by Sara King
Sobbing, Elf rolled in the dirt, begging for his mother.
“Tell me who helped you,” Knaaren said. “It won’t end until you do.”
“Nobody helped me!” Elf screamed.
“Punish him. A higher setting.”
Joe shuddered at his friend’s screams. I gave him the akarit. His fingernails bit into his palms and his jaw ached. His chest was a throbbing mass of agony. He took a step forward.
Libby grabbed his arm. She gave a slight shake of her head, eyes hard.
Joe shuddered and closed his eyes as Knaaren’s frenzy continued.
“Are you ready to talk? No? Punish him. Stop. Punish him. Stop. This will go on as long as it needs to. Who was helping you? Punish him. A higher setting.”
“Stop it,” Maggie whimpered. “Somebody stop him.”
The Dhasha paced around Elf as his Takki hurt him, saliva frothing around his teeth, staining the ground orange. His muscles were twitching as he stalked back and forth, his insane emerald eyes fixed to Elf as he moved, ordering his Takki to hurt him. It continued for almost half an hour, until Commander Lagrah crossed the plaza and stepped into the formation.
“That’s enough, Knaaren,” Lagrah said. “Even if he knew, he can’t answer you now.”
By that time, Elf’s pleas had devolved into unintelligible, animal babbles.
Knaaren swiveled and rushed the Ooreiki, spraying black dust across the plaza.
Lagrah never moved. He stared fearlessly up into the Dhasha’s open maw, his sudah not even flickering. After the Ooreiki met and held Knaaren’s insane gaze for several heartbeats, he said, “He’ll haunt you until you die, Knaaren.”
The Dhasha made a grating bark of laughter. “Humans have no soul. They cannot haunt me.”
“Not him. Kihgl.”
The Dhasha took one step backwards, baring its teeth.
Lagrah continued, unperturbed. “You see him, don’t you? Where is he right now? Standing over your shoulder? Over mine? Do you hear him whisper to you when you’re trying to sleep? What does he say?” The Ooreiki took a step toward the Dhasha. “Because he will never go away. He has all of eternity to whittle away at your mind.”
For a split second, Joe thought that the Dhasha would eat Lagrah. Instead, with a cold, merciless fury, Knaaren spun on Elf and tore his groundmate apart until all that was left was strips of twitching meat and severed bone. Then he abandoned the corpse and returned to his tower, his Takki trailing along behind him.
I failed him, Joe thought, watching the rainbow figure rise toward the top floor in his elevator. I was supposed to take care of him and I let the monster eat him instead. Joe was left in shock.
“Fall out!” Commander Lagrah shouted to the regiment. “Go back to your barracks rooms. Your battlemasters will meet you there. All hunts are cancelled for today.”
Joe had to tear his eyes away from the spot at the top of the tower where the Dhasha had disappeared. When he turned, he caught Libby watching him intently. Joe quickly looked away. His gaze returned to the plaza behind them where medics were picking Elf’s remains from amongst the diamond bits.
I failed him. The single, powerful thought overwhelmed everything else. Maggie and Monk were crying, but Joe remained silent.
He didn’t deserve to cry.
He knew, beyond any doubt, he’d gotten Elf killed.
CHAPTER 31: Mourning the Dead
Joe gathered the group together that night to say a small prayer for Elf.
“I didn’t really go to church,” Joe said, clearing his throat, “But we say the Groundteam Prayer every night, and he was one of our groundmates, so I didn’t think it would be right not to say something about him…” He cleared his throat miserably.
Maggie came to his rescue. “Dear Lord, please take good care of our friend Elf. I know you don’t like the stuff he’s been doing lately, but please take him to Heaven anyway. Elf was a good kid that got captured by aliens. He liked toy soldiers and peanut butter sandwiches and hated gummi bears so he couldn’t have been so bad. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone agreed. Libby nodded.
When Joe couldn’t sleep that night, he got out of bed and began sharpening his knife. He knew it was a stupid thing to do, that half the creatures in Congress wouldn’t even blink if he stabbed them to the hilt, but it made him feel better. He wanted to do nothing more than to plunge it into Knaaren’s big, perfect eye.
