WARP world (47 page)

“What is your place in so—”

“Ama,” he interrupted, the angles of his face sharpened by sun and shadows. He stopped in place; Ama walked a few paces forward then stopped when she realized Seg was no longer beside her.

She turned to face him, he lowered his pack and stared at the ground.

“Is it your shoulder?” she asked, reaching out a hand.

“No, no,” he waved her off, but then said nothing more.

A flock of birds took flight nearby, shaking the trees.

It wasn’t like Seg to hesitate, he was a man who knew his mind and spoke it. Ama waited for him with growing unease. Just as she opened her mouth to ask what the trouble was, he broke the silence.

“I need to speak to you about a…about a personal matter. What I am about to suggest is unortho, at best, even for me.”

As she faced him, a glint in the trees above and behind Seg caught her eyes.

“Ama, I want—”

She leapt forward, covered his mouth with her hand and pulled him to the ground. As they ducked, a banger shot whizzed by, cracking open the quiet of the forest. A widgewood tree splintered as the musket ball found purchase.

Ama raised her head; now she saw a flash of blue and an unmistakable figure charging toward them.

“Dagga,” she hissed, eyes locked on Seg’s.

“Nowhere to hide, water rats,” Dagga called out, his voice echoing through the forest.

Whether Dagga’s words were true or not, surrender meant death. “Run!” She whispered to Seg. “Run!”

She dropped her own pack, grabbed Seg’s, and took off through the trees at a sprint.

“Take them!” Dagga shouted, just ahead of a hail of banger fire.

The slope of the hill helped their descent but took away any control they had over their path. Ama’s foot hit a section of loose rock and she slid into a tree. The impact threw her off balance, but Seg was right behind her. With his free hand, he helped haul her up as he passed and they continued to hurtle blindly to the valley below.

Dagga and his men were closing the distance, boots crashing louder and closer. Ahead of them, the forest that offered their only protection from the banger shots was beginning to thin.

A branch lashed Seg across the face, opening a cut on his cheek. Ama leapt over rocks and roots, ducked beneath low hanging branches. With only one arm for balance, Seg did his best to keep pace.

A musket ball passed by Ama’s head close enough to lift her hair. She jigged left and bounced off an unyielding bonewood tree. In seconds they would be exposed. She looked down on the approaching valley, a wide grassy pasture punctuated with a few rows of crops, a small barn and some grazing greshers. And nothing else.

“Where are your people?” Ama shouted, frantic, as they burst out of the cover.

“I don’t kn—”

Ama turned to see Seg’s leg buckle, a streak of red marking the graze of a musket ball across his thigh. She reached out a hand but he launched forward, hit the ground, flipped over and kept rolling. His path was clear of trees but too steep to stop his momentum; he bounced and tumbled down the slope.

Ama sprinted to catch him, heedless of the weapons fire that sliced through the air around her.

Hooking her arm under his, she pulled him to his feet. “Keep…moving,” she panted.

They would have to cross the open valley and hope to find some shelter on the opposite side, where there was more tree cover. At least the ground was flat now. If she could find water, get them to a river, they might have a chance.

“Ama!” Seg yelled.

Ahead of them, more constables were pouring out of the woods on horseback, closing in a circle. They were right in the middle. Trapped.

Ama’s head whipped left and right.

“There!” she pointed to the small barn. It wouldn’t protect them for long but it was the only cover they could hope to reach.

She turned to run, her foot dropped into a deep rut left by a gresher and she fell forward onto her face. Seg’s pack flew from her hand, as the air was driven from her lungs.

She raised her head. Seg was at her side but it was too late, the constables were closing the net around them.

“Get down!” Seg said. He dropped to his knees, grabbed his pack, dug in for his pistol, then wrapped himself on top of Ama. Even as he clutched the weapon, he understood it was a futile gesture against so many. He could only hope to shield her now.

