by D L Frizzell
Hugh Redland’s smile contrasted the hard look in his eyes. “We just keep running into each other, don’t we kid?” He pulled his pistol out and spun the cylinders menacingly. “I didn’t notice that you unloaded my pistol back in the forest. Thanks for that, by the way. You almost got me killed.”
I glared back at him with the same hard stare.
“I loaded it again,” he said, “and this time nobody’s takin’ it away from me.”
I kicked again, this time so hard that I bent the armrest where my feet were chained together. I kicked once more and felt a weld crack. I knew a third kick would either break the armrest or break my ankles. “I won’t need a gun to kill you,” I slurred.
“Really,” Hathan-Fen broke in, “do you two have to go at each other like that? Sit down, marshal.”
Redland gave her a dirty look, and then re-holstered his pistol and came in without arguing.
I missed something Norio said just then, on account that I was so unfocused. I figured he was somehow rationalizing Redland’s presence for me. Norio was like that, always hoping for the best behavior from the worst sort of people.
“Whether or not we let you free depends on your reaction to what we say,” Hathan-Fen told me, apparently finishing whatever thought Norio had started. “We all understand how you feel about Marshal Redland,” she said. “Believe me, he’s the last person I ever wanted to work with again.”
“Darlin’…” Redland began.
“Shut your mouth,” She barked, throwing him a look that would freeze the Volcanic Riftlands.
Redland made a motion of zipping his lips.
I smiled. I was still mad as hell, but that was also funny. I scowled at myself. It really wasn’t funny.
“A lot has happened since you left Celestial City last year, Alex,” Hathan-Fen continued, “especially in the last month. We have reason to believe that the T’Neth are getting ready to attack us.”
My smile faded. “The hell you say.” I pulled my legs in to kick the armrest again, but the train rocked, and I fell onto the floor instead. I landed at a bad angle, so that my face hit the cold metal floor while my feet were still chained to the armrest. The shackles were digging into my wrists, so I let out a frustrated growl of pain.
Redland leaned over and lifted me back onto the bench. I felt like a sack of rocks, but I still would have bitten his nose off if he got close enough. “How’s the thumb,” I sneered.
Redland reflexively glanced at his left hand. He still wore the glove with the wooden peg on it. He kept his mouth shut, surprisingly, and pointed me toward Hathan-Fen.
“Redland brought us this information shortly after you passed through CC last month,” Hathan-Fen said.
“Asshole,” I mumbled. I turned back to the major. “Wait, what information?”
“Aren’t you listening, Alex?” Hathan-Fen demanded. “Just shut your mouth for a damned minute. The entire T’Neth race is after us, and we don’t have time for your squabble with Redland!”
“Is that what you’ve been doing lately?” I spat at Redland. “Spying on the T’Neth?”
I heard another voice just then. T’Neth are dangerous, Alex. Please listen. I looked around the tiny cabin, confused because there were only four of us there.
“They are not what you think,” Norio told me. “The T’Neth outnumber us by ten to one.”
“Ten to one?” I said.
Hathan-Fen stared at me. “Maybe more. Show him the tunnel, marshal.”
Redland pressed a large button on the wall. Behind the crisscrossed metal bands at the other end of the compartment, an electric bulb clicked on. Its light revealed a bullet-shaped window that ran around the cabin’s diameter. The cabin’s floor extended halfway into the rounded cone, where it supported a stripped-down metal housing and the skeleton of an old piloting console.
“This is the nose cone from an old aircraft,” I said.”
“Part of it is,” Hathan-Fen said. “Most of it is of T’Neth origin.”
“Okay, you’ve mixed their junk with ours,” I said. “So what?”
“You only see what is inside the train,” Norio said. “It takes a few moments for the outside lamp to heat up.” He raised a gloved hand to point into the darkness on the other side of the window.
I stared at Norio’s hands, wondering how he’d gotten his gloves back on. It usually took him several minutes to lace each one up to his elbow, but I missed that part of his ritual completely.
