by Mark Wandrey
Shadow was immediately struck by the female Lumar’s eyes. They were deep blue with very little white to them, like massively dilated Human or Zuul eyes, since both races’ optical organs were nearly identical. She didn’t have eyebrows. The Lumar appeared hairless. However, her eyes narrowed, and she immediately stopped talking. Her mannerisms were that of a thoughtful, intelligent being, and manipulating two slates at the same time was something even Ripley couldn’t do. This is a strange Lumar, he realized.
Shadow opened his mouth to offer a greeting. The female turned and left without a word, her purple fur jacket flapping behind her as the door closed. The Jeha’s antenna moved around and waved in Shadow’s direction, its tiny nub eyes on short stalks split between the now departed female and Shadow. Razor sharp mandibles clicked and scraped, his translator rendering it into English.
“I wasn’t done giving my report.” After a second, the Jeha dropped onto its many legs and shot away at high speed, turning a nearby corner by running up the wall, since the gravity was so low. Then it too was gone.
“Oi, Shadow,” Sonya called. “You coming, idiot?”
He growled at being called a fool. “You see that exchange?” he asked.
“What are you talking about?” Rex asked. “Come on, we’re going to meet an Aku.”
“I know where we were going,” Shadow said under his breath. His eyes lingered on the door the female had left through, his desire to follow burning brightly. Later, his inner voice said, so he turned to follow the two male Lumar and his siblings.
Because his thoughts were taken up trying to understand the earlier encounter, Shadow didn’t take note of many details as they descended until they were traversing the third ramp in a row. “What’s with the ramps?” he asked finally. “Wouldn’t elevators make more sense in a mine?”
“Dun’ know,” Rex said just ahead. “You can ask the Lumar, but I doubt they’ll have any knowledge to pass along.”
Shadow nodded, accepting the limits of questioning a Lumar. What he wanted was to talk to a female. Either the female was an exception for their species, or she wasn’t. He had his own suspicion. However, at the bottom of the next ramp, they encountered their first Aku, and ramps made more sense.
“They look like turtles,” Drake said.
“Turtle soup is tasty,” Rex said.
“You just ate,” Sonya muttered, elbowing him. Rex shrugged in answer—it took a lot of food to keep their largest brother running.
“Just saying. Turtle makes for good soup.”
There were three of the Aku in a circle, their long, flexible necks all turned and craned, bringing faces toward them. They were more like rocks with eyes and a mouth than turtles, which Shadow knew Chelsey, at least, would immediately consider cute. The eyes were situated forward and seemed to have an external lid, more resembling a mechanical iris than a lid. The eyes themselves were black-on-black and held an unmistakable feeling of intelligence. They were all staring at Rex.
“I don’t think they’d appreciate being soup, brother,” Sonya said, her voice low and wrapped with a laugh.
One of the Aku turned his big rocky head and stared at Ulan, then spoke. “Why Zuul here?” Shadow’s translator rendered their speech into clear, if stilted, English.
“So they’re intelligent?” Drake asked.
“We are,” the Aku replied.
Shadow glanced at his translator. The device had a small display to show information. He tapped the display, which told him the Aku were speaking Lumar.
“Zuul are with Humans,” Ulan explained, looking at Drake. “This Niss, who run Aku.”
Niss turned its attention back to Drake, its strange, almost mechanical eyes blinking in the gloomy cavern, then spoke. Their language had a gurgling sound that wasn’t translated. Then it spoke again. “Never meet Zuul work with Human.” Shadow’s translator didn’t have to render this, because it was in understandable English.
“Bloody hell,” Drake said. “They’re laborers?” he asked Ulan. Iban had lost interest in the goings on and was playing with a strange rock on the cluttered floor.
“They slaves,” Ulan explained.
“What?” Shadow asked, his ears back and eyes narrowed.
“Slaves,” Ulan repeated, drawing out the word more carefully, apparently thinking Shadow was too slow to understand.
“Slavery is illegal in the Union,” Sonya said. Ulan stared at her without responding. “Shadow?”
“It’s not that simple,” Shadow said. “Union laws are both incredibly limited, and extremely absolute in many areas. Slavery isn’t one of those areas.” He thought about his reading on the subject. “You cannot commit genocide upon an intelligent race. However, if the race isn’t part of the Union, you enter one of those limited areas. I assume the Aku aren’t part of the Union. I don’t know; I’ve never heard of them until now.”
“Really wish Dad had let us have pinplants,” Sonya said. This was one of those times they all nodded in agreement.
“How did you get here?” Shadow asked Niss.
“My clan was captured by KzSha,” Niss explained, his English clearer than before. “Some eaten, others trained, others unknown.”
“Trained?” Rex asked. “What do you mean?”
“KzSha teach us jobs like mining and hazardous waste management.”
“They work you until you die?” Sonya asked, disbelieving.
“No, not die.”
“I don’t get it,” Shadow admitted.
“Aku not hurt by radiation or chemicals,” Ulan explained.
“So they’re armored radiation- and chemical-proof super bots?” Drake asked.
