Koban: The Mark of Koban (63 page)

Sold!
Reynolds thought.
Now he’s worried we can
put his army to sleep.

“I told you, I’m a simple soldier, not one of our
scientists. I don’t know that answer. But I will try to help you find the
answer if you let me live.”

Pendor considered this only a second or two, nevertheless a
deeper reflection that was usual for a Krall. He tapped his shoulder com unit,
and deployed one ear on that side. He spoke in the silent lip wriggle they
used.

Reynolds wished he had one of the newly developed ultrasonic
ear inserts, which could lower high Krall speech frequencies down to human
range. Except, he remembered thigh Krall was effectively a different language,
and he had little mastery of low Krall as it was. He guessed the topic of
conversation partly involved him, with a revealing result coming soon, possibly
in some unpleasant manner.

When Toltak entered, along with several warriors of high
rank based on their tattoos, Reynolds spirits took a nosedive. Her last request
was to make him pay with his life for the insults he’d given her in the last
week. He’d wanted a mercifully swift death then, only just now, with Pendor,
he’d thought he’d arranged a stay of execution and continued good health.

Her expression when she entered also seemed anticipatory,
although murderous anger at him was nearly the only expression Reynolds had
seen on her. When it dissolved into clear confusion and then disgust, it was
obvious Pendor was exacting a price from her previous disrespect for the new
Gatlek. He then deliberately spoke to her in low Krall, so that the human, used
as the means of delivering her penance, could understand what Pendor ordered
her to do, and to deepen the insult she felt.

“This captive is a valuable source of information on a new
weapon that is being developed by humans. Our race has never faced this weapon.
He has agreed to help me learn how it works if I permit him to live, and kept
safe from injury. This information is important not only to the war here, but
against all humans. Return him to his compartment, keep him safe, and provide
him with things humans use to sleep, sit, and eat. Send him clean human coverings.”

Without a pause, he returned to speaking high Krall,
apparently to the three high rank warriors. As soon as he finished, and Toltak
pulled Reynolds (rather gently, for her) towards the doorway, the other
warriors started searching the large room’s equipment cabinets, corners, and
ceiling. Probably looking for the “bugs” that Reynolds had said warned them
when Gentda went out on a raid.

****

Reynolds had been bored for the last week, but more
comfortable in his larger, and now furnished twenty foot by thirty foot
cubical. The obvious two cameras and audio pickups proved he was under
observation.  That was something he had assumed even in the smaller bare room
he’d occupied the first week. Pendor came to see him the day after Tupord had
warriors bring in the bed, table, chair, and ill-fitting clean clothes.

The Gatlek had brought self-heating coffee packs and a pile
of chocolate bars, all standard Army issue. Pendor instructed Reynolds to
consume the products and see how long he could remain awake and alert. Some
unseen translators asked periodic random questions through a hidden speaker, to
see if he was awake. The sergeant made a serious effort to remain awake for
much longer than normal, and used his thumbnail watch overlay to keep track of
time. The room had no window of course, and the light, as was normal for the
Krall, never dimmed.

After thirty-six hours, he decided it was enough time, so he
pretended to fall asleep on the bed, collapsing face down with his thumb watch where
he could see it, while his eyes were out of view of the two cameras. He did
have to fight hard to stay awake for the “show” he wanted to put on for the
watchers. After thirty minutes of feigning sleep, while desperately fighting
real sleep, he started mumbling and “talking in his sleep.” His barracks
buddies all told him he snored loudly, but never had mentioned if he spoke in
his sleep. If it were funny and embarrassing, they would have told him and used
it in jokes at his expense, and if he talked of inappropriate serious stuff,
they likely would not have said a thing.

“I need to warn them…, the Krall know what we did.” He
mumbled incoherently some more. The said, “Want to go home…, I need to escape.
Wish a spy bot would find me. The Army could come rescue me.” These were all
things he thought the listeners might expect a sleep talking prisoner to say.

A loud voice suddenly sounded from a speaker. He nearly
jerked in surprise, and practically wet himself, due to lying down with a too
full bladder in a bit of poor preplanning on his part.

“How is the sleep drug made?” The Krall’s voice asked,
entirely too loud for a normal sleeping person to ignore.

Idiots!
He almost laughed. They were testing his
autosuggestion technique, to see if he would reveal any secrets, as he said Krall
warriors did.

“It’s a secret brain chemical.” Then he mumbled some more.

“Where does it come from, how is it made?” It was still too
loud, but not as startling.

“I think made from brain chemicals..., blue birds fly up
your nose and eat worms.” Mixing in a bit of dream nonsense seemed reasonable.

“What are blue birds?”
Crap, now he’d led them into goofy
land.

“Birds are pretty, I like birds.”

“Does the chemical come from birds or worms?”

Change the subject.
“No, it comes from brains. I miss
home and I have to pee.”
That last was certainly true!

“How is the drug concentrated?”

“I wish I was a smart scientist. I would know how…, (mumble)
I need to pee.”

“Can the drug be given to many warriors at once?”

They were worried about mass battlefield effects?

“I don’t know…, It might work that way. I only did it twice
by myself…, I want to pee, need to wake up soon... (mumble).”

“Stay asleep!”

Sure, shout an order at a sleeping person to make them
stay asleep.
He’d created a stupid myth he might have a problem maintaining.

He stirred on the bed, stretching as he often did as he
awakened. He rolled over, rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Was there somebody here?
I thought I heard a loud voice.” Nothing.

Going over to the slop bucket they provided, he raised the
covering board and emptied his bladder into the odorous mess. Then he went back
to his bed. This time he really went to sleep.

