Chapter Seventeen
Caine injected water into the rehydration port of the three-hundred-gram Dornaani ration and watched the packet balloon as though it might explode.
The others stared as their own meal packs underwent similar transformations. When the seams were taut and expansion tapered, Dora muttered, “How long do we wait? I’m hungry.”
Newton’s reply was flat. “Three minutes. Be careful when you open it.”
“Why?”
Duncan answered as he poked his ration tentatively. “The exothermic heating core makes it pretty hot.”
Yaargraukh, the only one without a ration in front of him, reached into his musette bag. “I prefer the local food.” He produced a thick, almost conical tuber that Caine had sampled on the march to Newton’s camp and had mentally nicknamed “the bitter potato.”
Bannor stared sidelong at him. “I only finished mine yesterday because I didn’t want to insult our friends.” He shifted his eyes momentarily toward the five h’achgai busy with their own supper, ten meters further down what they all called “the trench line” of Newton’s camp.
Yaargraukh’s wormlike tongue flitted out for a moment. “Then clearly you have not tried their sea leaves, yet.”
Bannor shuddered; several others had similar, involuntary motions. “Makes the tubers taste great, by comparison.”
Caine shrugged but could not disagree. The freshwater weeds had to be soaked in brine for days to leach out chemicals that made them painfully indigestible. However, they remained edible even longer than the tubers and were—reportedly—far more palatable when combined with other foodstuffs. “We’re lucky we can eat anything on this planet,” he observed. “Ten days ago, we didn’t even know we’d be able to breathe.”
“Yeah,” Dora replied, “but that doesn’t make dinner taste any better!” She frowned mightily at the faces around her . . . before smiling through a sharp laugh.
Riordan smiled. It was never entirely clear when Pandora Veriden was being genuinely crabby or when it was an act. He suspected that she wasn’t always sure herself. “I’m just glad that we haven’t needed to use the emergency rations until now.”
“For which I will be the expendable taster,” Duncan announced as he opened his swollen ration packet. A puff of steam burst out. The aroma was not like any that Riordan knew from terrestrial kitchens but was still moderately appetizing. The others did the same and there was relative silence as they sampled the contents. The only reactions were a few relieved sighs; it wasn’t home cooking, but it was entirely acceptable. Unfortunately, they were too useful to consume except at need. “Hopefully, we won’t need to use many more of these,” Caine added.
Ayana nodded as new sighs—this time, of regret—answered Riordan’s reminder. “Once we enter the city, acquiring local food must be the first order of business,” she agreed. “As soon as we have found safe lodgings, of course.” She glanced sideways at Caine. “Arashk has made a suitable recommendation, I understand?”
“He has. He’s confident that we’ll be welcome there.”
“Then why won’t he come with us?” Dora asked suspiciously. “And why are all the h’achgai sitting over there, having their own private conversation?”
Riordan shrugged. “Because they’ve got to make the same decision we do: whether it’s best to enter the city together with us or on their own. And, like us, that could involve considerations that might be confidential. Or unflattering.”
Bannor frowned. “As in, they don’t really trust us?”
Caine shook his head. “They’re past that, now, I think. But it could mean trouble for them if we arrive together. Given our gear, the local assumption will be that they are our servitors. If so, then they could get targeted along with us, if any of the local lords believe us to be a bunch of roving harrows or scythes.”
Duncan held up a pausing palm. “Sir, can we back up? That’s the second time you’ve used those two terms. Maybe other folks know what they mean, but I haven’t heard them before.” Heads in the circle nodded.
Riordan did not try to keep the rue out of his answering smile. “Sorry, all: I’m losing track of what Yaargraukh and I have relayed and what we haven’t. Scythes are shock troops and personal guards of the local lords. Harrows are their commanders. They’re collectively referred to as reapers, sometimes. But they are always furnished with the best weapons and armor.”
“And evidently other technologically sophisticated devices,” Yaargraukh added, “but we cannot be sure what kinds. The h’achgai still use many words for which the translator has not been able to assign equivalents.”
Bannor nodded. “So Arashk and Company took one look at your kits and figured that’s what you were: harrows or scythes.”
