“Auts are idiots.” Brandoff jumped the stair railing then scrambled to where her twin sat. “No more delays. How’d it go?”
“Like you said, my sister, Autlachs are idiots.” Cance kicked off one boot, then the other, then settled confidently back in her seat. “Especially the rural dirt clodders here on Langus. They actually believe I’m going to help them get rid of the Sarian base.”
“They bought your ‘preserve our farmlands’ line then?”
Cance smiled broadly. “Completely and unquestionably. Fear spreads rapidly among the uninformed.”
“Yeah.” Brandoff’s yawn accentuated her growing number of wrinkles. Life on Trimar aged one hard. “Spreads like flame on dry saw grass.”
“Exactly. Now get upstairs and rest.” Cance cast quick disapproval of her twin’s gaunt face. “I’ll wait for Starnie.”
“Nah, I’m fine. A hit will pick me right up.”
“You haven’t slept in nine days. A hit won’t do you a bit of good. Don’t waste it. We may need it later.”
“Dammit, Cance. You’re too damn tight sometimes.” Brandoff’s disappointment seemed genuine. “All right then. I’ll check the old man on my way up.” She clambered up the stairs. Just because she needed sleep didn’t mean she couldn’t take a small dose as well. Another rush and a little sleep were far preferable to a long rest and a crash. Brandoff patted the pocket containing her inhaler.
“Throw me down some hair dye before you turn in. I’m beginning to fade.” Brandoff tossed Cance the package then settled into the upstairs apartment but not before inhaling a healthy dose of prock.
In the bar’s small kitchen area, Cance filled the basin with warm water. The reflection in the basin’s backing caught her attention and she paused, considering it between inhaler puffs. The prock rushed through her, cresting then settling her into numbing alertness. She was wide-awake and angry at the unfamiliar reflection that returned her gaze. She looked nothing like a guardian Taelach should. Her white shock of hair had been allowed to grow out to her shoulders and was the dark shade of an Autlach. How depressing. Cance tugged a fading lock. For effect, she blinked hard, allowing her eye lenses to settle back into place. Was this what her birth parents looked like? “Not that it matters,” she told the sharp-chinned image that talked back. “They were only Auts.”
Cance applied the dye pack’s contents then removed the combing stick from the package and pushed the color deep, the excess dripping into the basin and expanding as discolored rings on the water. Her hair completely saturated with color, she quickly rinsed it, then, towel wrapping her head, cast another long look into the reflective backing, eyes drawn to her neck until the ever-present anger spun into fury. “Damn you, Belsas Exzal!” Cance smashed her fist into the backing, denting the metal so it warped her image. “Damn you for the Aut-loving bitch you are! If we’d won the Taelach War, I’d be ruling over the Kinship, you’d be dead, and Chandrey would still be with me. Auts would serve Taelachs and everything would be as it should: MINE!”
Chapter Seven
The Hiding Caves are the essence of survival in troubled times.
—Taelach saying
The journey to Langus served as a sharp cultural awakening for LaRenna. She had never been outside Taelach lands except for necessary travel and that had taken place strictly at night. Taelach children were closely protected by their raisers in fear they would be taken in an ill-fated reunion with their Autlach birth parents. This rarely if ever happened, but the old warnings were still repeated, just as stories of alleged Taelach treacheries were passed down in Autlach families.
The launch stop proved an uneventful place, nothing more than a tiny burrow of a port set in the narrow northern mountain ranges of the Reisfall continent. LaRenna gave the pilot the travel card Master Yeoman Qualls had provided her and stepped aboard the launch. It was far from crowded, but she chose a seat in the rear anyway, pulling her head deep into her cloak. This probably wasn’t necessary, for the launch’s other occupants were ignoring her presence, but it made her feel a little more at ease.
