~~*~~
Chapter 8
~~*~~
Greed is the death of civilizations.
--Xainto Merci, History of Universe, part 4, CY12,923
Tyr entered the Maru to find Trance tugging Cural's limp form toward the air lock. She glanced up as he towered over her.
"I suppose you do not need me now." His dulcet tones echoed.
"Well, he is heavy. You could toss him out for me," she suggested with a wide-eyed look.
With one hand, the large Nietzschean slung the body over his shoulder, carried him to the air lock and flung him out. He turned and regarded Trance seriously, gazing up and down her body as if really seeing her for the first time. "I'm impressed. You did this alone, Little One?"
Her eyes widened. She shrugged. "Kinda, well, the Maru helped ... he ran into the pipe."
He narrowed his eyes, reading between the lines. He sensed that there was more to the story. He often suspected this woman to be much less innocent than she pretended. Innocence was such a rare commodity in the Universe that he didn't believe she could have so much of it. Given the present circumstances, he decided to let it go ... for now.
Rev Bem dashed in through the air lock. "Was that number three?" he asked, pointing back into the hanger bay.
"Yes."
"We're leaving, Tyr. We need you."
The tall Nietzschean met his eyes. "I shall fire up the weapons. We shall need them," he agreed, sliding into the seat of the weapons station and keying in the warm-up sequence as the Andromeda trembled and groaned around them.
She bounced back to the pilot's chair. "Fasten yourself in, Rev. I'm not good at this."
"Then allow me. You see to the child." Rev Bem took the controls from her.
She ran to the baby and strapped them both into seats as the Eureka Maru shot out of the Andromeda's hanger bay into the laser-riddled starscape.
Immediately, they were buffeted by the shock waves from small explosions on the Andromeda's hull. Rev Bem fought the controls.
The gun on the second moon found them, targeted, fired.
"Hang on!" the Magog pilot shouted as the Maru jumped into the Slipstream and vanished from the Soltan system. The beam passed through the empty space they left behind.
Suddenly, the moon's gun burst into tiny pieces as a blast from Andromeda's weapons finally got through.
^j^
Still without Slipstream capability, the Andromeda plodded toward the outer planets of the system. Each planet they passed opened fire upon them with hidden lasguns. Her defenses were being stripped away bit by bit.
Dylan stalked back and forth near the weapons console, fuming. He returned fire whenever necessary but had Beka try to dodge the incoming fire as much as possible. "For a technologically deprived system they sure have a lot of firepower."
"Snakes in the grass," Beka muttered. A fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her forehead and trickled down her nose. Locks of blond hair clung damply to her cheeks. She loved a good fight, but not an ambush.
"Open fire. Random targets. Military targets. Hell, fire at them all," Dylan snapped, growing tired of the fight. "And don't hit the Maru."
"'Bout time," Beka muttered with a smile, glad they were finally going to kick some butt.
"The Eureka Maru has already transited to Slipstream," Andromeda said.
At the weapons console, Dylan coordinated and fired off salvo after salvo in harmony with Andromeda's own volleys. Visible explosions on several planets rewarded their efforts. Dylan allowed himself a satisfied grin as the incoming fire died off. Everything was silent but for the hiss and snap of fried circuitry. A thin haze of stinging smoke blanketed command.
"Whoo hoo!" Beka crowed then broke into a coughing fit.
"Hey, Dylan," Harper's voice came through the com system.
"Yeah?"
"Slipstream's online. Am I a god or what?"
Dylan and Beka exchanged amused looks. Beka silently mouthed the words, 'Better late than never.'
Dylan grinned. "Great job, Harper. Set about repairs. Quickly. We aren't out of the frying pan yet."
"Got your back," Harper said.
"Incoming transmission," Andromeda said.
"Put it through."
An image of the Regent appeared on the view screen, a sour pout on his cadaverous face. His dark eyes glittered like a rattlesnake's.
"Check," crowed the Regent.
"Checkmate," Dylan responded calmly.
The Regent bared sharp teeth. "You have kidnapped a citizen of my domain," he sounded affronted.
