Endurance (10 page)

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” he said in a very weird, gentle voice.

“Too late. It is.”

“OverMaster HalaVar.” A harsh voice came over the console.

Reever stepped around me and touched the console. “Yes, OverLord?”

“Report to the Command Center. Bring SsurreVa with you.”

“At once, OverLord.”

“You certainly know how to do the good soldier thing, don’t you?” I said as he guided me through the door panel and out into the corridor. “Does he snap his claws to see how high you can jump?”

“He is the Commander of the Faction forces,” Reever said. “And my brother.”

What? “Funny, you don’t look much alike. Does he take after Mom, or Dad?”

We arrived at the Command center. TssVar gave me a surly look before indicating two seats in front of a large wall display. “I have the scans on what we have discussed, HalaVar.”

We sat as the Hsktskt accessed his console, and a large star chart appeared. A slow-moving cluster of dots indicated the position of the fleet, which was moving past what appeared to be the outer curve of an enormous asteroid belt.

“It will not be necessary for the fleet to drop out of flightshield and return to collect us. Your recollection was correct, as always.” The Hsktskt stabbed a claw toward a wide swatch of asteroids. “Aksel maintains a significant mining operation in this region. According to scout shuttle reconnaissance, they have what we require to replace the contaminated fuel. Yet the readings indicate that material is unprocessed.”

I crossed and uncrossed my ankles, and wondered if I’d get away with walking out while they were busy plotting the next raid.

Reever studied the display, enlarged a section of the vid, then tapped a fingertip on the screen. “Here. A squad of centurons can access their processing plant and convert the raw ore into fuel. We must avoid firing on the power core.”

That drew my gaze to the console, and the displayed schematic of a large space station. Mining operation meant miners ran the place. “I don’t think they’re going to open the air locks and give you free access to their equipment,” I said.

TssVar’s neck scales crinkled as he turned to give me his attention. “We will attack the operation and take what we need.”

“That’s nice.” I got up. “Excuse me, I have to report to Medical and do something meaningful now.”

“Remain, Doctor.” The OverLord’s claws clattered against the console as he switched off the display. I stopped, pinned on a patient smile, and waited. “She demonstrates improved obedience HalaVar. Most promising.”

“Perhaps.” Before I could tell them both where to go, Reever turned to me and said, “You will accompany my assault team.”

My smile turned into a gape. “Huh?”

“You will accompany me when we raid the Aksellan ore station.”

He had to be kidding. I blinked. No, he was serious. “I wouldn’t accompany you to raid a supply closet, you oblivious dolt.”

TssVar’s tail lashed the deck, causing a small tremor to ripple under my feet. “I see I spoke in haste. She requires more training.”

Reever inclined his head. “I will see to it.”

“Hey,” I said, stomping my own foot to get their attention. “I’m not a pet. And for your information, doctors make lousy soldiers.” Neither of them blinked. “You don’t need me. I’ll just get in the way.”

“On the contrary.” My ex-husband folded his arms and regarded me with distant amusement. “You will go in and negotiate their surrender.”

“Since when did I get elected as Faction Ambassador?”

“Your former colleague’s people will find you more acceptable,” TssVar said.

“Former colleague?” Bewildered now, I glanced at Reever, then the OverLord. “What are you talking about?”

Reever keyed up another image on the display. “These are the Aksellans.”

All the bones evaporated from my legs, and I abruptly sat back down. “Oh, no.”

The miners appeared to be large, black and green, well-fed spiders. Exactly like one I’d befriended and served with at the FreeClinic on Kevarzangia Two.

We were about to attack Dr. Dloh’s people.

I’d gone from the Heroine of Joren to a Hsktskt collaborator, in the space of a few weeks. Was I happy about it? No. Was there anything I could do about it? No. But I’d be damned if I was going to take part in one of their raids, and said as much. Several times. Loudly.

Everyone ignored me, except Reever, who made it clear that I was the only chance the Aksellan miners had of surviving the assault.

The crippled
Perpetua
advanced slowly on the asteroid belt. I got to watch from command, where Reever had insisted I wait before boarding the launch.

“I want a medical relief team with me when we enter the Central Processing Station,” I said to the Hsktskt Commander.