With a short jolt, the passenger aerolaunch rose and the trip began. LaRenna leaned back in her seat, enjoying the vibrant scenery that had escaped notice on her nocturnal journeys. The launch followed the slow roll of the mountains until it reached the southernmost peaks, then it lurched upward, engines straining to meet the incline of the high passes. When they reached the summit, the pilot paused, allowing his passengers to take in their surroundings as the full wonder of Reisfall’s Glory Land made its awe-inspiring appearance on the horizon.
LaRenna had heard dozens of stories about the Glory Land as a child, but not one did it justice. It was an extreme combination of plains and canyon lands, buckling and breathing for thousands of kilometers. At its highest points it bounded with blowing flower grasses and countless wandering Sarian herd beasts. The lowest points hid among the deep canyons, some of which had never been mapped, at least not to the knowledge of the Autlach. There, buried deep within the Hiding Caves, lay the secrets of Taelach self-preservation. Chandrey had taught her how to read the ancient marker signs to locate them. They were the last strongholds the Taelach could flee to in times of peril.
It all passed by too quickly for LaRenna, for she was still lost in thought when Polmel’s dark skyline pierced the afternoon haze. At the sight of it, she felt a shot of nauseating anxiety. It was a spiraling, walled shell of civilization that buzzed with the traffic of Sarian commerce. Pollution reeked, the streets were crowded, and the din was deafening. She hated it. Yet, in the scheme of things, it served a vital purpose she had to grudgingly respect.
The launch’s maneuvering thrusters fired as they slowly descended to a docking platform. Passengers gathered their belongings and waited to disembark. LaRenna mustered her courage and retrieved her own bag from under the seat. “Well,” she whispered with a wary gaze to the platform below. “No one said this was going to be easy.”
A jolt signaled touchdown, the landing locks hissing and grinding as they secured to the platform receptors. The doors slid open and smothering humidity flooded the compartment. LaRenna gasped as the heavy air filled her lungs with suffocating pressure. An older Autlach woman in front of her turned back to speak, her forehead beading with moisture. “Polmel’s dampness can be unbearable, can’t it?” She seemed to take LaRenna’s appearance in stride. “Don’t concern yourself with your hood, my dear. Everyone in Polmel knows a Taelach when they see one. There’s almost as many of your kind here as mine.” LaRenna shifted uneasily at the unexpected attention. “You won’t be given any trouble while in public.”
They stepped off the launch and the woman showed the platform sentry her travel card. LaRenna pulled back her hood for identification, produced her card, and gave it to the sentry as well. He read it then passed it back with a salute to match his begrudged tone. “Have a good trip to Langus, third officer.”
“Langus?” The woman had lingered. “Well, young lady, that’s where I’m heading as well, at least a day or so.” She swiped at the perspiration that ran down her face. “My two youngest sons and their families live in a farming compound on the edge of the Balleye Breaks. I’m heading there for a quick visit on my way to Saria Proper. Beautiful country, the Balleye Breaks, you’ll have to visit them sometime during your stay.” She walked toward the archway at the platform head. Her left foot dragged along the ground as she moved, giving her an odd limp. After a rather amused glance back at LaRenna’s apprehensive face, she beckoned her to come closer. “The port at Polmel is near impossible to navigate if you’ve never been here. Carry my bag, child, and I’ll take us to our platform.”
LaRenna gratefully accepted the woman’s generosity, relieved to know she wouldn’t have to find her way through the honeycomb of walkways and landing platforms alone. She took the extra bag and followed. Keeping up with the old woman proved a challenge as they made their way through the crowds. She wove skillfully in and out of the throngs of populace,
despite her obvious infirmity.
By the time they reached the Langus transport, LaRenna was exhausted. The weight of her baggage and cloak had drenched her in perspiration, causing everything she wore to stick to her skin. They stopped by a peddler cart at the edge of a vacant platform. “I’m parched!” declared the Autlach, fanning herself. The cooling halted when she noticed LaRenna. “Gracious me, child, but you’re half-drowned! Why don’t we get a drink?”
LaRenna nodded her heavy head in agreement.