"You tried to kill him ... and my crew." Dylan glared at the viewscreen, menacingly. "I don't ... like ... that," he pronounced each word crisply.
"It's a local matter," the Regent purred. "None of your concern."
"So, stop the slaughter. Leave the child, leave all of the children alone. Live and let live."
The Regent waved skeletal fingers in front of his face. "Everyone dies. My family will rule forever."
Dylan scowled. "Your basic premise is wrong." He waited for the words to sink in, leaning forward and watching the Regent closely. The man perked up, a sneer turning up one corner of his large mouth and a skeptical glimmer in his beady eyes. "The boy isn't destined to take over your rule. He's not taking anything from you. His fate is much more important than this minor little outer rim system."
The Regent's sneer faltered. The ramifications of Dylan's words showed clearly in the widening of his eyes until the irises floated in a sea of white. "But ... nonsense! There is nothing larger to rule."
Dylan raised his eyebrows and said nothing. The Regent clearly realized he meant the new Commonwealth, a trans-galactic Empire.
Emotions raced across the Regent's gray face. Abruptly, he straightened in his seat, slowly brushing a hand down the front of his ceremonial tunic with practiced calm. He spoke in harsh, clipped tones, "You have lost our system, Captain Hunt. Your new Commonwealth shall fail. We'll fight you with each breath."
"So be it."
"We have allies spread like insects across the three galaxies. You will regret this."
"When the Magog Worldship arrives you'll be alone."
One corner of the Regent's mouth turned up mockingly. "Don't be so naive, Captain. Should that eventuality arise, your Commonwealth would hardly sacrifice innocents to the slaughter."
Dylan's eyes narrowed. "You're far from innocent!" he snapped. "Enjoy your rule, Regent Fortnoy. I figure you have about fifteen years left." Dylan turned his back to the viewscreen and didn't see the Regent bristle at the insult just before Andromeda cut the connection. The star field glimmered peacefully on the screen.
"Mr. Charming," Beka quipped.
"There is a power surge in the Soltan weaponry. They are opening fire. Incoming," Andromeda intoned.
"Beka, slipstream!" Dylan barked.
Gritting her teeth, Beka plunged the ship into slipstream, leaving the fuming aliens far behind, their laser beams impotent in unoccupied space.
Andromeda's hologram materialized beside Dylan. "What about the prisoners?" she asked.
"Find a small, non-hostile planet nearby. Drop them off." And good riddance, he thought.
^j^
Trance's eyes widened in wonder at the sight of the planet below them. She rocked the sleeping baby, his cherubic cheek pressed into the hollow of her shoulder. The planet seemed green and peaceful. Gray and white cumulous clouds formed a lacy blanket over much of the landmass.
"Wow," she whispered, "look how small the icy poles are. And so much green. It must be beautiful."
"Miserably hot ... and sticky," Tyr groused from the weapons station.
Rev piloted through a hole in the cloud cover. The Maru bounced with light turbulence.
"Mm," he noted, "to the North I believe." He pointed with one curved fingertip claw toward far-off mountains, shrouded in a purple haze.
The Maru arched gracefully through the clear air to skim along the canopy of treetops. Resembling a huge green carpet, the treetops were dotted with flowers in colors both familiar and unique.
The mountains loomed high in the front viewport, rocky and crisscrossed with pink and red vegetation.
"Rev, this Wayist temple of yours, it's in the mountains?" Tyr asked.
"The temple is one with the mountain range, I'm told. Both outside in the forests and burrowed into the very mountains themselves."
"You do know how to get in, don't you?"
"In theory."
Trance and Tyr both gave him a long-suffering look.
It took fifteen minutes of searching to find a clearing big enough to land.
"We've got a short hike ahead of us," Rev Bem said.
"How far?" she asked, rocking the baby back and forth. She held him close, abruptly aware of how attached she was to him. He was so small, so defenseless. He had such a hard life ahead of him. She blinked back tears and buried her nose in his smattering of hair. She inhaled and let the intoxicating scent of baby relax her. She would have to let him go. She couldn't derail the future by changing his life from the path it was now on.
