by Daniel Young
Woolzi ambled behind it and took something off a lower shelf. The creature set it in front of Jackson. “Take. Many blessings on you.”
“Thanks.” Jackson tore it open and pointed to one of the stools. “Take a load off.”
Roy complied while he shot suspicious glances at Woolzi. “If this is Keter, how did you wind up here? You’re miles out of your territory.”
“Everywhere Silden territory. Woolzi come for wife to marry.”
Jackson studied the creature while he taped fresh bandages on Roy’s injuries. “You’re married? I’m afraid our people don’t know as much about the Silden.”
“Woolzi no marry. Wife married another Silden. Woolzi free to come and go.”
“Why didn’t you go back to Silden, then?” Roy asked.
“Business too good. Keterans pay for drinks. Pay more than Silden. Keterans not intelligent species. Silden intelligent species.”
Jackson crumpled the empty wrappings in his hands. “Is that so?”
Woolzi studied Jackson with his huge, glossy eyes. “You Zenith?”
“That’s right.”
“You miles out of territory.”
“You’re right. We got shot down.”
Woolzi meandered back and forth behind the bar, doing something or other. “Keter Legion shoot down. Keter Legion shoot down all ships over Keter.”
Roy slapped the bar. “The Keter Legion! So it was those bastards that attacked our convoy?”
“Keter Legion no attack space. Keter Legion confined to Keter.”
Jackson frowned. “Are you saying those racers were the Keter Legion? They were small and fast. They bombed our ship after we got shot down.”
Woolzi nodded. “Small and fast.”
“It wasn’t Keter that attacked the convoy, then,” Roy acknowledged. “Those ships were huge and black and featureless. They were nothing like these racers.”
“Black ships—Krakzid,” Woolzi chimed in. “Sure, sure.”
Roy looked at Jackson. “Who?”
But this time, he was stumped, too. The name meant nothing to him. “Who are the Krakzid?”
“They new. Come from far. They nasty. They attack Silden more than once—even invade. Black. Smooth. Lightning guns.”
“Sounds like them,” Roy growled.
“And the convoy was in Silden space,” Jackson said. It wasn’t the most solid evidence in the universe, but at the moment he would take anything he could. “And you say these Krakzid invaded Silden before?”
“Sure,” Woolzi said. “But not others until now. Now Krakzid invades everyone. That new.”
“Who’s everyone?” Jackson asked.
Woolzi waved his arm at nothing. “Silden. Keter. Urval. Everyone.”
A huge lumbering creature trundled into the room through a different door, and its great weight vibrated the floor under Jackson’s feet. It walked on crooked legs that angled backward like a giant bird’s. It hunched its massive shoulders and carried a stack of seven steel containers in ropey, muscled arms that dangled almost to its knees.
Drooping skin folds jostled around its smooth, domed head and jowls. It glared at Jackson and Roy under heavy brows, and another skin fold pulled down its cheeks and the corners of its mouth. A smooth stretch of skin covered the middle of its face between the sharp eyes and the mouth.
It set its containers on the floor with a ground-shaking thump. It eyed Roy with the same expression that Roy bestowed on Woolzi.
“What the hell are you?” Its voice was guttural, but its diction was perfect.
“Bring here, Quort,” Woolzi chirped. “You supply shelves for tomorrow.”
Quort shot another glare toward Jackson and Roy. He lifted the topmost container and let it crash onto the bar. He kept stealing hateful scowls at the intruders while he unbuckled the container and started removing bottles from inside.
“This Quort Urval,” Woolzi announced. “Krakzid invade Urval. Bring Urval to Keter as slaves. Bring Quort to Keter as slave. Sure.”
Quort peeled back is upper lip to reveal a bunch of short, pointed teeth. Jackson wasn’t sure if the snarl was meant as an insult or an opening. He chose the latter.
“Woolzi thinks the Krakzid attacked our convoy inside Silden space,” Jackson said. “It looks like your people and our people have a common enemy.”
Quort rounded on him with a furious bellow that shook the whole bar. He snatched one of the bottles by the neck and raised it over Jackson’s head when a smattering of voices echoed down the street outside.
