The Siege of New Terra (Star Sojourner Book 7) (20 page)

“And the Orghes will drop like flies?” I asked.

“Oldore will fall first. That'll be the signal for the others to follow.”

“It's very quick, Joe, and it's painless. Do they know that?”

“I read your note. The team will try to revive them, of course.”

“To no avail,” Chancey said. “I always wanted to play doctor.”

“I'm sure Mack will make a few sweeps of the camp,” I said, “either in his hovair or the starship, to get some vis-shots as proof for his employer. Oldore, you'd better station lookouts so the people will be on the ground when he arrives.”

“They are stationed,” he said.

I was led toward the cauldron along a path strewn with wildflowers. The Orghes lined both sides, cheering. My team followed, with Joe and Oldore on either side of me. I smiled and waved at the people. “When the colonists find out that the Orghes aren't really dead, Joe,” I said, “the only thing that'll stop Mack from returning with his hired guns to finish the job, is you. Even if he's already paid, he's obsessive about his reputation.”

“You think I have that kind of influence with Alpha?”

“I do. You've got some IOUs with your friends in high places. Those tags can pass a law that designates New Terra an autonomous world, and no trespassing by colonists. It's in your hands, Joe.”

“Maybe so. I've got some chips I could cash in.”

“That might not be so easy,” Chancey said. “They're running out of worlds to colonize.”

“There's always terra-forming,” Bat offered.

“There's that,” Joe said. “Or arming all the island Orghes with weapons the WCIA purchases from the merchants on New Lithnia. Jules, you know Mack best of any of us. Do you think he'll go against armed natives?”

“I'm not sure. If he loses men in a battle, he might not find others to join him for future missions.”

A child ran out of the crowd and tugged on my pants. I scooped her up and walked toward the cauldron with the girl in my arms. Her mother followed. I kissed the child and handed her to her mother. “Mack could get a reputation among the soldiers of fortune,” I said, “for being reckless with his men's lives. But let's hope it doesn't come to all-out war.”

We paused as Anbria, Oldore's wife, approached me, followed by a group of women dressed in white animal skins. She hung a necklace with a small wooden statue of Orin around my neck. “For your protection.” She wiped a hand across her eyes.

I bowed my head. “Thank you, my friend.”

She took my head between her hands and kissed my forehead. “Go now to the Sacred Cauldron, my son.”

I nodded and we continued on. “Joe, when this is over, I'm taking the jeep to Mack's camp. After he frees Sophia and my five alien friends, they'll drive back here. Make sure they all get on the WCIA ship tomorrow, OK?”

He stopped. “And
you
?”

“I agreed to join Mack's mercenaries as part of this deal. He wants a tel. In fact, he bought me from Commander Tryst before I got away. Now he figures I belong to him.”

“Man,” Chancey said, “you go back there and he owns your ass!”

“He's got Evrill,” Bat said. “Why does he want you?”

“He wants a Terran telepath,” I explained, “who can work with his men. He's prejudiced as hell against Evrill's race, and the Orghes. I'll get away as soon as I can. Mack will head back to Earth to collect his creds for this job. That's when I'll escape.”

Joe shook his head. “As usual, you've devised a plan that will have you walking a tightrope over a pit of fire.”

“What could go wrong?” I asked.

“He could find out,
before
you escape,” Joe said, "that you didn't poison the Orghes.

“There's that,” I admitted. “Have you got a better plan?”

“I do,” Joe responded, “but you won't go for it.”

“Try me.”

“You come back with us on the WCIA ship, and we offer to pay ransom for Sophia and the five aliens.”

“That's too much of a risk for Sophia!” I said. “For
all
of them.”

“I know how you feel about her, son,” Joe said, “but you didn't invite her on this dangerous mission. She knew the risks, like the rest of us.”

I stopped. So did Joe and the others. “Dad,” I put a hand on his shoulder, “if Sophia dies so I can survive, I couldn't live one more day. You
know
what happened with Ginny, and how it's affected me all these years.”

“I know, son.” He patted my hand on his shoulder, “and I'll honor your decision.” He turned to Chancey and Bat. “
We'll
honor it.”