"Perhaps five miles."
"A morning stroll." Tyr draped his pulse rifle and harness over his shoulders. Being armed was instinctive to him.
"Do you really need that?" she queried.
"The most innocent appearances often harbor the most secrets and the most dangers." Tyr stared at her for so long that she squirmed uncomfortably.
"But the priests wouldn't live somewhere like that, would they?" Trance asked as she followed the two males down the metal ramp to the grass. The overpowering aroma of strong scented plants and wet soil hit them like thick soup as they descended to the high spidery grass. It waved in a ghost of a breeze, leaving tiny wet lines on their legs.
Tyr frowned. "Muggy, hot ... miserable."
She breathed deeply, swaying dizzily as the heady scent soaked into her lungs. Insects buzzed a song loud enough to make their ears ring. Trance's violet face lit up with joy. "Pretty," she murmured, thinking how happy the boy should be here. Staring at the treetops high above them, she stumbled over a tree root jutting up from the spongy earth. Tyr and Rev Bem wove through the underbrush ahead of her. Light filtered through the high canopy of leaves, making tiny circles of light dance on the forest floor of soft, slowly rotting leaves. She smiled. The blanket of leaves was spongy beneath her boots. She peered into the deep shadows as they passed and started as an unseen animal skittered away.
"It's said there are no large animals on this planet," Rev told them over his shoulder.
"What do the Wayists eat, then?" she called.
"Fish, vegetables. They are mainly vegetarian here. Ah, the entrance should be up there."
She stopped beside Rev. They stood at the edge of the very tall trees in a clearing near the base of a mountain. Before them the terrain became more rocky, sloping upward at a sharp angle. Large cup-like pale pink, orange and red plants dotted the slope. Long tendrils draped from inside the cups. Flowers in bright purples and blues carpeted the areas between the rocks and large plants.
Rev Bem led the way. "We shall have to walk on the flowers, I'm afraid."
Tyr stopped walking. "That cannot be the correct path." The other two gave him questioning looks. "I refuse to believe that Wayists never leave the complex nor that they'd be willing to trample flowers each time they came into the sun. There must be another path." He studied the hillside sprawled before them. "There, at that end of the clearing there are more rocks, fewer flowers."
"The Divine may have shown you the true path. Lead on."
Tyr led them up the mountainside toward the spot Rev Bem had indicated earlier. The terrain was rocky, easy for Tyr to traverse, but Trance stumbled often, clutching the infant who clung to her. The two males outdistanced her quickly, concentrating on their own ascent. Trance slipped on a mossy rock, fell and caught herself with one hand. She sat down, her shoulders throbbing from carrying the child for so long. The baby began to cry.
"Hush now. Shh, Little One. It's okay," she crooned, smoothing his thin hair and smiling at him.
Behind her was a cup-shaped pink plant. Its skin and leaves so pale they almost looked flesh-like. A brighter pink tendril, draped over the side and lying amongst the rocks and flowers, twitched, moved, slithered toward her body heat and movement. She wiped the tears from the infant's rosy cheeks as his crying slowly subsided into hiccups. She laughed softly, tickling him.
He giggled.
Tyr and Rev Bem paused on an outcropping above them.
The plant tendril, drawn inexorably to her, snaked under the blossoms and moss toward her.
"Are you okay?" Rev Bem called.
"Yes. We'll be right up." Trance brushed the sweat from her forehead, shifted the baby to a more comfortable position, stood and took two steps.
The plant tendril shot out with the speed of a viper, wrapped around her ankle, squeezed and yanked. Trance shrieked. She fell. Flowers covered her nose and mouth. She struggled to hold the baby away from her. She choked, gagged. The tendril dragged her toward the main body of the plant. She fought for air. Sharp thorns and pebbles scratched her skin, leaving a thin trail of plum blood behind. Her foot and ankle burned with searing pain. The baby's wails were deafening. Trance kicked and thrashed.
