by Gun Brooke
Beaux looked as frustrated as Moon felt, but she merely stalked over to the communication console and confirmed that she had received the mission. “All right. Time to go.” Her voice mellowed some. “You’ll have your house back, and I’ll be able to apprehend Kragh and Drak.”
Bewildered, Moon strapped on her gear and moved over to the hatch. After checking the outside via the small screen next to it, she opened it with practiced ease. “Time to go, then.” And after that? Moon wanted to scream the words at the top of her lungs, but something in Beaux’s noncommittal demeanor kept her silent.
Dancer was ready for them, and Moon could tell he was agitated.
“What’s up, little man?” she asked, pressing her nose to his.
Dancer only shook his body like animals do when they’re wet and looked in the direction of the tree house.
“Yes, that’s where we’re going,” Beaux said and hoisted her rifle. She closed the hatch and began walking back the way they had arrived last night.
The morning was pale and misty, and the scent Moon knew came from the moss and molten leaves on the ground helped sustain the exotic ambience. She walked behind Beaux, and it didn’t escape her that their roles from yesterday were reversed. Today, Beaux was leading the way and looking preoccupied, bordering on angry. Well, she had good reason. She had been fooled to touch and care for a slave, which would nauseate most Cimerians.
They made good time, and soon they saw the other teams. Nia, Tracks, and Somas stood behind a dense group of trees, and Nia used her advanced oculars.
“She’s spotted some movement beneath the tree. They’re lowering things in small crates. Not sure what that’s about.” Somas looked into his ocular but shook his head. “I don’t have good enough resolution. What do you see, Nia?”
“Small boxes. Some metal.” Nia pressed sensors and levers on her ocular. “There’s some text…or some symbol.” She frowned and waved her free hand behind her. “Tablet. Quick.”
Tracks was ready for her. He gave her what she needed and then steadied the ocular while she punched in commands. “Now you can see what I see,” Nia said and held the tablet behind her for Beaux.
Standing next to Beaux, trying to not let on how much the closeness hurt, Moon glimpsed what Nia saw through the ocular. Without thinking, she reached out and yanked the tablet from Beaux. Staring at it, she began to tremble.
“What are you doing?” Beaux looked over her shoulder.
“Look at the boxes. Around the clasp.” Moon pointed at the fastening device where Nia had zoomed in even closer. “The colors.” Blue and green matter oozed around the clasps on four boxes. The symbols looked like a warning, but Moon wasn’t sure.
“Moon’s right,” Beaux said, and handed the tablet back to Tracks. “They’re going to transport the tissues and fluids in them. But how does that help them? They must know we’ll find these boxes, no matter how small they are, and confiscate them. Hell, airlock them if we have to.”
“Couldn’t that be it?” Somas asked, scratching his growing beard. “They’ll let us deal with these boxes and think we got it all before letting them board the Empress. When they’re in space, and then while disembarking once we reach Territorial space, they’ll walk what they did manage to smuggle on board right past us.”
“Damn it.” Beaux rubbed her face. “They know we’re out here, watching. Of course they do. This is one big production to fool us.”
“They’re shrewd, I’ll give them that,” Tracks said. “Still, they’ll have to be a lot smarter to find a way to move the stuff onto the ship. Our biohazard scanners will go off if any container whatsoever has as much as a molecule of it where it can be detected. It’ll incinerate it.”
Moon flipped forward her hooks and climbed up one of the sturdier trees. Carefully moving out on a branch, she looked over at her house. It appeared intact, and she couldn’t see any of her things on the ground around it. Even the fishing poles sat where she had left them several days ago after spotting the shuttles. Something was wrong, and she couldn’t figure out what they were missing. Tracks was right. Even the cruise ships were outfitted with state-of-the-art bio filters. If anyone contracted something unexpected or generally rare while on shore leave, or during hunting parties, they were quarantined in special areas. Well, some were. If it was a passenger, the quarantine section was as luxurious as their quarters. Well-educated medical professionals took care of them and waited on them no end. A crewmember didn’t enjoy the same luxury but had to settle for a stark hospital room. Slaves were airlocked. With no warning and without mercy, if the bio filter alerted the ship’s physicians that a slave carried a bacteria or virus that was not on the approved list—and concerning slaves, the list was very short—it was only about a mere flip of a lever.
