by Damon Alan
Sarah smacked him on his upper arm. “No, quite the opposite. I want you to give Eislen his life back. Take him home.”
“Don’t we need him?”
Sarah shook her head. “Malco knows their language now, he can be our liason. Besides, we know where Eislen lives, we can reach out anytime.”
“I guess that makes sense. We can’t preach freedom and then keep him here. Sure, Captain, but... why me? The marines have pilots.”
“The marines are occupied, and I want them dedicated to whatever Commander Gilbert needs. I'd like you to be the... Captain's pilot, if you will. Eislen deserves to go home. We hurt this young man, we fixed him, and we owe him for helping us understand the local political structure. And, let's be honest, it was your AI that stabbed him through the chest in the first place.”
“Ouch,” Peter said. “You're right. You want me to use your personal shuttle?”
“You pick any one you want, as long as it's not a combat shuttle, and I will order your choice put on ready reserve for command use. Deal?”
“Deal, sir. It’ll be good to fly again.”
“You'll need to fly to the asteroid farm, pick him up, and head to Refuge from there. Take him straight home, and use the same tactic the marines are using to insert their soldiers if you can. Over the ocean, then treetop, Mr. Corriea, but know your limits. I don't want to lose you trying to do the right thing for Eislen.”
“Treetop, Captain. I just started my duty shift...”
Sarah grinned. “You're relieved. We're not moving the ships, we don't need a navigator until well after you get back. If we do, I'm pretty sure I can manage. Don't delay, take a few marines, and Malco. Corporal Vander will want a chance to say goodbye. But I want you back before Gilbert returns.”
“I can do that. I'm just dropping off, not tracking anyone down,” Corriea assured her.
And Peter, if you happen to meet up and say, make a good impression with Eislen's villagers, that wouldn't make me angry. We can use the PR.”
“I'll ask Eislen if he thinks I'd be welcome.”
“Good. I have some old navigation holos to brush up on, so get going,” Sarah said.
“Yes sir,” Corriea walked off.
Sarah half expected him to let out a whoop.
Her smile didn’t last long, however, as she walked back inside the conference room and sat down to contemplate what the unfolding days were bringing her.
I just sent the two crewmen I care about most into the spider's lair.
Chapter 20 - Captain's Personal Log
09 ORS 15327
AI Lucy82A recording, Captain's personal log, Michael Stennis archive: Galactic Standard Date 22:17:51 Ors 9, 15327
Personal log entry #761, Captain Sarah Dayson, origin Korvand, Pallus Sector.
Current Location: Star System Oasis, orbiting Fandama.
[slurring voice]
I shouldn't be drinking and putting shit on record, but my shift is over and I've seen every holovid on this ship a dozen times.
[laughter]
I’m not sure if sending Eislen home was a great idea, but I don’t think he has much to offer us directly since Vander now speaks his language. And, to be honest, he’s a goatherd. He doesn’t know much about the political structure we’re bumping into. I think sending the kid home and letting him spread word about us will serve both his and our purposes better. I want to set things right by him. He’s a good sign for our future if he’s what the non-adept locals are like.
[sound of cooler opening, a popping noise as a seal is broken]
We lost a ship, but we might be able to save the crew. Commander Gilbert is a bad ass. His muscles have muscles, right Lucy?
[a new voice, AI Lucy82A]
I wouldn't know, Captain Dayson.
[laughter, 129 second pause]
I don't know either, Lucy. But I’m going to find out. I’m going to make this world ours, and I’m going to make Gilbert mine. That’s the plan.
[728 second pause, followed by snoring]
[saved by AI as AI speaks]
Goodnight, Captain Dayson. End log file.
Chapter 21 - The Elder
14 ORS 15327
Peter sat personnel transport shuttle 43B down almost exactly where the marines picked up Eislen half a year before. In that span of time, Eislen adapted remarkably to his exposure to a technical society, although he still believed most of what he saw was supernatural in some fashion.
