by Gary Hoover
“A small group boarded the pheerion flagship.”
“Jeff was in that group?” Tom asked.
Artimus nodded. “He was. The group boarded the ship, discovered a ‘key’ to the shield and gun, removed the key and, effectively, disabled the pheerions ability to wage war.”
“And what happened to that key?”
“My understanding is that the Doclotnurians have been searching for it in the ocean but haven’t yet found it... as far as I know.”
Tom nodded and paused. Artimus hoped that they had sufficiently covered that line of questioning.
“Governor Duanan has pardoned you regarding any wrongdoing related to the breakout and your involvement in the battle. Do you consider yourself a traitor?”
Artimus laughed, but it came out slightly awkwardly, and creepy, and not nearly as spontaneous or genuine-sounding as Artimus would have liked. Codi is sitting in a room somewhere cringing. He hadn’t yet been able to discuss any of the things he wanted to discuss but, instead, was being grilled about things that he had hoped to avoid.
“No. No, I don’t think I’m a traitor.”
“The governing council voted not to get involved, yet you chose to get involved yourself. By violating the will of the council, weren’t you being seditious?”
Control your temper, control your temper, control your temper.
“When there are... tough... decisions to be made, good people often find themselves on opposite sides of particular issues, and both sides can have very justifiable reasons to choose the particular side they do.”
Artimus paused. I don’t want to imply that I’m morally superior to people who disagree with me, but I believe in what I’m doing. I need to convince people. Damn, I wish I was better at this.
“I think that my actions have been consistent. I argued that we needed to help the Doclotnurians, and when most disagreed with me, I let them do as they would and set off to do what I could. I didn’t anticipate that my actions would have any detrimental effect on those who disagreed, and in retrospect, I don’t see any detrimental effects now.”
Tom was nodding, and Artimus felt he was finally getting his feet underneath him.
“Where do we go from here?” Tom asked.
This was the opportunity Artimus was waiting for.
“I think the pheerions are still a threat. I feel we won one small battle, but that was just the beginning. We need to work with the Doclotnurians to put together a solid defense against future attacks, and I feel that only a united effort will be strong enough to deter future attacks.”
For the first time during the interview, Artimus had a good feeling. That’s what I wanted to say. Now it’s out there. Good!
“Some might say that, given your involvement with the Doclotnurians and previous attempts to bring the societies together, you might have personal, selfish reasons for pushing such an agenda.”
So much for the good feeling.
Chapter 19:
By the time Jeff and the others had left the eatery, the sun was just beginning to set, and there was an eerie quiet in the streets.
Jeff had a strong sense that something wasn’t right. He put his hand on Dave’s arm and pulled to indicate they should stop.
“What?” Dave asked.
“Something’s wrong... I feel like... ”
Dave rolled his eyes. “Is this more of that Raja plooch?”
There were several people in the street. One of the hooded men from the restaurant was ahead of them and to the right. He seemed to be wandering somewhat aimlessly, but he was also maintaining his position relative to the group.
Jeff nudged Dave and nodded in the direction of the man. “What do you make of him? Something doesn’t feel right to me.”
Dave considered the man, and Jeff expected him to scoff.
He didn’t.
Instead, he glared at the man.
The man seemed to notice Dave’s glare, but didn’t respond in any particular way. He didn’t match his glare, but he didn’t look away either. Jeff’s uncomfortable feeling intensified, and he felt his stomach turning over.
Dave headed toward him. “Well, if he’s up to something, I’m not going to back down,” Dave said.
They say the human body is seventy percent water? Not Dave, he’s got to be at least ninety percent testosterone.
When Dave was within about ten feet of him, the man pulled a gun. Jeff and Dave went for their guns, but before they could draw, they realized they were surrounded by six other similarly dressed goons, who all had high-powered weapons pointed at them.
While their attention was occupied with the man in front of them, the others had closed from the sides.
“What do you want?” Dave growled.
