The Fifth Civilization: A Novel (21 page)

An exceptionally short and diffident Bauxen led the three
aliens through the security checkpoint, an archway that blinked and beeped when
they passed through. The archway was supposed to detect the energy signatures
of weapons and sound an alarm when it found them, but in this case the calls
went unheeded by the guards on duty. All were busy watching a telenovel broadcast.
The short Bauxen was the warden on duty, and in the guards’ opinion, if he had
authorized something then it must be legitimate—or, if not, there was
ample incentive for the Bauxens guards to look the other way.

They’d have been more surprised to see Kotarans come through
if one hadn’t arrived at the holding cell the day before.

The warden swiped his key card on the side of a heavy door
and it responded with clangs of unlocking. Then the door slid open
laboriously—it had not been oiled in a long time. Though short for the
Kotarans, they squeezed through the threshold just fine. At the other end was a
desk, with a guard on duty watching a holorecording of an eating contest that
had gained planetary renown (the champion had eaten his own fingers and not
realized it). When the warden arrived, the guard switched it off and stood at
attention.

Grinek knew enough Bauxen to understand that the warden had
caught the guard by surprise, and the officer wanted to know what these
Kotarans were doing here. The warden explained that the prisoner was going to
be released, and the guard sputtered a bit, but not before letting out his hand
and showing the warden the way to the cell. The warden turned to Grinek, smiled
and held out his fleshy hands, and slowly walked down the hall.

Three cells sat in the darkened hallway. They were temporary
facilities meant to hold prisoners before they were taken to the spaceport and
then to their final holding destinations, whether on-planet or on another
world. Through their transparent doors, Grinek could see that two of them, the
ones on opposite sides of the hallway, held Bauxens that appeared to be asleep
or moaning in drunkenness. At the end of the corridor was a third cell, which
contained the man they sought. The warden slid his keycard in a panel on the
wall and pressed a button, and the transparent door of the third cell opened.
Sitting on his bench, facing the door and staring at those who’d come for him,
was Specialist Roh.

Grinek lifted his palm in the typical salute. “You are free,
my friend.”

Roh stood and walked out of the cell. He paused, glanced
around the jail, and grimaced in satisfaction. Then he, too, raised his palm in
a salute. “Commander Grinek,” Roh said, “It is an honor to see you again.”

“Specialist Roh, have you been treated well?”
 
Grinek saw that the prisoner stared
intensely at the warden. “Don’t worry, he barely speaks Kotaran.”

Roh snarled. “Not by the Earthmen, commander, nor by these
slimy ingrates. They barely fed me.”
 
Grinek looked over the prisoner, and was shocked to see that he was
right: his muscle and body weight had degenerated over the course of the month.
His ears dropped, and his tail was noticeably shorter and wrinkled. Roh was no
longer the fearsome man he once was. Surely the Earthmen had tortured him by
denying the nourishment he required.

“We will deal with that, Specialist. Soon enough we will
enact our revenge against them.”

“They are still on this planet, Commander?”

“Oh yes, and you are welcome to help in capturing them.”

Roh laughed. “Yes, Commander. By the grave of Fox’Lo I
will.”

Grinek knew that Roh was a
ghin
and resigned himself to the man’s ignorance. But he was a
grunt, and it didn’t matter what his beliefs were—in fact, perhaps being religious
improved his ability to be a soldier. Passion and aggression had to come from
somewhere, and if Roh was fearsome because of his religious fervor, than he was
far superior to the weak rage of the Council and of Vorjos.

Grinek motioned for his two flanking bodyguards to turn and
they promptly did so, heading back to the exit. Roh stepped forward and passed
Grinek, following the two bodyguards out to where their shuttle was waiting. As
he left, Grinek wagged his ears at the warden, who smiled and muttered a
badly-mangled thank you in Kotaran. Grinek then simply walked outside, past the
Bauxens who paid the four towering aliens terrified grimaces.

