by J. S. Bailey
Errin had been carefully unscrewing the top from the salt shaker behind their back. They flung it forward now, scattering granules over the three newcomers, who were all completely veiled and gloved, which probably saved their lives.
The three of them screamed and dropped their weapons as they clawed at themselves, clearly expecting imminent demise even though the salt couldn’t get through their clothing. While thus distracted, Cadu slid in and gathered their weapons into his arms, then turned the guns onto them.
“Pip-pip! Why have you done this to us?” the lead Haa’la wailed, sinking to their knees. “If we remove our clothing, the salt will burn our bodies beyond recognition!”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you threatened my people,” Carolyn said.
“You have effectively declared war on the Haa’la race! We will bring our acid and burn you to the ground!” With a trembling hand, the Haa’la reached for an alien-looking comm unit clipped to their belt, pressed a button on it, and shouted out incomprehensible words that probably meant nothing good.
Carolyn sighed inwardly as she braced herself for whatever came next.
Maybe she should have stayed in bed.
Dalton huddled in Chumley’s swivel chair, wondering how long it would be before the three of them would have to resort to cannibalism for survival. Not that all three of them would be resorting to cannibalism—the strongest of the bunch would undoubtedly become the diner; and the weakest, the entrée. He’d already checked the cabinets and small refrigerator, finding little more than a box of whole-grain cereal, a stale loaf of bread, jelly, a packet of cheese, and some yogurt.
If they stretched it thin, it might last them a week.
They’d been in here over an hour already. Ashi’ii had gone out to the veranda to be alone, and Chumley had helped himself to so much of his minibar already that he lay on his bed, making incoherent noises and throwing yearning glances at the empty hamster cage.
Dalton had limited himself to one shot of whiskey, which he’d slowly been nursing while he awaited their doom.
I could be home right now working on a crossword puzzle, he thought. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he might be doing otherwise, since he’d lost all sense of time since boarding Ashi’ii’s vessel. It had been night, then. Perhaps dawn was breaking over Richport now, or perhaps the sun was setting. He imagined Carolyn standing in her office shouting orders at underlings, envisioned Cadu drumming his fingers on his desk while he waited for emergency calls, and thought of Errin patiently maintaining peace and order as crises tried to erupt around them.
He envied them all.
Dalton, you’re moping again, Darneisha’s voice said in his mind.
I don’t care, he thought back at her. You’d be moping, too, if you were trapped in another universe with a limited menu.
He pictured her standing over him with folded arms. You’ll stay trapped there if you don’t use your brain and think.
I’ve been thinking, he thought. If I activate the doorway, all our air will get sucked out into space, killing us instantly. I . . . don’t want to die.
That’s a first for you, isn’t it?
Dalton didn’t know what to say about that. He took a microscopic sip of whiskey and licked his lips. How can we get out of this Cube?
By opening the door, of course.
That isn’t an option.
Then you’ll have to be patient and wait until an option presents itself. You’re the bloody sheriff of Richport. You’ve fought hardships and won. You can win this, too, if you believe you can. Do something.
Darneisha’s voice fell silent. Of course it wasn’t actually Darneisha, but her memories living inside of him and twisting his own conscience into shapes he didn’t want to see.
You’re the bloody sheriff. Do something.
Could he do something about this situation? He didn’t feel that smart or clever. He’d just always done what needed doing, and managed to survive because of it.
What could he do, stuck inside a Cube?
He swiveled the chair around to face the security screen sitting on Chumley’s desk and gazed longingly at the planet that lay so far out of reach below them. He wasn’t sure if Leeprau was truly bigger on the screen than the last time he’d looked, or if it was just wishful thinking.
He scratched at his nose, which still hadn’t fully healed from his sunburn, and he thought about how Chumley had popped out of his Cube, urging him and Ashi’ii to hop in. How had Chumley known they were in any danger? There was no way to hear what went on outside the Cube when you were shut inside it, unless Chumley had some other trick up his sleeve he hadn’t mentioned yet.
And Dalton had only clumsily tugged the Cube out of Ashi’ii’s pocket about two seconds before Chumley appeared, so he couldn’t have seen anything, either.
Dalton cleared his throat. “Chumley?”
Chumley lifted his head a few centimeters off his pillow. “Hmm?”
“I have some questions.”
“Urgh.”
Dalton opened his mouth, paused, then said, “Do you even know where you are right now?”
“I’m in my kyooooob.” Chumley giggled, then groaned. “I told you I got it as a reward for saving someone’s cat, didn’t I?”
“I think so.”
“Well, actually . . . ”
“Look, I don’t care where you really got it from. I just need you to focus.”
“I didn’t steal it.” Chumley rolled his eyes. “See, there was this man, Bryan, who worked on the prototype. Met him in a pub, and he’d drank so much, he told me all about it. I thought if I could get my hands on it, I could sell it and use the money on Gran’s expenses. But he didn’t have it with him. I had to . . . I had to make him want to give it to me. And he did, eventually, as a gift. Took months, and then I left him because the Cube was the only thing I’d ever been after.”
