So he said nothing. Just watched the proud angle of her head as she twisted and turned through the water, her strong legs eating up the distance even as she was careful not to dislodge a loose branch or overturn a rock. And her hurt tore at him. He didn’t want her feelings to get to him. But that didn’t matter. From the moment he’d seen her, he’d wanted her, and he’d never understood his reaction, or what about her made him drop his normal barriers.
Since the Corps had trained her from early childhood, she’d no doubt mastered many skills. But until now, he’d never considered what that training had done to her, how it had molded her. He suspected she was a loner by necessity more than by nature and recalled how easily she’d befriended Tish and Tad. How her crew had admired her, enough for one of them to give his life for her. How she worked well in a team.
Apparently, the enforced loneliness and the repression of her Quait had helped form her character, her independent personality. Her courage to abandon the known world of Rama for the uncertainty of Zor held an appeal he couldn’t deny.
She stopped before a log they’d climbed over earlier and eyed it for a few moments. “Here. We’ll build the trap between these branches, where our pursuers will cross over like we did.”
“What can I do?” He didn’t hesitate to make the offer. For now, she was helping him. Although that didn’t mean she’d always be on his side, for now it was enough. Had to be enough.
“Make sure to keep your feet in the water so you don’t leave any tracks or scent,” she instructed, “and try not to splash the rocks. The water may not dry before they arrive, and we want no evidence of our passing by.”
With her knife, she cut branches of a thickness to match his thumb’s diameter, slicing so low at their roots that no one would notice she’d disturbed the plants. Then she prepared a trap, setting the sharp branches into the mud, below the water line. Finally, she sliced the back of a thick branch, making a tempting handhold. The dogs would leap safely past the handhold, but whoever climbed over the log would likely grab the branch, and already weakened, it would snap, causing the person to teeter and fall onto her sharpened stakes.
“That won’t kill anyone,” he whispered.
She gave him a chastising look. “Killing is not my intent. An injury will serve our purposes better. They’ll have to call for help or carry out the injured person or split up. Any of those scenarios will delay them and better our chances, even if they only slow to look for additional traps.”
The sound of dogs barking increased in volume. “You done?” he asked, wondering how she felt about taking the life of Tomar’s man. If she was upset, she hid it well. But then again, she was an expert at hiding things.
“All set. Let’s go back.”
Derrek admitted to himself that her behavior, sometimes so hard and determined, floored him. Yet he couldn’t help being glad that she had killed the First—without her skill, his daughter might be a hostage. Or dead.
But he knew firsthand that Firsts were disdainful, haughty, cruel, and useless. Worst of all, they thought of themselves before all others. And he abhorred them with every atom of his being.
He couldn’t trust Azsla. Sure, she appeared to be helping him now. But he simply could not bring himself to believe that she didn’t have an ulterior motive. That eventually she would betray them all.
And fearing that ultimate betrayal, he sought to protect himself against relying on her, or relaxing, or even so much as letting down his guard about his feelings for her. It was that simple. He had choices here.
Derrek and Azsla caught up to the others much sooner than he’d expected. Apparently after they left, Poli had decided she’d walked far enough and needed a rest. Azsla simply kept walking ahead and left Derrek to deal with them. He didn’t blame her for putting as much distance between herself and his ex as she could.
“We need to keep going,” Derrek told them. “Rest time is over.”
“Oh, stop.” Poli wearily raised her head. “We aren’t employees who have to jump at your every command.”
“Do whatever you wish.” Derrek held out his hand to Tish and helped her to her feet.
“That’s all you ever wanted from me—your children,” Poli accused, her voice bitter.
The tension, the responsibility slid from Derrek’s shoulders. He’d had enough of Poli himself. He’d never been able to understand why he’d spent so many years feeling that he’d let her down. And quite frankly he now wondered if he would have stayed with her—if he hadn’t suffered through the mind wipe. Surely she must have changed since he’d been attracted to her, because he now saw very little in her to like.
And he was done arguing. “Poli, you and Mavinor do as you like. But Tish is coming with me.”
Mavinor didn’t give Poli time to respond. He tugged her to her feet. “We’re all going.”
Derrek kept Tish by his side and strode to Azsla, who had waited for them. If she’d overheard the conversation, she didn’t show it. Instead, she guided them around another trap. This time she’d rigged a neck-high vine to trip and release a stone that would swing from an overhead branch into the unlucky victim—again missing the dogs.
“That’s way clever,” Tish said, clearly impressed. “Could you teach me how to do that?”
“Great.” Poli glared at Azsla. “Teach her how to kill people. That will get her far in life.”
“Better she should learn to pick out the most fashionable pair of shoes?” Derrek muttered.
Azsla raised her hand over her mouth to hide her grin.
Poli sighed. “Well, I can see you know one hell of a lot about raising a teenage girl.”
Derrek let the subject drop. He found he no longer cared what Poli thought. From now on he intended to look toward the future, or what remained of it after Katadama struck Zor. While he would make certain his children were safe, most Zorans would die. But those that made it to the asteroids would go on—and he intended to be part of the rebuilding efforts.