That seemed to entertain him. “The Faction does not provide rescue operations.”

“It does now.” When his huge eyelids dropped, I gave him a bright smile. “Think of it as a good will gesture. Patch up enough miners, they may surrender out of gratitude.”

Octagonal scales gleamed as he went back to studying the monitors. “You are nothing but trouble, SsurreVa.”

I played it cool and watched, too. “Does that mean I get my way?”

For a minute, I thought he was going to refuse, but then he made a sinuous gesture. “Assemble your team.”

I went down to Medical with Reever and issued my orders. The League staffers were aghast, until I reminded them what the penalty for noncompliance was. Zella started getting the others busy. Reever, who stood off to one side watching me, tagged along as I herded my people out into the corridor and sent them down to the shuttle bay.

“The miners will attempt a counterattack,” he said as we followed them.

“Good.” I quickened my step. “Maybe they’ll get lucky.”

Reever kept pace without effort. “You don’t want to die, Cherijo. There are too many reasons to continue existence.”

“Like being your slave-girl?” I laughed. “Cross fire gets more attractive by the moment.”

A corner of his mouth lifted a centimeter or two. Reever’s version of a smile. Before I could slap it off his face, we arrived at the shuttle bay.

Reever bypassed the medevac team and headed for a group of Hsktskt centurons, three of whom were standing together talking in quiet hisses
and clicks. One of them was the browless Hsktskt guard who had tried to teach me manners in Medical.

“OverCenturon GothVar.” Reever stepped between him and his pals. All three beasts fell silent. “Is the team prepared to depart?”

FlatHead’s tongue flicked out. “Yes, OverMaster HalaVar.” I got the distinct impression this Hsktskt didn’t like Reever. At all. And from the subtle change in Reever’s voice, he was completely aware of GothVar’s dislike. It wasn’t the usual who’s-in-charge thing, either. They actually hated each other.

I led the League medevac team into the shuttle, where we sat facing the Hsktskt centurons. No one wanted to sit next to me—naturally—so I wasn’t surprised when Reever eased into the harness on my right.

“Worried I might need to hold your hand?” I asked, too aware of the memories of other jaunts at Reever’s side.

“I know what you need,” Reever said and secured the last strap over his chest.

“Don’t hold your breath hoping I’ll ask for it,” I said.

The Central Processing Station maintained orbit just beyond the perimeter of the asteroid belt. Six compact, efficient-looking wheels revolved around the gigantic median core. What puzzled me was the long metallic streamers attached at regular intervals around the wheels’ outer hull plates. What was the purpose of the “fringe”?

“The Aksellans use arutanium tethers to travel from the processing station to the outer fringe of the asteroids,” Reever said, making me jump in my harness.

Reading my mind again, the nosy bastard. “Can they be used as garrotes?”

“The Aksellans possess five different silk-producing glands, originally used to convert excretory by-products into snarewebs to capture prey. Over the centuries of species’ development, much of which was spent below the surface of their homeworld, the arachnids evolved into natural miners. They are quite capable of dealing with the problems posed by asteroid mining, and have redefined tether technology.”

Even the lizards were starting to look bored. “Yeah, but can you hang someone with it?”

“Each miner ingests arutanium, which is excreted from a particular gland, along with the pseudo-silk material and strengthens the lengths of snarewebbing. The natural tethers are then attached to the exterior hull of the processing station, and the miners use them as anchor cables when traveling from the station to the outer fringe of the asteroid belt.”

“So they chew up some mineral, spit it out, and use it like ropes to swing out to the rocks,” I said, and yawned.

Reever leaned closer. “It is slightly more complicated than that.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” I tried not to look at the looming image of the station through the viewport. “I want to go in alone.”

That made him straighten up. “No.”

“You want me to negotiate a surrender? The minute they see the Hsktskts, they won’t hear a word I say.”

“I cannot permit it.”

I closed my eyes. “You’d better permit it, or I don’t move an inch from this seat.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. Then I heard, “Very well. I will go with you.”

FlatHead, I noticed, was following our conversation closely. He rose out of his harness and crossed the deck to stand over both of us. “OverMaster, I will take my squad in before you and the Designate enter the facility.”

“So you can kill anything that moves?” I snorted. “That should get us tons of free fuel.”

