Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9)

by Mark Wandrey

  “You spar for the honor of your homeworld. Do only those things your people there would consider honorable. No maiming. Excessive biting is dishonarable. Any lasting injury you do uneccessarily to others will be done to you.” Makori secured himself and tapped a fist to his chest.

  That Sonya could decipher perfectly well. Part of Makori’s role as coach or referee was also to enforce the answering injuries. It didn’t seem entirely sensible to have two hurt mercenaries when you might only have one, but she supposed it prevented careless injuries from happening too often.

  “Any other rules in Eshtoo?” Rex asked, impressing Sonya with his restraint. “How many points to win? How many teams and how many on each?”

  “The match ends when you submit. Double points for getting the other team’s ball into a lighted inshi, single for your own. Make allies if you can. Until we know your clan, you fight for Earth, and the rest for Zi and Ja, so you are outnumbered.” Makori tilted his head slightly, not quite a baring of the neck. “Make your clan proud.”

  Rex’s grin had a lot of teeth in it as he flexed his powerful arm and leg muscles. “You bunch of wankers never seen a fair dinkum rugby scrum.” He flung himself into the melee before the translator finished its last word.

  * * *

  Drake pushed off a bare second after Rex, though he angled for the nearest tower of crates. Rex, of course, went straight into the heart of it.

  He’d never been one for allies, and he’d always been outnumbered. This was nothing new to him at all, except he was facing fellow Zuul for a change.

  Out in space, rocketing toward a group fighting over a ball, he could already see the others responding to the Earth pups’ arrival. He smiled. A new player has entered the game. A medium-sized Zuul with some gray on his muzzle and a sneer pushed off another player and wound up for a devastating punch as Drake approached. Drake pulled in his limbs and spun, legs back. There was a slight grunt of surprise as the other Zuul’s punch missed completely, throwing his attacker crazily from the reaction of zero G. Drake completed his roll just as planned; his knees caught the older Zuul in the back of the head, knocking his opponent silly.

  * * *

  Rex and his four siblings entering the game swelled the number to at least 30. Sonya seemed to have a basic idea of what was going on, maybe better than he did. She tended to think tactically, while he thought one-on-one. He knew their sudden jump into the game had caught all the others off guard, at least momentarily.

  Rex suspected the game was more like rugby, an excuse to drink and beat the shit out of each other. The way one of them immediately had a go at Drake confirmed it. As soon as he saw a ball, Rex used a random Zuul’s head as a springboard and redirected his flight toward it. He caught the ball with his finger claws, and as soon as he pulled it in, someone caught him with an elbow to the ribs.

  He grunted, both with the pain and appreciation. “Not bad, mate,” he said, and slammed an elbow behind the unknown opponent’s ear. He bounced off a spectator, who tried to steal the ball.

  Rex was nice and only rung the bloke’s ears with a strong slap before rocketing away from the wall. The pattern of lights was random; however, it did follow a sort of predictability. They never lit the next one closest to it. So he picked a point and shot toward it, hoping one of the nooks would light before he got creamed. A foot hit him in the side of the head, proving him wrong, and the ball spun away.

  Rex collided with a wall, which he grabbed hold of to avoid drifting away. He didn’t want to get caught freefalling in the center, as that looked to be a bad thing. It only took a second to spot the Zuul who’d hit him, a nearly silver female who was eyeing him, curious what his reaction would be.

  “Good hit,” he said in Zuul. She nodded before going back to the game.

  * * *

  Ripley angled perfectly to intercept a pass, catching the ball and rolling around it to protect her steal. She snapped into a full stretch, grabbing another player to bleed off the change in momentum, and grinned in his face before she spun off toward the wall.

  She hadn’t been in her element in the obstacle run on the way to the hangar bay gym, but here…Ripley preferred flying, the thrum of engines and the interplay of a ship’s many systems coming together to defeat gravity, but she could learn to love zero G. She slammed the ball across an encroaching Zuul’s face, a howl building in her chest, then twisted as three more converged on her position.

