Authors: Sean Williams,Shane Dix
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Space Opera
The Prodigal Sun (12 page)
Even as she did so, a man in a green uniform dropped into the ravine barely two meters farther on. He obviously hadn’t seen her from above, hidden as she was by the swirling dust. The moment his feet touched rock, however, his pistol swung to target her. Roche fired instinctively, taking him squarely in the chest. He looked momentarily surprised; then his eyes rolled back and he toppled sideways to the ground.
Roche didn’t move, frozen to the spot. In the wake of her surprise and the sudden movement, her ribs sang like a saw dragged across a wire, sending pain in waves through her chest. Her breath came in short gasps.
A pebble dropped on her head, and she rolled forward, twisted, and fired behind her. A second man, also in the green uniform, tumbled into the ravine, the back of his head black and smoking. Her own shot had missed. Someone else, outside the ravine, had been more accurate.
The body of the second officer twitched once where it had fallen, then lay still. Roche formed the word
continued the Surin.
“What happened?”
“Enforcers?”
Roche stayed put as the Surin drifted off into silence. She doubted whether she’d be able to move anyway, even if she wanted to. In dust this dense, sight gave little advantage. She wondered how it would feel to be Maii, a hunter aiming for the very eyes that helped her see...
If Maii caught the thought, she made no comment.
Roche heard a couple more shots, another thump of energy discharge, and a single strangled cry. Then the wind picked up again, reducing her world to a meter-wide circle with her in the center. Even with her eyelids half-closed, the dust forced her to blink. Effectively blinded and deaf, she huddled close to the wall of the ravine and waited. Small bolts of lightning, triggered by the charge in the air, crackled into the soil around the ravine, stabbing the darkness with an eerie light.
A hand reached out of the maelstrom to take her by the arm, and she raised the gun to strike it away. Someone shouted her name over the wind, but whatever other words followed were instantly swept away. The hand was large and strong, and she couldn’t fight it off. With immense relief, she recognized the plastic of a survival suit above the wrist and guessed it to be Cane, although the rest of him was erased by the storm.
He dragged her to her feet and farther along the ravine. A flash of energy briefly lit the gloom, arcing over her shoulder and exploding harmlessly into rock.
Maii’s voice rose out of the racket.
Silence, then:
The reave’s voice broke off suddenly. Roche glanced at Cane in alarm, but his face remained hidden. As though he too was alarmed, he urged her to move faster. The best she could manage was a quick shuffle, through the sand gathering at the bottom of the ravine, with her lack of sight and the constant buffeting of the wind constantly upsetting her balance, but she hurried as well as she could.
Again the energy weapon flashed, this time from farther away. Barely had she thought that they might be able to escape when something brushed against her, and a shadowy shape reached for her out of the dust. She flinched away, but not quickly enough to escape a pair of enormous, grasping hands. One seized her wrist; the other took her about the face, stifling her shout of alarm. She tried to raise the pistol, but the hand on her wrist twisted it savagely, sending agony burning through her shoulders.
When the hands tried to drag her away, however, they met the resistance of Cane’s strength. She endured a brief, painful, tug-of-war between the two; then the unknown pair of hands fell away. The shape moved around her to confront Cane, and she thought she could hear voices shouting over the wind. Then, clearly silhouetted against a brief bolt of lightning, she saw a gun raised and pointed at Cane’s head, aimed by a shambling bipedal figure at least as tall as Cane himself, and far broader.
Cane glanced at Roche, then nodded. Feeling his hand loosen, she clutched at him, trying to keep him close, but a cloud of dust erupted around them, and Roche suddenly lost sight of him. She called out in panic and tried to go back, but the large hands of her captor held her firm, dragging her away into the fury of the storm.
7
Sciacca’s World
Behzad’s Wall
‘954.10.31 EN
0050
Darkness and silence wrapped themselves around Roche as the wind abruptly fell away. Startled by the sudden absence of noise, she stumbled. The strong hands of her captor roughly righted her.
