by Joel Babbitt
As Soar sat next to Priest on the hilltop watching the light spring suddenly over the eastern horizon, he reflected on how he had almost died the night before. Indeed, if Doc Pastore had not been there with the amazingly advanced equipment that the humans seemed to have in abundance he would have died. He was thankful for the foresight of his ancestors and fingered the life-stick that hung about his neck—and also counted his blessings from a Creator that Priest said had obviously prepared a way for him to survive the challenges of the night before.
As the pair of yazri finished their meditations and prayers, they looked out over the plains on the other side of the promontory from their camp and saw a line of six heavy skimmers, all covered in thick plasteel plating, wending their way along a trail that led out from the tall forests to the east. Broken from his reverie by the sight of the convoy, Soar stood up suddenly and turned, running back down the hill to alert the rest of the group rather than just announcing what he saw by linker; for all the tech that surrounded him Soar was still a yazri, and the tall monkey-like race was almost universally primitive.
By the time the convoy arrived the company was standing tall and ready for anything; the colonel was of the opinion that the eastern continent was not a place to make assumptions and let down one’s guard. The extra precautions soon were proven unnecessary, however.
As the heavy vehicles rolled up one by one a tall, older man of dignified bearing stepped out of the armored passenger door of the lead vehicle. His authoritative bearing and the way the soldiers around him seemed to defer to him quickly identified him as the leader of the group. His uniform was typical for the colonies, camouflage nano-weave with black plating to cover the vital areas, but square in the center of his chest was the insignia of the eagle.
“Colonel Baker,” Colonel Alexander nodded his greeting stoically.
The new arrival’s face broke into a well-practiced smile as he stepped forward and grasped Colonel Alexander’s outstretched hand and put his other hand on Alexander’s shoulder. “If it isn’t my old friend Marshal Alexander! However have you been, Marshal?”
“Well enough, Conrad,” Alexander replied. “Though me and my crew here have been through quite a bit in the last few days.”
“So I hear!” the large man laughed heartily. “Come, let’s load up and get underway,” he gestured expansively, “you can tell me all about it on the way back to Terra Alta.”
As the two colonels began walking off toward the vehicles Weapons Sergeant Thompson immediately broke the reverie, shouting and cajoling the group into motion. Within moments the yazri and specialists were all carrying transit cases full of supplies toward the one cargo carrier the detachment from Terra Alta had brought with them while Captain Washington was conferring on their route with the lieutenant who had run the convoy.
Not knowing what else to do, Jim Ryker and Wolfman pitched in and started carrying things toward the cargo truck while Doc Pastore slowly drug her own equipment toward the one combat vehicle whose gunner looked to be female under all the armor and gear she wore.
* * *
Jim Ryker hadn’t known what to expect on the eastern continent, but a veritable paradise filled with lush vegetation and animals of every type and description weren’t what he’d heard. Yes, the dinosaurs were what everyone who didn’t live there thought of when Camallay’s eastern continent was mentioned, for that matter those who lived there often thought of little else when outside their colony’s perimeter as well. But there was a primordial beauty to the place that quickly captured Ryker’s eye, and after several hours of skimming along the river that led from the coast all the way to Terra Alta Colony, which lay near its headwaters, the place had begun to capture Jim’s heart as well.
Herd after herd of crested megavores chewing on the reeds that thickened the bank of the great river stood huddling in family groups on the shore and watched with passive interest as the convoy sped along mid-river. In the sky the occasional swordwing would slide through the sky on its eternal hunt, while in the river fish the size of a man could be seen cresting from time to time.
Much of this same wildlife existed on the western continent, but the larger animals had all been hunted to extinction quickly after the initial settlements had been established there; one continent was good enough for the dinosaurs the reasoning had gone. Jim wasn’t so sure he agreed with that reasoning—but he also knew that on the western continent no one lived in fear of dinosaurs. The same could not be said of those on the eastern continent.