He had been sitting like this for several minutes before he realized Libby was watching him.
“Go to sleep,” Joe said. “I’m just not tired.”
Libby slid out of bed and put her hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t feel like raiding tonight.” Growing uncomfortable under her unyielding gaze, Joe got up and moved off into the baths, where he sat down beside a stinking vat of alcohol.
I failed him, he thought. He trusted me and I failed him.
How could he have thought he was a good leader? How could he have been enjoying himself? He’d gotten someone killed. A friend. Someone who trusted him. Someone who’d followed him. Someone who needed him. He was dead.
And it’s my fault.
Libby slipped into the baths and sat down beside him. She touched his arm, then, before Joe realized her intent, she leaned over and kissed him. On the lips.
Joe got so hard so fast that he experienced physical pain. Thoughts of Elf vanished, replaced by instant panic. He pulled back quickly. “What do you want?”
Libby gave him a look of utter consternation. He could almost read her mind. What do you think I want, furg?
Joe cleared his throat. “I…uh…I just wanted to sharpen my knife.” Great. You Grade-A furg, that’s just what she wants to hear. Joe Sex Master Dobbs. First time any woman shows even the least bit of interest in your sorry ass and you tell her you’d rather polish cutlery. She’s gonna hate you forever. You can still save it though. Just—
But Libby was already up, her graceful legs removing her from the baths at a run. Joe stared after her in despair.
#
“I heard what happened, Choe. I’m sorry.”
Joe refused to look up at the haauk hovering above him on the plaza.
“It’s always hard to lose a friend.”
“Go away,” Joe said softly. “I know what’s going on. You’re a rebel. You’re trying to turn me into a spy.”
Yuil didn’t even blink. “So? Do you really want Congress to survive? It killed your friend.”
“Knaaren killed my friend,” Joe said. “Congress didn’t even know he existed.”
“Exactly,” Yuil retorted. “We’re all insignificant to them, Joe. We’re all pawns to do as we’re told. We don’t even have the freedom to choose membership. They force us to pay tribute, send children off to die on strange planets, and have Peacemakers kill anyone who objects. We need to destroy them, Choe.”
Joe gave Yuil an irritated glance. “What the hell can I do? I’m just a kid.”
“I’m not sure yet,” Yuil said. “But Kihgl told me to help you.”
Joe stiffened. “He did?”
“Kkee. Take this.” Yuil held out another akarit, complete with black shielding box. Joe hesitated, then reluctantly took it from the Ooreiki’s metal-tipped tentacles.
Yuil looked satisfied. “Next time you find yourself in trouble, come to the abandoned ferlii I showed you. Take the first stair you see up three levels and circle the building until you find a tunnel entrance that is more circular than the rest. Inside, there will be a small diamond etched into the floor—this is the symbol of the resistance. Take that tunnel up and you will find a room fitted with weapons and communications equipment. Say anything at all in that room and I will hear you. Just be careful—it is fitted with enough explosives to wipe out half of Alishai, should the authorities discover it.”
Joe tucked the akarit into his vest. “They won’t. Not from me.”
Yuil’s face bunched in an Ooreiki grin. “Kihgl said we could trust you.”
/> #
“Hey Chipmunk. Can you reach that ratchet for me?”
“Okay Dad. Which one’s the ratchet?”
Her dad laughed. “The one with the ratchet on it.”
Carol frowned at the set of tools, then handed him the one that looked the best.
“That’s a screwdriver.” Her father sighed and slid out from under the car. His big hands set the screwdriver back in place and plucked one of the tools from the set. “See this here? Listen.” He twisted the knob, making a clicking sound. “That’s a ratchet. You can change direction with this little lever here. See?”
Carol nodded, though she really didn’t see at all. “How does it change direction? It’s not going anywhere, Dad.”
Her father laughed—a liquid, happy sound that filled her chest with joy every time she heard it. “Come under here, my little Monk. Lemme show you something.”