There was no way to free Roh without resorting to bribery,
something Grinek didn’t want to do but what Vorjos commanded. Grinek had personally
gone to the embassy in the capital to plead for an operation against the
prison, but they too recommended bribery. Any violent incident against the
authorities could collapse a Kotaran-Bauxen agreement on the supplying of
lithium generators. So all it then took was a visit to Bauxen Chief Yohvin’s
associates in Erwo Seg, who agreed to contact the people holding Roh and offer
his release. They were political enemies of those who controlled the prison
system and were happy to cause them some inconvenience. Of course, it took all
matter of exorbitant bribes to free them—bribes to the associates, bribes
to the bureaucrat in charge of the prison, and bribes to the warden who would
have to say that his Kotaran prisoner got “lost” in transit. Hundreds of millions
of terts were wasted, billed to the embassy, and Grinek knew he would
eventually take the blame for all of that. Bribery was always much simpler on
Kotara.

But it didn’t matter. They would soon enough find it was all
worth it.

Roh, the bodyguards, and Grinek piled into the shuttle. It
blasted off from the prison pad and headed out over the ocean. They were headed
to collect a Bauxen ship that Chief Yohvin’s friends in Erwo Seg had provided
the Kotarans with, free of charge. Since the
Hanyek
was forbidden by treaty from operating in Bauxa’s
atmosphere, this ship would have to do for a raid on the Earthmen.

 
It took yet
another bribe to learn that the Colobus and the Earthmen had landed in the Port
of Siy and were in the care of a royal, Prince Duvurn Dedro.

Duvurn was a royal non-entity with a minor fortune and a
tenuous claim to be the heir of a local fiefdom. Unfortunately for him, two
other princes claimed themselves as heir. Grinek reasoned that if this prince
were done away with the carnage could be blamed on any number of his enemies.
So he proposed a strike team that he himself would lead. Vorjos disapproved,
but what else was new? The embassy had told both Grinek and Vorjos that anyone
who kidnapped a Kotaran officer must either be captured or disposed of.
Grinek’s explanation that the culprits were on Bauxa had convinced the embassy
that direct action was needed. And as the local diplomats, they overruled the
protests of Vorjos.

And thus, a strike team was assembled.

After a few minutes of flying into a vast horizon of
seawater—which bored Grinek to no end—they arrived on the continent
of Yi Ree Rey. There were much more interesting landscapes here, including
coastal villages and miles of factories, all to fuel the interstellar trade of
the Bauxens. Grinek imagined how all these factories could serve to build a
greater Kotara when they were inevitably brought under Kotaran control. He
reflected on this until they reached the designated point, a reservoir on the
outskirts of the Port of Siy.

The port smelled awful, and Grinek reasoned it was because
of all the animal rendering plants nearby. He ached to again sit in peace in
the jungles of Degmorra, where the smell of the damp soil and the wind in the
trees calmed him. But for now, duty called. Salutes greeted Grinek as he
marched to the garbage scow, an elongated Bauxen ship with a rectangular
midsection and triangular compartments on the sides. Grinek scowled as he
remembered the type of vessel from his own time on Bauxa. Their operational
ship, it seemed, would be a garbage scow.

As if things could not get any worse, Captain Sisal was
already there at the edge of the reservoir, his fist raised in salute.

“Commander. I congratulate you on finding the prisoner.”

Grinek did not return it. “Of course we found him! He was
right where we knew he was.”
 
Roh
stepped up alongside Grinek, and the breeze from the reservoir flapped the
man’s ears. To Grinek, Roh seemed to be savoring his newfound freedom.

“Commander,” Sisal continued, “Observer Vorjos again requests
that we return to the ship and remain content to follow the Earthmen to their
destination. He says it will save us much trouble.”

“Will it, Sisal? And what if we lose them? You are sounding
very close to contradicting what the embassy has instructed: that we are to
confront the people who kidnapped Specialist Roh. Do you not see Roh standing
right in front of you—and you dare to tell him we should not avenge his
captivity?”