TBC in ch 9, the last one!
Greed is the death of civilizations.
--Xainto Merci, History of Universe, part 4, CY12,923
Tyr entered the Maru to find Trance tugging Cural's limp form toward the air lock. She glanced up as he towered over her.
"I suppose you do not need me now." His dulcet tones echoed.
"Well, he is heavy. You could toss him out for me," she suggested with a wide-eyed look.
With one hand, the large Nietzschean slung the body over his shoulder, carried him to the air lock and flung him out. He turned and regarded Trance seriously, gazing up and down her body as if really seeing her for the first time. "I'm impressed. You did this alone, Little One?"
Her eyes widened. She shrugged. "Kinda, well, the Maru helped ... he ran into the pipe."
He narrowed his eyes, reading between the lines. He sensed that there was more to the story. He often suspected this woman to be much less innocent than she pretended. Innocence was such a rare commodity in the Universe that he didn't believe she could have so much of it. Given the present circumstances, he decided to let it go ... for now.
Rev Bem dashed in through the air lock. "Was that number three?" he asked, pointing back into the hanger bay.
"Yes."
"We're leaving, Tyr. We need you."
The tall Nietzschean met his eyes. "I shall fire up the weapons. We shall need them," he agreed, sliding into the seat of the weapons station and keying in the warm-up sequence as the Andromeda trembled and groaned around them.
She bounced back to the pilot's chair. "Fasten yourself in, Rev. I'm not good at this."
"Then allow me. You see to the child." Rev Bem took the controls from her.
She ran to the baby and strapped them both into seats as the Eureka Maru shot out of the Andromeda's hanger bay into the laser-riddled starscape.
Immediately, they were buffeted by the shock waves from small explosions on the Andromeda's hull. Rev Bem fought the controls.
The gun on the second moon found them, targeted, fired.
"Hang on!" the Magog pilot shouted as the Maru jumped into the Slipstream and vanished from the Soltan system. The beam passed through the empty space they left behind.
Suddenly, the moon's gun burst into tiny pieces as a blast from Andromeda's weapons finally got through.
^j^
Still without Slipstream capability, the Andromeda plodded toward the outer planets of the system. Each planet they passed opened fire upon them with hidden lasguns. Her defenses were being stripped away bit by bit.
Dylan stalked back and forth near the weapons console, fuming. He returned fire whenever necessary but had Beka try to dodge the incoming fire as much as possible. "For a technologically deprived system they sure have a lot of firepower."
"Snakes in the grass," Beka muttered. A fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her forehead and trickled down her nose. Locks of blond hair clung damply to her cheeks. She loved a good fight, but not an ambush.
"Open fire. Random targets. Military targets. Hell, fire at them all," Dylan snapped, growing tired of the fight. "And don't hit the Maru."
"'Bout time," Beka muttered with a smile, glad they were finally going to kick some butt.
"The Eureka Maru has already transited to Slipstream," Andromeda said.
At the weapons console, Dylan coordinated and fired off salvo after salvo in harmony with Andromeda's own volleys. Visible explosions on several planets rewarded their efforts. Dylan allowed himself a satisfied grin as the incoming fire died off. Everything was silent but for the hiss and snap of fried circuitry. A thin haze of stinging smoke blanketed command.
"Whoo hoo!" Beka crowed then broke into a coughing fit.
"Hey, Dylan," Harper's voice came through the com system.
"Yeah?"
"Slipstream's online. Am I a god or what?"
Dylan and Beka exchanged amused looks. Beka silently mouthed the words, 'Better late than never.'
Dylan grinned. "Great job, Harper. Set about repairs. Quickly. We aren't out of the frying pan yet."
"Got your back," Harper said.
"Incoming transmission," Andromeda said.
"Put it through."
An image of the Regent appeared on the view screen, a sour pout on his cadaverous face. His dark eyes glittered like a rattlesnake's.
"Check," crowed the Regent.
"Checkmate," Dylan responded calmly.
The Regent bared sharp teeth. "You have kidnapped a citizen of my domain," he sounded affronted.