Carol eyed the greasy underbelly of the car, then her new pink pants. “Mommy told me not to.”
“Mommy wouldn’t let me buy you coveralls, either. Get under here. I’ll deal with Mommy.”
Squirming with glee, Carol inched her way under the car, staring up at the unidentifiable masses of dirt and grease that seemed to make sense to her dad.
“Watch that nut right there,” her dad ordered. He put the open end of the ratchet over it and started yanking on the handle. The garage echoed with its quick, efficient clicking sounds. Then he pulled his hand away. “See it now?”
“It’s coming off,” Carol said, fascinated.
“Right,” her dad replied. “Now watch what happens when I set this baby in reverse.” He flipped the lever, and the clicking sounds returned. When he lifted the ratchet away a second time, the nut was back where it had started.
“Wow!” Carol exclaimed. “Cool, Dad.”
“One of the many marvels of modern technology. If we’ve got time tonight, I’ll show you that new air compressor I bought at—”
“James.”
Both Carol and her father jerked at her mother’s hard tone. Carol quickly skidded out from under the car and did her best to brush herself off. Her hands, greasy from touching the underside of the Toyota, left black smears across her pants. She bit her lip and watched her dad, hoping he wouldn’t get in trouble. She liked it when he let her work on cars with him.
“I need to talk to you, James. Our visitors.”
Carol frowned. She hadn’t seen any visitors, but her parents were constantly talking about them. They probably slept in the den, with the TV. Neither of them had allowed her to watch TV in days, and Carol was beginning to miss Sesame Street.
“Now, James.”
“All right, Kate.” Her father’s voice was soft, as it always was, though Carol could tell he was irritated. He picked up a greasy blue rag from the floor and began wiping his hands with it.
“Stay here, Monk.” Then, giving Carol a wink, he followed their mother back inside the house.
#
Two weeks later, while they were tending the plaza after drills, Maggie walked up and yanked Joe’s rake from his hands. “What’s the matter with you, Joe?”
Joe stared at his rake. He had been lost in thought, thinking on what Yuil and his companions had taught him the night before about biosuits. Yuil had introduced him to other rebels, and as Joe was accepted deeper into their society, they taught him things about fighting Congies that had never come up in Battlemaster Nebil’s discussions—like how to get a Congie out of his biosuit for questioning. “What are you talking about?”
“That!” Maggie cried. “You’re not saying anything and you let Sasha bully you around. You haven’t led a raid in weeks.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Joe said, taking his rake from her.
A few feet away, Libby was watching him. Though they had been neck-and-neck on their growth spurts, she had finally stopped growing. Now she stood at six-foot-three, all leg and waist. She could have been a model, back on Earth. Here, she never left the barracks without her black utility vest, heavy Congie boots, and her rifle—yet somehow even with all her gear she looked as sexy as anything out of Playboy.
Joe ignored them both and continued to rake in silence.
Petite as she was, when Maggie grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him around to face her, it hurt. “What’s wrong with you?! Sasha’s been getting us all killed on the hunts. Pretty soon, they’re gonna pair us with some other battalion because Second keeps kicking our ass. Why won’t you say something?”
“Just leave me alone, okay?”
“Is it about Elf?”
Now everyone in the platoon was looking at him. Joe stared at the base of his rake. Even a rake looked alien here. Only three prongs that looked like fat fingers, slightly curved and black as coal. It reminded him of the instrument the rebels had shown him that was good for cracking open a Congie’s biosuit for interrogation.
“It is!” Maggie cried. “It’s about Elf!”
“Mag, leave me alone, okay?”
“I’m the one who couldn’t stop him from killing those Ooreiki. If I had, he’d still be here.”
Joe just shook his head.
“It’s not your fault, Joe!” Maggie cried. “Can’t you see that?!”
“It is.” Joe took a deep breath. “He tried to take that ship because of me. I told him I’d fly him home if he could get me a ship. I said that. And now he’s dead. Because he trusted me.”
