Kudisha Departure Episode 1 Journey to Rehnor series (5 page)

Yes. I am ready. I can do
this
.

Wooter set down his drink, and made to rise,
the pressure instantly easing, the tension gone.

“Kari-fa!” he swore.

Lynda sighed, and closed her eyes.

Wooter had been married once, and divorced
once. This was nearly twenty years ago when he was barely out of
high school. Certainly, he had no problems then. If anything, his
problem was entirely the opposite. His girlfriend had become
pregnant, and the next thing he knew, he was a husband, and soon to
be a father.

Except, the infant died. Only
minutes after birth, Wooter’s son took one breath, but refused
another. It was almost as if the boy looked around and
decided,
No, thank you. I’m not ready for
this. Call me again when you guys have figured out how to stop
fighting
.

After that, it seemed there was no point in
remaining married, so Wooter and his bride went their separate
ways. Wooter joined the Royal Guard. As to his ex-wife, he had no
clue what happened to her. It was just as well, as he had never
liked her all that much anyway.

Fate had smiled upon Wooter, although it
didn’t appear so at first, when he was assigned to the squadron of
the Royal Guard’s worst lieutenant. Bleckerd was not only stupid,
but completely lacking in common decency. His greatest source of
entertainment was when one of his men fell face first into the mud,
or nearly drowned crossing a river with an eighty pound pack upon
his back.

There was something sadistic in Bleckerd that
led him to taunt the men under his command in ways that left Wooter
shuddering even now, in ways that left Wooter emasculated more than
a dozen years later.

Wooter’s temper got the best of him one night,
or it might have been the abundance of alcohol consumed at a bar.
Coupled with the inability to enjoy a girl already bought and paid,
Wooter’s patience for Bleckerd was sorely tested. Upon returning to
base, the young guard was confronted by his commander, and
subsequently, one ended up with a broken jaw, and the other locked
in jail. From there, Wooter was sent to the northernmost point on
the entire planet, to man an outpost with non-other than Lt.
Karukan, the then-crown prince.

Initially, Wooter found this new assignment as
grievous as the prior, for what would the prince be but another
pampered ass? Karukan, in the meantime, regarded the other’s
arrival as an intrusion, for he was perfectly content in the ice
bound cave all by himself.

“What are we to do up here anyway?” Wooter
demanded, purposely avoiding any reference to the prince’s
rank.

“We are monitoring Hahr’s troop movements,”
Karukan replied. Casually, he glanced at the screen before him,
waggled a finger at a few red dots, before returning his attention
to the book laid flat upon his lap.

And, this is how it went for the first few
months with the two men only meeting upon changing shifts. Wooter
grew restless, though, for he was unused to silence, and
interminable snow, so despite his initial reluctance, he made an
effort to speak to Karukan.

“The weather…do you think it’s going to
change?”

The prince looked up from his latest book with
a shocked expression.

“Well…no,” he replied, after a time. “No, the
weather here only varies by ten degrees year round. During the
summer months, we can expect a high of forty-below.”

“The troops,” Wooter began again at another
attempt to converse with the prince. “Do you think Hahr is making
any progress in their movements?”

Again, Karukan looked up, bewilderment
stretched across his furrowed brow.

“Well…no. It appears they are advancing only
meters at a time.”

“Ach well, we have nothing to fear,” Wooter
proclaimed.

“Certainly, we do,” Karukan protested. “For we
are watching the wrong place, monitoring the wrong
thing.”

In order to demonstrate his meaning to the now
bewildered Wooter, Karukan produced a chess set from the drawer
beneath his desk.

“Who do you play with all alone up here?”
Wooter asked, as the prince set the pieces upon the
board.

“My…my…myself.”

Wooter noted the hesitation in the prince’s
voice, as if he fully expected the other to recognize this as a
lie.

“Now, you see,” the prince continued. “Hahr’s
army is like this group of pawns. Our’s are here and here, for my
brother is hesitant in his moves. In the meantime, Kalila has set a
bishop here, and a rook over there. Another move and he’ll have my
brother trapped.” Then, he shook his head and made a tsking noise
between his teeth.