Jackson turned to see shadowy figures striding down the street. They looked human enough, but they wore body armor, helmets, and face masks. They walked in a company seven wide and seven deep. They covered the whole street, and orders drifted to Jackson’s ear. “Search that house! Kick the door open.”
3
“Down!” Woolzi squeaked. “Hide behind bar.”
Jackson and Roy scrambled behind the bar. Woolzi shoved them down on the floor. Quort didn’t move, except to keep unloading the bottles out of the container like he’d never laid eyes on any of them. He concentrated on his work and completely ignored everything else, even when the soldiers outside pounded on the door.
Woolzi scuttled away and left Jackson and Roy cowering for cover. Woolzi threw open the door. “Pleasant evening, sirs! Many blessings on you!”
The soldiers barged past him without answering. Whether they would come look behind the bar struck Jackson as a matter of when, not if.
He nudged Roy and pointed behind him, to the tunnel through which they’d entered this establishment. Roy nodded, and they inched farther down the bar.
The shadowy tunnel called Jackson to make a dash for freedom. He braced his legs to dive for it when a sharp squeak made him look back.
Four soldiers had gotten hold of Woolzi’s spindly arms over by the door. They hauled him toward the exit, against his best efforts to fight them off. “Come on, maggot!” one of them barked. “You’re coming with us. We’ll find out what you know. Don’t think you can keep anything from us.”
“No!” Woolzi squealed. “Woolzi don’t know nothing! Minding own business! No take!”
“Shut up!” the first soldier bellowed. “Don’t make it worse for yourself, or you’ll be looking at a prison sentence for abetting fugitives.”
“Woolzi no abetting!” Woolzi chirped. “Woolzi no helping! Woolzi no know nothing! I tell you sure!”
One soldier turned to the other. “Shut him down. This is taking too long.”
The second soldier raised a huge cannon-like weapon. He hefted it to his side and flicked something on it to power it up. Jackson started to rise when, without warning, Quort swung around from his place at the bar.
He acted so fast no one saw him coming—not even Jackson, who was facing him. One minute, Quort stood over his container with his head bowed. In one blinding movement, he spun on his heel and smashed a bottle into the nearest soldier. He shattered the glass against the unsuspecting man’s skull and the guard buckled.
The sudden attack surprised the cannon-toting soldier so much he rotated his weapon toward Quort. He fired without meaning to, and the weapon blasted into Quort’s torso. The creature reared back with a frightful bellow. He staggered and smashed into the bar. The container skidded off and smashed to the floor where Jackson and Roy had just been hiding.
The other soldiers converged on Quort in force. The gunman recovered from his fright and sidestepped in front of Quort. He pointed the weapon at Quort for another shot, but with so many of his comrades manhandling Quort and wrestling him into submission, the guy didn’t have to shoot.
Two soldiers grabbed each of Quort’s arms. When he felt them restraining him, he went insane and thrashed to free himself. His enraged bellows pounded in Jackson’s ears.
Woolzi took the opportunity to struggle away from the soldiers holding him down. He jerked loose, but they lunged for him and caught him again before he could get away.
He gave another piercing squeal, and the gunman glanced over. When he saw Woolzi resisting, the guy wheeled around, ready to blow Woolzi away, too.
Jackson couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t run out on the people who’d helped him and Roy when they needed it most. He didn’t understand the politics going on here, but he didn’t have to. The soldiers had broken in here searching for him and Roy. Now they were taking their aggressions out on these two.
He vaulted out of his hiding place. He didn’t know what to do, so he just grabbed the nearest guard, who happened to be one of Quort’s assailants.
The guy pinned one of Quort’s brawny arms against his side. One elbow held it in place while he tried to grapple a weapon from his belt. Jackson flew at him from behind just as the man drew his weapon and swiveled it to aim at Quort’s head.
Quort contorted in furious twists. His strength jerked his captors off their feet, but their combined efforts immobilized him against the bar. If that guard got his weapon into position, he would drop Quort for sure.