A floodlight came to life in the nose cone, temporarily blinding me. As electric lights go, it was the brightest I’d ever seen, and definitely the biggest. It sat inside the housing at the tip of the windshield. Thought it pointed outward, I could feel heat radiating back into the cabin. A blazing silver glow reflected off the console where the paint had worn off the piloting console, burned away by a welder’s torch and dotted with rivets. It took my eyes a minute to filter out the glare. It took my much longer to comprehend what I saw on the other side of the window.
When I first awoke, I’d guessed we were moving about thirty kilometers per hour. That’s how fast the maglev train to Edgewood traveled, anyway. What I saw through the nose cone made me feel even dizzier than I already was. The tunnel, perfectly circular in cross section, composed of blue metal, sped past the train in a blur. It stretched into the distance ahead of us in a perfectly straight line. Even at the limits of the light’s powerful glare, the tunnel still moved so fast that I couldn’t make out any details. I stared, mesmerized.
The whole train suddenly bounced, jarring the floor and the walls violently. Mechanical linkages protested in the compartment beyond the door. I fell on the floor again with Hathan-Fen and Norio nearly landing on me. Redland swore vehemently and grabbed metal handholds against the wall. The cabin rolled side to side for a sickening minute, but eventually leveled out. The vibrations subsided back to their normal levels, though with an added grating sound coming from somewhere past the bulkhead.
“Damn,” was the only word I managed to get out.
“That was unexpected,” Hathan-Fen said, looking nervously around the compartment as she rose from her knees. “Marshal, you’d better check with the driver.”
“He’ll let us know if there’s a problem,” Redland said, and lifted me back on the bench again, not at all concerned with being gentle about it.
Hathan-Fen scowled at him.
“We thought the alien race that built this tunnel abandoned Arion long ago,” Norio told me. “They did not. The T’Neth were the architects, and they never left.”
“The T’Neth? That’s ridiculous,” I said, still staring through the windshield. I wanted to throw up.
“They are not human,” Norio added.
“You’re telling me,” I replied. Twisting to face Redland, I said, “you told them about the caravan?”
“They’re inhuman, alright,” Redland said. “That’s because they’re not human. As in…alien.”
Whatever had given me an exaggerated sense of humor earlier had completely worn off. I felt my indignation against Redland coming back to full force. “You’re one to talk, Redland,” I said. “You’re as inhuman as they come.”
“I’ve seen the proof, kid,” Redland stated, wedging one boot against my ribs when I almost fell off the bench again. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“You’re here because you want something,” I shot back, jerking my body against his boot to push it away. Turning to Norio I said, “Do you hear yourself? If the T’Neth were aliens, and if they’ve been here so long, then why did they let the Founders land? Why aren’t they flying around in spaceships? The whole notion is ridiculous.”
“These are some of the many questions we have not been able to answer,” Norio admitted. “I do not believe they are savages, however.”
“You apparently don’t think Redland’s a savage, either,” I mocked.
“I am a savage,” Redland said. “I intend it so.”
“Everyone knows the T’Net
h came from the solar system,” I said, enunciating slowly to make my words clear. “They figured if they could survive the heat on Mercury, then they could do just as well in Arion’s northern hemisphere.”
“That is what you were taught in school,” Norio said. “It is what humans have believed for generations.”
“How’d you learn this, Norio?” I asked. “Last I heard, the T’Neth weren’t very talkative.” I struggled against my restraints. “Okay. If you want to talk about it, fine. Just cut me loose first.”
“I think it’s time you met our other guest,” Hathan-Fen said. “Marshal Redland, would you please ask our T’Neth friend to join us?”
Redland nodded and moved out of sight. I heard his boots tramping down the corridor until they were drowned out by the background noise.
Could they have brought Xiv along for the ride? He hadn’t been a typical T’Neth, certainly not in the normal bloodthirsty manner. Or at least I hadn’t thought so until I saw what his cohorts did to the caravaners. It wasn’t a surprise to find out Redland had worked with an enemy, but would Hathan-Fen cooperate with a T’Neth, especially after she accused them of being against us? As I recalled the memory of the caravan again, I felt sick to my stomach.