Tears welled and I blinked them back. “Thanks, Dad.” I hugged him and felt his shoulders shake as a sob escaped him.

We reached the cauldron and a hush fell over the people.

Oldore stepped onto the platform, with the statue of Orin, and stacks of wooden cups. He turned to the crowd. As he gave a short speech in his native tongue, which was Orghian to me, I discreetly took the vial from my inner pocket and palmed it.

Oldore finished his speech and motioned for me to ascend the steps.

I did, and he handed me a beautiful carved bone ladle. As I thanked him, the people wiped hands across their eyes. Shayls wheeled above our heads.

Here we go,
I thought, filled a cup, and pretended to drink. I handed it back to Oldore, popped the cap on the vial of water, and poured it into the cauldron. The people pretended not to notice. A Shayl swooped down and glided over my head.

Oldore motioned for the people to gather closer to the platform. Anbria led her group of women onto the platform and they began ladling the liquid into cups and handing them out.

When all the peoples' cups were filled, Oldore raised his and drank. The people lifted their cups.

“Here we go,” I whispered as they drank.

I gave it about a minute and told Oldore “Now!”

He clutched his chest and sank to his knees, then fell over. The people put on a good act of surprise and fear, with cries and wails, then they began to fall.

Joe, Chancey, and Bat ran among them, pretending to make efforts to revive them.

The Shayls swooped down for a closer look and I held up the empty vial.

They glided away, toward their base camp.

I turned to Joe and forced a smile. “See you back on the homeworld.”

He cleared his throat. “We'll drink a toast in my den.”

I walked past “dead” Orghes and climbed into the jeep. Huff jumped into the back. I closed my eyes, spun a coil, and threw it at him.
You must get out of the jeep.

“No!” he cried. “I will not.”

I turned. “You can't come with me, buddy.”

“I can't stay while you go to The Pit alone.”

“All right! But you've got to get out before I reach Mack's camp.”

“I will make you no promises.”

Big Mack paced at the gate of his base camp, slamming his fist into his open palm. “Do you see him yet?” he asked Tempest, who scanned the desert land beyond the camp with graphoculars.

“I see a dust trail, boss.”

“That's him! Gotta be.” He scratched his itchy scalp. "Bring the broad an' those five alien freaks out here.

“You got it, boss.” Tempest trotted toward the prison.

“Wait!” Mack called. “Give me the graphoculars.”

Tempest trotted back and handed them to Mack. He trotted toward the prison again.

Mack watched the dust cloud grow and move closer to his camp through the graphoculars. “Tempest!”

“Yeah, boss?” He stopped and waited.

“An' bring that freak tel out here, too.”

“Evrill?”

“Well how many tels do we have, yet?”

Tempest trotted toward the prison again.

The cloud began to blow away.

“Tempest!” Mack shouted. “He stopped. Why the fuck did he stop?”

“How should I know, boss? Maybe he had to take a piss!”

“An' maybe you need a swift kick in the ass. Get a jeep, an' get out there. Maybe he changed his mind. If he did, change it back.”

“You got it.” Tempest trotted toward a row of jeeps.

“Wait a minute,” Mack called.

Tempest turned and shrugged broadly.

“Take a couple of tags with you. Who knows what he's up to? He's devious.”

“Anybody in particular?”

“Make your own decision. What am I paying you for?”

“OK!” Tempest trotted toward the bunk tent.

“How about Quirrel?” Mack called. “Him an' Rammis were becoming friends.”

“Quirrel!” Tempest trotted toward the cafeteria.

Mack turned back to the gate and watched Jules drive to a crest in the dirt road and head toward the camp.

“Wait!” Mack called to Tempest. “He's coming.”

Tempest stopped, panting. “So what dya want me to do now?”

“I got to tell you everything? Use your head. That's what I'm paying you for!”

Tempest shrugged.

“Get the bitch, the freak tel, an' those five alien assholes, an' bring them to me.”

Tempest hesitated.

“What're you waiting for?” Mack called.

“Anything else?”

“What else could there be? Tempest in a teapot,” he muttered.

I stopped the jeep below a crest on the hill, just out of sight of Big Mack's camp. “Time to get out, Huff.”