“Not you, fatty, but we’ve only been paid to take one of you back. If you and the others stay calm, we’re going to shackle all of you for our safety, but we’ll leave the rest of you – either in shackles or dead. Your choice.”
“Who are you after?” Dave asked belligerently. Jeff noticed his eyes dart over toward Rasp.
The man stepped forward and looked Dave in the eye, then quickly scanned the rest of the group.
He took one more step and then smashed Dave across the face with his gun. “You’re not in any position to ask questions.”
Benji lunged forward with intense ferocity. He charged the hooded man and roared loudly. The combination of his roar and the thumping of his heavy footfalls vibrated Jeff’s intestines.
Benji pounced on the man and forced him to the ground. Chaos erupted, and the other hooded gunmen began to back off, wanting to put some distance between them and the ferocious beast before taking additional action.
Rasp jumped toward the man to his left, and Dave went for the one to his right. That left four men behind Jeff, Baldwin and Nahima. One of those four fired at Benji, and Benji let out a loud howl when the shot burned into his left shoulder. Jeff returned fire and hit the gunman in the shoulder.
The now injured man and his three companions began a rapid pull-back. They kept their weapons aimed but didn’t fire any more shots.
Nahima, Baldwin and Jeff watched them as they retreated. When the four men were far enough away not to be a threat any longer, Jeff turned back to take stock of what was going on with the others. Benji seemed to have easily overcome the leader and was growling at his unmoving form. Jeff had the sick feeling that the man was dead.
Rasp seemed to have his opponent under control, but Dave looked to be in trouble.
Jeff aimed his gun at Dave’s opponent but didn’t have a clear shot. He moved closer, but before he could get nearer, Rasp realized what was going on and left his man to help Dave.
The man who had been fighting Rasp rose shakily to his feet and Jeff aimed his gun at him, afraid he would take advantage of the distraction and attack Rasp from behind. But instead of attacking, he hit a button on his sleeve and rockets ignited in his shoes. He rose slowly but then picked up speed as he ascended. Jeff heard a sound behind him and saw the other four also levitating with the help of rocket-propelled boots. When they had put enough distance between themselves and Jeff’s group, Jeff’s attention went back to Dave and the man he was fighting.
Rasp had arrived, and he savagely attacked the man using claws and teeth. Dave was left sitting in the dust as the other two grappled, but the fight didn’t last long. Blood sprayed and there were sickening sounds of bones cracking as the man went limp.
It appeared they now had two dead men, and an eerie silence replaced what had been a fierce battle just moments before. Jeff could see townspeople, who had been watching from a distance, now slowly approaching.
Dave reached over, lifted the arm of the man he had been fighting, and then let it fall lifelessly back to the dirt.
“You two have a few things to learn about interrogation,” he said to Benji and Rasp. “It’s tough to find out what a dead man knew.” He turned his head to look over his shoulder at the approaching, curious crowd. “
I hope these weren’t friends of theirs.”
Chapter 20:
As the crowd converged, Jeff held a hand out to Dave and helped him to his feet. “Now what?” Jeff asked.
Dave surveyed the faces that comprised the approaching horde. “Don’t know,” he said as he put a hand on his holstered gun.
The rest of their group gathered around Jeff and Dave, looking for some direction.
“Let’s be ready to fight our way out,” Dave said. “Better to go out swinging than take our chances with whatever passes for justice around here.”
Dave kept his eyes on the approaching crowd as he backed slowly but steadily toward the city gate that was at least 500 feet away. The others tried to match his movements, keeping a watch on the crowd while watching Dave from their peripheral vision.
“Should we run for it?” Jeff asked.
Dave shook his head. “Let’s not try to trigger anything or make them jumpy. Just keep moving.”
The tall bearded man Jeff had noticed glaring at them at the restaurant began to separate himself from the crowd and close the distance between himself and Jeff’s group. He wore a side-arm, but it wasn’t drawn.