“This way,” he said, guiding her forward. His voice was coarse, almost guttural, and clearly Exotic. His Caste eluded her for a moment, until she caught a whiff of him. Mbatan, definitely. No other Caste possessed that distinctive bitter smell. A soft flare illuminated their surroundings a moment later and confirmed her suspicions. He was as solid as a bear beneath a brown, stained coverall, with a shaggy mane of hair and limbs like tree trunks.
In the Mbata common tongue, Roche asked the huge figure where he was taking her. He laughed, turning to face her in the dim light. The sound was a throaty bark, testimony to non-Pristine physiognomy.
“I don’t speak Bantu.” His voice was thickly accented, although intelligible nonetheless. “Not anymore.” The blue-green light from the chemical flare flickered over the Mbatan’s heavily bearded and tanned face, catching now and then in the weathered lines that covered his features. “My name is Emmerik,” he said.
“You’re a convict?” Cane’s voice, coming from near Roche’s shoulder, made her jump.
If Emmerik took offense at the question, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned widely, revealing a complete, if slightly yellow, set of teeth. “Time for talk later. This way.”
Again he guided Roche forward. The light revealed that they were traveling through a rough tunnel carved from ancient lava, barely high enough for Roche but broad enough to allow her and the Mbatan to walk side by side. The stone was a uniform, dirty orange, except for the occasional vein of dark grey. As the tunnel wound its jagged way underground, she noticed scars in the rock, suggesting that it had been carved by shaped explosives and with the bare minimum of finesse. A rush job.
“You were following us?” She began it as an accusation but ended it as a question.
“We expected the Eckandi and Surin in the next shipment. When the shuttle crashed, Haid sent me to investigate. I recognized Veden from the file we had on him—but you I wasn’t so sure about.” He shrugged mightily, all the muscles in his back and shoulders rippling. “No offense. It wasn’t until the Enforcers moved in on you that I was fairly certain you were working with the Eckandi and not against him.”
“So why take so long to help us?” Cane’s voice was smooth in the cool quiet of the cave, but Roche thought she detected a hint of annoyance underlying his words. “We were struggling out there, in case you didn’t notice.”
“I felt it would be best to wait for the cover of the storm before acting. They come in waves on Sciacca. The one that just hit us was the second of a tri-rage. I knew it had to hit soon—as did the Enforcement—so I just kept my distance until it did.”
“And this?” said Roche, indicating the tunnel they were walking along. “This is the base of the resistance?”
Roche had suspected they had been captured by the covert movement Veden had mentioned, and when Emmerik failed to deny it, she knew she was right.
“No. We just use these tunnels and the ravine for recon, mainly. If we need to get to the port unseen, and so on.”
“Is that where we’re going? Port Parvati?”
“Not yet.” The Mbatan gestured for her to continue walking, but said nothing more.
The tunnel continued for five hundred meters or so farther, dipping downward at one point, until it opened onto a slightly larger chamber.
Veden looked up as they entered, his cold eyes glittering in the unnatural light. “What did you do to her?” he asked Emmerik, his tone harshly accusing. The Surin lay in a fetal position on the rough stone floor at his feet.
“Xarodine.” The burly Mbatan ushered Roche and Cane into the chamber ahead of him. “If she’d squawked at the wrong moment, the Enforcers would have known where to find her.”
“She has more control than that!” Veden barely kept his rage in check. “She’s not some fledgling talent you’d buy for a copek at a local—”
“I couldn’t take that chance,” said Emmerik calmly over Veden’s outrage. He slipped a filthy hand into his coverall and removed the dart gun that had administered the dose. “Besides, it’ll wear off in a few hours—then we’ll get to see exactly what she can and cannot do.”
Roche, studying the curled form of the Surin, felt suddenly sorry for her. Xarodine inhibited the epsense ability. The girl was, as a result, cut off from her senses, trapped in her own skull like any other blind deaf-mute.
“You.” Emmerik handed Roche a tablet with a flask of water. “Take this.”