He jumped down and trotted up to me. “I will be here for your call in the mind if you need me.”

I stroked his silky shoulder. “Huff, when Sophia and the five aliens come back in the jeep, show yourself and go to the Orghe camp with them. But don't let the Shayls see you. Will you do that, buddy?”

He touched his head to mine. “I will remember all you say, and the soft, scratchy sound of your voice. I will remember how your yellow hair flutters when the wind rides through it. I will remember your eyes when the sea looks at the sky. I will remember your pale, furless skin, like the smooth inside of the bottom sheller.”

“Don't make it sound so final, buddy.”

“Each time we take different paths, I ache in my liver that I might not see your smile again, or hear your voice, or smell your pungent odor.” He licked my cheek.

I resisted a reflex to wipe it.

“I have no cub of my own, Jules of Earth. But if I ever do, I will implore the gods to grow my cub's liver as great, and wide, and as filled with honor as your own.”

“That's beautiful, Huff, thank you, my dearest and best friend.”

He touched the small wooden statue of Orin, its hand outstretched, hanging around my neck. “Will this god keep you safe in The Pit?”

“It can't hurt.”

He stared at the sky and I saw tears wet the fur on his cheeks. “While I wait,” he murmured, “I will entreat the Ten Gods. At least one among them, maybe two, will hold onto your paws tight in The Pit.”

“I'll take all the help I can get.” I put the jeep in gear. “Go with God, Huff.”

He nodded and watched me leave.

I crested the hill. Below, Big Mack's camp lay sprawled across the sand, held in the arm of the silver river.

The main gate swung open as I approached. Mack stood beside beefy, tattooed Tempest on his right, and lanky, curly-haired young Quirrel on his left. Two grim-looking, tattooed mercs flanked my five alien friends.

“You tags OK?” I asked Zik, the BEM. He stood straight and defiant on his eight jointed tentacles. His sable coat was ungroomed and beginning to curl at the edges. His huge disc eyes went amber and he leaked a slime trail, sure signs of stress.

“I speak for all of us,” he said. “Our bodies are well enough. Our minds are sorely in need of the freedom of autonomous beings!” He whipped a tentacle around his mantle. “We were never born to be slaves!”

“It won't be long now, Zik,” I told him.

“So you believe.” He moved aside and I saw diminutive Evrill, the tel Egruan. But where was Sophia? I tried to steady my breathing.

“Where's my woman?” I asked Mack.

“Nice job, Rammis,” he said. “According to the Shayls, you creamed all the Orangs.”

I got out of the jeep. “Where is she, Mack?”

He hooked his thumbs behind his holster. “I decided to keep her here. For you.”

“I should've
known
you wouldn't keep your word.” I tried to go around Tempest and get to Mack, but Tempest held me back.

“Call it collateral,” Mack said and scratched his oily hair.

“I want to see her.
Now!
Or the deal's off.”

Mack came forward and patted my cheek. I knocked his hand aside.

“You're devious, Rammis, and you have a dangerous mind. You know what
I'm
thinking, but I don't always know what you're thinking. You'll get a cut for your work, an' you'll be a part of my team. But I need a little insurance, an' the bitch is it.”

Your woman is well,
Evrill sent and kept her head down.
Unhappy but well.

I didn't look at her.
Where is she being held?

I would be punished, possibly killed, now that my employer has you, if I told you the place of her confinement.

But she's OK?

Her heart grieves for you, but she is well.

Thank you.

I watched a hovair take off and turn toward the Orghe camp.

“Just some holos,” Mack said, “to send to my employer and confirm that I successfully completed my mission.” He winked at me. “Only lost one man. Bit of a putz anyway.”

“When can I see Sophia?” I asked.

“When we're in space.”

“Heading back to Earth?”

“Earth? Hell no. Our flight plan will take us first to New Lithnia to collect our pay, and see if there's another job in the offing.” He turned toward the cafeteria. “I'm hungry.”

The mercs guided the group in that direction, then separated out the five alien slaves and marched them to the prison tent. Trumbil, my Kubraen friend from planet Charis, turned his silver, slitted eyes on me from beneath thick, charcoal hair, and extended an ivory-skinned hand in a gesture of friendship. I nodded and extended my hand. A merc pushed him forward. Not good enough to sit at a table with us, in Mack's twisted mind.