Reynolds was awakened twice more by overly loud questions,
apparently when he was snoring, based on his raspy feeling throat. He sat up each
time and asked “What?” with no reply. Now he was worried he might
really
talk in his sleep, revealing that this whole charade was something he’d made up
to stay alive. He could get a good ironic laugh out of that, as they lopped off
limbs and tasted them right in front of him.

Several days later, he learned that his supposed nighttime
rambling had pushed Pendor into making a decision. One that Reynolds couldn’t
see working in his favor, despite extending his life as a relatively pampered
prisoner for a time.

“My sub-leaders found three small robot spy devices inside,
and four just outside this bunker. They all exploded in small pieces when
discovered, after sending a short encrypted radio signal. I believe your Army
knows you are alive, and they may have learned that you have agreed to help us
learn the secrets of this new sleep drug. You spoke in your sleep, telling us
you want to escape, and that they should rescue you. Neither of those things is
possible, but the small spy machines can explode, and one could find its way to
you and kill you, before you can help us.”

Damn! This sounds like they’re going to move me.
He
was more right than he expected.

“You will be joined by other prisoners, and all of you will
be sent to a place where our best K’Tals or members of our slave races can
study your brains, to find how to block the sleep drug before it is perfected
for wider use.”

He had now managed to drag other captives into his
fabrication. He considered speaking up to spare them, and accept his own
untimely and unpleasant death. However, he recalled that the Krall never
released a human prisoner except by death. A few had escaped, but they never simply
turned anyone loose. His ludicrous story might actually keep them alive longer,
so he kept silent. It wasn’t as if he had a
real
secret to risk
revealing to the enemy.

“May I ask where are we going?”

“Off this world,” was the short, disturbing answer.

“Is K1, your base, a nice place this time of year?”  That
was his guess, for maximum security.

“Telda Ka was proposed, the world you now call K1, but Tor
Gatrol Kanpardi does not think the biological technology to study the human brain
chemical is present on our base. He will send you, and enough humans for
experiments, to the former
Malveran home
world, in space that we fully control.”

He didn’t want them take
him from Poldark
. “I can safely provide you with my help from a stealth ship
in orbit here, or from one of your other bases on Poldark. What if I think of
something that is here that could help you?”

“Our biology K’Tal and slave experts are not here. It is
only a three-week journey, in human time, to the other world. For a war of many
generations, that is not long to wait for information. I replaced Toltak with a
member of my own clan as my aid.  Her Tanga clan leader on Poldark is sending
her to their base world, to return with more trained novices to fight here. You
will travel in her Clanship. She will deliver you on her way.”

Swell.
“She wants me dead. If I’m alone with her, I
will have a fatal ‘accident’ before I arrive.”

“Her clan’s honor is involved with your safe delivery. You
will not be harmed.”

With a sigh Reynolds asked, “How many days do I have before
I leave?”

“I came to take you to the shuttle.”

“Gee. Don’t I get to pack first?” he asked.

It was wasted sarcasm, as usual. “All you have are your
coverings, and they are on your body.”

****

The Clanship had been in the Jump Hole for five days when
Toltak entered the open deck area where she housed the seventeen humans.
Reynolds had discovered, upon boarding the ship, that sixteen young men and
women would accompany him. There was eight of each gender. They appeared
selected specifically for youth, health, and vigor. They were recent captures,
in a flash raid on a large city, resulting in a high number of deaths on both
sides.

As a member of the military, Sergeant Reynolds, as they
addressed him, was the older and more experienced man at fifty-two, and
appeared to know why they were there. He was as up front with them as possible
about what the Krall might do with them experimentally. He omitted the part
about the phony story he had told the Krall, because that detail wasn’t going
to soothe their fears, or help him keep their hopes alive if they felt they
couldn’t trust him. He carried a huge load of guilt around.

Knowing Toltak would not kill or even harm him, he always
met her when she came, and he did the talking for the group. All of the younger
people, in their twenties, knew the general precautions required when
confronted with a Krall that wasn’t trying to kill them right then. Don’t stare
or make eye contact, and obey any order. Reynolds didn’t know if the other
prisoners had any guarantee of safe delivery, but he didn’t want to risk any of
them to find out.

Averting his eyes, he walked up to her. He looked away
because he didn’t want her to use his disrespect as an excuse to harm someone
else in retaliation. She appeared slightly mollified by his improved behavior,
though he knew she would like nothing better than to carve him up for the
others to watch.

“We are honored by your visit. What is it you want of us?” A
week ago he would have puked before saying that to her.

“There will be a landing soon, but is not on your
destination world. I want to visit another world for one or two days. My pilot
and the four warriors with me have never seen this place. I wish to hunt there
with them. You will be locked inside the ship, and safe. If you do not make
trouble, I will reward you with a taste of the meat we kill. It is unique. Do
not think you can operate this Clanship yourself. It will activate only for a
Krall, and the doors will not open for you. Do you understand?”

“Not completely. We can’t eat just any meat you would feed
us from some alien world. Is it safe for us?”

“Yes. Humans have eaten it before, many times, and liked it.
However, no human alive has eaten it for at least a Krall breeding cycle. They
called it rhinolo.”

Carson, Ethan, their fathers, Commander Mirikami, and a
dozen others intended to spend most of this year exploring Koban’s next largest
continent, now named
Jura. The boys, over nineteen
and just
graduated from Prime City High School, wanted a break before starting at Hub
City University.

This more “primitive” continent was isolated
from the other two continents by wide stretches of ocean. Cenozo was the
continent where Hub City and Prime City were located.

The third and smallest continent,
Paleogene,
connected to Cenozo via a geologically recent land bridge. The formerly isolated
dominate life forms of those two land masses were still mingling and adjusting.
The scientists from the Flight of Fancy were responsible for the odd names of
the three continents, rather than named by explorers as was sometimes the case
on Earth.