  She didn’t have to look to know where Sonya was, and hurled the ball to her sister with enough force to get herself out of the way of her incoming attackers.

  * * *

  Sonya snapped her jaws and snagged the pass from Ripley, keeping her motion in one direction to rebound the ball onward to Rex.

  Too late, she realized Rex was in the crosshairs of two females—both aiming for him before the ball was in play, and both looking incredibly pleased to have him in their reach—so she pushed back off the wall with one foot and a slight twist, angling herself back into his path.

  Neither of the females paid any attention to her, but Rex got the ball ricocheting before the other Zuul made contact, and Sonya cocked her head a moment, considering helping her brother.

  No, she decided, jaw dropping slightly. Let him enjoy fighting his way out. With barely a flick of an ear, she flipped and released the ball halfway through, directly for Drake. She caught sight of Shadow, still hooked on the ground by the entrance, his attention on the nook lights.

  The distraction cost her—at least three arms snagged on her various limbs, and she forgot about Shadow as she twisted around the closest, smallest Zuul. Using him as leverage, she kicked them both off from a larger female, while the third attacker hung on.

  The small Zuul yelped and bit her leg, and Sonya kicked him, too, catching his sensitive muzzle just as a ball slammed into his midsection.

  “You’re welcome!” Drake called, and Sonya laughed, firing the ball back to Rex again as her remaining attacker tried to get her in a headlock.

  “Do or do not,” she said mockingly, even knowing none of the Zuul around her would understand.

  * * *

  They’ve figured us out, Rex thought as he caught the ball again. He had to fight off a pair of females almost instantly, barely hanging on to the ball and getting a nasty punch in the ribs for his efforts. One of the females was sent sailing away, while the other hung onto her handhold as he jumped clear, but she’d earned a fistful of his tail fur as a prize. That’s bloody dirty pool.

  It only took another second as he soared across the space to realize he wasn’t going to be allowed to score. They were all over him. Drake, Sonya, and Ripley were being watched closely. All except…Shadow. He was against one side, eyes closed in concentration. If you looked at him, you’d think he was cringing in fear. Rex knew better; Shadow had no fear. That was actually one of the things that worried them most about their brother. His actions often bordered on the death-defying.

  No, he wasn’t hiding or fearful, he was analyzing. Rex was almost halfway across when Shadow’s eyes snapped open, and his muzzle pulled into a grin. Bloody mutt figured it out! Shadow looked right at Rex and winked. Yup.

  Rex analyzed his flightpath. There were no fewer than five Zuul after him, from every other team—if there were teams, really. None were near Shadow; they were completely ignoring him. However, if he threw the ball to him, they’d intercept it. He had to pay a toll.

  The big conduit that ran through the middle of the chamber was less than a meter away. At the last possible second, he hooked an arm out. The impact was jarringly hard. As he flexed his bicep as much as he could, he looped around the conduit, changing his course radically. When he released, his speed increased, and he was now rocketing toward Shadow.

  “Get him!” someone yelled.

  Rex could see two more rebound toward him. Too late, he thought, and threw the ball. The interceptors hit him with bone-crushing force. He heard an arm bone snap, and yelped in pain.

  * *
*

  There are patterns in all things, Shadow thought as he clung to the container. The others ignored him, thinking he was too afraid or timid to play. Fools. Shadow watched the game for a minute, making sure he understood, and his siblings were going to be okay. He’d help them if he thought they needed it. Scoring appeared to be almost as important as fighting, and since most of the others didn’t seem too interested in scoring, he decided to concentrate on that.

  The flashing pattern of the nook lights was the trick, and the reason he had yet to see a score. He let his eyes unfocus and watched. Yes, there is a pattern. After he’d watched long enough, he closed his eyes and ran the combinations. His brothers and sisters desperately wanted pinplants. Shadow didn’t care; he didn’t need them. All things were possible with an orderly mind.