“I bet you're glad to be home,” Peter said to Eislen as the engines spun down.
“I'll have a lot of explaining to do to my Elders,” Eislen replied. “I'm sure they've already put my name in the dead book.”
“That's an interesting way to say it.”
“That's how it's done. Elder Miker writes your name in his book, on the list of those who are dead.”
Peter laughed. “I'm going to use that from now on. I'm glad you're not dead, it was my fault you were wounded.”
Eislen looked shocked. “What do you mean?”
“I didn't send the drone that hurt you to cause you any harm, but I did send it to get information about you. We needed to know if you're human.”
Eislen looked puzzled. “What else would I be?”
“We won't go into that.” Peter looked back toward his other passengers, two marines assigned to protect him and Malco. “We can leave the shuttle now.”
“I can't wait to put my foot on dirt,” one of the marines bellowed.
Peter shared the sentiment. He couldn't wait to stand under an open sky either. “Eislen, do you want us to go with you to your village? I’m sure Malco would love to tell your elders what happened to you, and maybe learn more about the local political structure.”
Corporal Malco raised his eyebrows. “We don’t know there aren’t any ade—”
“Come on, Malco, if Eislen says we're safe, we'll be fine. Besides, we have these two flesh walls to keep us safe, right?” Peter gestured toward the two marines.
The female marine rubbed her open hand along the side of her hip. “Lieutenant, if you take us along on the next hop down here, I'll have a baby for you.”
Peter blushed. “That won't be necessary, Sergeant.”
“What's the matter, L-T, afraid she'll break you?” the other marine asked.
In reality, Peter was a bit afraid there was some truth in the question. “Something like that,” Peter answered. “New subject. What do you think, Eislen?”
“I guess that's... We have to go while it's still dark. Miker will be grateful to you for saving me, but people will be scared of this.” Eislen patted the shuttle.
Peter grinned. “Not a problem. Nav radar put your village less than a thirty minute walk away. We can hoof it.”
“Hoof it? Does that take long?” Eislen asked.
“It is slang for walk, Eislen. It's a short walk,” Malco answered.
Eislen laughed. “Oh, not far then.”
“Speaking of hooves, something real to eat would be nice,” Malco added.
“That's the spirit, Corporal,” Peter said.
“I hadn't thought of that,” the female marine said. “You think they'd give us a few animals to take back up to the fleet?”
“Don't get ahead of yourself, Sergeant. Let's deliver our package, see him safe, and enjoy the fresh air. Night is over in seven hours. We have to be in the air and over water by then.”
“Sure. I can eat quite a bit in a few hours,” she said.
Peter laughed. “I'm sure you can.” He activated the keypad and lowered the shuttle's access ramp. “Let's go, you two lead us to the village. Nav says it's that way, although Eislen knows the best path.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later the five travelers walked into Kampana along the main road. Peter ordered the marines to stash their night vision goggles unless needed.
Eislen guided the group along the street, naming the houses and the few businesses on each side. “That’s the woodsmith, and there is Elder
Miker's house. The building past him are all homes, except for the inn and stables at the far edge of town. The inn will be closed unless there are merchants traveling through.”
“Are you going to wake up the elder?” Malco asked.
“He's used to it.” Eislen knocked on the door to Miker's house, and after a few minutes a dim light came on inside.
The door opened and Miker stepped into the door frame, then froze, a look of horror on his face.
“Hello Elder Miker,” Eislen said.
Miker backed up and tried to push the door shut.
Eislen stopped the door before it closed. “Elder Miker, these are friends. I know how this looks, but I need to come in.”
Malco followed the conversation attentively, translating for Peter. The marines briefly used their night vision goggles to inspect the street around them.
Peter thought he heard someone running away in the darkness.
“Looks like a farmer, L-T,” the sergeant said. “No worries.”