OverCenturon GothVar didn’t like my comment. “When you are on my tier, Terran, I will teach you silence.”

I glanced at Reever. “What’s a tier?”

“A section of slave chambers on Catopsa,” he said. “The OverCenturon supervises the female humanoid tier.”

The lizard leaned in and blasted me with his bad breath. “My slaves swiftly learn their place.”

The stench of decay was making me sick. “Where’s that? As far away from your mouth as possible?” I ducked just in time to avoid the blow he aimed at my face. A dent appeared in the interior panel above my head. “Temper, temper.”

Reever caught the Hsktskt’s limb before he could hit me again and did something that made the guard’s tongue shoot out then curl down over his lower jaw. I’d guess that meant it hurt.

“She belongs to me,” Reever said. “And she is mine to correct.”

“He’s so masterful when he’s feeling stingy, isn’t he?” I said to FlatHead.

Reever released GothVar, then gave me a will-you-shut-up glare before continuing. “You will not attack the miners. No weapons are to be fired without my express permission.”

“TssVar will hear of this,” the Hsktskt said, then backed away.

“Uh-oh, he’s going to tell on you.” I smirked at my keeper. “You’re going to get in trouble.”

Reever hauled me to my feet, then addressed the troops. “Dr. Torin and I will make the first contact with the miners. The rest of you will remain inside the access corridor until you are signaled.”

The troops didn’t rally to his orders. In fact, the troops appeared fairly put out by them.

The League shuttle was evidently equipped with docking overrides, as the pilot had no problem accessing the shuttle clamps. It took a minute for one of the Hsktskt to bypass the access codes, the Reever and I walked down the short passage into the main air lock.

When the interior door panel slid to one side, we faced a long tunnel of ash-colored stone. A damp, acrid odor drifted over us, and made me wrinkle my nose.

“They need to air this place out.” I walked ahead of Reever, and peered at the nearest curving wall. “What is this stuff? It isn’t rock.”

The walls seemed to be made out of mesh or insulation material, the kind that mimicked stone. Some form of homeworld-effect decor?

“Cherijo.” Reever jerked me backward as a perfectly round grey hatch popped out of the floor just in front of me.

Something black and green emerged from a vertical shaft and immediately bounced up to hang from the ceiling. An Aksellan, judging by the close resemblance to my old friend Dr. Dlon. It had no weapon, but two impressive fangs slid out from a fold in its front appendages. Dark drops oozed from the hollow-pointed tips, and sizzled as they made holes wherever they fell.

“Think they’re the welcoming committee?” I said to Reever.

More concealed hatches burst open, and soon we were surrounded by twenty very large black-and-green spiders. None of them carried weapons, but all had fangs bared, and spinnerets erect and pointed at us. They knew we weren’t there to say, “Hi, can we take the tour?”

“Ztay where you are!”

With that acidic poison dripping around me? I wasn’t making a break for it.

Like my former colleague, the miners wore modified tunics over their exoskeletons. Each had a hard, shiny carapace marked with bright green pigmentation patterns. Tiny clusters of eyes glittered above their U-shaped mandibles. Sensory hairs on the inside of their appendages quivered, responding to the slightest air movements.

That was when I figured out the tunnel wasn’t a tunnel, but a tightly woven web. And, like the proverbial flies, we had just walked into it.

“Leave thiz ztation,” the largest Aksellan said. He had the greatest amount of green mottling on his cephalothorax. A sign of age, I guessed. Or an indication he was the deadliest. Dr. Dloh had often complained about the daily chore of draining the poison sacs in his forelimbs before treating patients.

“I’m sorry, we can’t do that,” I said as I took a step forward and showed him my empty hands. “The ship outside your station has been commandeered by the Hsktskt Faction. Please understand, we won’t harm you. Now we can do this the easy way, or—”

One of the other Aksellans spat a metallic stream of fluid at me. Reever jerked me to one side, and the snareweb fluid fell, forming a pool of hard, gleaming silver.

“—the hard way,” I said, staring at the puddle. My gaze went to the leader, who was buzzing something in his native language to the spider who’d tried to snare me. “Please listen. If you don’t surrender, the Hsktskt will attack.”