“I’ll get us something before we board. Goodness knows the transport doesn’t serve enough to keep an insect alive, much less a pretty young woman such as you. Are you hungry?”
“The heat,” LaRenna answered as she shook the hair from her sweating neck. “It’s made me half ill.”
“Understandable. I’ll get us some water and a few bush fruits for later.” She addressed the peddler and purchased the items. Taking back her bag, she handed LaRenna a large cup of water. “I didn’t let him ice it. The cold will cramp you in this heat.” LaRenna looped her bag over her shoulder, drew a folded Autlach bill from her pocket, and gave it to the woman, who took the money and placed it along with two small fruits in LaRenna’s cloak pocket. “No, child, don’t insult me,” she said in a mothering way. “You see, I birthed a Taelach daughter who would be around your age now. I would like to think someone somewhere would show her the same kindness.”
LaRenna squeezed the elder Autlach’s hand. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” beamed the woman. “I could tell it was your first solo outing. Now, let’s board before the last-minute rush.” They found the transport sentry and presented their cards again. He gave them each a cabin number as he handed the cards back. “Fourth berth, blue level,” mumbled the woman. “Where are you at?”
“Twelfth berth, orange level.”
“Well, I guess this is where we part, young Taelach. Thank you for assisting an old lady on her way.”
“I hardly think it was me who gave assistance.” LaRenna smiled.
The woman shook her head, bouncing the neatly looped gray braid on her neck. “Still, I’m in your debt.” Then she paused to ponder their meeting. “We never exchanged names, did we?”
“No, I don’t believe we did.”
“Well, allow me to introduce myself.” She bowed reverently, with a grace the Autlach seldom extended their paler relatives. “I’m Nyla Smalls of the rural Autlach settlements of Saria Three.”
LaRenna returned her courtesy. “And I’m Third Level Kimshee LaRenna Belsas most recently of the Training Grounds here on Saria Four.”
“Belsas?” Nyla’s delicate eyebrows rose in surprise. “As in Belsas Exzal, Taelach of All?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Taelach Belsas, this definitely has been a pleasure. Your guardian raiser is a quality stateswoman. Her posting on the High Council has done much for Autlach-Taelach relations. I hope you do as well as she has.” With that, Nyla Smalls shuffled down the transport corridor and disappeared from sight.
A peculiar sense of emptiness fell over LaRenna when she’d gone. Sighing, she recited her cabin number again and took the level lift to her deck. Berth twelve was a double cabin on the starboard side of the transport. She hung her cloak on one of the pegs above the compartment’s luggage area and stowed her bag. The aft seating offered a better view so she took her cup to one of the reclining chairs facing that direction, sitting just as the cabin door slid open.
An Autlach couple entered. The man was overly slim, possessing a face that seemed incapable of expressing any emotion other than disdain. His wife, some five passes younger than LaRenna, possessed an apple-cheeked face still bright with young eagerness though she was very pregnant. She froze in the doorway when she saw their cabin mate. “Flannery,” she whined in a high nasal wheeze to ruin the pleasantness her eyes still held. “Do we have to share a cabin with her?” Her arms wrapped protectively around her protruding stomach. “Think of the baby.”
“We were lucky to get any cabin on this transport,” he replied as he led her to the seat directly across from LaRenna. “You’ll just have to live with it. This little half-grown snit won’t do you or the baby any harm.” The he turned toward LaRenna, revealing the sneer under his wiry mustache. “Will you, girl?”
“Hardly!” LaRenna growled in her deepest voice. Legs curled underneath her body, she scowled out the window, trying to ignore the occasional glares and underhanded comments of her unwanted traveling companions. If this was the type of treatment she could expect, maybe becoming a Kimshee wasn’t such a good idea after all. She desperately hoped there were more like Nyla out there.
Chapter Eight
Be wary! You never know who your true enemy is.
—Sarian military saying
The Commons were teeming with business when Krell arrived. Hood high against the day, she crept into the dining plaza, taking a quiet corner table. The spindly Autlach waiter spotted his newest customer and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later carrying a small tray. “It’s been a while, Krell. Where have you been keeping yourself?”