So, how did Kragh intend to do this? As if he’d felt her thoughts, she saw him descend the rope ladder. Behind him, someone lowered what looked like a makeshift gurney. Moon could make out another person, also with a white shock of hair, lying motionless on it. Drak. It had to be. Her mind started to reel. The answer came to Moon so fast, she nearly lost her grip on the branch as she turned to slide down. Dancer jumped out of her way at the last moment as she landed next to the others. “I know what they’ve done. Or I think I do.” Looking at Beaux, she inwardly begged her to not let her new knowledge of Moon’s status color the trust they’d built.
“What do you mean?” Beaux stepped closer, her eyes as sharp as ever, and Moon hoped this meant Beaux still trusted her.
“The man on the gurney. Drak. I think they have infused it into him.”
“But that won’t help them get it past the filter.” Tracks shook his head.
“If he’s dead, it might.” Moon sighed impatiently. “On the ship where I served, once a person was dead, they were placed in a cryotube before being taken on board. Is that your procedure as well?”
Beaux gaped. “It is. I’ve had to bring back bodies only four times since I bought the Empress, but we kept them in cryotubes until they were handed over to their next of kin.”
“Well, he sure looks dead, all right.” Nia lowered her ocular. “He’s not breathing, as far as I can judge. Moon has a point.”
“How can we make sure? If this isn’t their method, then we’re in danger of missing where they actually put the samples.” Beaux rubbed her neck.
Moon exchanged a glance with Dancer. Not about to ask permission or wait for the others to realize what she meant to do, she took off down the slope toward her house, Dancer right behind her. She careened just behind some bushes and hoped they were enough to hide them. She thought she heard Beaux call out, but it was too late. She knew of only one way to find out if they had placed the tissues inside Drak’s body. As she skidded farther down the slope, she crouched deeper and readied her knife.
Chapter Twenty-five
Beaux couldn’t stand by when Moon and Dancer disappeared down toward the tree house. With Tracks, Nia, and Somas right behind her, she ran after Moon, nearly toppling over when her feet caught on some roots. She righted herself, cursing, and held on tight to her rifle. Ripping at her communicator, she commanded her other teams to move in. Beneath her, Moon ran to the left, made a sharp turn, and disappeared out of sight.
“Damn it,” Beaux said under her breath and heard her words echoed by Tracks.
“There she is,” Nia called out. “By the boulders.”
Slowing to make out where Nia was pointing, Beaux saw how Moon was leaping over the obstacle and charging toward the two men carrying the gurney. Picking up speed again, Beaux knew she would be too late. Whatever Moon was up to, this was a suicide mission, as the men next to the gurney, and Kragh, were all armed and wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. Squinting, Beaux saw that Moon wasn’t holding her sidearm, but a large knife. What the hell was she thinking? Why not just fire away if she meant to kill someone?
The men hadn’t spotted Moon yet, as she came at them from a narrow angle from behind. Beaux wanted to shout a warni
ng to the woman who had set her universe aglow, but it would ruin Moon’s element of surprise, if that was what she was counting on. Why was she acting alone? Was her admission to having lived as a slave part of it? And if so, how? Beaux only knew that Moon couldn’t be allowed to sacrifice herself, because that was what her actions implied.
As Beaux and the others reached the boulders, Moon was only steps behind the man carrying the head of the stretcher. She slammed into him from behind, taking him completely by surprise. He dropped the handles of the stretcher, and Beaux watched in disbelief as Dancer jumped and landed on the man’s head with all four paws. Whether the blow killed him or merely knocked him out, she couldn’t tell.
“Come on!” Beaux jumped the boulders and kept on running. Her lungs ached by now, as she was still suffering from the smoke inhalation of the day before, but she couldn’t let that stop her. Moon needed her, and she had to stop Kragh’s insidious plans. To her horror, Moon now jumped up onto the other stretcher bearer’s back and pressed the blade against his neck.
