Thicker Than Water

Chapter Three

The shimmering golden dust of the Vivant galaxy fell away as Laramie stared out of the window in her room. Something about the dull hum of space passing outside of the ship, the very faint rocking motion it made, made her feel restless.

Mikah had sent three guards along to sit with her for a while, they were all female and the sound of their chatter was soft background noise. They sat huddled on the carpet in their pliable armor. It'd been designed for the female guards so that it could be cut into more comfortable and fitting patterns. For quite some time Mikah had forced them to wear hard armor beneath it, but when the assassination attempts began, the soft armor had proven itself worthy on several occasions.

She stood from her seat on the windowsill and moved to the bed. It hung from the ceiling by four steel beams and loomed there all dressed in black and white. It was so far off of the ground that they had had to place a small ladder for her. As she pulled back the blankets a handful of the pillows scattered, some falling to the floor. She slid under the blankets and pulled them up over her face, letting her mind relax and. For the first time all day, sleep finally began to come to her in gradual waves. Unfortunately, it didn't get close enough before the door opened and Shazza was standing there, framed in the dim light of the hall. "Zion's calling for you," she said. Laramie sat up again and slid back down from the bed without the ladder. The carpet was soft and warm under bare foot, tempting her to climb back into bed and rest.

She padded out of the room behind Shazza who'd already made her way back into the hall and was headed for Zion's room. They'd kept distance between the two for Zion's own safety, because of the assassins, but they hadn't kept them too far apart. He did well on his own sometimes but he still had his moments and they needed Laramie nearby.

A mere three rooms down the hall Shazza swiped her security chip and opened the door to their right. Zion's room was green, his favorite color, and filled with a great amount of the toys from his room at home. Apparently none of that had been enough to appease the child who sat in the middle of the floor, distress written on his face. His large, familiar gray eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked up at her. Laramie went to scoop him up into her arms and he laid his head on her shoulder, piteously. Assassins or not, he would only go so long without seeing his mother.

She sat in a rocking chair that had been placed in the far corner, and slouched in on herself as much as she could without squishing her son. He moved to stretch himself into a curving line across her stomach, leaving his head to rest on her chest, face turned up to look at her. His eyes were droopy with sleep already but he fought stubbornly to keep them open. She rocked in the chair slowly, making soft hushing sounds to the upset child.

"You should be in bed," it was Mikah's voice. She hadn't heard him come in, but she was too tired to be startled. His tone wasn't scolding like she thought it would be. "Is he alright?"

"Just upset," she murmured, "He's about as tired of this as I am. Have we made any contact with the Shifters yet?"

"No," he said, "We've sent their king messages but there have been no replies. We'll have to wait a bit longer before assuming his silence means he is participating in this." She nodded and stood from the chair, clutching the child close to her chest and heading for the door. Laramie retook the short trip between the two rooms with Mikah's heavy footsteps in tow. She tucked the child in on the side of the bed furthest from the door. He grew silent and, by the time she got back into bed, his eyes were closed and he'd given in to the call of sleep. She curled up on her own side and looked down on her sleeping child. He looked so much like his father that sometimes in made her heart ache.

The sound of movement drew her gaze back out into the room. The guards were leaving quietly and Mikah stood just inside of the door, nodding to them as they went by. Laramie closed her eyes and rested her head on two pillows, listening to the distant call of sleep in the slow rhythm of her child's breathing. "Mikah," she uttered.

"Go to sleep," he said, "I'll take watch until you wake up."

Her mind became light and heavy all at once and she could feel consciousness drifting away. This time she slept long enough to dream of the messengers from New Mecca. They were sitting and talking to her again but their eyes were cast in shadows. She moved and tried to gain a better vantage but their eyes were always lost in the deep dark.