Shaking his head as he came out of his ponderings, Ryker keyed the microphone on his vehicle headset.
“So, anyone want to tell me about Terra Alta Colony?” he asked.
On the other side of the gunner’s station from him, a young specialist in heavy armor with full combat gear turned uncomfortably and looked at Ryker. “Well, sir,” he started after he saw that the sergeant in the front seat wasn’t going to speak, “I don’t know as how there’s much to tell. We’re one of the original six colonies established by the Camallay Unity Government out here. Terra Alta was placed where it is because it’s the closest naturally defensible location to the glitter mines.”
From the front seat the sergeant turned around and gave the specialist a stern look through his shaded goggles.
“Sorry, sir. I mean the bilandrium mines at the ancient super volcano,” the specialist corrected himself.
“Well, okay,” Ryker said. “I guess there is something to tell after all.”
“You guys should know that, don’t you? After all, most of the freighters we load the ore on are Marik Corp freighters,” the specialist said.
Ryker rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m not into the shipping end of the business, though. I’m from corporate security.”
The sergeant turned his head at that. “What they doing sending a security guy out here?” he asked.
“Well, you heard about how someone sunk our cargo ship out in the North Sea, right?” Ryker asked.
“Yeah,” answered the sergeant, “So what? I thought it was separatists that did it.”
“That’s what we thought at first too,” Ryker replied, “but it’s looking more like Principay Colony did it. It looks like they’re trying to start a war.”
Now even the driver was looking at Ryker.
“No joke!” Ryker said, his hands up in a gesture of earnestness. “Why else would we be out here?”
“Don’t say that, man,” the sergeant pled. “My girl’s up in Principay. If there’s gonna be a war, that will mess everything up.”
“Ah, man, my kid sister’s up in Far Point,” the specialist said. “You don’t think Principay is stupid enough to go after Far Point’s mines, do you?”
Ryker just shrugged. “I don’t know, but that ship was carrying military equipment for Far Point Colony. Got any other ideas why they would want to sink it?”
They all groaned as the implications of what Ryker was saying hit them.
“You know they gonna pull us into their war, sergeant,” the specialist said.
“We’ll see,” the sergeant replied. “Colonel Baker’s a smart man. We gotta give him a chance to help sort this out.”
“Yeah, but if he fails, you know it’s gonna be guns,” the specialist replied.
“Yeah,” the sergeant sighed. “I know.”
* * *
By the time the convoy reached the tall plasteel gates of Terra Alta Colony it was almost noon. The sun hung high in the clear blue sky as they entered the clearing and watched as the crew-served sonic cannons swung their direction from the heavily plated towers on either side of the gates. As they got closer the massive gates started to open and the convoy shot through, only slowing down once they entered the ‘landing strip’ as Terra Altans called the fenced in area just inside the gate where their secondary defenses were set up. Ryker was impressed. If there was one thing the Terra Altans took seriously, it was their security.
“Sergeant Thompson,” Colonel Alexan
der called as they all emerged from the heavy skimmers.
“Yes, sir!” the muscle-bound black sergeant replied.
“Colonel Baker here has been kind enough to lend us the use of one of his staging compounds. Would you please be so kind as to accompany the cargo skimmer and ensure our equipment is offloaded there?”
Thompson immediately went into sergeant-mode. Within seconds all the specialists and the yazri were gathered up and were jogging along the tall perimeter fence toward a fenced-in huddle of airy buildings a few hundred meters away. Seeing the rest of the group going that way, Doc Pastore trudged along behind them while Wolfman went looking for a replacement linker, situence glasses, and a few other things that had been in his bag in the back of the jetcar.
Ryker, on the other hand, was curious. Coming up behind Captain Washington and the colonels, he came walking up just as the two colonels were finishing their discussion.
“I’m sorry Marshal, I just can’t spare the skimmers,” Colonel Baker was saying.