  Then he had it. The pattern used an algorithm, which he’d found. Easy, once he realized its initiating sequence. His eyes snapped open and instantly lit on Rex, who was rocketing toward him, seconds from a catastrophic collision with two opposing players. The look on his stronger brother’s face was questioning. Shadow nodded, and Rex immediately threw the ball to him just before he was clobbered.

  In the second before the ball reached him, Shadow ran the algorithm, spotted the point in the lights’ sequence, and calculated the next spot. Eyes followed the ball’s path, and opposing players realized it was going to Shadow, the new player everyone had ignored.

  Shadow didn’t jump out to meet it, didn’t look around for the next person to pass to. He simply smiled as it came to him, turned to the right, and stuffed it into a nook just as its light came on.

  “Score!” the onnogo yelled.

  Every Zuul in the room stared at Shadow with their jaws hanging open in shock as his siblings whooped and hollered. Shadow just smiled.

  * * *

  Makori caught Rex and checked his arm. Rex stared at the limb and knew it wasn’t quite right.

  “Veska,” Makori barked, and a female Zuul floated over. “This arm is broken.”

  “He purposely sped up,” she said. Makori cocked his head and she sighed. “I accept responsibility,” she said and held out her arm.

  “No,” Rex snapped as Makori raised a baton with obvious intent.

  “Do you forgo leveling?” Makori asked. The older Zuul saw the look on Rex’s face. “Leveling means equal hurt for unnecessary injury.”

  “Yes, I forgo,” Rex said. Makori nodded and holstered the baton. A cheer went up among the assembled Zuul. Rex smiled; it would seem he’d done right. He caught Shadow’s gaze and gave his brother a thumbs up.

  “Dardy move, bro!”

  Shadow smiled and gave the thumbs up back. “Piece of piss!”

  Later in a chamber on the ship that served as a sort of club, a crowd of Zuul drank and laughed, welcoming Rex and his siblings as…what? Not quite equals, surely. But they weren’t outsiders anymore. It felt good, and the Zuul drinks felt even better. A medic had given him a low-level nanite shot, and his arm was fine.

  Sometime later, approaching when they were due back in their quarters, the female who’d broken his arm, Veska, appeared out of nowhere. She gave him a crooked smile, baring her curving canines in a way that shot a thrill through him.

  “Lucky shot, new pup,” Veska said. Her smell was…delicious. Then she nipped his muzzle, and was gone. Later, in his bunk, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  “No wanking over Veska,” Drake whispered from the next bunk.

  “Piss off, shark biscuit,” Rex replied. Drake chuckled, rolling over. Rex sighed and slowly drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Alan put his slate away and shrugged. A second later, he also sighed. The kids were spending a lot of time with the Zuul, as he’d suspected they would. They’d sparred with the alien mercs and were having individual learning sessions with their…what? Witch doctor? He didn’t get it, and got the impression from his kids they didn’t get it, either. Shadow was in heaven, as he was with all things hinting at mythology.

  For his part, Alan and Tucker spent most of their time with Teef, the commander of Insho’Ze, and A’kef, whom Alan guessed was their business manager. There were a lot of details to work out for potential orders of battle, as well as responsibilities, should they encounter combat. Considering both had missing combat teams, that seemed highly likely.

  Teef seemed more than willing to allow Silent Night to play to its strengths as a Human merc unit—hit hard and fast in the face of even heavy opposition. It only made sense, since they had CASPers, and the Zuul didn’t. The problem was, A’kef kept asking questions about the powered armor.

  “Since they’ve been modified for Zuul, does this mean they’ll be available?”

  He’d put off an answer to the question. Of course, the only reason they existed at all was because a representative at Binnig had done Alan a personal favor. It was supposed to be a low-profile deal, without Silent Night flashing them around for the press to see. For that matter, it wasn’t widely-held knowledge on Earth that five Zuul pups had spent the last 14 years in Australia.