“Commander,” Sisal said, taking a step back but keeping his
hands firmly behind his back. “I’m afraid we can’t do this. I must follow the
orders of my superior—and Vorjos is my superior, Commander. You are the
voice of Grinek, and Vorjos is the voice of the government. That might as well
be the voice of a god.”

Grinek bared his teeth. “You forget, Sisal, that I am a god.
When I decide a man must die, he dies.”

The rest of the crew, standing outside the scow at
attention, watched with interest. Grinek surveyed them, and they showed no sign
of going along with Sisal. At the same time, Grinek knew their sympathies were
subject to whoever was giving the orders. If Grinek let this stand, his
authority would be compromised. It was actually amusing, really, that Grinek
could use this opportunity to do what for so long he’d fantasized about.

“Specialist Roh,” Grinek said to the alien standing next to
him, who seemed revitalized by the outside air. Roh straightened his back. “If
I gave you an order, would you carry it out unquestioningly, without haste?”

“Yes, Commander, of course.”

“Good. In lieu of his blatant insubordination, I order you
to kill Captain Sisal immediately. Use your bare hands if you still have the
strength.”
 
There wasn’t even a
moment’s pause, as if Roh had anticipated the order. Grinek had just enough
time to turn his head see Sisal’s expression, which was one of absolute fright
as he reached for his holster. He was foolish not to have a weapon at the
ready. Roh pounced on him, tumbling to ground and pinning the captain’s arms
under his knees. Sisal cried out, but Roh silenced him by grabbing his snout.
Then he twisted the captain’s head to the right, and then left, and then the
right again until a snap was audible even over the breeze of the reservoir.

Roh stood, and Sisal’s eyes were still moving, searching
around, but this might have been involuntary. There was a long sigh from his
mouth as the last gasp of air escaped, and then the captain lay there,
motionless.

“Excellent,” Grinek said. “I see your strength has not
completely disappeared. Thank you, Roh.”
 
Roh bared his teeth and stepped away from the body. All of the crewmen
were now focused on the body of their former captain, some wide-eyed in terror,
but all silent.

“Are there any other inquiries about the Observer? No? Good,
then we can continue with this strike. If the coordinates are all uploaded to
this Bauxen piece of shit, then by all means let’s get underway. We are to
maintain strict radio silence. No one is to contact the
Hanyek
.”
 
Grinek looked
down at the body of Sisal, and had a brief moment of regret that he didn’t kill
the captain himself. Ah, it was always more enjoyable to watch such things,
anyway.

“You and you,” Grinek commanded, pointing to two men. “Dump
Sisal’s body in the reservoir. The Bauxens will be drinking him in no
time.”
 
The two frightened crewmen
immediately ran to the body and hoisted it up, carrying it down to the water’s
edge. “You are ordered not to bring up what happened to Sisal unless asked,” he
shouted to the crew. “Let his disappearance speak for itself!”
 
Amid acknowledgements from those
assembled, Grinek took Roh by the shoulder and led him to the scow. They were
going to have a nice chat about strategy.

“You told him
what
?”
Kel screamed.

“I didn’t think I had a choice!”
 
Roan tried his best to keep his voice
down, lest any Bauxen in the foyer below hear them arguing. He’d found Kel in
the same plush bedroom where she’d fallen asleep the day before, exhausted from
a month of space travel. She was just waking up, and when Roan entered she
clutched the covers close to her naked chest. It was not the kind of situation
where you told someone bad news, such as the compromising of your quest.

“What was Duvurn going to do to you? Kill you? I don’t think
he can afford to kill foreigners right now. And he doesn’t just turn people
over to the Kotarans. That was all an idle threat to get you to talk.”

“Kel, I don’t respond well to threats. Sometimes I give
in.”
 