“Yes, but it was not merely our equipment which led them to that conclusion. Both our respective species are common in reaper groups.”
Bannor stared at Yaargraukh. “The locals: they know about Hkh’Rkh?”
Caine nodded. “Either that, or Hkh’Rkh look very much like this world’s apex predators: the x’qai.”
Dora’s brow furrowed. “You mean those things you guys”—she gestured toward Bannor and Duncan—“killed just south of here? He doesn’t look a bit like either of them.”
Yaargraukh pony-nodded. “Apparently, there are many different kinds of x’qai. Apparently, I resemble one of the more fearsome, if rare, varieties. Which further confused the h’achgai.”
“You mean, that you were out in the wastes alone except for the commodore?”
“No, I mean they initially assumed that I was the leader.” Good-natured grins sprung up around the group until it dawned upon them that Yaargraukh was speaking in earnest. “That was why they did not make a closer approach when they first detected me. Apparently this variety of x’qai is not only very dangerous, but frequently, very influential. The h’achgai became even more intrigued, and cautious, after discovering that I had met and begun traveling with a lone human. Journeying alone in the wastes is considered extremely hazardous. Even the most powerful harrows are unlikely to do so without a sizable detachment of servitors.”
“So,” Ayana mused, “they deemed you the stronger, and so, the leader.”
“The h’achgai are refreshing in their perspicacity,” Yaargraukh agreed blithely. The tip of his black garter-snake tongue poked out so briefly that a fast blink would have missed it.
Caine stopped grinning to add, “So when we arrived here, and they saw all of you in roughly the same equipment, they became even more certain that we were harrows and scythes. Despite the apparent contradictions.”
“Such as the way we treat them as equals?” Ayana ventured.
“That and our lack of a standard or symbol.” Riordan paused. “At least, until they saw those,” he added, pointing at the vacc and duty suits worn by Newton, Duncan, and Dora. All were Terran, the four-pointed star of the CTR emblazoned over the heart.
“Oops,” Dora murmured.
Caine laughed. “Actually, I think it put them at ease. They were unnerved by the idea of this many ‘lordless’ harrows and scythes wandering around the wastes.”
Bannor frowned. “Still, I think we need to cover those insignias when we enter town. They could lead to some difficult questions, particularly if the Ktor are here or drop by. For now, I say we stay under the radar as much as possible.”
“Concur,” Caine said. “Although, I think they’re realizing that, symbol or no, we’re not anyone’s household troops. At the same time, we’re not a bunch of loose cannons. But that makes us even more dangerous.”
Duncan nodded. “Because we’re a complete unknown. Even rogue reapers fit into a pattern, of sorts.”
“Which is why,” Caine concluded, “I think the smartest move is for the h’achgai to enter the city a day or two after us and from a different direction. In the meantime, Arashk used my monoscope to point out the place he recommended to us. It’s pretty formidable. Built up from the remains of an old ruin, I think.”
“And who is this potential benefactor?” Newton asked dubiously.
“His title, as best I can translate it, is the Advocate or Defender or Legate. Arashk believes we’ll be allowed into his citadel with minimal difficulty.”
Ayana’s voice sounded almost as doubtful as Newton’s. “How can Arashk be so certain?”
“Because, like him, we are humans who do not serve x’qai.”
Duncan was frowning. “Okay, but even if we can get in, how can we be sure this Legate won’t betray us?”
Caine shrugged. “Arashk swore to it in front of Hresh, who has dedicated himself to the path of a chogrun: a h’achgai oathkeeper.”
Duncan rubbed his nose. “Sir, that still adds up to the h’achgai saying, ‘You can trust us because we told you so ourselves’ . . . doesn’t it?”
“No,” Yaargraukh answered in a quiet voice. “It does not. Not among beings who must live out on such wastes.” His black-marble eyes swiveled on their stalks, shifting from one face to the next. “Oaths are crucial for groups to continue to exist in such dangerous places and with such perilous foes. They are not easily made or given, which is why the rest of the h’achgai were visibly surprised when Arashk pledged the truth of his words by formally asking Hresh to witness them. It was not a scene crafted to deceive us.”