“No,” Beaux whispered as she ran. If Moon thought nobody would shoot at her because she had one of the Ilienta minions at knifepoint, she was mistaken. Kragh would sacrifice anyone who stood in his way.
Kragh and four men dressed in Ilienta security officers’ uniforms had turned around when the first man cried out in surprise and pain. Now they pulled their sidearms and aimed at Moon and the man who was trying to shake her off. Projectiles pierced the air, leaving red-tinged track marks for a second before breaking up and disappearing.
“No!” Beaux halted, raising her rifle and taking out the man closest to Moon. She hit him center mass, and he fell to the ground, but she suspected he wore a protective vest and didn’t take her eyes off him as she started running again. She saw another man go down and realized that her people were firing as well.
Dancer dug his teeth into the man Moon was battling, sinking his fangs into his calf. The man yelled and fell to the ground and found himself dragged away. Moon rolled to the side and scrambled over to Drak, who lay on his side, still strapped to the overturned stretcher. Righting it, Moon sliced off the restraints and then pulled the blanket off. Beneath it, Beaux could see how Drak wore only shirt and trousers. Moon placed her knife against his stomach and held it there as she locked her eyes on Kragh.
Beaux was only ten meters away and saw to her astonishment how Kragh stopped and raised his hands in a placating gesture.
“Don’t desecrate his body. His widow deserves to have the burial ceremony with her husband intact,” Kragh said.
“Then you shouldn’t have cut him open,” Moon shouted. “I can count six places on his torso where you’ve meshed his skin.”
“That’s where Lestarion shot him.” Kragh smiled, a sickening grimace.
“Six entry points, perfectly spaced?” Moon snorted. “I think not.”
Beaux walked closer, keeping her rifle trained on Kragh. She trusted her crew to have the others under control. “Don’t take your eyes off the tree house. We’re not sure, but more Ilienta people may be up there,” she said quietly.
“Got it, sir,” Nia said from Beaux’s left. “So far no movements.”
“Moon. Step away. We’ve got this,” Beaux said.
“No.” Moon shook her head. “They’ve saturated this man with what Kragh stole from the being. Look at his skin.”
Beaux stepped closer, sending the prone body a quick glance. “Yes, I see. Blue-tinted. But he’s dead, so—”
Losing her balance, Beaux first thought she had been shot. Only after a few moments did she realize she wasn’t the only one staggering while trying to regain her balance. The ground shook violently beneath them.
“An earthquake!” Somas shouted and knelt next to Beaux. He was still aiming at Kragh and his men.
“No. Not a quake,” Nia said and got up, holding her left hand protectively against her chest while directing her sidearm at the man Dancer had dragged to the side with the others. “Look!”
Beaux crawled toward Moon but stopped when she saw the crack opening a few meters behind the gurney. “Moon. Watch out!” She held out her hand. “Come over here. Please.”
“I can’t.” Moon was still pressing the tip of the blade against Drak’s breastbone. “Keep your distance, Beaux. This is…I have to do this.” She met Beaux’s eyes, her own a dark glow rather than the golden hue Beaux found so amazing. “I’m not sure why, but I have to make sure.”
This didn’t make sense to Beaux. What was Moon talking about? Why was she holding her knife against the chest of a dead man like that?
Kragh and the other men were now moving away from the opening in the ground that was growing larger with each passing moment.
“Now, now,” Somas said, waving forward two of the other teams. “Cover them. Don’t let them escape. You’re heading for the brig, Kragh. Drop your weapons. Now.”
“What for? You’re the one attacking us.” Kragh clearly tried to sound his usual silky self but failed rather miserably and let his sidearm fall to the ground. A young ensign collected it and the ones belonging to the Ilienta security officers.
Beaux barely registered what was said, as she didn’t want to take her eyes off Moon. The air around them was vibrating. The humming reminded Beaux of the sound the darragons’ wings made from a distance, but also of the noise that Dancer’s kind made.
The crevice was now a massive hole, and Beaux gripped her rifle harder, readying herself to fire or yank Moon away from danger.