Miker allowed Eislen and the strangers inside. “Am I dreaming this? Eislen, you're dead. We found the spot where your body burned up. Everyone thought a burning soul fell on you.”
“No, Elder, I'm not dead. I was taken to the sky by these people. I was hurt by... I was hurt. They fixed me up, or I would be dead.”
Miker laughed gleefully. “So dreaming then. Let's see... what to ask dead Eislen...”
Eislen threw his arms in the air. “I'm not dead.”
Malco repeated the conversation quietly to Peter.
“Translate to the elder,” Peter said. He stepped forward between Miker and Eislen.
“Sir, my name is Peter. I am from another place far away, very different from what you call home.”
“That's a bit cliché, isn't it Lieutenant?” Malco said.
“Just translate it,” Peter said, irritated.
Malco translated the greeting, and Peter continued. “We have come to your world by accident. We didn't mean to harm anyone, but we accidentally hurt Eislen when we first got here. We took him with us to the sky so we could fix his wounds.” Peter waited for the translation. “Now we have brought him back to you, alive and healthy.”
Miker’s face looked like he was having a spiritual experience.
Malco translated, at least until Eislen interjected, “They live among the gods, Miker. I have seen Fandama up close, I lived on a world so small you could see all of it standing in one spot. I have been near a demon that these people control and bend to their will. I have been so close to Jalai that I could feel her heat caressing my face! I was afraid she would be offended, but instead I bathed in her love. These are good people, Miker, and they have the favor of the gods.”
Malco translated for Peter.
“Wow, he's a natural, let's hope that does it,” Peter whispered back.
The elder sat silently for a moment, and then answered as Malco translated.
“First there was a light in the sky, a sign from the gods that things were about to change. Then I went looking for the man I consider my son, to find a burned hole in the ground and his flocks scattered. I thought for sure the gods had taken him. Then things appear in the sky, and pass overhead. I don't know what these are, but it's more change and must be the will of the gods. Then I am told by elders in villages to the west that one of the slivers in the sky caught fire and exploded, raining pieces down on their villages. This happened right after lances of fire and gravel fell from the sky. It wasn’t long ago I heard of this. And now Eislen comes back to me, with strange wrong colored men from the sky, just as the adepts arrive…” Miker's eyes grew wide. “The adepts. Oh gods... the adepts are at the inn. They came to ask about demons, Eislen.”
“Demons?” Eislen asked.
“Some of the old women think you were burned to death by demons. Just gossip, but now it's brought the adepts here,” Miker replied. “You have to go.”
“There were no demons, Miker. These people say that it was a machine, like a stone flour grinder is a machine.”
“That doesn't matter, the adepts are here, and if they find your friends…”
“That's bad timing,” Eislen groaned.
The word zhenghi finally sunk into Peter's awareness. He noticed the alarm on Malco's face. Peter hissed at Malco, “What? Adepts are here?”
“Zhenghi? Aloh?” Malco translated.
“What the hell are adepts?” the marine corporal asked as he instinctively charged his weapon. “You mean brainers?”
Peter felt fear at a level he’d never felt before.
“We have to get all of you out of town right now. I'll get my coat,” Miker replied to Malco.
Miker dressed quickly and opened his front door to guide the men to a safe place away from town. The elder froze in the doorway as he looked into the street. Peter looked past Miker to see what stopped him. Four figures stood on the cobblestone.
A local and three people that had to be adepts.
Chapter 22 - I Surrender
14 ORS 15327
Three adepts, two men and a woman, stood spaced apart in the street. The woman stepped forward and Miker flew across the room hitting the far wall with terrible force.
A hay wagon across the street rolled over on its side.
The two marines stepped through the doorway and opened fire on the woman, their loud weapons eviscerating her on the street. As the bullets tore through her body, the sound and violence of the marine assault momentarily stunned the two male adepts. The female adept fell to the ground, crying in agony as her lifeblood poured out onto the cobble of Kampana’s main street. Death came in seconds.
