Escape From Zulaire (11 page)

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Authors: Veronica Scott

BOOK: Escape From Zulaire
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In the morning, Andi and the others packed the supplies and headed into the thick forest for a long day’s slow march. By midmorning, Tom told her they were less than half a mile from the transportway. “I have hopes of capturing or commandeering some vehicles, but we’ve got to avoid roving groups of rebels. Wilson, you and Rogers scout ahead. Check out the situation on the road and report back.”

Working their way into the brush, the two soldiers disappeared from view. Grateful for the break, Andi sank down in the grass, getting out her canteen.
I hope Wilson takes his time on that recon.
She was lightly dozing when Wilson and Rogers crashed back into the clearing at a dead run. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up with a start, grabbing for her blaster.

“Trouble ahead, sir,” Wilson reported crisply. “Party of hostiles has four civilians stopped on the transportway. Looks like things are going to get ugly
fast
.”

“We should go help them.” The urgent thought impelled Andi to her feet, and she took a step or two in the direction the scouts had just come from.

Tom moved fast, grabbing her elbow hard and glaring down at her. “I thought I told you—
more than once
—my primary orders don’t allow me the discretion to go around the countryside rescuing everyone in distress.”
 
He spaced out each word for emphasis. “I have to get back to the capital. We’ve got vital information that could stop the entire planet from descending into war. I can’t conduct firefights and rescue
individuals
. You were an exception because someone somewhere pulled a lot of rank and got special orders issued. Okay?”

Biting her lip, Andi flushed and jerked her elbow away from him.
I wish he wouldn’t keep rubbing it in my face that I got special treatment. I didn’t
ask
for him to come rescue me.
 

Apparently satisfied she wasn’t going to argue, Tom’s next remark was addressed to the waiting sergeant. “How many hostiles?”

“Fifteen. Armed with standard planetary-issue weapons, from what we could see.” Rogers nodded his agreement with Wilson’s rapid assessment. “No heavy stuff. No Sectors contraband. We could take them, sir.”

Brow furrowing, Tom glared at Wilson. “We have to stay on mission here. You’re starting to sound like her.” He jerked his thumb at Andi. “I need a reason to break our rules of engagement.”

Wilson looked at Rogers, getting no help from him beyond a sheepish shrug. Turning back to the captain, the sergeant continued to plead his case. “They’re roughing up a bunch of
priests
, sir. Defenseless noncombatants. Don’t seem right to walk away, orders or no orders. I…can’t explain it any better.”

Tom pulled out his blaster and checked the charge. “All right, I’ll commit to going and assessing the potential for intervention.” He fixed Andi with a stern gaze. “I am
not
promising to intervene. So don’t push it, Miss Markriss.”

Afraid to say anything and risk changing his mind, she simply nodded. From what she’d seen of Tom so far, he’d intervene all right.
Soft heart inside a very tough exterior.
She bit her lip, realizing he and his men would be going in harm’s way, based mostly on her request.
I hope we won’t all regret my urging them into danger. There aren’t any good choices, only risky tradeoffs right now.
She breathed a little prayer to the Lords of Space to watch over Tom and his men in the coming moments, especially if the situation turned into a firefight.

“If they have vehicles, we could use a lift. The whole point of tracking us back to the transportway was to beg, borrow or steal a ride home.” Having found a military rationale, the captain wasted no time in moving out. “Abukawal, keep Sadu and Lysanda well to the rear.” He motioned for Wilson and Rogers to lead the way.

Andi crept southward behind Tom, moving through the brush and scrubby trees lining the ridge. Soon, she was high atop the ridgeline itself, at a vantage point opposite the roadblock where the unwary travelers had been caught. The road was clogged with vehicles and a large mass of people.

“Looks like they forced the passenger vehicle off the road.” The captain stared at the scene below them through his distance-viewers. Slowly, he tracked along the line of the transportway.

“How can you tell?” Andi eyed the road.
All I see is a wrecked car and an angry mob.

 
Wilson leaned in on her other side, speaking quietly right at her ear. “See how the two cargo haulers and the smaller car are angled on the near side of the road? They double-teamed the driver, boxed him in, caught nice as you please.”