Roan walked a little closer,
and Kel pushed the covers closer to her body. At any moment she looked as
though she might start kicking and send him reeling out the door. “Look, let’s
just go to breakfast, and we can talk about it with Duvurn then. He offered us
some men, Kel. Don’t you think we might need a bit of a crew before we trade
one godforsaken rock for another?”

Kel clenched her teeth. “I was going to ask Duvurn for some
manpower, but I didn’t want to tell him the whole story. Now we have no
choice.”
 
She gently let the covers
fall a little, so that her clavicles were showing. But that was all. The
tension was slowly evaporating from her. “Breakfast is going to be real fun, I
can guarantee. Now if I can just get dressed, Roan, that would be stellar.”

“Kel, I’ve seen you—”

“Please, Roan. Before I throw a lamp at you.”
 
That was not an idle threat, if a little
extreme. He left Kel alone a lot on this trip. Or at least, he was asked to
leave her alone. Confronting her now wasn’t going to do any good. So he threw
his hands up and ducked out into the hallway.

While bouncing down the staircase to the ground floor, Roan
noticed David wandered in from the outside. He’d lost sight of the Nyden the
previous night and wondered where he’d slept, if anywhere. David titled his
head up as Roan approached him, then deeply nodded in greeting.

“What’s outside that’s so interesting, David?” Roan asked,
stepping onto the foyer floor.

“Good morning, Mr. Roan. I was just walking through the
Garden of Life. You should really do that yourself, in fact. It is quite
enthralling. I never realized the level of dedication some Bauxens have to the
natural world.”

“That’s great, David. Listen, you haven’t seen Duvurn, have
you?”

David nodded. “In fact, I was just speaking with him in the
garden.”

“Were you?”
 
Roan
listened closely and could hear the tap of the Prince’s cane on the gravel path
outside the front entrance. Duvurn was, indeed, not far behind. “Did he ask you
about where we’re going? Aaron’s planet, I mean.”

“Yes, Mr. Roan. In fact, I’m afraid the Prince knows our
purpose in coming to Bauxa.”

So Duvurn had told David, too. At least the Nyden didn’t
seem too angry.

“Actually, Mr. Roan, I am quite glad he knows. He is willing
to sponsor this last leg of the voyage. He will provide us with more crewmen to
aid in the operation of the
Colobus
.
Prince Duvurn is a most generous Bauxen.”

“Indeed I am!” The voice came from the steps, which Duvurn
was now climbing to the palace doors. He was followed by the same bodyguard
present during his night visit with Roan. “Generosity is something we royals
are good at. Perhaps it is because we have so much money that we feel good
spreading it around for a change.”
 
The Prince stopped in front of the two offworlders, scratching his side
as he approached. “Ah, that feels much better, doesn’t it David? Nothing like
talking business during a morning walk. Makes me look forward to breakfast.”

David nodded, while Roan looked back and forth between the
two men. They sure as hell acted like old friends, but Roan wasn’t sure that’s
what they considered each other.

“Nicholas Roan, since you are all dressed and well-rested,
perhaps you can join me for breakfast? David has expressed an interest in
trying our cream-of-swamp soup. You’ll love it! And we can continue to talk
business.”

“Um…I’d be honored.”

“Good!” Duvurn let out a wave to someone behind Roan. “Ah,
there’s your former lover now!” Roan turned to see Kel coming down the
staircase, dressed in navy blue coveralls and wearing a cap with the Colobus
name emblazoned on its front. She looked quizzically at the strange collection
of men assembled at her feet.

“I’m sorry,” David whispered, “I told him you and the
captain were once intimate.”

“I figured.”

Kel folded her arms as she arrived on the main floor. “Were
you all waiting for me?”

“No, but it’s fortunate you came,” Duvurn said. “We are
going to have breakfast and then discuss business. Somehow I think you all will
want to leave here as soon as possible. Come, please!”

“Well then,” Kel said, “Looks like we have no choice but to
eat.”