“Oh, damn…” Tracks breathed next to Beaux. She stared in disbelief. Something transparent, golden-tinted, appeared at the edge of the large hole in the ground. Soon, the long, narrow shape was joined by a second, and then a third. When more of what was emerging showed, Beaux determined that it was a huge, yet slender, hand.
“Another one of those large beings?” Nia murmured.
“I’m not sure,” Beaux whispered. “Not the same sound. Not the same colors.”
The being climbed up slowly, its head moving from side to side like a serpent looking for its prey. Large eyes, dark bronze in color, scanned the scene before the being rose. At least ten meters tall, it hovered above them. At first, Beaux thought it was wearing something resembling a cape, but she then realized this was part of the being’s skin. It was laced with veins and transparent enough for them to see the golden liquid that flowed through them.
“So beautiful,” Nia murmured. “And so scary.”
Behind the being, several more of its kind emerged from the hole. Some were like the first one, others like the ones from the clearing by Dancer’s caves. Eventually, eight beings stood between the hole and the stretcher, humming quietly. This sound didn’t hurt Beaux’s ears. Instead, she found it oddly soothing, calming. Only when she found herself ready to lower her weapon did she understand.
“Sharpen your senses,” she called out. “Their humming has sedating effects.”
The first being snapped its triangular head with the long tentacles resembling hair toward Beaux and showed its teeth.
“No,” Moon called out, raising her free hand. “She means you no harm. Please.” Her voice trembled, and the hand clinging to the blade that had now pierced Drak’s skin in the center of his chest shook.
“Moon. Let go and come over to me. We can go through the forest to the Rapidfire.” Beaux knew her words were futile, but she had to try. “I want you to come with us. I couldn’t care less that you were once a slave.”
Moon flinched and gave a muted sob. “I can’t.”
“You were a slave?” Nia asked, gasping. “Me, too.”
Rigid now, Moon turned her attention to Nia. “What?”
“I was a slave on Cimeria Minor. The captain bought me and set me free.” Nia spoke fast, and Beaux knew she was trying to convince Moon to leave Drak’s body and join them.
Moon shifted her gaze to Beaux, and the gentleness in her tearful smile broke Beaux’s heart. “So—you could have truly cared?” she a
sked huskily.
“You know I already do.” The surreal situation with the beings towering so close, Kragh and his men at gunpoint, and Moon acting strange in a way that made it impossible for anyone to just run over to grab her made it difficult for Beaux to breathe. She took a few steps closer, but the humming increased, and she grew dizzy.
“No.” Again raising her hand, warding them off, Moon shook her head. “Stay back. You too, Dancer.” Dancer growled but remained by the man he’d taken care of, guarding him. Moon lifted her face to the beings. “You have to take this man. Do you understand?”
The beings didn’t move, but the humming changed. If that was an answer, Beaux couldn’t tell. Moon’s attention was still directed toward the beings when Drak’s arms jerked.
“What the fuck?” Tracks raised his weapon and aimed at the pale man. “He moved. Did you see?”
“I did.” Her mouth dry, Beaux aimed her weapon at Drak as well. His legs twitched now, and to her horror, his eyes opened slowly. A quick glance at Kragh showed that this was not something he’d seen coming.
“Move away from him,” Beaux called out and ignored the humming as she hurried toward Moon. Something was wrong, and Moon was too close.
Drak’s arms flew up and grabbed hold of Moon’s long ponytail. With his mouth open in a silent scream or, worse, prepared to take a voracious bite, Drak drew in a deep, raspy breath.
“No!” Beaux stopped and took aim, but before she had time to pull the trigger, Moon had driven the blade into the chest of the pale man before her, tugging it down in a horrible, slicing movement. Beaux watched in horror how Drak seemed to hang on to Moon’s hair but then fell back, blue-green fluids oozing out of him.
A loud hissing noise followed by a loud bang indicated that someone had fired a sidearm. Beaux looked back at her team, but they all seemed transfixed by the sight of the gutted man in the pool of alien fluids. As Beaux stared back at the gruesome scene, she felt as if she were moving in slow motion. Perhaps the humming was messing with her mind? When she finally could focus on Moon again, she saw her lying on her side across Drak’s body.