Tom lowered the viewers. “Priests weren’t expecting any trouble. Their vehicle looks like the high-end luxury model. Not built for speed.”

Things have obviously deteriorated in the short time since Wilson and Rogers first reconnoitered the site
. Andi scanned the scene. Two of the black-robed Sanenre priests now lay unmoving, covered with blood in the muddy roadside ditch. Two priests—one young, one elderly—remained standing on the elevated road. A half circle of jeering Naranti rebels loosely surrounded the pair, turning on these defenseless members of their own Clan. Trying to shield his companion from their assailants, putting his body in front of the older man, the younger priest extended his arms wide in a blocking motion. Judging by his gestures and attitude, he was arguing with the rebels.

Burning fiercely, the boxy passenger vehicle was sending thick black smoke skyward. Andi eyed the car warily.
I’m surprised the fuel tank hasn’t blown yet from the fire
.

Next minute, she stifled a scream as one of the men in the throng below raised his weapon and shot the younger priest at point-blank range, sending him staggering across the pavement. The old man tried unsuccessfully to catch him before he tumbled off the raised transportway into the ditch with his luckless fellows, coming to rest against their bodies.

The remaining priest rose from where he’d fallen. Smoothing his robes, he stood quiet and calm in a half circle of shouting, heckling tormentors. There was no avenue of retreat.

He looks
really
familiar. How do I know him?
“Let me have the viewers.” She tugged at the strap around Tom’s neck. With some reluctance, he unlooped the viewers, ducking his head to get disentangled and then handing them over. After a moment fumbling with the adjustment, Andi peered across the ravine, focussing on the priest’s face, one glance confirming her suspicions as to his identity. “Serene Holiness Rahuna.”

She dropped the viewers, clutching at Tom’s arm. “We have to save him.”
Think, think, what can I say that will give him grounds to act?
Taking a deep breath, Andi spread her fingers in a self-calming gesture.
 
“Look, Rahuna is the Pontiff of Sanenre, head of the planetary religion. He’s one of the few people on Zulaire respected by
everyone
.
 
All three Clans trust his word. If this war is going to be stopped, he’s the only man who can do it.”

“She’s right, Captain.” Andi shot Abukawal a look of pure gratitude as he spoke up. “If Rahuna dies, there will be chaos. In time of Clan warfare, the Obati and Shenti are required by our gods to turn authority over to Sanenre’s Serene Holiness, who is always of the Naranti Clan. His neutrality is unquestionable.” Abukawal nodded toward the ugly scene on the road below them. “If the rabble kills Rahuna, there will be no one able to neutralize this crisis. It takes fifty days and nights of intense ritual for Sanenre to manifest the signs identifying the new religious leader.”

“Anything could happen to Zulaire in fifty days.” Anxiety nipping at her nerves, Andi’s voice rose. “How can the rebels do this? They must know who he is, he’s one of their own people.”

Tom took the viewers back from Wilson, who’d retrieved them from the ground. The captain had a half smile for Andi as he dusted the lenses off with his shirt. “Are we ever going to run into anyone in distress you don’t want me to rescue? No matter what my orders—my very specific orders—say?” He took another look himself. “If this guy is so important, killing him would be a logical strategy for the rebels, Clan loyalties aside. Classic destabilizing move. Buys them more time to solidify their gains.” Lowering the viewers, Tom drew the sergeant aside a few steps for a semi private conference. “Mitch?”

“I say go for it, rescue the guy, sir. It’s worth doing. Fits into our mission on Zulaire in the first place. We can stretch our orders a little more.” He winked at Andi.

She held her breath.

Tom nodded, and Andi exhaled in a rush as he issued his orders. “All right, we move in. Rogers, Latvik, target the men closest to the two trucks. The sergeant and I will pick off the ringleaders. The guy with the pockmarked face, the one with the drop on the old man, is mine.”

“I’m coming, too.” Andi checked the charge on her borrowed blaster.
They’re going into danger at my urging again and I need to be there, do my part.

