for the safe return of Pallooloo.”
“Pweboles follow orders,” Sampson says.
“Pweboles follow orders,” Pobo repeats. “Always have.”
“You will take me to where Pallooloo is being kept. Do this, and I shall return Pallooloo back to you.”
“Pallooloo,” all the Pweboles ramble in nasal unison.
“Fychu…” Qippert starts. “Is this wise? We are heading off planet tomorrow. There is no need…”
“There is need,” Sampson rises to a stand. “I am a Fychu, as you’ve said. It is my responsibility to maintain peace. I cannot allow a culture to live in fear and blackmail, even one as…unique as the Pweboles.”
“But the little bastards attacked us!” Werzo throws his hands up. “And now you’re going to help them?”
“I’m going to free them so they don’t have to attack again.”
“When?” Clarence asks.
“The sooner the better,” Sampson heads for the hole in the wall, running his hand over the blasted opening. “If the Vermix are here, they may know the Pweboles attacked us. They may know we’re here right now.”
“They could be outside,” Werzo’s eyes flicker to the hole.
“But if they have him off planet…” Blovid scratches his chin.
“Pobo,” Sampson returns to the short blue Pwebole, “are we in agr
eement? You will take me to where Pallooloo is being kept and I shall return him back to you.”
“Pweboles follow orders,” Pobo scurries for the hole in the wall. “Always have.”
“They’re here,” Sampson looks back to us.
“But how many would there be?” Clarence asks. “And how are we doing this?”
“Fychu…” Qippert exhales, “please, this is an unnecessary risk. If Reuzkimpart left an entire fleet...”
“He wouldn’t. He’s a delegator. He will have left a few troops on each target and then had them force the natives to do his work for him. Pobo, wait,” Sampson turns to the herd of Pweboles making for the exit. “Not this second. You will take me to Pallooloo when I order.” With that, Sampson heads back through the narrow tunnel toward the two-level compartment with all the Carring hides, everyone quickly following.
“The Fychu is right,” Blovid agrees once we reach the other end. “Reuzkimpart is a delegator. He has always been too busy to do his own work.”
“We didn’t even think he’d consider Larupip as an option,” Clarence glances to Sampson.
“Apparently he is considering all options,” Blovid races up the stairs, tossing various colored hides about.
“So what are we looking at?” Clarence asks. “Five? Twenty? Fifty?”
“And who is going?” Vix glances at Qippert next to her.
“I’d say we leave the kids here,” Clarence looks to us with an unsettling frown. “But if the Vermix know we are here…”
“Heads up,” Blovid calls from the second level, tossing down a Traxpire. “Snagged them before I left.”
Sampson catches the first one and hands it off to Clarence. “Then this place has been compromised,” he agrees, glancing up to the Arizal Leader, “sorry, Blovid.”
“It is not my home,” he tosses down another gun. “Not by a long shot. I was not planning on staying here much longer, anyway.”
“Reid,” Sampson hands it over, returning to catch another Traxpire. “We may be able to return if we disable the troop. Or, we could assume their abode for the night.”
“Or just head for Nerwolix now…” Qippert tries again.
“I must do this old friend,” Sampson passes out a Traxpire to each of us. “I would not ask this of you, though. Please, go to Nerwolix. Advise Hozfin we plan to return tomorrow.”
“Fychu…” Qippert tenses. “That is not—” he sighs, closing his eyes in aggravation. “I am not leaving you.”
“You are still recovering. Allow Vix to assist with your protection. The rest of us will disarm and disable the Vermix.”
“How?” Werzo asks. “We’re just going to bum rush them?”
“No. We can’t go in with all our forces. We need to know what we’re up against; we need a count of how many there are,” he exhales. “We need bait.”
I elbow Werzo. “You’re up.”
“You’re just going to draw them out?” Clarence asks.
“Afraid so,” he looks over us in consideration, “and we’ll need two. Able? Werzo? You up for it?”
“Why us?” Werzo whines. “Maybe Fallon might—”
“Not a chance,” Reid shakes his head as Werzo slumps in defeat.
“No offense,” Sampson looks between them, “but I need all my best shooters on reserve, ready for when the Vermix fly out.”
“Ouch,” Able laughs.
“So you think the Vermix are held up in some place similar to this?” I ask.
“Could be,” Sampson nods, glancing around, “let’s grab some white Carring hides as well. Shelter you from the cold and help camouflage us,” he starts passing out the white fur. There’s only enough for half but we disperse it evenly, breaking off into pairs. Satisfied, Sampson nods. “Everyone good? Qippert? Vix?” he tosses a Traxpire to her and she catches it in her free hand. “Use only if you must.”
“What are those?” Able asks, watching everyone situate themselves with the weapon.
“Traxpires,” Reid says. “One of the Dofinikes’ most valuable forms of defense.”
“Well…” Clarence corrects, “…more like the Vermix’s. Arizals are supposed to be ‘weapon-less,’ except for hand to hand combat.”
“Why is that?” Able frowns.
“It goes back to an even playing field, I guess. I’m not really sure. Sampson?”