“Why?” She eyed it suspiciously. “What is it?”
“Painkiller. We need you fit if we’re going to make the hills by nightfall.”
Veden’s glare doubled in intensity. “She’s not with us. Nor is he.”
Emmerik glanced from the Eckandi to Cane, but there was no suspicion in his expression. “If I’m not mistaken, he saved your life back there.”
“She’s with COE Intelligence,” he said. “And he’s with her.”
“Regardless. The Enforcers fired at her too.”
“I don’t care,” said Veden. “They’re not
with
us.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time you need help,” said Roche.
Veden stared, the half-light highlighting the anger on his face. “I don’t need the help of the Armada!”
“We could have left you on the
Midnight
to fry, and you know it.”
“Hey!” Emmerik cut Veden’s response off before the Eckandi had a chance to speak. “I don’t give a damn
who
she’s with. What happens to her is up to Haid, okay?” When he was certain that neither Roche nor Veden would continue the argument, Emmerik turned away and shrugged into an old, well-used backpack. “I leave in five minutes. Whoever wants to come with me can. Whoever doesn’t can stay.” The Mbatan’s eyes settled on Roche again. “And if you don’t want that tablet, give it back. Medical supplies aren’t easily come by on Sciacca.”
Roche placed the tablet in her mouth, wincing at the bitter taste. She quickly washed it down with water from the flask, which tasted of dirt and left an oily residue on her tongue.
“I’m with you,” she said, handing back the flask. “Not that I have much choice.”
“Too right, lady.” The Mbatan came close to a smile. “You wouldn’t last a day out there in your condition—even with your friend.”
“What about Maii?” Veden interrupted brusquely.
“You can lead her.” The Mbatan smiled, teeth glinting in the eerie chemical light. “Think she’ll trust you?”
Veden turned to help the girl to her feet. Maii’s hands fluttered for a moment over the Eckandi’s face and hair, then became still. She allowed herself to be led across the room with her hand clutched tightly in his. Roche noted, however, that there was more desperation in the clasp than affection.
“Good.” Emmerik nodded. “We’ll move in a line with me in the middle. You,” he said to Cane, “go first, then you.” Roche nodded. “Then the others. And I’ll have your weapons before we go, thanks.”
Cane hesitated for a moment, then handed over the laser. Roche did likewise with the pistol. Veden produced a stolen Enforcement rifle from under his robes. All three vanished into the voluminous folds of the Mbatan’s pack.
“Good.” Emmerik swept the chamber with the flare to ensure that nothing had been overlooked, then gestured down the corridor. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Roche nodded to herself, remembering the wave of gloom that had almost overwhelmed her earlier. The emotion had been accentuated by the ions presaging the dust storm, she knew, but that knowledge did little to console her.
Roche shrugged and sighed. They had been walking rapidly for almost half an hour without once leaving the underground tunnel. The painkiller Emmerik had given her had dulled her shoulder to a mere ache without numbing her mind as well. And, with little to distract her, she found herself slightly bored—despite her uncertain circumstances.
Cane’s voice suddenly broke the quiet, his words resounding along the tunnel down which they walked. “Those people who attacked us,” he said over his shoulder. Roche could tell he was talking past her to the Mbatan. “There were six of them, right?”
“That’s right,” said Emmerik. “Standard recon team.”
“And we took out four.”
“The Surin one, your friend one, and you two,” the Mbatan confirmed. “You fight well in the dust, for an off-worlder. For anyone, to be honest. Where were you trained?”
“That leaves two,” said Cane, ignoring the question.
Emmerik grunted a laugh. “Yes,” he said. “That leaves two. If we’re lucky, they’ll believe you staggered off into the storm and died.”
“And if we’re not?” put in Roche.
“They’ll have this area swarming with Enforcers.”
“Will they find the tunnel?”
“Probably.” Emmerik scratched his beard, the rustle of fingertips on hair clearly audible over the dull echoes of their footsteps. “But I don’t believe that will happen. Most likely they’ll just send another recon team to quarter the area.”