“Conrad, you mean to tell me after all these years of building your colony that you don’t have just two skimmers squirrelled away that we can use,” Colonel Alexander was needling him. “And how about a quadcopter? Surely you have one of those we can use. We’ll pay for them. You know Marik’s good for it.”
“Marshal,” Colonel Baker held up his hand, “I can’t promise anything. Times are tight out here in the colonies. You know that. We haven’t struck a vein of bilandrium for almost three months now, and the precious stones aren’t enough to keep us in business out here. I need all the vehicles I have. For that matter, I really need about two more.”
Alexander just nodded as he sized up his fellow colonel. “So that’s it, is it? You’ll give me two now if I deliver four later?”
Colonel Baker tried to calm his companion down. “Just think about it, Marshal. That’s all I’m asking. You’re not the only one in dire straits out here.”
Colonel Alexander kept his cool and gave his ‘friend’ a terse smile before turning and walking briskly away.
“Sir, you’re not going to agree to that, are you?” Captain Washington asked as they followed the rest of the company toward the staging compound. “That’s highway robbery.”
Ryker walked along behind the pair of officers with his hands in his pockets saying nothing. He’d broken a lot of things and created a lot of messes in his time, yet his uncle Marik had always seemed to come through for him. He wondered if, perhaps, Marik might just agree to such a trade. He doubted it, though, since Marik’s trade operations on Camallay had been severely hampered by the loss of the MCS Venture. Just based on cost, his guess was that Marik would choose to have the vehicles built and shipped over the Glass Sea via hover truck instead, which would take weeks but be less than half the cost.
“I don’t know, Shannon,” Colonel Alexander replied. “I think we borrow their holodimmer and see if we can’t get Marik’s Operations folks to send us what we need from the western continent, unless Marik doesn’t want to wait a couple of weeks to get them built and shipped over here and wants to spend the money instead.”
Ryker grimaced and shook his head. Looking down at his pocket dimmer, he read the last text from Rianna one more time. He desperately wanted to find out why she had been traveling toward Principay Colony, and if they didn’t get moving soon he was likely to lose her again.
Looking around, Ryker caught a glimpse of what he thought was the maintenance garage for Terra Alta’s vehicle fleet and headed straight for it.
Titus Brutian
Chapter Eight
Rianna Firstwave’s raven-colored locks swirled behind her as she pulled her helmet off and alighted from the extended-range quadcopter she had flown over the North Sea all the way from Timmok Province. She was dressed all in thick black nano-weave, and on her side was an Mk-12 blaster pistol. As she strode purposefully toward the bottom of the stairs up to Principay’s command center her eyes were singular in their purpose, her rage simmering.
“Rianna, what a pleasure,” a hard, cold voice came from the railing above her.
Stopping, Rianna looked up into the face of the very person she had come to confront. “What was the meaning of that!” Rianna’s voice was full of barely-restrained fury.
Above her on the platform stood none other than Josh Langdon, once a closely trusted Marik Marauder’s officer and now lead rep for Stellar Corp, the power still propping up Titus Brutian’s reign, and he was completely unintimidated.
“Now Rianna,” he started, lifting one hand from the long gun he habitually wore on the front of his heavy armor harness. “You knew when you signed on for this gig that we were going after Marik’s operations here on Camallay.”
Rianna’s face contorted in rage. “You lied to me! You said you just needed details of their operations, that’s it! You were going to disrupt their operations, you said, but you used my reconnaissance video to attack them… with robobombs of all things! You killed tens of innocent people! How dare you lay that at my feet!”
“Well, what did you expect girl, for us to ‘beat them to the next contract’ or some other such nonsense?” Josh scoffed. “Commander Brutian has taken the gloves off. He’s done with this silly dance Marik insists on playing. It’s time for Principay and Stellar Corp to take what is rightfully ours. Now, you can either be a part of that, or you can go away.”