“We are not bots,” Niss said. His voice was neutral, sounding insistent but not offended. One of the alien’s arms came up, revealing short, dexterous appearing digits, which pointed at Shadow. “What this one said about the law is effectively correct. There is little detail about how the anti-genocide laws enforced by Peacemakers are enforced in regard to minor races lacking Union affiliation.”
Shadow’s jaw fell open in astonishment. He noticed his siblings were all staring as well. Ulan had moved over to examine the same rock Iban was staring at.
“Niss,” Sonya said, “please don’t take this the wrong way, but we thought you were just laborers.”
“We are,” Niss replied. “And slaves.”
“But your speech, your reasoning and knowledge, doesn’t suggest you’re simply laborers. Tell me about your society, please.”
Without fanfare, Niss told them about his home world. A world darker than most, with an orange star bathing it in high levels of radiation. They burrowed out dwellings through rocky outcroppings next to swamps, which they preferred over solid ground. Their people had existed in small tribes for eons, sharing a rich verbal history, and no real conflict. Part of their methods of communication, to adapt to the low light, involved a universal written language, scratched into rocks or mud. When they encountered the various written languages of the Union, it was easy for them to understand them.
“They’re natural linguists,” Rex said.
“Among other things,” Shadow agreed. “Niss, you said you have a verbal history?”
“That is correct.”
“How long is this history?”
“In years on our world, it is 295,000 rotations around our sun. You are Zuul, so it is 320,000 rotations around your sun, but you speak English, from Earth, which would be 304,000 rotations.”
They all gawked again. “How do you know these figures?” Shadow asked.
The hand he had gestured with retreated into his huge shell. When it came back out, it held a slate, which had obviously seen better days. “Ifess, my mate, found this in a garbage dump 120 rotations ago on this dwarf world. It is still networked.” He tapped the display, and the logo of the Information Guild came up, showing the GalNet. “There is much information to remember.”
“How much have you memorized?” Drake asked.
“Somew
hat more than half,” Niss said. “We jump around a lot as information is needed. Humans are far back, so we went ahead and learned about them. We already learned about Zuul, since they fight here.”
“How much information do you think?” Drake asked Shadow.
“Half the GalNet?” Shadow shook his head. “There’s so much information in the GalNet, nobody on Earth has saved it all in one place.” He thought for a second. “Probably at least 10 exabytes, but I read a statement by one researcher in Sydney who thinks that if you include secondary references, it exceeds a zettabyte.”
Shadow looked at the unassuming Aku, who stared back at him with huge black eyes. “Niss, you’ve learned everything about Union law? Including mercenary law?”
“Yes,” the Aku replied.
Shadow smiled. “I’d like you to go over a contract.” Niss cocked his big head curiously.
* * *
Alan set the slate on the desk in his new quarters, shared with Captain Anderle, and rubbed his temples. The battle plan provided by Ifka was straightforward. A missile artillery bombardment against the Cartography Guild position 100 kilometers distant. The barrage had no real chance of success or even of doing serious damage. It was a cover to allow two platoons of Lumar to perform end runs toward the enemy. Alan’s CASPers would advance under the barrage, attacking directly five minutes after the Lumar engaged the enemy.
“Simple and stupid,” Alan said to the empty room. Captain Jill Anderle was off on duty, while he reviewed the mission profile. Under her command, Silent Night had dueled with the opposition Zuul and Pushtal, slowly bleeding each other, but not making any real progress. Now with just one additional squad, Ifka seemed to think victory was all but assured. Alan knew better. “The little weasel is running out of time.”
All those mines spoke of quickly played out reserves of Astatine-222. Ifka would have to move the mine soon, and she was afraid of trying while under siege. On his slate were details on the mine, which was actually a collection of massive mobile industrial machines. The entire thing could pull up stakes and move to another location. It would probably be vulnerable during a move. Very vulnerable, was his guess.
“Bastard Zuparti wants to use us for a distraction. I don’t think so.” His problem was how to uphold his orders without violating the letter of the contract. On another slate was the contract in question. Other than his company being forced into it, the contract was as legitimate as any other he’d ever read. A cool 229 pages of details. His personal slate had the sort of low-level AI many merc commanders used. Developed by the Golden Horde, it was a useful tool for scanning contracts and finding problems. It said this one was legitimate, though it had several issues.
Chief among the issues was a potential forfeiture of assets in the event of non-completion. Such clauses weren’t uncommon, and usually accompanied a contract that involved a high value objective. The mercs would put up a bond, handled by the UCX (Union Credit Exchange), and if the objective was destroyed, the bond was forfeit. He hadn’t put up a bond; Jill had been convinced to put up Starbright.
“It was either that or be prisoners,” she’d explained shortly before the meeting with Ifka. That fact had contributed to his less than amiable attitude toward the Zuparti guildmaster.
Looking at the contract one more time, he couldn’t help but think something wasn’t right. He wished Dana was there. He’d married her for a lot of reasons, besides love, of course. One was her knowledge of the merc business. He was certain she’d find what was bothering him. She was a thousand light years away, back on Earth. As far a reach as his odds of surviving his current predicament.
With a sigh, he prepared the order of battle.