“How fast are we going?” I asked, thinking it would be wise to change the subject.
“About eight hundred kilometers per hour.” Hathan-Fen said.
I forgot my queasiness for the moment. “What?”
“It’s the truth,” she shrugged.
I could tell in her eyes that she wasn’t pulling my leg. “In this wreck?” I said.
“It will take a full hour to stop,” Norio said in his usual calm tone.
Redland’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, getting closer until his shoulders bumped into both sides of the door.
I don’t want to go in, I heard someone say.
“I don’t want to go in,” the voice repeated behind Redland.
Redland leaned back to let the petite figure pass him in the narrow corridor. Her hood and goggles covered her face, framed by tangled locks of brown hair. She hesitated, so Redland pushed her into the compartment. “Go on,” he told her.
“Alex,” Hathan-Fen said, “meet a T’Neth.”
“Kate?” I stammered.
I’m sorry, Alex.
“I’m sorry, Alex.”
Chapter Twelve
“Did you all lose your minds?” I laughed. “Kate is not a T’Neth!”
“T’Neth females are somewhat different than the males,” Norio explained in his usual scholarly manner. “For example, their stature is close to that of their human counterparts. Male T’Neth are quite tall, as you know, and would never blend in with human society. A less obvious difference is that males have one more set of ribs than females do. These are mere physical attributes, however. The most important difference is mental. T’Neth minds are vastly different from human minds.”
“Different how?” I said. “Boil it down to something simple.”
“We’re not a hundred percent sure,” Hathan-Fen said, her tone strangely flat and calculated.
“That’s a little vague,” I said.
“You should consider what you know of Kate,” Norio told me. “Have you never suspected that she is a T’Neth?”
“Based on what?” I asked. “You claim their minds are different, but can’t say how. Fine, let’s think about Kate for a minute. Did she live in the desert most of her life? Sure. Is she anti-social? Yeah, but I am too. Is she a killer? No. Is she a T’Neth? No. She sure as hell ain’t an alien. More like a sunbaked nut. Just ask anybody who’s ever dealt with her.”
I felt a pang of guilt for berating her like that, even though I’d repeated those words to myself many times over the last year. I looked at her for any hint of pain caused by my words. She seemed just as stoic as ever. In fact, the way she shook her head made me think she pitied me.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I muttered.
Kate got down on one knee and lowered her goggles so that I could see into her blue-green eyes.
I am T’Neth, Alex.
“I am T’Neth, Alex,” Kate said.
“No need to repeat yourself,” I said, frowning. “I heard you the first time.”
“She didn’t repeat herself,” Hathan-Fen said.
“Yes, she did,” I laughed, astounded at the Major’s bald-faced contradiction.
“I can’t hear Alex,” Kate said.
“That’s good?” Redland asked.
“Yes,” Norio replied.
“No,” Kate disagreed.
“What are you talking about?” I said, getting exasperated. “You can hear me fine.” I turned to the others. “This is how Kate’s been from the day we first met her. You all know this.”
Can you hear me, Alex?
“Of course, I can!”
Everyone in the compartment got very quiet. I stared at Kate. I could have sworn her lips hadn’t moved when she spoke. Maybe it was the hit I took on the head. Head injuries make people irritable, which was definitely true in this case. I wasn’t going to answer any more questions.
“I can’t hear either one of them now,” Hathan-Fen told Norio.
“That is not necessarily a concern,” Norio replied. “Alex is not talkative when he is angry.”
I glared at Norio and thought, I’m angry alright.
“Maybe I hit him on the head too hard,” Redland guessed.
“Sonofabitch!” I yelled at Redland, and then kicked again. This time the armrest broke loose. I jumped up and managed not to fall over from the dizziness that swam through my head.
Redland drew his pistol and shoved the barrel against my chest. “We’ll have no trouble here unless you start it, Alex.”