Bannor nodded. “I agree. I’m sure they could be crafty if they wanted, but that’s not the way they’ve been acting. Besides, I’ve noticed that they never speak of having lords over them. Arashk may be their leader—dregdo, is it?—but every time they speak of their tribes, or clans, or whatever, the word they keep using is dregdir: a group or council.” He frowned. “Every other power center they mention—except humans—seems to be organized as hierarchies. With pretty brutal pecking orders, I might add.”
Ayana nodded. “I think this is true.” She turned to Riordan. “So, if we are asked about our business when in the city, what shall we say?”
“Firstly,” he answered with a smile, “it’s best if you let me and Yaargraukh do the talking. We’ve had five days with the translator and tutors. Secondly, Arashk recommends that if we’re asked, we just say we’re going to meet the Advocate or Legate. It’s the most logical destination for a group of humans who are not showing an allegiance symbol, have no servitors, but still have harrow-level equipment.”
“And what if we’re stopped by x’qai?” Dora asked, arms crossed. “They sound like their motto is ‘kill first, talk later.’ Assuming they talk.”
“And not all of them do,” Yaargraukh replied with a slow rotation of his neck. “But according to the h’achgai, their impatience and combativeness means that they are rarely given the duties of sentries, guards, or patrols. If we see them in the streets at all, we should treat them as we would any other warriors moving from one location to another: give them a wide berth. Even if they desire a confrontation, their leaders will not permit it.”
Dora nodded. “Fair enough. But how do we even know which beings are x’qai? The two you showed us out there”—she waved toward the site of Bannor and Duncan’s engagement—“don’t look anything alike. Madre de Dios, one of them looked like it was half warthog! And now you say that there are ones that look like you? If we don’t know all the kinds, then how do we know to avoid them?”
Caine put aside his meal. “Most of them shed very little IR through their skin, probably because it’s so thick. And no, let’s not try to puzzle through the metabolic implications just now. The other thing is that if a creature has sex organs—I’m not talking about sex characteristics but actual organs—it is not a x’qao.”
“Then how do they reproduce?” Duncan asked.
“By depositing their young, or eggs, or whatever, in live hosts,” Newton answered in a very calm voice. “I suspect this is why the h’achgai’s own word for them translates as ‘killspawn.’
“I had little opportunity to examine the remains of the two you killed, but in place of gonads, they had what looked like ovipositors. The one with the resemblance to an entelodont was already being consumed by other, smaller insects that had apparently lived on or in its body. Symbiotic and, or, parasitic, interactions may be fundamental among the xenobiota of this world.”
The other humans in the group looked mildly revolted or nauseated by Baruch’s conjecture. Yaargraukh, however, tilted his head in curiosity. “I have never heard the word entelodont. What is it?”
“It is a pre-Pleistocene megafauna species that is the ancestor of modern swine.”
Even Yaargraukh stared at Newton, now.
He stared back. “I was captivated by prehistoric animals when I was young.” His stare became a glare. “Is that so unusual?”
“Not at all,” Caine assured him, but failed to add, It’s just hard to imagine that you were ever a little kid who loved dinosaurs and mastodons.
Duncan broke the silence before it went from being uncomfortable to embarrassing. “So what have the h’achgai told you about—uh, they call it Forkus?” He gestured to the sprawl that clung low to the northern horizon.
Caine nodded. “They say it’s typical of most cities here; everything is orchestrated around food. Growing it, moving it, distributing it, storing it. It sounds like a barter economy where a single day’s worth of food is the coin of the realm.”
Bannor stared at the sere lands around them. “I can see why.”
Caine nodded. “There are some seasonal caravans, funded by lords, that haul finished goods and high-value items. But the majority of the trade—food, hides, basic resources—is carried by smaller trade groups which depend on porters and smaller draft animals. The h’achgai don’t live in the cities, but move smaller volumes of rarer goods between them. They’re also prospectors.”
Dora looked up quickly. “You mean, they look for ore?”
“That or things left behind in ruins. I didn’t understand most of what they were trying to explain, but one look at the city through the monoscope shows this planet had at least an industrial-era civilization.”
“So they might be salvaging metal, too.”