Jackson sprang on the hapless soldier, but he didn’t recognize the weapon in his hand. It resembled nothing he’d seen in his career. It looked like something between a pen and a carrot. The guard’s palm and fingers completely concealed it.
Jackson didn’t know how to use that weapon even if he got his hands on it, so he took the next best thing. He locked his elbow around the soldier’s neck. With his other hand, he grabbed the soldier’s wrist and yanked his arm sideways.
The weapon went off. Jackson had a fraction of a second to aim before the thing blasted the cannon-wielder between the shoulder blades. The gunman toppled on top of his weapon, and the whole squad rounded on Jackson.
The guard in his grasp started to struggle, but Jackson hadn’t come this far to give up. He rotated his captive from one side to the other. The man’s fingers squeezed off shots as he wriggled to free himself. Every time his muscles tensed, Jackson whipped him sideways and directed the blasts where he wanted them.
They thumped out of the miniature weapon, and the soldier holding Woolzi soared back to smash into the wall. Another took a shot in the legs and somersaulted before slapping to the floor.
The rest of the squad moved in for the kill, but with Woolzi free, Jackson wasn’t alone anymore. Roy rushed out of hiding and intercepted three more advancing from the left. Woolzi pounced on the body lying crumpled at his feet. He scooped up more weapons and trained them on the remaining soldiers. He shot down two closing on Jackson, and then felled one of Quort’s captors.
The enormous creature broke loose and shook the building with deafening bellows. He cracked one huge arm to the left and dropped two soldiers in one blow. Jackson’s prisoner gave one more energetic squirm, and Jackson felt his grip failing.
With the last of his strength, he wheeled the guy toward Quort. The soldier understood the situation well enough now to hold his fire. Jackson couldn’t have that, so he gave the man’s arm a cruel jerk.
He bashed the man’s forearm into the bar. The soldier kept his hold on the weapon, but the pain made him angle his gun upward. At the same moment, Quort seized his other two assailants, both of whom had their weapons out.
Quort slammed his big mitts onto his enemies. He shook them until their teeth rattled. They raised their weapons to fire, and Quort twirled them backward. Their guns went off, and the impact against Jackson’s victim knocked Jackson off his feet.
The body sagged in his arms. Quort’s captives hesitated, watching their comrade fall at their own hands, and Quort struck for the second time. He smashed the two men together with brutal power and flung their unconscious bodies to the floor at his feet.
4
Woolzi bustled over to Jackson. “You come quick! Out back door! Squadron hear shots. Come quick!”
Jackson scrambled to gather up as many weapons as he could lay his hands on. He bumped into Roy as they searched the soldiers strewn all over the floor. “You just had to go and do that, didn’t you?”
Jackson didn’t answer. He didn’t recognize many of the soldiers’ possessions as weapons, but Quort and Woolzi did. They unburdened the fallen of quite a few objects. Quort took hold of the giant cannon.
Jackson watched Quort check the weapon and measure the weight in his chiseled arms. “That suits you. You’re the only one here that’s big enough to carry it.”
Quort only bared his teeth in response. “Urval forbidden to carry weapons,” Woolzi told Jackson. “Death sentence if caught.”
“No damn way!” Roy breathed. “What kind of messed-up law is that?”
“Urval slaves. No weapons.”
Quort showed no qualms about taking the cannon for himself. He followed Woolzi to the tunnel through which Jackson and Roy had entered the courtyard. Jackson didn’t see Quort fitting into that tight hole.
Woolzi crouched down to get into it. Jackson and Roy knelt on the ground to copy him. Quort, on the other hand, flexed his knees and sprang over the wall in one bound. The others found him waiting for them when they emerged on the street.
Crashes, shots, and shouted orders floated from not far away. Woolzi pranced to a different intersection. “Squadron attacking bar. We get away.”
Jackson didn’t argue. “Where are we going?”
“Underground. Silden Urval hiding place.”
Jackson didn’t understand half of what this creature was telling him, but he was too relieved to hear the words ‘hiding place’ to protest. Woolzi tiptoed to the nearest corner, hid behind a building, and peeked around it to check that the coast was clear.