Quirrel trotted up beside me and gave me his toothy grin that made his chin disappear into his neck. “I have a treat for you. I especially made you a steak a 'la unicorn rump, smothered in wild trullyburry nuts, and redberries.” He gestured toward the cafeteria as we approached it. “Orange gourds from the premier sand quarries, marinated in yellow sap du jour, and a crisp salad of green and black native plants. Uh, do you happen to have some digestalls? We're almost out.”

I nodded, but my stomach was tied in the proverbial knots. “Bring it to Sophia's cell. I'll eat it there.”

Quirrel stopped short. “Oh. I can't do that, tag.”

“Somehow,” I said, “I didn't think you could.”

I tel-probed the prison as we walked past it, and paused when I touched Sophia's mind.

A desert of the soul. Past tears. Past help. Past hope.

I sent comforting thoughts, though she was not a sensitive and couldn't receive. Still, I could transcend the loneliness that kept non-tels so isolated within their minds, and surround her with an aura of comfort and support on a subliminal level. “Sophia,” I whispered, “my Sophia,” and wrapped the send in an envelope of love.

I watched Mack talk casually to Tempest as we reached the cafeteria, and formed my plan.

* * *

Lunch looked good, but I couldn't eat. I picked at the salad to allay any suspicion of my feelings, which swung from sorrow over Sophia's condition, to an overwhelming hatred of Mack that bordered on an insane desire to see his head on a bloody stake, complete with smoking cigar.

Evrill glanced up at me from across the crowded table, where she was swamped by taller Terrans. Her large amber eyes moved forward to focus and she drew back thin lips in an imitation of a Terran smile.

I smiled back and cleared my mind of all thoughts, my heart of all feelings, and tried to ignore the smell of cigarette smoke that mixed with the aromas of cooking food and made for a sickening brew.

The forty or so mercs at the tables laughed and jostled each other playfully as they ate. I caught images of their starship,
The Sword of Terror,
homeward bound.

A muscular Asian merc, with hair as shiny black as my stallion, Asil, slapped me on the back as he walked by with an empty tray. “Nice job, Rammis! We owe you.”

The mercs tapped their plates with forks in acknowledgment of my part in the death of a community of Orghes.

I waved back but couldn't restrain the thought: “Slimeballs!”

Evrill glanced at me, lowered her head, and ate.

“Rammis!” Big Mack called from down the table. I almost choked on a lettuce leaf. “You're not eating. That's prime steak.”

“Had a big breakfast.” I got up and headed for the door.

The Asian merc, and a skinny teenager with ears like antennas and a twitch in his right eye, got up and followed me. Two more met me by the door, a red-bearded brawny stump of a man, and a tall bald African with a bushy beard. I couldn't help thinking that the African looked as though his head was on upside down.

Evrill,
I sent on a hunch,
will you help me evade them?

I felt her apprehension.
To what end?

The chances are good that Big Mack will kill you instead of paying you, now that he has me. He hates your race. Your only chance might be to escape.

To where?

Earth, I hope, with my team when the WCIA starship picks us up tomorrow. From there, I'll buy you a ticket to Equus, if that's what you want.

Perhaps. And perhaps not.

Give it some thought.
I walked toward the bunkhouse and stopped at the door. “I'm going to take a nap,” I told the four mercs. “You tags want to babysit?”

“I've got a better idea.” Red Beard pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and nodded toward the door. “Let's go.”

“I thought I was one of you,” I said.

“Once we're off-planet,” the Asian moved toward me, “you'll get the rites of passage, so to speak.”

“I've got to pee.” I went inside and headed for the bathroom. “Anybody want to join me?”

I got no answer. I closed the bathroom door behind me. The tent had a low window. I quickly unzipped it.

“Dammit!” I muttered. There was a sealed metal screen behind it. My leg knife would never cut through that, but it might cut the tent material around the screen. I unsheathed it.

The bathroom door swung open. The Asian tag stood there, his stingler in his hand. He swung the ring to stun. “Having trouble finding the toilets? You'll take that nap right here on the bathroom floor.”