“You didn’t sell it, though.”
“I couldn’t—too much guilt. I thought about finding Bryan and giving it back to him because I felt so ashamed about what I’d done, but I found out he’d been killed in an explosion at the plant not long after I last saw him. So I kept it.” Chumley winced and put a hand to his forehead. “Oh, biscuits.”
He hobbled up from his bed, rushed into the bathroom, and began retching into the toilet. Ashi’ii poked her head in through the other doorway and said, “What’s going on in here?”
“A little bit of regret, I think,” Dalton said, wishing he had a sufficient way of tuning out the noises from the bathroom.
“Disgusting.” She disappeared again, the woes of humanity evidently beneath her.
There came a flush, and Chumley emerged from the bathroom, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Somebody shoot me.”
“How did you know to come out of the Cube and save us?”
Chumley shivered and sat back down on his bed. “It was in my head. Like when I touched that Green? I saw things when I touched it, and I saw things now. Then, I mean. I think I’m gonna be ill again.”
He darted back into the bathroom, if swaying uneasily could be called darting, and Dalton jammed his fingers into his ears.
When Chumley returned this time, he flopped onto his side on the bed and curled into fetal position. “I saw the ship exploding in my head. I don’t know how I saw it. I don’t know if I want to know how I saw it.”
Dalton’s skin prickled. “You’re talking about precognition.”
“Doesn’t make any sense. There’s no such thing.”
“Gwendolyn Goldfarb?” Dalton reminded him.
“I thought she was a loony.”
“I don’t think so. She knew too much.”
“So you’re saying . . . ” Chumley’s forehead wrinkled. “You’re saying Gwendolyn and I have the same magic power.”
Dalton’s pulse raced the more he thought about it. “It makes sense, right? Only Gwendolyn’s mind isn’t what it used to be, so she doesn’t know she knows the future. She just spouts off the things she sees as she sees them.”
“But how did I get this power? I don’t want it!”
“A good thing you have it, though. This is the first time it happened to you?”
“Right.”
“Gwendolyn was more or less normal before she got lost in the desert.”
“Getting lost in the desert causes magical powers?”
“Think about it. What did you do out in the desert that you’d never done before? That hardly anyone has ever done, and lived to tell about it.”
Chumley blinked.
“It has leaves,” Dalton pressed.
“You don’t . . . really?” Chumley frowned. “Could Gwendolyn have touched a Green, too?”
“Maybe.”
“But she’s not dead.”
“You’re not dead, either.”
“Hmm.” It was almost painful, watching Chumley’s inebriated brain struggling to formulate coherent thought. “Didn’t you say a Green ate your arm?”
Dalton’s shoulder made an involuntary twitch. “Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you gain superpowers?”
“I have the feeling it wasn’t trying to communicate with me.”
“So you’re saying . . . a Green tried to communicate with me using its mind-powers, and I developed mind-powers because of it?”
“I can’t think of any other reason. Same thing must have happened to Gwendolyn.”
Chumley put a hand over his eyes. “Somebody wake me up.”
“You’re awake already.” Dalton flicked his gaze over to the veranda door. “So, could you maybe try to foresee how we get out of this?”
“Gravity.” Chumley rolled over onto his side, facing the wall.
“Is that precognition?”
A soft snore issued from the ex-conman.
With an aggravated huff, Dalton turned back to the screen. Before, he’d seen a sliver of black space past the curving disk of Leeprau, but now the planet’s surface filled the entire screen.
“Gravity,” Dalton said. “Makes sense.”
Chapter 20
While the Haa’la were preoccupied with avoiding Imminent Death by Salt, Carolyn, Monica, Cadu, and Errin rushed past them and slammed the meeting room door shut, wedging a chair under the knob for good measure.
“That won’t hold them,” Errin said matter-of-factly. “Teleportation, remember?”
Carolyn cursed. “It spares me from looking at them.”
“Unless they teleport into here.”
“We should sound the alarm again,” Cadu said, worry etched in deep lines on his face. “You know they’ve just called for reinforcements.”
“And they said they’ll rain acid on top of us,” Errin said.
“They can have their damned prisoner!” Carolyn cried. “I just want to be left in peace!”
Monica, who’d remained silent until now, appeared ashen. “I should go home and check on Gwendolyn. She was asleep when I left, and I don’t like leaving her alone.”
Carolyn nodded. “Go, then. And be careful.”
“I’ll let you know when I make it back,” Monica said. “So you know I’m safe.”
Monica turned on her heel and left the police station.
Cadu cleared his throat after a minute of silence broken only by the wailing Haa’la in the meeting room. “Um, Carolyn?”
“What?”
“I’m at a loss here.”
“You?” She wanted to laugh, but didn’t. “You’re one of the most cool-headed people I know. It’s why you have this job. Someone can lop their hand off, and you talk them through it like you’re sharing a recipe.”
“But this is different!” Cadu blurted. “These people are going to destroy our city! With acid!”
“It will take time for them to get here.” Carolyn’s mind raced with ideas. “We can go door to door and evacuate everyone.”