Rianna was furious beyond words, but even in that state she couldn’t forget the reason she had first come to Principay weeks ago, so she clamped her lips tight and turned on her heels, stalking away from the command tower in a huff.
Behind her, Josh just laughed and shook his head. “Too easy,” he muttered as he walked back into the command center.
* * *
Alyssa clanked around in the kitchen, clumsily getting out dishes and scooping the scrambled eggs as they came out of the fabricator, almost dropping the clear plasteel cup as she took it from the juice port on the device. She was nervous and it showed in her pinched eyes as much as in her shuffling gate and hunched shoulders as she brought breakfast out to the little table in the breakfast nook of her insta-fab house, almost tripping on the mousy little sweeperbot as she did so.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Alyssa apologized as she sat tentatively, “the fabricator’s been acting up lately. I keep meaning to get that fixed…”
Rianna placed a hand on her sister-in-law’s hand, the unexpected touch causing Alyssa to stop her words and look up into Rianna’s eyes.
“Alyssa, please,” Rianna said. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s alright.”
Alyssa’s nervous look seemed momentarily mixed with a sullen joy, though she said nothing, just began picking at her eggs with a fork.
“You’ve not been eating well,” Rianna observed.
Alyssa smiled a wan smile. “Titus says he likes me skinny.”
Rianna looked at Alyssa and was amazed at the change that the past two years had wrought on the young woman she had once known, the young woman who had become a widow in the same accident that had killed Rianna’s husband.
“What do you want?” Rianna asked.
Alyssa picked at her eggs for a few moments more before answering. “I guess to make him happy.”
Rianna ate some eggs, watching her sister-in-law. She had seen the bruises on Alyssa’s thighs when she had sat down in her knee-length shorts, and now as she sat chewing she could see the ragged edge of a deep blue bruise peeking from underneath Alyssa’s sleeve. It was more than Rianna could ignore.
“Why do you let him beat you?” she asked.
Alyssa’s eyes shot open momentarily, but she quickly regained her composure and actually ate a forkful of eggs. After a few moments she shook her head tentatively. “He doesn’t beat me, I’m just clumsy,” she lied reflexively. She began to laugh nervously. “Why just yesterday I was in the garden, and when little Cammy crawled in front of me I…”
Rianna cut her off with a hand on her arm. Her look was i
ntense as she stared into the haunted eyes of the girl who was her sister-in-law, and who had once been her best friend before Titus Brutian had stolen her away and made her his third plural wife.
“Alyssa, please. You don’t have to lie to me. You were my bridesmaid… my best friend! Have these last two years made strangers out of us? Alyssa, I love you. Please, you can tell me the truth.”
Alyssa’s nervous laughter stopped cold and in her eyes the first tears began to well up, but as soon as they started she turned off her emotions and cut them off.
“No, Rianna,” Alyssa said in a low, broken voice. “I can’t. You don’t know what it’s been like for me these past two years since Robert died. Living here with Titus… I have to look out for my little girls. They’re all I have left of Robert!”
Straightening up, Alyssa continued. “I chose this life,” she said, her attempts to justify her second husband’s brutal behavior bringing out well-scripted defenses. “Besides, he provides well for all of his wives. And he is the commander of this whole colony, and that’s a very stressful job. You have to understand that.”
Rianna looked into eyes that looked so much like the eyes of Alyssa’s brother, Rianna’s deceased husband. The family resemblance was uncanny and drove a dagger through her heart. “You’re wrong, Alyssa. I do know. My husband was on that ship too. Not a day goes by that I don’t ache for Mark… that I don’t wonder why me?”
“Please!” Alyssa’s shrill plea cut Rianna’s words short. After a moment, Alyssa turned away and quietly spoke words that weren’t her own. “Please, Rianna. I can’t think of the past. I can’t spend my days thinking of my dead brother and my dead husband. They were good men, but they’re dead. My life is here now, with Titus. He is my husband now, and someday he’ll be a good father to my three girls. I have to believe that.”