  He was even more nervous when he saw the news report just before leaving. The Veetanho had tried to kill Jim Cartwright shortly after the formation of the Terran Federation. Apparently the rats had a group of killers operating undercover after the Peacemaker-enforced ceasefire, trying to undermine efforts on Earth to stabilize its government. Alan was sure the aliens hadn’t done themselves any favors.

  The bad part was, it had created a groundswell of alien resentment. There were untold thousands of aliens marooned on Earth and many wanted to stay. He would have thought, before the war, that it would have been possible. Even in Australia, alien rights had made great strides. He was afraid everything would be set back decades, maybe even pre-first contact. How would his fellow Brisbanites think of his children after all that? Guess I’ll find out when we get home.

  “Prepare for hyperspace emergence in one minute.” His translator rendered Zuul into English for him. It was full of guttural stops and strange hesitations. It was difficult for Human mouths to manage. Of course, the kids were managing just fine. Every time he’d seen them over the last week, they’d been trying out more and more of the language. Alan even picked up a few words himself, which pleased his kids to no end.

  The sudden sensation of falling, despite already being in freefall, meant Paku was again in normal space, more than a thousand light years from Earth. Maybe we can finally get some answers.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 10

  ZMS Paku, Klbood System, Cresht Region, Tolo Arm

  Alan floated into the bridge of the Paku. The ship’s captain, a female Zuul named I’kik, glanced up as he entered then went back to examining the big central Tri-V. Unlike his own ship Starbright, the Zuul merc cruiser wasn’t commanded from a CIC, or combat information center. When he’d asked I’kik about it, pointing out the vulnerability of an exposed bridge, she’d responded deadpan, “Zuul aren’t as concerned about a perceived vulnerability as we are in being able to command with all our senses.”

  Sounded like some of the Zen stuff he’d heard from a few Human merc units. What was that one American unit? Bjorn’s Berserkers? Their motto was ‘Valhalla Awaits.’ Fuck that, I’d rather piss on God and win.

  He noticed A’kef floating to one side, observing Captain I’kik and her crew work. Alan caught a handhold and skirted the outside of the bridge toward the merc commander. As he floated, he glanced out the big wrap-around bridge viewport. Klbood’s blue-white star blazed brightly. The window had built-in abilities to dim bright light, and likely a defense against lasers. The star was so intense, the window couldn’t reduce the light enough for him to avoid squinting.

  “Commander Porter,” A’kef said as Alan grabbed a stanchion and came to a stop.

  “A’kef,” Alan replied. “What’s going on?”

  “We didn’t find what we expected.”

  “Either of our people here?”

  “No
. However, there is a station.”

  “I thought it was a dead system,” Alan said.

  “As did we.”

  Alan controlled his expression. He wanted to smile at the Zuul merc commander’s surprise. After all, they often bragged about being one of the preeminent merc races in the galaxy. They’d been fighting contracts before Human history. To see them caught off guard gave him hope Humans weren’t as much the babes in the woods as the other races liked to consider them.

  “What kind of a base?” Alan asked.

  “See for yourself,” A’kef said, and gestured to the bridge Tri-V.

  The center now showed what Alan thought was a more-or-less standard ring space station. However, the longer he observed it, the more he realized it was anything but standard.

  Space stations were usually rings, or multiple rings in the case of larger stations. Karma Station had multiple rings, each at a different, higher gravity the further out they got from the non-rotating central hub. Docking was in the hub, which also often held warehousing and repair facilities. He understood these designs grew out of requirements for spacefaring, and likely were as old as starships.

  “Is that a collection of junk ships?” Alan asked.

  “Looks like it,” A’kef answered.

  Alan could tell the Zuul was unsettled. Despite his kids being aliens raised by Humans, many of their mannerisms and expressions seemed to be more instinctive than learned. The way A’kef gave short answers, his ears back and almost flat against his head, and his unwillingness to look away from the station, all spoke of concern, anger, or at least extreme alertness.