She stared out over the green of the forest, studying the shape of the ship hovering over the huge city in the distance. She'd seen that ship before, in some specs or another sent to her within the last few years. It had seemed to be such an awkward shape that many of the other First Warriors had wondered why the Hissarsi would choose that shape for their ships. Of course, there had also been much wondering about why they were wearing such odd skin coverings as well.
Now she knew why. Human disguises, an attempt to fool the humans into thinking they were a similar species. Did the humans even know that the Hissarsi were in reality a reptilian species? She looked over her shoulder at the sound of the vehicle driving away and suspected they did. Or, at least, some of them did. But why were the Hissarsi here? She had tried to find the answers in the Hissarsi computer she'd found but everything was encrypted and under layers of security. Her kind had never been proficient with computers but she'd have to try to get more information, if only to ease her own mind.
First she'd have to get a power source for the computer. And maybe re-read all that information on the Hissarsi activities that had been sent to her over the past few years. She hadn't read it as thoroughly as she should have. The answers could very well be there.
With that thought, she returned home.
Martin stepped down from the shuttle, looking around the destroyed camp impassively. Every building had been destroyed and some were still burning. A couple groups of Visitor workers were trying to put the fires out. He paused, almost doing a double-take when he saw his cousin, Giselle, among them then he remembered that she doubled as a disaster technician. He looked around for Claudius.
His uncle was standing by one of the destroyed buildings, talking with Steven. Claudius' son and personal aide, Julian, was nearby, taking inventory of the damage and punching it into a portable computer. None of them look too happy.
The two men broke off their conversation at his approach and Steven looked pointedly around.
"Diana not bothering to come down?"
"She thought that you'd have everything under control." Martin said. "This time, at least."
Steven glowered at this oblique reference to Juliet Parrish's rescue. "Of course." He said, through what Martin guessed were clenched teeth. He turned back to Claudius. "I'll expect a more detailed report when you return to the mothership." Steven turned and walked away, leaving Claudius glaring daggers at his back.
Once Steven's shuttle had left, leaving behind a token squad of troopers and the disaster technicians, Martin took another more detailed look at the damage.
"It won't be rebuilt I take it."
"No. Not worth the effort." Claudius snapped then he pulled himself together with an obvious effort. "We may choose a different location and try again."
Martin nodded absently, making sure they could not be overheard before continuing. "There are rumors …" He started in a low voice.
"There are always rumors." Claudius said irritably and Martin threw him an angry look. Claudius had been recommended by John to come to LA and run this showcase camp, a move that had, at first, made Martin happy. Not only was Claudius family but he was a member of the Fifth Column, working to undermine the Leader's plans for this planet and its people. And he had brought not only his son, Julian, along but Giselle, a distant cousin he had never met before. But Claudius, he was finding, had his own way of doing things.
"They say there was a human prisoner here." Martin said curtly and Claudius threw him a look that made him feel as if he hadn't even reached his first molt yet.
"That is what this camp is for, Martin." He started to turn away.
"Not yet it's not." Martin snapped. Claudius looked at him, obviously surprised. "And it isn't for the torture of humans! Even in Diana's plans, it wasn't." Which was true. Diana had wanted the camp to be a place where select families of scientists would be held prisoner with no threats and no abuse and where inmates would be made available for interviews.
Claudius' face tightened and he looked hurriedly over at the others working nearby. Wordlessly he drew Martin toward the privacy of the woods, Julian trailing along behind.
"And you believe I would torture a human?" Claudius asked curtly once they were out of earshot of the others.
"Too many people talk about it. They say …" Martin's foot struck something hard and he bit back a curse, looking downward. He paused, studying what he had kicked. "They say that you had him crucified and left to die." Reaching down, he pulled the brush away from the wooden beams tied into a cross, looking at the red blood staining it then up at his uncle, his eyes furious. Julian, standing behind Claudius, looked dumbfounded and maybe a little sick.
Claudius simply looked at him. "Once the human was captured, I couldn't simply let him go. The others in the camp would have wondered."
Martin could understand that part; there were very few Fifth Columnists among the troops. "You could have simply held him prisoner. Or found a way to remove him from the camp. Or even simply killed him. There was no need to torture him." He said coldly.
Claudius wavered then sighed. "I needed some answers from him." He finally admitted.
"About what?"
"Martin, not all humans are on the side of the Resistance just as not all of our people are on the Leader's side. Sometimes we need to get information from these humans." Claudius said evasively.
Martin frowned. "What kind of information?" He pressed.
Claudius obviously didn't like being questioned, especially by someone so much his junior but Martin was the ranking officer in the Fifth Column. His benign look became a glower.
"How did the cross get out here?" Julian asked suddenly.
"What?" Martin said, startled.
"How did the cross get here? There's no drag marks, no footprints … so how'd it get out here?"
Martin followed his eyes, his frown deepening. Julian was right, there was no evidence of the cross being carried into the woods.
"The Kirien threw it." Giselle said almost at Martin's elbow and he jumped. "They're inclined to do things like that, when they're angry."
Martin looked down at her and she looked back with a wide-eyed innocence that was, for some reason, unnerving. Short and slender with short, tousled black hair and wide greenish-yellow eyes, she sometimes reminded him of a member of what some humans referred as 'the little people'. What was the word he was looking for? Oh, right. Pixyish. like something that had stepped full-blown out of a human fairy tale.