“I think he’s the law,” Dave said mainly, to Jeff but loudly enough for the others to hear.
The man had his hands in front of him. Jeff interpreted it as a gesture indicating that he didn’t intend harm.
“I don’t think he’s after us,” Jeff said.
“You willing to bet your life on that?” Dave asked pointedly.
No, Jeff thought as he increased his pace a bit.
“Friends! Friends!” the tall man said in a loud, clear voice. “We mean you no harm. Do you have a moment to talk?”
Jeff looked at Dave who seemed unsure.
Dave stopped but kept his hand on his gun. The others stopped as well and their eyes went back and forth from the tall man to Dave.
“I don’t know,” Dave said quietly to the others with clear apprehension in his voice. “The rest of the crowd seems to be hanging back. Probably couldn’t hurt to have a word. The rest of you stay alert, but don’t draw your weapons unless things go wrong.” He paused and looked directly at Jeff. “Jeff, why don’t you come with me?”
Jeff felt both honored... and terrified.
Chapter 21:
“Welcome friend. Welcome to our little town,” the tall man said as he shook Dave’s hand. “I’m Marshal Palmer. You’re not leaving already, are you?”
Dave didn’t answer immediately but seemed to be thinking things through. “Well... uh... we haven’t been feeling real welcome since we’ve arrived.” He looked pointedly up the street toward the dead men, who were no longer visible through the crowd.
“I apologize on behalf of any locals. We sometimes take a while to warm up to newcomers. As for them–” He turned to look at the bodies. “They’ve been nothing but trouble since they arrived. I was afraid I might have to mix it up with them. Glad you saved me the trouble. We’re setting up for a fire roast.” He pointed to an area down the street where Jeff saw some activity. “I’d like to have you stay for a while as my special guests and enjoy some good food and music.”
Dave wasn’t sure. He wasn’t one to turn down food, but he also seemed to suspect the marshal could be up to something. Jeff sensed the invitation was sincere, but he also wanted to get moving and back on the way toward The Prophet.
Dave looked at Jeff. “What do you think?”
“Sure, sounds like fun.”
Palmer walked them toward the fire pit, giving them some general town history along the way. “Over there,” he said as he pointed at the door of small, isolated building, “is where Jeter Framming shot Jeremy Thompson.”
Jeff nodded with the others. He didn’t know if they recognized the names or were simply nodding to be polite, but he had no idea who they were.
Palmer paused and pulled a large, leather pouch from his belt. Jeff was expecting chewing tobacco of some sort, but instead, he pulled out a small lizard – wiggling and clearly still alive – and popped it into his mouth.
He held the pouch out to Dave. “Tongue lizard?”
“Sure, thanks.” Dave selected one and popped it into his mouth. They both seemed to be savoring and nibbling the lizards, moving them around in their mouths rather than just eating them.
Palmer shook the bag in front of Jeff.
“Uh, no thanks,” he said awkwardly.
“Boy’s a bit flowery,” Dave said grinning.
His words were slightly garbled, and Jeff shuddered as he glimpsed the lizard still wiggling between his teeth. Jeff didn’t like being called ‘flowery’, but he wasn’t about to eat a lizard to prove he wasn’t.
Jeff looked at Palmer. From a distance, he had appeared relatively young – maybe late thirties – but close up, Jeff could see that his skin was thick and leathery. Jeff wondered if the elements had prematurely aged his skin, or maybe he was just older than his body and movements betrayed. He had brilliant blue eyes and an intent gaze. Jeff felt as if the eyes were boring into him. Not a sharp, laser penetration, but more of a slow drilling action. Jeff imagined he could feel pieces of his soul traveling up imaginary drill bits and spilling in little piles of soul dust on the ground.
“Those fellows,” Palmer said, nodding toward the general area of the bodies, “came into town a few days ago, and they’ve been miserable ever since.”
Jeff heard a loud gurgling noise and noticed a sudden change in Dave’s expression.