And after they recovered, they would prepare better for the next attack—this time knowing the Ramans would keep returning until every one of their former slaves was dead or recaptured. The effort the Ramans had put into ruining this planet for all Zorans was well planned, vicious, and telling. Hopefully Taylo and Azsla’s plan to make a tactonium bomb to blow up the asteroid was coming along on schedule.
Meanwhile, he would do what needed to be done to survive. If that meant he had to keep his friends close and his enemy closer, that’s exactly what he would do.
They made good time as the stream bottom changed from larger rocks and mud to smaller stones and sand. No doubt thanks to Azsla’s traps, they seemed to be staying ahead of the Ramans—at least as far as he could tell from the sounds of barking dogs.
When Azsla stopped and put her finger to her lips, he listened hard. But he only picked up the breeze ruffling the leaves, a bird’s caw, the incessant hum of flying insects, and a frog chirping.
When she drew her blaster, he followed suit. What danger had she picked up ahead? Moving forward, he shielded Tish with his body and strained to see through the dense forest brush.
Azsla motioned for them to get down. And that’s when he heard the distant roar of a hovercraft. While they crouched still as rocks beneath the trees, the chances of them being spotted from the air weren’t that high. But their pursuers were starting to gain on them, the barking growing in volume.
Yet, if they advanced, the searchers in the air might spot them. Azsla motioned them to one side of the creek and pointed to a cave. “Let’s go,” she whispered.
“What about our tracks?” he whispered back.
“Can’t be helped. If that hovercraft spots us, we’ve got big trouble. It’s got cannon blasters.”
They hurried to the cave, and she tossed a few rocks into it to make sure no living animals
occupied it before leading them inside. He had to duck his head at the entrance and around a bend, but then the cave widened. Tall enough and wide enough to house them all, the cave had been used before. Judging by the skeletal remains, animals had brought their prey here for a meal.
“I’m going to cover our tracks and scout ahead,” Azsla told them. “Meanwhile, you can rest.”
“She’s leaving us here to die,” Poli wailed.
Azsla didn’t answer, but slipped from the cave. Derrek went with her. She broke off a tree branch and smoothed it across the ground, covering up a heel print in one spot, a full print in another.
“What about our scent?” he asked.
Azsla shooed him back toward the cave. “See if Poli or Tish packed any perfume or hair spray. I’ll use the scents to confuse the dogs.”
Derrek did as she asked and returned with pepperite. “Will this work?”
Azsla grinned. “It’s perfect. Thanks. Did Tish happen to say why she packed it?”
“Sniffing it helps prevent a cold.”
“An herbal remedy. Hmm. I’ll have to try sometime.” Azsla carefully took the pepperite, opened the container, and shook a few flakes into her open palm. Then she dusted the bits over their tracks, backing down to the water. There she used a more liberal portion, no doubt trying to hide the telltale scent where they’d left the water. Then careful to save the rest, she twisted the cap shut and handed it back.
“Come on. Let’s go steal us a hovercraft.”
He hurried to catch up as she headed upstream. “Did I hear you right? You want to steal a Raman hovercraft?”
“Yeah. We let them see you in a clearing. While they’re coming after you, I steal the hovercraft.”
“And you fly away and leave me there to die.” He fisted his hands on his hips, challenging her.
“Are you going to hold me personally accountable for every bad thing a First ever did to you?”
“That wouldn’t be fair.”
“Life ain’t fair, boss man.” She used the affectionate nickname his employees had given him. While he tried to be a fair boss, he knew most of his people worked as hard as he did for just a tiny portion of the rewards.
“You’d be better bait,” he finally said. “Once they get a look at you, they’ll—”
“Shoot me on sight?”
“Want you for their very own.”
“Yeah, their very own prisoner.” She trudged through the creek. “But your idea to switch roles won’t work. I’m afraid you’ll have to be the bait.”
“Why?”
“Because I know how to fly a Raman hovercraft.”
“I’m a fast learner.”
She rolled her eyes at the sky. “I’m not betting my life on you figuring out the operational codes. Besides, if you think I’d fly off and leave you . . . where would I go? Don’t forget I need your sorry ass to get me off Zor before it explodes.”
There was no missing her disdain, as if she would have preferred to go it alone. And to his annoyance, he felt his anger receding and the camaraderie they’d shared returning.
What was it about her that made him like her in spite of the fact she was a First? His responses had made no sense since the moment they’d met. Then after the vision of them making love in the ice cave . . . but ever since they’d made love for real, he couldn’t blame the alien in his head. Or could he?
Was it an accident that Azsla and Pepko had shown up around the same time? Had the Firsts allied themselves with other aliens about whom the Zorans knew nothing? Since Pepko had admitted that he didn’t have a body, for all Derrek knew, the aliens and Firsts could have been communicating on a daily basis back on Rama for tens of thousands of years.
Pepko interrupted his thoughts. Now that’s a fanciful notion. However, my kind haven’t been planet bound in several millennia.
So your showing up at the same time as Azsla was coincidence?