“And then?”
“That depends on how badly they want you, doesn’t it?” he said. “And why. What did you do? Blow up the ship?”
“No. We were ambushed by the Dato Bloc.”
“Dato? Here?” Emmerik couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Well, well. That
is
interesting.”
Silence fell for a moment. Roche could almost hear the Mbatan’s mind turning, until Veden spoke up.
“She’s carrying something they want. An AI. It’s strapped to her back.”
“They must want it badly to raid the Commonwealth.”
“Obviously,” said Veden.
“Maybe they’ll even be prepared to pay for it,” ventured Emmerik.
“A great deal, I’d imagine,” said the Eckandi.
“Yes.” The Mbatan’s voice changed to mimic the Eckandi’s suggestive tone. “And all we’d have to do is sell her out, right? Hand her over like some low-grade ore in exchange for a few credits?”
Veden fell silent.
“I don’t like you much, Makil Veden,” said Emmerik, “no matter what Haid says you can do for us. Remember that. I don’t care what she is or what she’s carrying; it’s what she
did
that counts. On Sciacca’s World, a life saved is worth something.”
“My name is Roche, Emmerik. Morgan Roche. Not ‘she’.”
Emmerik ignored her. “Do you hear me, Veden?”
“I hear.” The Eckandi’s voice was low and dangerous. “But I will raise the matter with Haid when we arrive. The reality of your situation makes sentiment meaningless. Perhaps he will see things differently.”
“You obviously don’t know him very well.” The Mbatan’s heavy palm descended onto Roche’s shoulder. She couldn’t tell whether the gesture was meant to reassure her, but she knew it wasn’t threatening. “If the AI Roche carries is so valuable, then we may be able to use it to our advantage.”
She said nothing, let the moment bury his words. Pledging herself and the Box to Emmerik’s cause seemed premature, no matter how much she owed him.
“I will freely offer any assistance I can give,” said Cane.
Roche frowned in the dark, surprised by Cane’s words.
The Mbatan laughed. “That I expected. You are clearly a man of action: a trained soldier for certain, someone who recognizes debts of honor.” He paused for a few steps. “I suspect that I can trust you, wherever you are from.”
“My origins are unknown,” said Cane. “Even to me.”
“An unknown soldier, eh?” Emmerik shrugged, the fabric of his coverall shifting noisily over his large frame. “Then it must be a natural ability.” His hand fell away from Roche’s shoulder as he added, “Quiet now. The exit is nearby.”
A few meters farther, and Emmerik called the party to a halt. He lit another chemical flare, and the weird light revealed that they had stopped in a chamber similar to the one they had left earlier. This time the tunnel did not continue on the other side. Instead, a rope ladder dangled from a gnarled cavity in the ceiling.
“I’ll go first,” said Emmerik, “to open the hatch and make sure the area is secure. Wait here.”
The Mbatan swung his bulky form up the ladder with surprising speed. The mica in the rock wall flickered under the light from his flare as he ascended into the shadows. Moments later, a shaft of muddy light spilled through the hole, followed by the sound of wind and a shower of fine dust. Roche waited patiently, idly flexing the muscles of her right arm and wondering how she was going to climb the ladder one-handed.
Emmerik returned, his pack gone and his dirty teeth cutting a wide grin through his beard. “All’s clear,” he said. “You, soldier, go first.” Cane nodded. “I’ll bring the reave. Veden will follow me. Then I’ll come back for you, Commander.”
The rope ladder danced as Cane began his graceful ascent, his movements as nimble and surefooted as any Surin child Roche had seen. Emmerik reached out for Maii, who immediately retreated from his alien scent.
“Don’t be afraid, little one.” Emmerik’s voice was gentle and soothing as he tried to ease his arms about the Surin’s shoulders.
The girl shied away even farther.
“She can’t hear you,” said Roche. She reached out to touch the Surin’s arm, to offer reassurance. Much to her surprise, the girl clutched at her hand with both of hers and held it tight.