"You tried to kill him ... and my crew." Dylan glared at the viewscreen, menacingly. "I don't ... like ... that," he pronounced each word crisply.
"It's a local matter," the Regent purred. "None of your concern."
"So, stop the slaughter. Leave the child, leave all of the children alone. Live and let live."
The Regent waved skeletal fingers in front of his face. "Everyone dies. My family will rule forever."
Dylan scowled. "Your basic premise is wrong." He waited for the words to sink in, leaning forward and watching the Regent closely. The man perked up, a sneer turning up one corner of his large mouth and a skeptical glimmer in his beady eyes. "The boy isn't destined to take over your rule. He's not taking anything from you. His fate is much more important than this minor little outer rim system."
The Regent's sneer faltered. The ramifications of Dylan's words showed clearly in the widening of his eyes until the irises floated in a sea of white. "But ... nonsense! There is nothing larger to rule."
Dylan raised his eyebrows and said nothing. The Regent clearly realized he meant the new Commonwealth, a trans-galactic Empire.
Emotions raced across the Regent's gray face. Abruptly, he straightened in his seat, slowly brushing a hand down the front of his ceremonial tunic with practiced calm. He spoke in harsh, clipped tones, "You have lost our system, Captain Hunt. Your new Commonwealth shall fail. We'll fight you with each breath."
"So be it."
"We have allies spread like insects across the three galaxies. You will regret this."
"When the Magog Worldship arrives you'll be alone."
One corner of the Regent's mouth turned up mockingly. "Don't be so naive, Captain. Should that eventuality arise, your Commonwealth would hardly sacrifice innocents to the slaughter."
Dylan's eyes narrowed. "You're far from innocent!" he snapped. "Enjoy your rule, Regent Fortnoy. I figure you have about fifteen years left." Dylan turned his back to the viewscreen and didn't see the Regent bristle at the insult just before Andromeda cut the connection. The star field glimmered peacefully on the screen.
"Mr. Charming," Beka quipped.
"There is a power surge in the Soltan weaponry. They are opening fire. Incoming," Andromeda intoned.
"Beka, slipstream!" Dylan barked.
Gritting her teeth, Beka plunged the ship into slipstream, leaving the fuming aliens far behind, their laser beams impotent in unoccupied space.
Andromeda's hologram materialized beside Dylan. "What about the prisoners?" she asked.
"Find a small, non-hostile planet nearby. Drop them off." And good riddance, he thought.
^j^
Trance's eyes widened in wonder at the sight of the planet below them. She rocked the sleeping baby, his cherubic cheek pressed into the hollow of her shoulder. The planet seemed green and peaceful. Gray and white cumulous clouds formed a lacy blanket over much of the landmass.
"Wow," she whispered, "look how small the icy poles are. And so much green. It must be beautiful."
"Miserably hot ... and sticky," Tyr groused from the weapons station.
Rev piloted through a hole in the cloud cover. The Maru bounced with light turbulence.
"Mm," he noted, "to the North I believe." He pointed with one curved fingertip claw toward far-off mountains, shrouded in a purple haze.
The Maru arched gracefully through the clear air to skim along the canopy of treetops. Resembling a huge green carpet, the treetops were dotted with flowers in colors both familiar and unique.
The mountains loomed high in the front viewport, rocky and crisscrossed with pink and red vegetation.
"Rev, this Wayist temple of yours, it's in the mountains?" Tyr asked.
"The temple is one with the mountain range, I'm told. Both outside in the forests and burrowed into the very mountains themselves."
"You do know how to get in, don't you?"
"In theory."
Trance and Tyr both gave him a long-suffering look.
It took fifteen minutes of searching to find a clearing big enough to land.
"We've got a short hike ahead of us," Rev Bem said.
"How far?" she asked, rocking the baby back and forth. She held him close, abruptly aware of how attached she was to him. He was so small, so defenseless. He had such a hard life ahead of him. She blinked back tears and buried her nose in his smattering of hair. She inhaled and let the intoxicating scent of baby relax her. She would have to let him go. She couldn't derail the future by changing his life from the path it was now on.