Dave pushed past Jeff, nearly knocking him over as he took off at a near run toward a row of outhouses.
Palmer looked after him with a bemused expression. “Tongue lizards will do that to some people.”
“Or it could be a result of eating like a complete glutton,” Nahima added.
“I should apologize,” Palmer said as he pulled another lizard from his pouch and popped it in his mouth, “for the less than civil reception you received on your arrival. You’ll find that the folks around here are good people, but it takes them a while to warm up.”
A four-piece band started playing, and the sparse, scattered crowd began to drift in their direction. Jeff found the music very interesting, similar in some ways to folk music one might have heard in the Appalachian Mountains in the early 1900s, but richer and more soulful.
“And since the start of the drought,” Palmer continued as he shielded his eyes from the glare of the setting sun, “things have been particularly rough.” He shook his head. “Sure hope things get better soon, but they just seem to be getting worse and worse. Oh wait, you have to see this part; the traditional start of the feast.” Palmer’s face transitioned from the very sober expression Jeff had seen up to that point to a childish grin.
He pointed toward the fire pit where groups of people were gathering on either side. The group on the left began speaking loudly and in near perfect unison. “Camp A, would you like to share some food?”
The other group responded, again in perfect unison, “No, you’re ugly and dirty and smelly.”
The left group responded, “So are you!”
Both groups laughed, and then people began greeting each other, shaking hands, and lifting tankards.
Chapter 22:
Artimus stared at his beer bottle as he twisted it slowly on the table then looked around at the decorations of the unfamiliar bar. Goldwin had suggested it as a quiet place they could talk without being noticed.
“I don’t know,” Artimus said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I did us much good.”
Codi put her hand on his back. “You did fine. You got the idea out there that we need to be prepared for war, and that’s the important part. Now we just have to follow up on that.”
“We need to get Duanan on our side,” Andrew said.
Artimus shook his head. “I’m afraid that might not be possible. I mean, I’ll keep working on it, but I think we have to consider alternative plans in the event we can’t get him on our side.”
&
nbsp; “If we can get him out of office, Goldwin is in line to become acting governor,” Codi said.
Artimus nodded. “That’s the page I’ve been on for a while. I think we need to start thinking of ways to get him out of office.”
“I can think of one way,” Andrew said, tapping the gun under his jacket.
Goldwin recoiled at that suggestion, but Artimus put a hand on his arm, looked him directly in the eye and said, “I don’t like it either, but we have to consider such things at least, Goldwin. We may not have any other choice.”
“Trea–” Goldwin started to say but then quickly lowered his voice. “Treason?” he said in a quiet but still very forceful voice. “You’re talking about political assassination? Overthrowing a lawfully elected governor?”
Artimus nodded somberly. “Aren’t there times when such actions are justified? If leaders are endangering their people, and the very state itself, don’t we have an obligation? Whether it’s treason or justifiable and righteous rebellion may depend on your perspective.”
Goldwin sat silently for a few moments and pondered.
“I guess it depends which side of the gun you’re on,” he said and then looked at Andrew, who sat stone-faced.
Artimus shook his head. “There’s more to it than that. There has to be. There are such things as ‘right’ and ‘wrong’.”
Chapter 23:
“So why do you think they were after us?” Jeff asked.
They had been there for many hours – nearly the whole evening Jeff estimated – but it was the first time Jeff had been able to get alone with Dave, partly because Dave had not been able to go much more than five minutes without running to the outhouse.
Dave looked over at Rasp who was occupied with a small dog, which was barking and growling angrily at him. Jeff could sense that Rasp wanted to lunge at the dog and bite it in half, but thankfully, he was controlling his urges.
“Greenie’s probably got a huge price on his head. His people probably want him BAD... for his betrayal.” Dave paused and seemed to be thinking. “Probably quite a few humans would like to get their hands on him too; find out what he knows. Artimus had to stick his neck out to get the Doclotnurians to let him go with us.”