Duvurn smiled and motioned to the door to the fining hall.
Something very good was on the other side, judging by the smell wafting
through. Roan’s stomach growled in anticipation. Anything would be better than
duc.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” Kel asked. “Can’t you wake
them?”

“I could get my ‘bots on it,” Duvurn said. “But your crew
has been through one hell of an ordeal. Why not let them sleep? My servants
will bring up some elzen for them to have later.”

They were almost to the dining hall doors. David had ambled alongside
Duvurn. “Tell me, are baked kidneys still part of the traditional Bauxen first
meal?”

“Oh yes,” Duvurn said. “That and more, in fact. My chef has
some surprises for us.”

Roan thought that sounded utterly—

A tremulous roar and then the whole palace shook. Kel and
David instinctively threw their hands to their ears at the intense noise. Roan
thought something had exploded, but the noise was still present, just growing
softer. He put together what it was quickly: a sonic boom, or at least
something flying at very near the speed of sound and passing right over the
palace. In a few seconds, the roar returned. Grew louder.

“Dammit!” Duvurn shouted. “They rerouted traffic over my
palace again! I told them, I don’t want any of the blasted ships ruining my quiet!”

“That’s not traffic!” Roan screamed. The palace shook again,
and the lights flickered. Splintering appeared on the glass pillars containing
the fish, who were swimming frantically in circles, startled by the tremendous
noise. Roan ran to the front entrance to see if he could see the culprit, and
saw the backside of a slanted vessel as it turned to make another pass. It was
Bauxen. The ship was descending rapidly now, appearing to aim for the courtyard
in front of the palace, amid the fountains and the hedges. Dust and debris from
its updraft blew through the front doors.

“Get your security men!” Roan yelled, turning back to Duvurn
and the Colobus crew. “Get them out there now! And we need to hide!”

“What is this?” Duvurn shouted, his cane flailing in the air
in indignation.

“Oh my God,” Kel said, now watching out the doorway. “They
found us.”

“Yes, they did.”
 
Roan spread out his arms and herded everyone in the direction of the
double doors of the dining room. “Now, now!” He prayed the Bauxen prince and
his bodyguard would show at least some effort in the use of their legs. Roan
banged the doors open and they rushed in on the servants still setting down
silverware for the breakfast arrayed on the table.

“Go, go!” Roan shouted to them, pointing to the kitchen and
as far from the entrance doors as possible. “Kotarans are on the way!”
 

At this, the Bauxen servants—more lithe than their
master—bolted ahead of the group and sprinted into the kitchen without
looking back. Roan, however, risked a look through the front doors to the front
lawn. The ship roared as it passed overhead, and Roan could see what it had
left behind: in the distance, making their way to the palace, were the
unmistakable shapes of several Kotaran soldiers. The sharp zap of laser fire could
be heard as Roan ducked into the kitchen and, supposedly, safety.

***

At the command of
makte
,
makte
,
makte!
a horde of Kotaran commandos leapt from the open doors of
the garbage scow and onto the plush grounds of the front lawn. There was
nothing standing in their way but fountains and hedges. When the scow returned
to the sky to make another pass over the palace, Grinek noticed Bauxens running
back to safety inside the building. It was almost enough to make him laugh.

“We’re going to squeeze them in a vice!” Grinek shouted, to
no one in particular. The plan was to move in on Duvurn’s compound through both
the front and back entrances so there was no hope for escape. Out the cockpit
windows, he saw the backside of the palace and pointed past the pilot. “Set us
down near that garden! Once we’ve all departed, keep circling the palace and
make sure no one gets away.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Specialist Roh was leaning out of the craft’s open door,
letting the wind blow his ears and watching the scene unfold meters below him.
He eagerly cradled his scythe and his left leg tapped rapidly on the
floor—a sign of anxiety to enter the fray. Grinek did his best to work
his way from the cockpit to the departure bay where Roh stood.

“I am joining you, Specialist. You and I will enter this
battle together.”