“But Carolyn, they can teleport.”
She put a hand to her throbbing forehead. “Individually, they can teleport. Maybe their ships can’t.”
“We can’t make that assumption! We don’t know anything about their tech—for all we know, they’ve already got a ship hovering over us ready to dump its load!”
Carolyn had nothing to say. In her silence, she could still hear the Haa’la in the meeting room moaning in agony—perhaps they wouldn’t teleport with salt on their clothes, not wanting to contaminate their brethren.
She could also hear something swishing.
“What’s that?” She looked from Cadu to Errin, who appeared equally baffled.
The swishing grew louder. It sounded like a thousand people wearing windbreaker pants jogging in unison, and then it stopped.
Carolyn’s comm unit exploded into life. “Carolyn? It’s Monica. I’m home, but Gwendolyn’s gone. Do you want me to see if she’s gone home?”
“Stay where you are,” Carolyn ordered, momentarily forgetting that Monica was a relative and not an underling. Her feet drew her toward the front of the police station, and when she stepped into the lobby, she could see out through the long, glass door.
She didn’t remember dropping the comm unit to the floor, but that’s where Monica’s voice came from when she said, “What was that noise?”
“Carolyn, what’s the matter?” Cadu asked, coming up beside her.
Carolyn couldn’t speak. Outside the police station door, filling the entire street for as far as she could see, were Greens, arranged in rows like an army.
Gwendolyn Goldfarb stood in front of them facing the police station, wearing a bright orange shawl and a wide-brimmed hat to match it, even though the sun wouldn’t be up for hours.
Gwendolyn turned to the crowd of Greens, said something to them that Carolyn couldn’t make out, and then turned back to the door and knocked on it. “Can you let me in?” she shouted. “My mind is clear for the moment, but I don’t know how long it will last. I have something important to talk about.”
Carolyn looked at the Greens and thought, You don’t say.
The surface of Leeprau was definitely closer now. Dalton studied a denser clump of civilization in the center of the screen while Ashi’ii leaned over his shoulder to get a better look.
“Do you recognize that place?” Dalton asked her.
“No.”
“It’s your planet.”
“Do you know every square kushkim of yours?”
“I was just hoping that . . . ”
He trailed off as Chumley waddled over to join them. “Wass goin’ on?”
“Oh, you’re alive,” Dalton commented, refocusing on the screen. “Ashi’ii and I were trying to determine where we’ll hit once we make landfall.” A new thought struck him; one he didn’t quite like. “Will we survive entering the atmosphere?”
Chumley rubbed at his mouth. “Don’t know. The Cube survived the hotel fire. I guess it was designed to be heat-resistant.”
“What’s our plan once we hit the ground?” Dalton asked.
Ashi’ii straightened. “We will find passage back to Molorthia Six so I can help my people fight.”
“Why not just evacuate?”
Ashi’ii gave him a withering look. “The Verdants have a head start and will likely be there soon, assuming they were able to hack into my ship’s flight log. If we evacuate, we will simply be followed, and the Verdants will kill us elsewhere instead.”
“So, it’s easier if you stay and fight.”
“That’s right.”
Dalton thought long and hard; a task which had never come easy for him. “We could negotiate some kind of deal.”
“You have the auth
ority to do this?”
“No, but I know the people who do. They might help protect you from the Verdants if you promise to stop burning all the vegetation.”
“Protect us, how?”
“We have flamethrowers and boomstones.”
Her head tilted to one side. “Boomstones?”
“Maybe you haven’t found them yet—there might not be any in the forests.”
“What are they?”
“Exploding rocks; sort of a bronze color. You throw them, they explode on impact. We have a few warehouses full of them.”
Ashi’ii contemplated this, then nodded. “You want us to stop burning the vegetation, though.”
“We’ll run out of air eventually. Come to think of it, you will too.”
She gave him a look, and he remembered that the Haa’la did not breathe oxygen. So much for solidarity. “We can discuss this more once we’ve arrived on Molorthia Six and I’ve had the chance to speak to Nydo Base. Can we at least agree on that?”
She held out a hand. Dalton grudgingly shook it. “It’s a deal.”
Carolyn opened the police station door, and Gwendolyn strode inside, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration.
The Greens stayed put but gently swayed in place like a forest on a calm, summer night.
“What . . . ?” Carolyn struggled for words. “Is this?”
Gwendolyn’s eyes gleamed. “I must speak quickly,” she said. “Before the walls return. When I was lost, some of the People found me on their way across the desert to a place of worship. A few of them wanted to kill me, but the rest were curious and didn’t think I posed a threat. I suppose even a plant can tell when something is dying.”
Carolyn glanced at the Greens again and fought to keep her pulse at a steady pace. “They were going to a place of worship?”
“They’re a deeply spiritual people, Carolyn. They still remember when we first came here—they thought demons had fallen from the sky to destroy them.”
“They must live a long time.”
“The ones who found me nursed me back to health as best as they could and let me go. Maybe they wanted to study me to know their enemy better.”