Then, from above, there was a shrill hiss of air followed by a ball of fire. A small explosion rocked the ground, sending a shockwave through Seg and Ama as they huddled together. The fireball hit a cluster of constables. Men screamed as they were engulfed in flame. Others backed away or stopped in their tracks as heat and smoke filled the air.

Seg raised his head. Through one of the shutters in the loft of the barn, the barrel of a weapon was just visible. He heard a sharp
pop
, another hiss, then a scream and knew that a huchack rifle shot had found home.

“Kerbin,” he said.

“What?” Ama gasped.

“Inside!” He pulled Ama up, then snagged the straps of his pack and tossed it over his shoulder.

Dodging gresher ruts, they ran to the barn, which had now come alive with superheated bursts of heavy needler fire and the deadly spines of huchack rifles.

As Seg charged through the open entryway, he heard the heavy needler fire again. He surged through the stalls and directly into the butt of a weapon that cracked him on the jaw. His feet flew out from under him and he landed on his back with a loud THUD, only to stare down the barrel of a huchack carbine wielded by Kerbin. Her eyes were hidden behind her visor, but he could see her teeth as her mouth skinned back in a grimace.

“SEG!” Ama ran to his side, sliding to a stop as one of Seg’s people pointed a weapon at her chest.

Kerbin glanced sideways at Ama, then back to Seg. “So it is you. Couldn’t quite tell, the way you’re done up.”

She pressed her boot down on his chest as she listened for the reports from her comm. From the tiny twitches at the corners of her mouth, Seg saw that Kerbin had known it was him all along.

Outside, the weapons fire continued but it was obvious the constables were being steadily eliminated.

“Okay, keep watch for more of ’em, we’ll get the warp gate set up. We got our Theorist, I’ll make sure we’re taking him back with us,” Kerbin said into the comm. She nodded at the pistol Seg’s fingers were seeking, “Wouldn’t do that if I was you.” She pulled her boot off him and stepped away. “It’s beyond karged out there. If Haffset’s got half a brain, they’ll pull an abort on this whole karg-up raid and ship you to the basement.”

“What are you talking about?” Seg said as he rolled to his knees, then rose up. His jaw ached and his entire body felt as though it had been hammered.

“We’ve had locals on us for days now. First some bunch of raggedies. De-pop’d all but one of ’em. Kept him alive long enough to pry the intel out. Said some local named Brin sent ’em. Then the wardens, or whatever they’re called around here, started sniffing around. Been dogging us ever since. Thing I want to know is, how in the name of the Storm did anybody know we were here?”

Seg shook his head, careful to avoid looking at Ama. “I have no idea, Kerbin. Were you indiscreet?”

She glared at him. “My ass. We ghosted this whole mission. No slips!”

Behind them, other members of the squad were assembling the warp gate. Both Seg and Kerbin ignored the feverish work, focusing on each other.

“None?” Seg demanded, his eyes narrowing. “You’re lying.”

“Hey, we didn’t have time to bag the bodies of the first group of Outers, but that was after they knew we were here,” she said, bracing up toward him.

“So you made the one mistake, you likely made others. Obviously so.”

“Karg you. We got your job done, even with the hassles. We weren’t wasting our time collecting pets.”

“I’m no one’s pet,” Ama said, still held in place by the banger. “And I’m helping Seg, so tell your man not to shoot me.”

“Pets that think they can talk back to People.” The lines around Kerbin’s mouth deepened, then she moved closer and squinted at Ama’s dathe. She nodded to the trooper whose rifle was aimed at Ama, “Go ahead. Shoot the freak.”

“No!” Seg yelled to the trooper then whipped his head around to face Kerbin. “Do it and I’ll have you…” he stabbed his finger at the trooper, “and you,” he looked around to the rest of squad who were visible, “all of you, I’ll have you all broken and reduced and grafted.”

Kerbin’s answer was to raise her rifle.

Seg raised his pistol as well. “Go back without me and you’re already karged,” he told her. “This is shaping for the biggest raid in history, and the Guild will not forgive my loss.”