“I didn’t start it!” I shouted. “You kidnapped me! Remember these?” As I spun around to show him I was still handcuffed, the train lurched and I fell over backward. Kate moved out of the way and I landed on my back. It hurt like hell.
“Bringing you along was a necessary evil,” Norio said calmly. “We did not know if you were yourself.”
“If I were myself? Who else would I be?” I seethed through gritted teeth. “If anything, I’m the only one around here acting like myself. Norio, you and Hathan-Fen never used to get along. Kate cut Redland’s thumb off. Now you’re all cozied up together and think I’m the one acting strangely?”
No reply from any of them.
“Alex, what did you hear Kate say a moment ago?” Hathan-Fen asked pointedly.
“You heard what she said,” I shot back.
“Remind me,” Hathan-Fen said.
“This is stupid,” I snapped. “You’ve got issues with me, Major. I get that. I’ve got issues with you, too, but whatever idea Redland’s gotten into your head about the T’Neth, he’s playing you for a fool. I’d rather not play along myself, so I’ll get off this train at the next stop, thank you very much. You can do whatever the hell you want after that.”
Norio folded his gloved fingers together with maddening serenity. “Alex, you will remain with us until such time that we can convince you there is a real threat, and convince ourselves that you are not part of it.”
I was at a complete loss. How could I possibly reason with these lunatics? If they insisted on sharing this paranoid delusion about the T’Neth being part of an alien race, then it only reinforced my decision to leave Celestial City. Aliens were real once, that was generally accepted by everybody. No one knew what they looked like because there were no images, and none of their cities survived when that asteroid turned the whole damn planet on its side. Other than the pieces of blue metal scattered around Arion, there was no evidence those aliens ever existed. Was Kate a T’Neth? Come to think of it, she talked almost as strangely as Xiv did, but they were both sunbaked lunatics as far as I was concerned.
“You brought me along, not vice versa,” I said, ending the conversation. Realizing I still had my hat on, I lay on the floor and hoisted my feet onto the b
ench. “Get out,” I demanded, “and turn off that damn light.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the floor to push the hat over my face.
They actually listened to me for once. After a few hushed whispers, the train’s massive headlight went dark. I heard a wire being twisted overhead, and the glow of the chemical light shifted toward the door. Feet shuffled around me and the door closed again, this time with the sound of a deadbolt sliding home on the other side. It was completely dark and quiet, save for the creaking linkages and the muffled sound of wind outside.
First thing to do, I thought, was to get the shackles off. Not bothering to open my eyes, I felt inside the back lining of my belt where I kept a few small tools. They were still there. Good.
Now that I was alone, I could think. This whole situation revolved around the T’Neth somehow, regardless how absurd Hathan-Fen’s alien theory was. In past years, I’d heard how T’Neth mercenaries killed indiscriminately. I’d also witnessed personally how a T’Neth could save a life. My life. And then I’d seen them slaughter a caravan of innocent merchants. The T’Neth were as fickle and prone to violence as the rest of us, so how could they be anything but human? This had to be a deception, I told myself. Redland’s involvement makes that a no-brainer. Still, there was something sinister going on. I had hoped my reconnaissance at the scrap yard would provide answers, but now I just had more questions.
A strange narrative sounded in my head. The T’Neth are real. They are coming.
I visualized an army of T’Neth marching out of the desert to destroy Celestial City. Why would they do that? I asked myself.
They will be multitudes. They will be merciless.
The T’Neth are killers, I thought, but they don’t care about anything. They’ve never been anything other than small-time mercenaries.
All people will die.
I searched my mind for a reason but couldn’t find one. We’ve had nothing they’ve wanted for five hundred years. If that’s changed, then what caused it?
It’s my fault.
No, it isn’t, I told myself.
“It’s my fault,” Kate’s voice whispered.
I startled and sat up quickly. As my hat fell forward into my lap, I saw a pair of glowing blurs in the darkness above me.