“I expected nothing else. Stay beside me. Choose your targets from the rear fringe of the mob over there.” He pointed. “And we want the trucks in one piece, if at all possible.” Without waiting for her acknowledgment, Tom turned to Abukawal. “Stay here with the girl and the baby. If we don’t succeed, make your way to the capital. Stay low, travel at night, don’t get involved in
anything
. Your priority is to get there in one piece.”

Abukawal drew himself up, tightening his grip on his weapon. Eyes flashing, jaw jutting, he shook his head once. “Staying on the sidelines is a hard thing for a warrior.”

“I know, I get it. I’m sorry. Your eyewitness information is too important to risk.” Tom clapped Abukawal on the shoulder, then nodded to his own team. “Move out.”

The small party crept down the ridge, utilizing every bit of sparse cover, trying not to draw any attention. Andi tried to match her movements to those of Rogers, whom she followed, and not blunder into Tom next to her. Although she understood the tactical necessity for creeping up on the enemy, the slow pace frayed her nerves.
I just hope we won’t be too late.

The captain signaled a halt about halfway, where a long, rocky outcropping provided limited cover. The soldiers deployed, Andi taking a spot in the middle of the line, still next to Tom, per his instructions.

She was now close enough to hear the discussion going on below, at the edge of the road.

The Naranti mob leader taunted the old priest, an incredible lapse of cultural norms—to berate an elder and one of his own Clan, at that. “You’re powerless to save your companions or yourself.”

Taking a step forward, the ringleader of the mob pushed the old man hard with each sentence he spit out.
 
“Your day has passed. We don’t need you to talk to the Obati and Shenti for us. It is
our
Clan’s turn to rule Zulaire. We’re done bowing and serving. We’ll make them tremble at our war cry, bend their necks to our knives. They’ll have to respect us. The Naranti can carry war banners and fight better than the Obati or Shenti ever did.”

“This is to be the accomplishment of our Clan?” Scorn colored Rahuna’s powerful voice. “The killing of innocents? Taking what isn’t ours?”

The rebel spokesman struck the priest across the face with the butt of his weapon. Spinning from the force of the blow, Rahuna crumpled in a heap, his small shiny black hat skittering across the road.


Enough
. We waste time,” declared another Naranti man, who appeared to be the final authority over the ragtag squad. “Kill him and have done. We must be at the rally point before nightfall.”

Tom half raised his hand, on the verge of signaling his men to fire.

Rahuna struggled to his feet, hand pressed to his bleeding head. “I warn you, and those who launched you on this path of hate and destruction, your crimes are the shame of Zulaire. It’s a betrayal of all we Naranti have stood for as a people, for the last four hundred years of peace. The evil you do will return to haunt you a hundredfold. You won’t gain what you seek from these unholy acts.”
 

Andi shivered at the power in his voice, in his words, even though the message was not meant for her.
It almost sounds like he’s cursing them.
Uneasily, a few men on the edges of the crowd glanced at each other. She hoped they were reconsidering their involvement with this episode of hate.

“You break the peace with unspeakable horrors. You’ll be called to answer for these acts, whether in this world by the authorities or by Sanenre in the next.” Rahuna raised his hands to the heavens, palms up.

“I said be quiet. Your smooth words serve no purpose here today.” The rebel leader took a half step forward.

“The Great Sanenre Who Sees and Judges will decide whether you’re right, or whether
I
speak truth.” Lowering his arms, Rahuna stared straight at the man opposing him.

A broad smirk puckering his pockmarked face, the rebel lieutenant raised his weapon. “Shall I kill you at once, or shall we see how long you can endure pain, old man? How long does the Serenity last?”

Rahuna made a sign with one hand. The leader of the mob hesitated.
 
Speaking softly, the elderly cleric said, “One more moment, I beseech you, to make my peace with Sanenre before I die, one moment to ask his blessing on your souls and mine.”

“Is this guy for real?” Wilson whispered. “He’s hypnotizing them.”

“Yeah, maybe he doesn’t even need our help,” was Rogers’ half-serious rejoinder.

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