They glared at each other over the sights of their weapons.

“I’m taking this up-chain when we get back,” Kerbin said, tone thick with menace. She lowered her rifle. “We’ll see who gets grafted over this.”

“Do what you’re told and you’ll be rich.We’re almost there. Don’t ruin it now.”

“More coming!” came the call from over their heads. “Twenty hostiles, maybe more.”

Kerbin turned toward the assembled warp gate and glanced at her wrist. “We’re in warp window. Get that gate opened and let’s get out of here. Storm take these Outers.” Then she looked back at Seg, “We’re not done with this yet.”

Seg moved to Ama’s side and pulled her away from the troopers. “You have to come with me,” he whispered

“My father…”

“Ama,” Seg lowered his voice but spoke more forcefully, “this isn’t the time to be stubborn.”

“Your people want to kill me,” she hissed back, with a darting glance to Kerbin.

“The people outside want to kill you too. And they will if you stay here. At least I can protect you from these ones” he said, nodding to the troopers. He pocketed his pistol and grasped her elbow. “Come on!”

“Promise you’ll get me back here. Promise.” Her fingers latched onto Seg’s arm, silently pleading as they twisted the fabric of his shirt.

“I swear it.”

“I don’t trust her,” Ama whispered, her eyes flashing at Kerbin.

“You have excellent instincts,” he whispered, as he ushered her toward the gate.

Kerbin grabbed the back of his shirt and shoved him toward the shimmering circle. He tripped and plunged in, pulling Ama with him. Ama looked back at her world one last time as she fell. Her last sight was Kerbin’s eyes, staring at her as if she were looking at an animal being led to slaughter.

A
s she fell through the warp gate, Ama took a deep breath and held it. Foolish but instinctual. Inside the warp, it was as if she were being stretched taut, her insides twisted, and there were voices, thousands, scratching against her eardrums like fingernails on the hull of the
Naida
. Then it was over and she felt ill. All she wanted was to lie down until her head and stomach settled but this notion was doomed.

Lights. Noise. Hands. Everything was too bright; it stung her eyes. Her second eyelids flipped up but did little good. Beasts, bigger than men, grabbed her and she screamed in spite of herself.

She held tight to Seg’s hand but the beasts pulled them apart.

“Fear no,” Seg called out to her, in the broken Kenda he had learned, then he spoke in his own tongue to his people.

Their language was discordant, broken glass noise. Ama covered her ears with her hands but the beasts yanked them away and talked more loudly at her.

They’re only men, in strange clothes,
she told herself but they terrified her, especially when they started pulling off her clothes. Again she fought, again they ignored her, overwhelmed her. “Seg!” she called, but he was busy talking back to the suit-men, in their broken glass language. Soon she stood naked, uselessly struggling to cover herself.

Then they reached for the shell bracelet on her wrist and she screamed. “NO! That was my mother’s!” She might as well have not existed; they did what they wanted, took what they wanted.

One of the suit-men motioned to her to spread her arms and legs but she shook her head and refused. Another suit-man joined him and they forced her into position, while a third raised a hose and sprayed her with a foul-smelling liquid that stung the many scratches covering her arms and face. While she coughed, they turned her to face the other way and sprayed her back side. Next she felt the scratch of brushes against her skin. The suit-men scrubbed everywhere, even the delicate spot between her legs but she couldn’t scream for the coughing.

The foul smelling liquid was in her dathe and it choked her.

When they rotated her back to face the suit-men with the brushes, the process was repeated. No part of her body was neglected.

They kept talking at her, even though she couldn’t understand a word. Then they pushed her forward until she was standing over a drain. A blast of liquid hit her and nearly flayed the skin from her bones. As she squeezed her eyes shut, she prayed to Nen to make it stop.

More hands, this time they pulled at her, then pointed some kind of device at her midsection as they chattered to each other. At least they seemed to be ignoring her for a minute; she crouched forward, covering her body with her arms and hands.