Riordan nodded. “You’ve seen the city: a core of larger buildings built up from or atop advanced ruins, surrounded by what looks like a single-story adobe sprawl. Arashk said that, the taller the building, the more powerful the lord, particularly if the upper stories have been turned into water towers.”
“Okay,” Dora continued, “so let’s say this Advocate or Legate is willing to take us in. That doesn’t mean we get to stay for free. So how do we pay him? What do we have to trade?”
Duncan rubbed his nose again. “That’s what the commodore tasked me to determine. Bottom line: we’ve been using damn near everything we dropped with. The only things we haven’t touched are the emergency rebreathers, the spare filters, and the backup Dornaani air tanks. Unless you want to trade away your spare boots? Or maybe your kits’ dietary and performance supplements, along with the broad-spectrum antibiotics and antivirals?” The reactions were as emphatic as they were negative.
“So, in point of fact,” Newton summarized drily, “we are simply very dangerous paupers.” He seemed gratified by the answering chuckles. “Duncan, it sounds to me like you have done this before.”
“You mean being a bean counter?” Solsohn sighed. “Yeah, logistics and supply always fell to me on operations. Partly because I can remember the stats without taking notes, but also because that’s the kind of job you get when you’re not on an entry team.”
Yaargraukh’s eyes swiveled toward him. “What was your role?”
Duncan’s tone was muted, evasive. “Standoff support.”
Dora almost sneered. “He was a sniper. Didn’t you know?”
“I did not.” The Hkh’Rkh sounded perplexed. “Why did you not volunteer that information? It is a great asset.”
Solsohn didn’t meet any of the human eyes in the supper circle. “Well, there’s a lot of prejudice against that specialization.” He glanced at Dora. “Hell, even assassins hate you.”
Veriden’s eyes narrowed even as they brightened. Her mouth worked for a moment. Then she looked away, unable to deny the frank truth of his statement.
Bannor nodded. “Yeah, a lot of soldiers even have mixed feelings about their own snipers. At least until someone, or maybe the whole unit, owes their life to that guardian angel looking down a scope a klick or more away.”
Riordan shrugged. “And now, such nice distinctions are as far behind us as Earth and all its civilized attitudes. As Yaargraukh said, every skill, every asset is a gift.”
Duncan glanced at Caine. “So, speaking about assets: since we don’t have any goods to trade, what about services?”
Veriden sat bolt upright. “And get embroiled in turf wars before we even know who’s who?”
Duncan returned her wide-eyed stare with a gaze of exaggerated patience. “Information and education are services, too, you know.”
Caine put up his palm. “Let’s cross those bridges when we come to them. Knowledge may prove to be our best trade option, but until we know more about what locals would want and what they might do with it, we can’t determine what’s safe to share and what isn’t.” He looked around the group; everyone had finished their meal. “Anything else before we break into watches?”
The silence that answered was tense, rather than settled.
Dora sighed. “Well, someone has to say it, so it might as well be me: this is our last chance to change our plans and go after Frog-pe—uh, Eku. Once we show our faces in the city, we’ll be known and probably followed.”
Riordan nodded and understood Veriden’s searching gaze. Only four hours earlier, Eku’s biosigns had gone dark. Losing him was unacceptable. So was losing all the evidence against Hsontlosh, since he was the only one who had any hope of getting through the traitorous loji’s firewalls.
But the importance of those records was part of some unforeseeable—and likely unattainable—future in which they returned home. Right now, all that mattered was the Crewe: keeping it alive, unified, and together. Which is why the answer Caine had to give was also the hardest: “No. We keep to the plan.” Dora’s and Newton’s mouths were both opening to protest as he added, “For the past two days, Eku’s transponder has been moving east on the river: not beside it, but on it. It’s the only way his transponder could move seventy kilometers during every twelve hours of daylight, particularly when you consider his injuries.”
“To which he might have succumbed,” Newton murmured.
“Doctor Baruch, like me, you saw his biosigns before they winked out. Tell us what you observed.”
Newton didn’t look away, but his eyes wavered. “They were fundamentally normative. Frankly, they’d been improving. Probably because he was no longer moving on foot.”
“So what might lead to the sudden loss of signs?”
“Removing the suit or death.”
“Let’s stay on that second alternative. What kind of death would terminate the biosigns so suddenly?”