For a moment everything was quiet except the echo of gunfire from distant hills. The marines, engaging what they still considered civilians, hesitated an instant too long to attack the other two adepts. The marines turned to open fire on the ornately dressed man in the middle, but the man on the far left stepped forward and both marines died. The sergeant died instantly in ice, the corporal ran a short distance screaming as his insides burst into flames.
The sergeant toppled over and shattered with a loud WHUMP, like a glass statue. Her pieces rolled past the feet of the remaining two adepts.
The burning marine ran ten meters before collapsing to the ground. Fire erupted in gouts from his mouth. A few labored sobs escaped his lips, then he lay still. The only recognizable remnant left of either marine were two combat rifles laying on the street.
Holy shit, this is everything the Captain didn’t want.
“Enough,” one of the men in the street shouted.
Malco hurriedly translated for Peter as both pulled their sidearms and took defensive positions inside Miker’s house.
Eislen helped Miker to a couch, and checked him over for injuries. Blood leaked from the corners of his lips.
Malco knelt on one knee with his pistol pointed toward the door. In the local dialect he yelled, “I'm going to shoot the hell out of the first one of you to walk through the door.”
A question answered his threat. “You are men who come from the sky demon?”
“I don't know what you mean,” Malco replied. “He wants to know if we come from a demon,” he translated for Peter.
Miker rested on the couch, Eislen attended him. A ragged cough spewed blood onto Eislen’s shirt, and Peter started toward the pair to help.
The old man waved Peter away. Peter hesitantly rejoined Malco.
The man in the street spoke again. “I think you do know what I mean, but your minds are closed to me. The structure is strange. But the local boy...”
Malco continued to translate in whispers.
Eislen dropped to the floor and sat cross legged as Peter watched. Eislen started chanting, seemingly random tones.
“Use what I taught you to keep your mind closed to them,” Miker whispered hoarsely.
After several minutes, Eislen sighed and stood up.
“I'm sorry,” Eislen whispered to Peter. “He knows everything I know.”
Peter glared at Eislen for a moment, then prepared himself to leap toward the door firing. Instead he heard a short scream outside, followed by the sound of a body hitting the street.
Peter looked at Malco. “What the…?”
The same man spoke again. “My name is Alarin Sur'batti, I am the Second Adept of Zeffult. I wish to— I wish to discuss terms of my surrender.”
Malco translated.
Peter shook his head. “This is a trick.”
“Is this a trick?” Malco asked in the local tongue.
“I assure you it is not. I have the upper hand, I hold all the power here. I am very sorry for your guards, Salih acted without orders from me, and I have executed him for it. Your guards, of course, killed my companion Eranna, a waste of a beautiful woman. But she also acted without my orders. I regret the deaths on both sides. I wish to meet your Sarah Dayson and discuss terms.”
“That can't happen,” Peter answered. “You’re too much of a threat to take you to her.”
Alarin sounded confused. “You do not know how to disarm an adept? You blind him. I will submit to being blindfolded or hooded.”
Peter looked at Eislen, who shrugged. “How do I know you're telling the truth?”
Alarin laughed. “I hope your Sarah Dayson is smarter than you are. Have young Eislen move something, then try to move it again blindfolded. Other than speaking mind to mind, an adept must see to alter what is around him. Observation is key to understanding the nature of reality.”
Peter desperately wanted a solution that didn’t include the death of his companions. “Do it, Eislen,” Peter said. “I want to know if it works.”
Eislen did, and was unable to use telekinesis when blindfolded.
“Malco, empty your pack. That will have to do for now.” Peter tossed the pack out into the street without looking outside. He hoped that Malco and Eislen didn’t hear the quiver in his voice. “Put that on your head,” he yelled out the door.
Peter listened as Alarin picked up the pack.
“Done, although it's not very effective,” Alarin said. “I don't want you uneasy now that I've seen what your loud clubs do. You should wrap my head, or find something that seals better.”