She woke again to the slight movement of Zion turning over in his sleep but quickly fell back into the dream. This time the room was foggy and there was something wrong with their hands. They were mutilated and misshapen and they tried to keep them hidden from her sight. The fog in the room grew dark and, over one of their shoulders, she could see Zion playing on the balcony of his room. The room behind him was filled with thick darkness and out of the dark glistened a blade, a curved blade; one that she recognized. It struck out but cut her where it should have cut Zion. Cut after cut, slice after slice.

She woke with a jolt and the phantom sensation of blood running down her arms, hot to the touch. Mikah sat at the foot of the bed with cold eyes. She brought up a hand to rub across her eyes. "How long," she murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

"Almost two full sleep cycles," he said, "We thought we'd let you sleep and wake on your own, but we are getting close to our destination now and there has been a response from the shifter king. You missed breakfast but lunch is soon." He eyed her slowly. "What did you dream of?"

She shook her head. "We can have sharing time later. Where is Zion?" She hadn't meant for it to sound as mean as it had.

"They took him out to the training area and are letting him play games with the maids," he replied, seemingly unmoved by her rude tone. Mikah rarely ever took things to heart, or so it seemed. Perhaps he was just very good at keeping reactions masked. Either way it was one of his most favorable attributes in her eyes.

Laramie nodded and slid slowly from the bed. "Please leave," she said, pacing to the bathing room, "I'll be out soon." His move to leave was a hesitant one but he did as she asked. The bath she took was a quick one, no time to relish in it. She changed into a dark blue dress that hugged her top and flared out from the waist down to sweep at the floor in billowing motions when she moved. She left her hair to fall in damp waves down her back. Her eyes glistened like starlight against the darkness of the fabric.

Mikah was outside of the door when she stepped into the hall and he nodded to her before turning on his heel and leading towards the dining area. Sometimes she felt odd having people just turn and walk without a word. She followed when she was needed and just watched them awkwardly when she wasn't. It was almost dizzying to watch them all buzz around busily, taking no time to enjoy the simplest factors of their freedoms. Its one of the things she held dearest about the courtyard. Everything seemed to slow down to be admired more carefully. Measured beauty.

He passed the dining area, which struck her as odd but then she thought of the message from the shifter king and realized they were going to the conference room. The large metallic room with its projection screen looming against the far wall opened up to their left. Laramie sat with her back to the door as usual but this time it offered her the best view of the screen. "I'd like to play the message before eating," she said flatly, "I can't wait any longer for the answers."

One of the guards stationed along the walls nodded and stepped to a small control window. A light shone from over the door and the other lights in the room grew dim. On the projection screen stood the enlarged face of Leo, the king of the shifters. "Greetings, Queen Laramie," he began, his voice grainy and hearty, "I've received your messages and I apologize for the length between replies. There were investigations to be held. You see, this was the first I'd heard of the attacks and I surely don't tolerate or promote such behavior. Unfortunately the most I've learned so far is that there is someone powerful coming in and talking my people into this by promising them a share in the spoils, whatever they may be." The image flickered and steadied itself again. "I will have a public address to discourage this behavior and to try and coax out anyone with more information. Until then you have my word that I will keep a watchful eye and when I find them I will deliver them to you. Farewell, for now."

The screen went white and the lights came up again. Laramie stared at the screen as if the king's image was still burned there. Her fingers tapped lightly, idly, on the tabletop and her lip curved inward with thought. That frown that sat so out of place of her features lightened and she sat up straighter. "We'll wait then," she said, "Whatever is going on is being initiated on his turf as a direct undermining of his power. I'm sure he will be quick in getting to the bottom of it." She left unsaid that this was making him look weak to his own people, an insult. And he didn't take too well to insults. She'd never met King Leo but he'd sent a few people to Gloria to represent his kingdom in fellowship. They had seemed almost obsessive about behaving honorably so that they did not shame their king. It'd made her wonder how he punished misconduct.

"Let's eat," she said, "How long until we reach New Mecca?"