* * * * *
Chapter 10
Vergola Assault Base—E’cop’k System
Veska waved her tail broadly behind her, ensuring the sweep of it framed each side of her body repeatedly to draw Makori’s attention.
“Nillab spared you?” he asked, slitting his eyes and leaning back against the wall as though she’d interrupted a nap.
“The captain,” Veska said, snapping her jaw to emphasize the title, “is reviewing repairs up on the Gheshu, which I am not needed for.”
“How indispensable you have become,” he replied, dropping his tail low.
When he said nothing else and the moment stretched too long, she growled and shook herself, throwing off her pique. She had the better task on this posting, but Makori was no pup to be lured by temporary competition. The coiled energy twisting her gut would have no outlet here, unless she opened her mouth and used her words to explain what she needed, and that…
That would make it too real.
“How are the Humans?” Veska leaned to the side as though to peer past him, but the large male’s bulk blocked too much of the room beyond. Moving the Humans and all the Zuul who had evacuated the Paku and made it to the Gheshu down to the assault base had made the urgency of their reality more real—with the Gheshu barely operational, the assault base was the smarter posting…but also far closer to combat with those who had recently been allies.
“Bored.”
“And?”
“They’re Humans, Veska. There’s not a lot of ‘and’—they are what they are. And they are bored.” Makori crossed his arms, making a show of getting more comfortable in his lean, while also blocking the door further.
“We both know there’s plenty of ‘and’ with them. Are they angry? Resigned? Crawling through the ducts to attempt to take over the assault base?”
Makori tilted his head to glance behind him at that last, and she didn’t bother to swallow back her huff of laughter. He flattened his ears, but after a breath, his tail waved enough to signal her point.
“They are calm, for Humans. At first there was shouting, and some noises the translator indicated were nonsense about breeding and defecating, but A’kef came to restate his commitment to them as allies, and they trust in our honor.”
A pleasant surprise. Had Rex and his siblings shown them the faithfulness of Zuul? Some Sei had questioned if Zuul were born into honor, if they learned it from the clan while walking their path, or some combination of both. Perhaps these Zuul, raised so far from their true home, could answer that once and for all. Though if they were truly Hosh…
“Makori,” she said, pretenses forgotten. “Did A’kef tell you what clan the Earth pups actually are?”
He straightened, registering the change in her tone. “He did not.”
“He and the captain…they believe Rex, Ripley, Drake, Sonya, and Shadow are all that remain of Krif’Hosh.”
“But Krif’Hosh has been lost for…” Makori’s ears flicked, first one, then the other, and his eyes widened.
“For the stretch of the Earth pups’ lifetimes. You saw how they took to Eshtoo. I’ve seen true-born Zuul raised on old colonies who couldn’t figure it out. You know that a Sei of Cho’Hosh took an interest in them.” She heard the barest edge of an eager whine in her tone and swallowed, shaking herself again. “Think what it would mean, to have the Hosh complete again. Look at us now.” Her voice rose in urgency. “The Zuul are without a rudder. Krif’Hosh was always our scent leader in the dark of night. That’s where their name comes from.”
“The legends of dreamers.” Makori snorted, flicking his ears dismissively.
“Yes, the dreamers,” she said, thumping him on the chest hard enough to make him wince. “The first K’lak was from Krif’Hosh, as was every one before, until now. Why do you think we’ve been so indecisive as a race for the last 20 years? Look around you. The galaxy is about to catch fire.”
“More rumors.”
“Rumors? Are Humans driving Raknar rumors? Or images of them fighting Canavar? I heard whispers on a space station only last year of Dusman.”
This time Makori fixed her with a steely stare. Still, she could see uncertainty creeping through him. Eventually he shook his great head. “I…” Makori snapped his jaw, tail high. “Did you come here to speak
of the Hosh, or check on the Humans? The Earth pups are far from us now, and from what I hear, our enemies once more.”
“They are no such thing.” Veska longed to bite sense into him. “And both, as they are interrelated. The Humans are the chosen clan of a Hosh. Nothing happens by accident. Nothing. They should be treated with all honor.”
“As they are.” The large male pushed off the wall, gesturing behind him. The cells were all open into one common space, and comforts of furniture and food had been brought to them. It seemed more a favored squad’s barracks than a prison.
“They are still penned, like pups without sense.” She lifted her lip, staring him down. “Let me in.”
“Veska—”
“On this contract, I have the captain’s ears. I am the onnogo, Makori, and this is more important than Eshtoo. Coshke moves in this, and I move with the gods.” She stood tall, her shoulders set, her tail still. Her eyes remained unwavering on his. “If there is punishment to follow, I alone will take it. Let. Me. In.”
He dropped his gaze first, tilting his chin back to expose the length of his neck. She tamped down the wave of satisfaction—the gods did not reward smugness. The moment he moved aside, she brushed past him into the common room, making him move further out of her way.
She would not be smug, but she could enjoy her victory a little.
In the room, she sobered. Eleven Humans sat with such careful stillness, she couldn’t believe Makori hadn’t noticed it. Veska had spent some time with Rex, a smaller amount with his siblings, and even less with their Human compatriots, but even that little had been enough to know they weren’t sitting in here relying on honor, no matter how real that honor was.