"Perhaps five miles."
"A morning stroll." Tyr draped his pulse rifle and harness over his shoulders. Being armed was instinctive to him.
"Do you really need that?" she queried.
"The most innocent appearances often harbor the most secrets and the most dangers." Tyr stared at her for so long that she squirmed uncomfortably.
"But the priests wouldn't live somewhere like that, would they?" Trance asked as she followed the two males down the metal ramp to the grass. The overpowering aroma of strong scented plants and wet soil hit them like thick soup as they descended to the high spidery grass. It waved in a ghost of a breeze, leaving tiny wet lines on their legs.
Tyr frowned. "Muggy, hot ... miserable."
She breathed deeply, swaying dizzily as the heady scent soaked into her lungs. Insects buzzed a song loud enough to make their ears ring. Trance's violet face lit up with joy. "Pretty," she murmured, thinking how happy the boy should be here. Staring at the treetops high above them, she stumbled over a tree root jutting up from the spongy earth. Tyr and Rev Bem wove through the underbrush ahead of her. Light filtered through the high canopy of leaves, making tiny circles of light dance on the forest floor of soft, slowly rotting leaves. She smiled. The blanket of leaves was spongy beneath her boots. She peered into the deep shadows as they passed and started as an unseen animal skittered away.
"It's said there are no large animals on this planet," Rev told them over his shoulder.
"What do the Wayists eat, then?" she called.
"Fish, vegetables. They are mainly vegetarian here. Ah, the entrance should be up there."
She stopped beside Rev. They stood at the edge of the very tall trees in a clearing near the base of a mountain. Before them the terrain became more rocky, sloping upward at a sharp angle. Large cup-like pale pink, orange and red plants dotted the slope. Long tendrils draped from inside the cups. Flowers in bright purples and blues carpeted the areas between the rocks and large plants.
Rev Bem led the way. "We shall have to walk on the flowers, I'm afraid."
Tyr stopped walking. "That cannot be the correct path." The other two gave him questioning looks. "I refuse to believe that Wayists never leave the complex nor that they'd be willing to trample flowers each time they came into the sun. There must be another path." He studied the hillside sprawled before them. "There, at that end of the clearing there are more rocks, fewer flowers."
"The Divine may have shown you the true path. Lead on."
Tyr led them up the mountainside toward the spot Rev Bem had indicated earlier. The terrain was rocky, easy for Tyr to traverse, but Trance stumbled often, clutching the infant who clung to her. The two males outdistanced her quickly, concentrating on their own ascent. Trance slipped on a mossy rock, fell and caught herself with one hand. She sat down, her shoulders throbbing from carrying the child for so long. The baby began to cry.
"Hush now. Shh, Little One. It's okay," she crooned, smoothing his thin hair and smiling at him.
Behind her was a cup-shaped pink plant. Its skin and leaves so pale they almost looked flesh-like. A brighter pink tendril, draped over the side and lying amongst the rocks and flowers, twitched, moved, slithered toward her body heat and movement. She wiped the tears from the infant's rosy cheeks as his crying slowly subsided into hiccups. She laughed softly, tickling him.
He giggled.
Tyr and Rev Bem paused on an outcropping above them.
The plant tendril, drawn inexorably to her, snaked under the blossoms and moss toward her.
"Are you okay?" Rev Bem called.
"Yes. We'll be right up." Trance brushed the sweat from her forehead, shifted the baby to a more comfortable position, stood and took two steps.
The plant tendril shot out with the speed of a viper, wrapped around her ankle, squeezed and yanked. Trance shrieked. She fell. Flowers covered her nose and mouth. She struggled to hold the baby away from her. She choked, gagged. The tendril dragged her toward the main body of the plant. She fought for air. Sharp thorns and pebbles scratched her skin, leaving a thin trail of plum blood behind. Her foot and ankle burned with searing pain. The baby's wails were deafening. Trance kicked and thrashed.
TBC in ch 9, the last one!