"No more than an hour," this from Shazza who'd sat quietly the whole while, "Captain says the new engines helped cover more space in a little less time. He also says that the messenger ship ahead of us had two visiting ships on the radar last night. They hovered around for a while and vanished."

"Keep an eye on them," Laramie said, to no one and everyone, "I didn't want to be rude but there's…something there. Something we weren't told. And telling half of the truth is still a lie in my eyes." They nodded and let out a soft chorus of concurring sounds. They all sat and waited for Laramie to eat first. She picked quickly from a bowl of berries and left it at that. Food was not a front-running concern of hers. What lay in wait for them on Helion Prime, however, was.

Imam. She was surprised he hadn't come to fetch her himself. Maybe something was wrong. The thought of the old friend being harmed made her stomach twist and threatened what little appetite she had. She sat and watched the others eat, leaving her food barely touched. She'd taken one blueberry and began to roll it along her fingertips, staining them purplish-blue. Soon the sound of conversation filled the room, friendly, and laced with laughter, but it dwindled as the others finished eating and excused themselves.

"Your majesty," she turned to the door to see one of the co-pilots. They always brought extras, just in case. "We are landing. We need you in the exit cabin, please." Mikah was up and moving towards her before the pilot had finished his announcement.

She stood stepped into the hall, this time with Mikah following her. The other guards filed in behind them in silence. As they migrated down the hallway the sound of laughter rang in her ears. Zion was already in the exit cabin with the maids. Laramie stopped and frowned. "No," she said, "He stays on board."

"Nobody will be here to watch him," Shazza said, "The maids are coming too."

"Their presence isn't needed," she said, turning to the maids, "Stay on board and keep him with you."

"I want to go," he whined. He was four now and, since his last birthday, he had been eager to follow after the soldiers, even if they were headed into danger. When Laramie was busy and Mikah was not, he spent every waking moment with Mikah. He'd even asked for armor while they walked through the market place the week before. Growing up to be a soldier was an honorable thing, but he was growing up too fast for her.

Laramie frowned and reached to tuck one of his brown curls behind his ear while he looked at her with pleading eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, "I can't compromise on this, sweetheart. You have to stay on board."

The ship jolted and groaned as it contacted the ground. A feeling crept over her skin. It was familiar; she knew it in the way that one knows an old book they used to favor. Riddick. She didn't have to reach out through the bonds to know that he was somewhere on the planet they'd just landed on. But where? And why?

As the sound of the engine shutting down and the exit ramp lowering reached her ears, Laramie's mind reached back to the dream from the night before, the blade striking out from the darkness for her baby, and wounding her instead. When she looked over at him he was still looking at her with that beseeching gaze. "Bring him along," she said, and her voice had gone soft and severe, "But guard him before you guard me. If he is harmed for the laxity of one of you, all of you will pay dearly for it."

Mikah leaned over her shoulder as the exit ramp touched ground. "We should leave him on board," he said.

"I agree," she said, "But I'd rather have him with me than have him out of my sight. At least this way I know he's being protected, even if it comes down to me having to do it myself."

"It will not come to that," he said, straightening his large frame up again. He waited, like the others, for Laramie to move, so that the mob could serge forward with her.

Zion reached up and took hold of her hand and she grasped his firmly, but not too firm. He smiled up at her and swung their hands back and forth in mid-air. He was back to his usual playful self, which worried her because his usual self had no place in whatever they were about to step into. There was no guarantee of what was waiting outside of the ship but she knew that whatever it was, she wanted him out of it. Couldn't leave him at home, couldn't leave him on the ship, shouldn't take him along. She wondered if there was anyplace safe for her son. There might always be someone, some blade, striking out from the darkness, aiming to hurt her. And as the New Meccan sunlight fell into the exit cabin, she couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before he got caught in the cross fires.

[Author's Note: Sorry for the absence everyone. Things have been pretty hectic lately, but I am back on the keyboard and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think, ask some questions, scold me for being a late author. That kind of thing. Thank you for reading.]