"What Kirien?" Claudius said sharply, shooting a quick look at Martin. "What are you talking about?"
"There was a Kirien here, wasn't there? At least everyone says so." Claudius started to snap out a sharp admonishment but Giselle cut him off sweetly. "Not to mention that her hoof prints are everywhere." She blinked in obvious puzzlement. "What would a Kirien be doing here?"
"Good question." Martin said curtly. He had initially dismissed the rumors of a Kirien on Earth, not able to think why one would be here. "Claudius?"
Claudius swallowed, glaring at the girl. When he spoke, it sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth. "The human wore an old, well-worn Trinity medallion. Carved of ivory."
Martin rocked back on his heels, surprised. "Kirien ivory?"
Claudius made an impatient gesture. "Or Rathorn. It hardly matters. He said he found it."
Martin's mind raced. What would a Trinity medallion, especially one carved from Kirien or Rathorn ivory, be doing on Earth? They were prized possessions, passed down through the generations. "And you were torturing him to discover where he had gotten it." He threw his uncle a disgusted look. "If it was old and well-worn then he probably did just find it. Most likely a ship crashed here centuries ago, maybe millennium ago."
"It could be important. If other species have contact with Earth …"
"They could come help the humans!" Giselle said brightly.
Claudius threw her a dark look. "There are some species we don't want helping the humans."
"But surely the Kirien …"
"The Kirien are born meddlers. They may help the humans but at our expense." Claudius said curtly before turning back to Martin. "None of which matters right now. The human is gone. The Kirien is gone. She obviously took him with her."
"Why?" Martin said impatiently.
"How should I know?" Claudius said irritably. "Maybe she wanted a snack."
"The Kirien don't eat sentient beings." Martin said curtly. Which, he reflected bitterly, made them better than his own people. He turned and looked back to the camp. "She didn't destroy the camp."
"No." Claudius admitted. "Most likely there were humans waiting for chance to destroy it and when we left, they took it." Claudius threw Martin a quick look. "Did your contact with the Resistance say anything about attacking this camp?"
Martin frowned. He knew his uncle wanted him to stay in closer contact with the LA Resistance, had even hinted that maybe the group should keep the Fifth Column notified of their raids so that they could make sure none of their fellow Fifth Columnists would be harmed. At first, the idea had appealed to many members of the Fifth Column, most of who had lost friends and family in unexpected raids. That feeling had lasted until Giselle had innocently asked if that meant they would be keeping the LA Resistance informed of sweeps done by the troopers so they could get their friends and family removed from threatened towns, an almost impossible task. Luckily, the majority of the Fifth Columnists had seen the futility and danger of trying to keep each other informed and the proposal had been dropped.
"No." Martin said. "But then he doesn't let me know their every move. I don't want to know their every move." He added sternly, a reminder of their decision. "The problem now is what happens if they find out that a human was captured and tortured by a member of the Fifth Column." The last bit came out from between gritted teeth.
Claudius flicked a hand irritably. "It's doubtful they'll ever find out about it. If they do, tell them that he was a collaborator. Which he very well could have been. Especially since the majority of humans are collaborators, if only in their passivity." There was a sneer in the older man's voice and Martin swallowed a terse reminder that the majority of their own people acted the same way. A movement caught his eye and he stepped to one side to get a better look through the branches.
"I think Gregory wants you."
Claudius looked back into the camp to see that leader of the trooper squad was indeed searching for him. With a grumbled curse, he stalked toward him. Julian, after another sick look at the cross, followed. Before Martin could move, Giselle tugged at his sleeve.
"He's lying." She said quietly. "Of maybe he really thinks he's telling the truth. The Kirien didn't take the human from the planet."
"How do you know?" Martin asked sharply.
"Because the Kirien's hoof prints are all though the camp. More importantly, her hoof prints go back and forth from where a truck was parked. She helped to pack a truck. Besides, she would know that trying to take a wounded human back home would undoubtedly kill him."
"How would you know that?"
Giselle meet his eyes without flinching and with the barest of a smile. "Because I'm a Merchant's brat, remember?" She said without rancor then she was slipping past him and back into the camp.
Martin winced at her wording. 'Merchant's brat' was an insult that he himself had once used, back when he still believe that those who dealt with other species were the lowest of the low, pariahs among their own people. Back then, he'd been so sure of it that he had never noticed that those pariahs were in reality the freest of their people, able to travel where they wished.
Martin strolled back into the camp, studying the ground. Sure enough, there were Kirien hoof prints throughout the camp, easily recognizable by the symbols carved into the hard ivory hooves. And they were everywhere. After a moment, he straightened, frowning. Claudius was right, the Kirien were notorious meddlers. Of course, having them meddle on the humans' side could be a good thing. For the humans, that is.
What it meant for the Visitors, Loyalists or Fifth Columnists, he could only guess at.
Giselle drifted back though the camp, ignoring the supervisor's call. She was, after all, on her break. She paused at one of the clearest of the hoof prints and crouched, studying it with a faint smile. Unlike the others, she could read the symbols imprinted in the dirt. They had been carved into the hoof in such a way so that, when the bearer walked, the symbols were stamped correctly into the walking surface. And she could read this one very clearly.
Darkness Rising, First Warrior of Rathorn, Sister to Hellspawn.
She scattered the print with a sweep of her hand and smiled. This was going to make life very interesting.