Newton shrugged. “Decapitation. Perhaps.”
Bannor leaned forward. “What do you mean, ‘perhaps’?”
Baruch sighed reluctantly. “Even decapitation does not cause an immediate termination of biosigns. What’s more, the first few moments after a terminal trauma such as beheading would precipitate dire and profoundly erratic readings.”
Dora looked at Caine, eyes wide. “So you believe that Eku is—?”
Caine dropped his hand like a headsman’s axe. “I don’t believe anything at this point, because we don’t have any real information beyond the fact that his suit’s transponder is still working and moving.
“But it is highly unlikely that, after finally getting him on a boat, Eku’s captors would then kill him out of hand after expending all the effort and resources it took to keep him alive. Hell: they never made more than twenty klicks a day overland. But now that they’re getting close to the first market where they could trade him, they decide to get rid of him? No: that doesn’t make sense.”
Dora was nodding slowly. “The market where they might trade him: you mean Forkus?”
Riordan nodded, let the information sink in as he looked into every pair of eyes in the circle, human or otherwise. “Since Peter’s group has working suits, and is already a day into the same downstream trip that Eku’s taking, they surely see what we are: that he’s coming to the very point upon which our two groups are converging.”
“It’ll be a wait,” Duncan pointed out. “Peter and Company still have a long stretch of river ahead of them.”
“That, also, is to our advantage,” Yaargraukh rumbled in a satisfied tone. “We are not yet in readiness. By the time they arrive, we shall be.”
Riordan nodded, pointed toward the faint firelight flickering around the greater structures in the distant city. “Everything we’ll need to rescue him—information, supplies, contacts—is in there.”
“Contacts?” Ayana repeated. “Do you feel it safe to include indigenous beings in such an operation?”
Caine shrugged. “If we can surreptitiously reestablish communications with Arashk once we’re in the city, then yes, it might be safe if he’s willing to vet those contacts for us. Or maybe the Advocate or Legate can help with them. Either way, I like that option more than trying to find and rescue him without local intel.”
Duncan nodded. “Whether Eku’s captors mean to trade him in Forkus or beyond, we won’t be able to make a move without being seen a mile away. So if we don’t have locals fronting for us, the opposition will either move Eku or be waiting to slaughter us.”
Bannor was nodding agreement. “That raises a good question: What are the odds that Eku’s captors actually stop here?”
Riordan leaned forward. “I put that same question to Arashk just before we sat down to dinner. He thinks it’s a near certainty, even if it this city is only a transfer point on the way to a farther destination.”
“Why?”
“Because, given his gear, Eku is either a scythe himself, a minion, or a thief who made off with the equipment. Whoever found him knew that right away, and a second later, realized that merely keeping him around was a high-risk, high-gain proposition. What if his harrow caught up to him? What if the scythes or x’qai of a rival lord hear and get to him first? Besides, anyone who sees his gear will know he’s worth his weight in guns. Or gold. Or blood. So if he’s too dangerous to keep for long, his captors would be fools not to make best speed to a place where they can trade him out quickly.”
“Forkus,” Duncan finished.
Dora nodded. “And you can bet that since the bastards holding Eku headed straight for the river, they already have a buyer, or at least a market, in mind. And one they can deal with at arm’s length.”
Newton frowned. “Why?”
Dora smiled. “Because if you aren’t strong enough to hang on to a black-market diamond yourself, you can’t risk setting up a trade with the final client. Like as not, all they’d give you is a sincere ‘thank you’ . . . just after they take it from your dead hand. That’s why smaller gangs can’t sell direct to big bosses. They have to use a fence or go through a boss that’s stronger than them, but not so strong that they could hold on to the diamond, either.”
Riordan smiled. “Sounds like you just finished answering your own question about mounting a direct rescue mission, Dora.”
She shook her head. “Never said it was my preference. Just that we had to settle the matter before we go to Forkus. Because once we’re in there, who knows what will happen?”
Riordan nodded. “True enough. So let’s be ready for it. First watch up. Everybody else, grab as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow’s going to be full of unknowns, so it’s likely to be a long day.”
Or possibly, Riordan worried as he smiled fondly at the others, our last.