Krell pushed back her hood until it bunched behind her ears then peered up, smiling. “At the base more than is good for my sanity, Russ. What’s for breakfast?”
“Your usual, brown bread and tea.” Russ set a plate on the table then laughed at the crushed expression Krell offered in return. If any one thing gave him pleasure, it was teasing his lankiest customer. “Something wrong?”
“No sweet jams?”
“But of course!” With an exaggerated flourish, he laid a jam pot before her. “I know better than to serve a Taelach bread without sweet jams.” Russ’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “You’re obsessed with sweets, the whole lot of you.”
“We are not.” Krell tried to appear offended while she layered the jam.
“You never see an Aut spread jam like that.”
“It’s not that thick,” she mumbled between bites. “And I’ve never seen an Aut spread jam at all.”
“It’s a good three fingers deep.” Russ cringed. “Ugh! How can you eat that?” He stepped back from the table, ready to steer away from such indigestible conversation. “Now, I’ve worked here enough to know food is never your motive for being here, so what gives? Got a hot date or something?”
Krell had grown accustomed to Russ’s teasing and often enjoyed the opportunity to reciprocate, this time sticking her finger in the jam pot and sucking the sugar-covered digit clean just to see him wince.
“Smartass.” A snarl parted his mouth just enough to show the slight separation between his front teeth. “You know that makes me want to retch.” He snatched up the pot and placed it on a nearby table. “Who’s your date?”
“No date, just business.” Krell waved him way. “But he won’t show if you’re hanging around.”
“He?” Russ continued his caddish teasing. “Seeing Autlachs are we?”
“Now I’m going to retch.” Krell reached for the jam pot.
“All right, I’m going!” Russ thrust his fist to his chest as if stabbed. “I’m heartbroken.” He dabbed his face with his apron tail. One of the cooks witnessed his theatrics and bellowed for him to return to work. Bad enough they’d been forced into serving Taelachs, but did the staff have to call attention to the fact?
“Pity for you, Krell, I’m already taken.”
“Yeah, I know, to an ugly woman who can’t cook.” For once Krell could agree with the opposition. Russ was attracting far too much attention. She kept her tone low , hoping he would take the suggestion. “Go away; I have work to do.”
“Since when?” he snipped.
“I mean it.”
His jovial smile faded. “Serious, aren’t you?”
“As I can be. Don’t you have some work to do?” The cook leaned back out the window, this time launching a long line of obscenities in Russ’s direction.
“At least someone loves me.” He gathered the dishes fro
m Krell’s table and turned, pouting, toward the kitchen. “More tea, first officer?” Now he was overplaying being prim and solemn. So much so, Krell felt guilty for being short.
“Please, and thank you, Russ.”
“Ahh, no harm done.” He disappeared inside, returned briefly to refill her mug, and then left her alone.
Krell was beginning to doubt the lead’s validity when a heavy man in a faded wrap stepped onto the plaza. He squinted around the square then slowly approached. “You Taelach Middle?”
“See any other Taelachs about?” she replied coolly. “Who’re you?”
The man shifted uneasily. “Starnes Bane.”
“Well then, Starnes, you’re late.” Krell pushed the empty chair from the table. “Sit and tell me what you want with the Kinship.”
“I gotta be quick.” Starnes pulled his wrap tighter across his shoulders and glanced around. “If I don’t get back soon they’ll come hunting.”
“Who?”
“The two Taelachs who are holed up at my place.”
Krell eyed him charily. “The only Taelachs registered in this area are myself and a healer.”
“Nah, they wouldn’t register. These two are strange, cruel to be sure. Twins, too.”
A pit formed in Krell’s stomach. The vilest Taelach criminals came from undestroyed twins, but only one set was of recent times and they were acknowledged dead. Her voice remained low. “Twins?”
“Yes, alike in the face with odd markings on their necks.”
Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine Page 4