Jackson looked back. None of the soldiers followed them. Woolzi dashed into the open with Jackson and Roy on his tail. Quort brought up the rear, rotating his cannon in all directions. He kept pivoting backward to cover their retreat.
The gunshots and explosions faded as the party moved farther away from Woolzi’s bar, but Jackson didn’t slacken his vigilance. He drew level with Woolzi. “I’m sorry you lost your bar, but I didn’t like to see those soldiers punish you for helping us.”
“Not lost,” Woolzi twittered. “Go back in morning. Reopen—sure.”
“Are you sure? Why did they want to arrest you, anyway? They had no reason to think we ran into your place instead of another.”
“Always arrest. Arrest Woolzi many times. No problem. Woolzi can handle.”
Jackson spun around. “Really? Why? Don’t tell me you’re doing anything illegal in that bar of yours.”
Woolzi gave his chirping laugh. “Woolzi no tell that. Woolzi business keep to Woolzi.”
“So why do they arrest you? I can’t believe you’re careless enough to let the Keter Legion find out what you’re up to.”
“Keter Legion no like Silden.”
“Why not? I know the Silden are troublemakers, but—”
Woolzi laughed even louder. “Troublemakers! Captain flatter Woolzi.”
Jackson had to laugh along with him. “Come on. Tell the truth. Why doesn’t the Legion like Silden? Is it because your drinks are too expensive?”
“Keter Legion no like Silden. Keter Legion no like Urval. Keter Legion no like anyone.”
Jackson frowned to himself. This Keter Legion didn’t sound like anybody he wanted to get cozy with. “So where’s this hiding place of yours?”
“Underground.”
“You said that. Can you be a little more specific? Underground could be a lot of places.”
Just then, another stutter of gunfire cut off their conversation. It came from directly in front of them. Booms and blasts quaked the pavement.
The group dashed to the nearest building and hid behind it. This time, Jackson checked the terrain, along with Roy and Woolzi.
Another squadron of the Keter Legion assembled in the street. Soldiers swarmed into one building after another. They stuck their heads through upstairs windows and called down to men on the ground—at least, they looked like men to Jackson. He couldn’t be certain with all their heads covered.
&n
bsp; Armored vehicles lined the street. Tracks of small wheels kept the vehicles close to the ground. Slit windows gave the only visibility from inside. Thick plate steel covered every other inch of the contraptions.
The soldiers fired from behind these vehicles, using the handheld weapons they’d used at the bar. They also used other disc-shaped weapons that nestled in the palm of the hand. All these weapons erupted thumps of concussive power that exploded walls and tore up sections of pavement.
As soon as they searched one structure and reconvened outside, they turned their guns on the building they’d just searched. The vehicles and the soldiers lined up and pounded the buildings to smithereens. They kept up a steady barrage until they brought each building down, one after another.
“What are they doing?” Roy asked.
“Legion attack,” Woolzi squeaked.
“Who are they attacking?” Jackson asked. “We were nowhere near this area. They can’t be leveling the neighborhood looking for us.”
“Attacking Underground.”
Jackson’s ears pricked up. Underground. All this time that Woolzi kept mentioning ‘underground’, Jackson thought he was talking about a place. Underground must be some kind of resistance movement. If the Keter Legion routinely went around attacking any old random group with little or no provocation, Jackson could well believe it.
Woolzi had been taking Jackson and Roy to this Underground. No doubt Quort would want to go there, too, now that he was sporting such a big gun he wasn’t supposed to touch.
The Keter Legion would treat the people who’d attacked their squad in Woolzi’s bar as enemies. They would go to great lengths to hunt them down, especially since two of the attackers were already wanted for making an unauthorized landing on this planet.
So why was Woolzi so confident about reopening his bar tomorrow morning? That was just like the Silden. They recognized no law but their own fun-loving mischief.
Another ground-shaking boom woke Jackson from his thoughts. The soldiers migrated closer to their hiding place, but this time, they didn’t enter the next building in the row. They marched toward the very corner where the group watched in breathless anticipation.