“Yes, Commander. Fox’Lo wills it.”

“Of course he does. He has blessed you mightily, Roh.”
 
Grinek despised using
ghin
speak, but if gave the man an
inflated sense of his own abilities, all the better. It would make him more
tenacious, less likely to make a mistake in the heat of battle.

“If you find any Earthmen or the Nyden, try to take them
alive,” Grinek told the soldiers assembling near the edge of the scow for
insertion. “Any Bauxens you may kill.”

The scow set down in the garden. Plants and flowers were
cast to the wind from the exhaust, and what was once a rainbow of colors turned
a dull brown. A fountain collapsed from the force of the exhaust, and water
gushed on the soil, turning the ground to mud. Such were the conditions,
however, that made great warriors—and each Kotaran that jumped off the
ship relished the splash on his boots. Grinek and Roh were the last to jump
off, running through the overturned greens toward the steps of the palace.

The Bauxens let off one or two laser bolts, but these were
answered by a shower of fire from the Kotarans. Some of the green idiots wanted
to stay and fight. Grinek raised his rifle and raked the windows of the
building, hoping that would scatter people inside. The air was now lousy with
energy bursts and falling masonry from the palace. Ahead, the forward team was
already climbing the steps and mowing down any Bauxen they saw. Diplomatic
relations be damned, Grinek was sure he was going to get laurels for this
action.

***

Dead ends seemed to pop up everywhere. A freezer and a cooler
were on the right, beyond the pots and trays and baskets of the kitchen. They
weren’t the places you wanted to be when a Kotarans were chasing you. Kel
directed them back around, and they went left, hoping to find an exit from the
kitchen, perhaps to a secret passage. All that met them was a grime-coated sink
where vegetables were soaking.

“Isn’t there some secret way out of here?” Duvurn cried, in
English, to the lead servant, obviously unfamiliar with the place that prepared
all his meals.

“No! I thought all we wanted to do was hide!”
 
The servant was jerking his head around
in a panic, looking for anywhere to conceal the group from the inevitable
carnage. David, too, appeared to be a panic, his motions jumpy and his feathers
swishing about. His head was glowing green.

Weapons weren’t going to save them: Roan had kept a Kotaran
pistol tucked in his jacket, but other than that, only one of Duvurn’s
bodyguards wielded a bulky energy rifle. None of these were going to stand up
for long against military-grade Kotaran weaponry.

Kel and Roan had the idea simultaneously, and in other
circumstances they might have assumed that great minds and kindred spirits
think alike. Each grabbed a tray from a shelf reserved for pastries or other
oven foods and handed them out. Their process was factory-assembly quick, and
soon everyone was wielding a tray, horizontally or vertically, whichever way
they fancied.

“Shields,” Roan said, the only explanation needed. He then
retraced his steps through the kitchen, leaving the others to frantically
follow him in the hopes that he knew what he was doing.

“You can’t expect us to use these!” Duvurn screamed. He
grabbed a tray, which he struggled to hold in his stubby hands. It was almost
as tall as he was.

“Then grab a steak knife,” Roan suggested, now entering the
dining room. “Kotaran bolts don’t go so well against steel. At least, that’s
what I’ve heard. Look, they’re better than nothing, which is what we
have.”
 
Enough talk. Either the
Kotarans were inside or they soon would be, and there was no sense dying in a
room of pots and pans.

***

Grinek and his men burst into the rotunda. There was much to
admire in the palace, including the amphibians in the columns that reminded him
of the life in the rivers of Degmorra. His reverie shattered when Roh blasted
his rifle toward the other end of the rotunda. Before taking cover behind a
column, Grinek noticed a group of Earthmen and Bauxens exiting some lavish
doors, holding up shields. How had they managed to obtain such weapons? The
attackers opened up with return fire and then Grinek heard the sounds of feet
heading up the staircase. Grinek leapt out from his cover and charged toward
the exact center of the room.