I arrived when the time was right.
You didn’t answer my question.
Right now you need to befriend this woman. She has knowledge you require to stop Katadama.
You trust her? Derrek asked, curious about the alien’s thought processes.
Trust is not my concern.
Why are we your concern? Aren’t we boring to you?
On the contrary. I find primitive life forms a pleasant diversion. Pepko’s thoughts might be a bit strange, but his amusement came through.
We amuse you? Derrek didn’t like the idea. So why are you bothering me? What is it you want?
Pepko didn’t answer. Derrek didn’t know if the being was still inside his head or not, but he seemed to have gone as suddenly as he’d arrived. Perhaps he’d decided to pop into someone else’s head and annoy them.
But with the forest clearing up ahead, and Azsla slowing and pointing to a parked hovercraft, he was grateful Pepko had departed. As he looked around and spied the Raman hovercraft, Derrek’s hopes escalated. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to be bait after all, since the vehicle was already dirtside—a lucky break for them.
Azsla took her cannon blaster from its holster and sank to the ground on her belly. He did the same. For the next half-hour she didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just studied the group of men who appeared to be busy with the hovercraft.
They filled it with fuel from tanks. Then two men checked the gauges while another spoke on his vidlink. Too far away from the Ramans to hear their conversation, he had the impression they were waiting for orders, although the discussion could have been general chitchat.
Azsla tapped his shoulder and motioned for Derrek to circle to the right as she edged left. Derrek crawled forward on his stomach, using his elbows to pull him through the rough grasses. He kept his head down, yet tried to keep track of Azsla’s progress. She was moving as quickly as he was, as if she’d practiced belly crawling for years.
When he stopped again to judge direction and distance, he took advantage of a toppled tree for coverage. Peering out from behind the log, he searched first for Azsla. But he couldn’t find her in the grass. So he moved his gaze to the two men who’d been fueling the hovercraft.
That’s when he spied her. Upright and still, she’d molded herself to a tree. And when one of the Ramans stepped toward her to answer a call of nature, Derrek raised his weapon, prepared to shoot.
Only he didn’t have a good angle. The hovercraft and trees blocked his shot. His pulse sped as the man headed directly toward the spot where Azsla hid.
Quark. Another step, and he would see her. Derrek ached to risk a shot but made himself wait.
At the moment the enemy saw her, the First stiffened in obvious shock. Derrek held his breath. Before he could fire, with a slashing strike and a glint of blade, Azsla cut his throat, then broke the man’s fall and eased him to the ground. She’d struck in lethal silence, and Derrek’s heart had jammed up his throat before relief let him breathe once again.
Her attack had been swift, violent, practiced. And after she faded back into the woods, although he knew her location, he still couldn’t spot her. Damn, she knew her stuff.
And she was a killer.
No, he corrected, she was a soldier. This was war. Even if he couldn’t be sure what side she was on.
Derrek shoved the thought aside and focused on getting to the Raman First on his side of the camp, a man standing with his back to Derrek, the com link raised to his ear. Derrek would only have one chance to take out this enemy.
If he failed, the First would grab him with his Quait, and if that happened, Derrek was a goner. He wouldn’t be able to move, might even be forced to kill himself or Azsla.
Too bad Azsla couldn’t protect him with her Quait. But to adapt to the situation, he required free will.
So in spite of his hurry to crawl the last few bo
dy lengths across the field, he had to go slowly, silently. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he blinked it away, but he could do nothing about the perspiration pooling under his arms and trickling down his back.
Derrek had never killed a First. He’d never killed anyone. His fear that he’d fail, combined with his anger that he was less equipped to kill than Azsla, left a bitter taste in his mouth.
But he would not let his family down. Not his daughter, who was terrified, or his son, who was waiting for him to save the day. Not even his ex and her husband, who needed him to get off this planet whether they wanted to admit it or not.
The easiest way to take out the First would be with his cannon blaster. But once he fired, the third First would capture him in his Quait.
So Derrek had to move silently, stealthily, and hope he didn’t crack a stray branch to alert them. He wished he could see Azsla. He wished he knew how close she was to her second target. He wished she’d risked a signal through the com link, but he also feared being overheard. Losing just a precious micronbit could get them killed. Most of all, he wished he could be certain there were only two Firsts still alive in the clearing, because the craft had enough room for four, and Azsla had only killed one.
He also worried about Azsla. Besides planning to kill two men to his one, she was putting her life in peril to help him and his family. The least he could do was follow through.
The First on the com link ended his conversation. He dropped his arm to his side. And reached for his blaster.
He’d either seen the dead man. Or Azsla.
Derrek took the shot.
20
AZSLA HEARD THE hum of Derrek’s cannon blaster and swore. She’d hoped to get the drop on her target before he had any warning. Now she had to alter her plan. She reached to seize Derrek in her Quait and found herself a micron-bit too late. Her target had grabbed him, which meant Derrek could be used against her. Instead of one enemy now stalking her, she had two. And she had no doubt the First would attempt to place Derrek in a compromising position where Azsla had to shoot him in order to take down the First.
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