“No, that's all right.” I sheathed the knife and stood up.

“Give me that!”

“What?”

“The knife, smartass.”

I took it out and slapped the hilt into his outstretched hand. “Don't hurt yourself.”

He motioned me to the bunkroom and followed me there.

Four of them. I had influenced three on rare occasions, and that was a stretch. Four could be over the top. If they became aware of my probes, I might take that nap sooner than I wanted to, or worse. Then again, if I were caught at it, I could say that I just wanted to see my woman. Would that fly?

I let Red Beard handcuff my right wrist to the bunk's metal frame, and I lay down to get comfortable and to assume a non-threatening position. “How about a bedtime story?” I asked.

“Here's one,” Red Beard said. “Once upon a time there was a pain in the ass who was thrown out of the airlock in space. The End.”

“Nice,” I said. “That makes me sleepy. Good night.” I closed my eyes and formed a red coil behind my forehead. It would have to be fast and strong, and it would have to disperse to reach all of them.

I could almost hear the tel cell clusters, born in quantum, singing within my head, the song of the stars. The coil tightened to white-hot and spun with the force of a small tornado. My ears rang from the power being unleashed behind my eyes. This was more savage than I expected. It seemed another probe overlaid mine in a combined ferocity of power.

Spirit?
I sent.
Is that you?

From the depths of a storm raging within my brain, I felt a ruthless beast of the id rise up with blooded claws to the daylight of the conscious mind. A tsunami crested behind my eyes and broke.

I was transfixed, No more able to move than a moth pinned inside a glass case. No more able to open my eyes than the dead could see. I heard screams around me. The last frantic shrieks of tortured souls, lost, dragged down to Hell by demons of their own creation.

Spirit!
I cried in a throat frozen into silence, and tried to see in eyes sewn shut.

The horrible shrieks collapsed to pitiful whimpers, and then to nothing. My breath shuddered in my chest. Sweat leaked down my cold forehead. My muscles convulsed in spasms I couldn't stop. With each breath, the smell of blood grew sharper. “Great Mind,” I muttered. “Help me.”

“
Open your eyes, Jules,
” I heard, or felt within my mind. I wasn't sure.

I did, and sat up, holding myself with a palm pressed against the cot. Four dead mercs lay at my feet. The dirt floor was grooved where they had raked furrows in their agony. Runnels of blood still ran from the ravaged bodies, torn like disemboweled carcasses of slaughtered cattle. Their mouths hung open, as though in death they still cried out their agony.

The handcuff was open. I slid my wrist out of it, picked up bloody stinglers from the dead, washed them off in the small bathroom sink, dried them, and stuffed them into my jacket and behind my waistband. I reeled out the door and gasped in breaths of cold fresh air.
Spirit?

It is I, Evrill.

I saw her there, standing before the prison door, diminutive and unassuming, almost blending in with her tan skin and colorless clothes.
Did you…?
I sent.

Not me. We. Hurry, before we're discovered.

She opened the prison door. I trotted there and we ran inside. I closed and locked it. “How did you…we?”

“Go to your woman. Her door will be unlocked, so will the cell of your alien friends. Our time is short, before the bodies are discovered.”

Strange that in the middle of this disturbing experience, I felt as though time had slowed. Now I knew how Evrill's race could destroy the formidable Bristra, that devastating blackroot animal/plant that had been let loose on Equus. My own tel powers seemed like child's play compared to hers.

She glided to the aliens' cell. “Is this truly the time for contemplating the innate skills of my race? Yes, Terran! We possess the ability of Psychokinesis. What is your plan?”

“My plan? Oh, we steal their hovair and return to my team and the Orghe camp.”

“Why not steal their starship?”

“They intend to leave New Terra tomorrow on that ship. If they're forced to stay, they might find out that the Orghe people weren't poisoned. Mack will go after them with everything he's got. It'll be a slaughter.”

“Always provide your enemy with a way out?” Evrill asked.

“When you can.”

“That way.” She pointed down the hall of cells. “Your woman.”

As I ran to her cell, I shouted “Sophia!” and gripped the metal bars of the door. It swung open. “Sophia,” I whispered.