“Arizals promote peace, not war. It wouldn’t make any sense to have a standard weapon beside strong ideals and the strength to carry them out. Also,” he explains as the Pweboles come scuttling down the tunnel toward us, “Arizals come from all Three Worlds, so there is no unified weapon. But the art of self defense belongs to everyone, and can be traced throughout every galaxy. To know your body, to know its capabilities, is the best defense possible. Mix that with the study of your enemies and there is no need for weapons.”
“But with a Traxpire in your face…” Werzo starts.
“Disarming is just as effective as firing.”
“Then why are we bringing these?” he gestures to the weapon in his hand.
“I don’t like to make a big production of things. If, for some reason, Reuzkimpart did leave a large fleet, I don’t want to take any chances. We haven’t come this far to be defeated on Larupip.”
“Pobo wishes for the safe return of Pallooloo,” he shifts between both legs.
“I know, Pobo,” Sampson nods, glancing to Clarence and the others. “What do you think, then? Follow a few meters behind?”
“Won’t they see us coming?”
“Not in this weather. And not if they don’t suspect it. We’ll follow the Pweboles to their hide out and send Pobo in with a message that they brought back two humans.”
“If they can even understand that…” Jace mumbles.
“Won’t they find it suspicious that Pobo is keeping us outside in the cold?” Able asks.
“Not really. Pweboles live here—they flourish in the cold. In fact,” he glances down to Pobo by his knees, “he’s probably overheating being in here. We should get going. Everyone understand the plan?”
“So the Commander and I will wait outside for them to come out?” Werzo glances to Able.
“Yes.”
Werzo makes a face to which Sampson replies, “Do not worry. They won’t get within feet of you.”
“If we take care of this tonight, can we return here?” Reid asks. “Or should we go straight to Nerwolix afterward?”
“There is no point staying here,” Qippert says, “if you feel we must free Pallooloo—”
“Pallooloo…” the Pweboles ramble in nasal union again.
“—then let us do it and be done. Afterward, we should shelter with Hozfin.”
“And be ambushed in the middle of the night again?” Sampson shakes his head. “I would prefer not.”
“He will not ambush you. We have a tribesman. He would simply need to expose himself as such and we would be spared.”
“I have made my opinion clear on you and Vix leaving early,” Sampson cups Qippert’s shoulder. “I will stay the night here with Blovid and the rest of us will depart in the morning. You may stay or you may go, but please decide quickly. I do not wish to discuss this again.” Sampson glances around, “Everyone ready?”
“I cannot leave without you and the Arizal Leader,” Qippert sighs.
“Then I suggest grabbing an extra Carring hide tonight. It will get quite chilly,” Sampson makes for the tunnel out, Pobo and the herd of Pweboles at his feet.
“Hey,” Reid nudges my side as we ride the tail end of the line, behind the Dofinikes and Rogues. “Your shoulder okay?”
“Stings a bit...nothing a little Tregmint can’t fix.”
“We’ll get some on it tomorrow.”
I lean closer as we reach the first compartment, Sampson and the others filing out through the moving rock wall. I keep my voice to a whisper, “Do you think we should leave tonight? Head back to Nerwolix?”
“I’m sure Blovid’s ready to leave.”
Reid shrugs. “Seems fine to me about it.”
“With the whole transgression thing…” I step over a pile of rubble from the Pweboles’ explosion, “…I don’t know. He seems uncomfortable. Plus, he’s not welcome there. Remember what he said at Mybyncia?”
Reid raises a brow.
“There was some history between him and the Nerwos. I wonder what happened. I wonder what this whole huge thing is between them.”
“You have a lot of questions about Sampson tonight.”
“Aren’t you curious?” I make my way out of the tunnel, chilled again.
“If it’s important, he’ll tell us.”
“I just feel like it’s the key to it all.”
“To what?”
I shrug, not even sure where I’m going with this. “Everything.”
“I don’t know if it’s the key to everything,” Reid laughs, shifting in front of me to block the incoming chill. “Something happened, yeah, but it was a hundred and fifty years ago. And now we’re facing war. Whatever it is couldn’t have been that big. We went to Nerwolix and he has no problems with going back.”
“Yeah, but that’s to the Zingfinolds, not the Nerwos.”
“So we’ll stay in the southern terrain.”
“I’m telling you… whatever it is…” I bite my lip. “It’s important.”
“What’re you guys talking about?” Able throws us a look over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” I shake my head, glancing at the white Carring hide draped over his shoulders. “Are you warm enough?”
“Ask me again in ten minutes.”
“Sorry you have to be bait.”
“Robbed me of my masculinity a little,” he laughs.
“Good thing Werzo’s used to it.”
“Yeah,” he laughs again, pulling the white fur around him tighter. “Man do I wish we brought some Hunnis with us. I hope we can do this quick and get back.”
“Depending on how far the Vermix are,” I peer out to the white opening ahead, “we might have to stay where they are.”
“Yeah,” Able nods, teeth chattering as the icy wind blows around us. “I’m not a fan of hypothermia.”
The other Rogues and Dofinikes trail behind the herd of fuzzy blue Pweboles who scurry across the snow with easy speed. Sampson keeps to the head of the line, Clarence and Blovid right behind them with a hobbling Vix and Qippert next. The Rogues all follow after, the white Carring hides blending into the pristine environment. After walking for a few minutes, Able breathes heat into his hands just as a gust of wind sends his covering flying to the ground.
Discovery at Nerwolix Page 3