Libby turned abruptly and stalked off toward the chow hall. Joe felt an ache in his chest as he watched her go. She’d hate him if she knew what Yuil was. She loved everything about the Army. If she found out Joe was meeting with rebels, she’d probably kill him herself.
Maggie wasn’t finished. “Elf was crazy, Joe. You didn’t do it. Knaaren did. It’s a miracle you’re not crazy, too.”
“Maybe I am,” Joe replied, thinking about his excursions with Yuil. He started raking again, but Maggie stepped on it.
“We need you, Joe. Sasha’s gonna get our flag captured, then we’ll all be screwed. We need you to lead.”
Joe snorted. “Who gives an ash about Congress and their games?”
Maggie made a disgusted noise and released his rake. Glaring at him, she said to the others, “Come on, guys. Let’s go get lunch.” She and Scott followed Libby across the yard.
Monk watched them go. Once they were out of earshot, she turned to him and said, “You know, you should stop being a Takki.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t need this. Maggie already—”
“It’s not fair making Libby beg,” Monk went on. “She already got in a fight over who gets to pop your cherry. Come on, Joe. All you have to do is look at her and you get a hard-on.”
Joe sputtered, his face catching fire. “Where did you—” He stopped himself. He didn’t want to know where she was getting her information. He still preferred to think of the others as little kids because, even with their grown-up bodies, that’s what they were.
What did it matter if Monk knew about sex, anyway? It wasn’t as if some sootwad could knock her up and ruin her life. Hell, a little good-natured nookie probably did wonders for morale. Too bad he was too much of a fumbling furg to get any.
“You should just get it over with,” Monk continued. “If sex would make her stop being so moody, I’d pay you for every night. Lately, she’s been such a bi—”
She broke off suddenly as a group of black-clad Ooreiki waddled past them. English was now forbidden to the recruits. Any time they were caught using it by the battlemasters, they were given new and heinous chores as penance. The last kid had been given the job of cleaning the eastern windows of one of the civilian towers—clinging to a rope dangling a thousand feet above the ground.
Once the Ooreiki had passed, Monk continued in Congie.
“Really, Joe. You need to get your priorities straight. Elf’s dead and Libby’s horny as hell. She’d screw a light-post if it was wearing your clothes.” Then she turned and walked off, le
aving him standing there, mouth agape.
Before Joe could follow her, a horn blasted across Alishai, announcing an immediate regiment formation. Sighing, Joe put his rake aside and followed the others to the plaza and got in line.
Several minutes went by without any sound except the thick flapping of banners in a heavy ferlii spore-wind. All except for Sixth Battalion’s—Lord Knaaren still hadn’t given Tril his banners. To make up for it, every single recruit in Sixth Battalion, even Libby and Sasha, wore their sleeves rolled above their biceps. To Joe, seeing the rolled sleeves looked even better than if they’d had banners. It gave him a sort of pride to be the only battalion allowed to have them.
Then he remembered what he was going to be fighting for and reminded himself that sleeves, banners, hunts, and formations were all a way of the Congressional Army to control them, to blind them to their real purpose. They encouraged the recruits to spend so much time squabbling and testing each other that they lost sight of the truth of their situation. Congies were the enemy, and the last thing Joe was going to do was become one of them.
A flash of color blazed across the courtyard in front of them, the Dhasha’s rainbow body at a full charge, then was gone.
Half an hour later, after their Prime Commander still hadn’t reappeared, even the battlemasters began to get impatient. In the battalion beside his, Joe heard two commanders discussing whether they should stay or go.
Almost an hour after that, a lone Takki waddled out from the Dhasha’s tower and handed an electronic note to the nearest tertiary commander before hurrying away. The Ooreiki stepped forward and activated it.
Immediately, Prime Commander Knaaren’s voice boomed out over the plaza, but his tone was hushed and calculating. “…seen them train. They can’t fool me. They try to hide him, but I see his taint. I see everything. They rot inside just like Congress. I must root out his evil.”
The tertiary commander of First Battalion continued to hold the device above his head for another two minutes, until it was obvious nothing else was forthcoming. He lowered it with a puzzled grimace.