Wooter had never played chess, and while he
couldn’t say whether or not it equated to the armies in real life,
it gave the two men something to do, for lack of anything else. The
prince was happy to teach him the game, and thereafter, they played
incessantly, as their duties required little effort. In fact, most
nights one or the other chose to stay and compete, forgoing sleep,
which in this assignment, was hardly required.

When Karukan was called back to the Kudisha to
assume the throne newly vacated by his dead brother, he insisted
Wooter join him there.

“You are my greatest friend,” Karukan
declared. “And, I believe your counsel will be wise.”

Wooter didn’t know why the King thought that,
as no one else had ever professed any confidence in his wisdom.
However, leaving the frigid north to stand behind the new king’s
throne was inarguably the smartest thing he had ever
done.

All these years later, as Wooter made his way
back to the palace, to his solitary room, he didn’t regret his
actions for a minute. Soon, very soon, he would be one of only a
handful left alive.

Chapter 6

Lynda had a choice to make and it wouldn’t
depend on who she loved best. Frankly, she didn’t love either of
them, not Wooter, and certainly, not Kalila’s man, Yurt. They were
both assholes, and she was being kind when she said
that.

Her option was this: she could stay, and Yurt
would find her a safe hole in a dome. That’s essentially what it
would be, and no amount of knick knicks or paintings would improve
the décor. It would be a windowless, claustrophobic closet deep
beneath the ground, a living coffin where she would remain until
she died.

Lynda could probably marry Yurt. She knew he
wanted to, and then, they’d have kids who would be born and raised
in this underground city. Like their neighbors the moles and
cockroaches, and the handful of other people who managed to stay
alive, Lynda’s sole job would be a mother, responsible for Hahr’s
regeneration.

“It won’t be so bad,” Yurt had insisted, when
he took her on tour of a facility, specifically the one to which
King Markiis Kalila and his loyal lieutenants were all assigned.
“It’s actually quite grand. You’ll see. It’ll be just like living
outside as we are now. You’ll get used to it. If our King and Saint
decrees we must, we will get used to anything.”

He pinched her then, in that annoying way he
did, possessively, and a bit sadistically, to show her who was
boss. It was hard enough to hurt a little, and also indicative that
he could do much worse. If he wanted to. If she didn’t stay in
line, and follow his orders.

Yurt could break her wrist, or twist her arm
until it bruised. Once, he punched her in the face and knocked out
three teeth. Lynda told Wooter she had fallen down the stairs. They
were covered with snow, and she was wearing heels because she
always wanted to look her best for him. There had been doubt in
Wooter’s eyes, but he didn’t ask or push for further explanation.
Lynda was a whore, and these things happened.

Now, as she gazed up at the false blue sky,
interrupted only occasionally by a lazy cloud, Lynda wondered which
option was the better of two evils.

“What do you think?” Yurt asked, as she stared
off in the distance at the green mountains rising majestically
above the Red Ocean and pink sand beaches. It was just like
outside, just like it really was, but not for long.

The problem with the visage before them, Lynda
thought, although she didn’t say, was that it was all fake,
synthetic, an illusion. In reality, instead of those scattered
clouds, metal struts held up a leaden roof, which was intended to
protect them from nuclear isotopes swirling in the air.

“How long would we have to live in
here?”

Yurt shrugged and reached for her arm. He
pulled her tightly against his side, running a hand across her
buttocks. Yurt was forever ready, forever wanting, forever taking,
even when she hurt. To be with Wooter was a relief, despite his
frustration.

“Forever. At least, it would be forever for
us, and our children for several generations hence. But, our people
will live. Hahr will recover. Our King and Saint’s descendants will
still reign in a thousand years, when Karukan the Infidel, and the
name de Kudisha is long forgotten.”

Yurt new about the Karupta spacecraft. Lynda
had told him. That was her job. He laughed at it, scorned the
Karut’s for imagining they could escape.

Wooter, on the other hand, mocked the domes
Hahr was constructing.

“We’ll see how well they hold up after we drop
one hundred megatons upon their heads.”

Therein lay Lynda’s choice for Wooter had
asked the same of her.

“Come with me. I shall marry you and bring you
as my wife. You may be a nanny to the little prince, Behrat. He is
not very demanding, and really quite a nice little lad, and it
shall give you practice mothering the children we shall have. The
Queen will be glad of the company, too. Another woman to chat with,
with whom to complain about us men.” Wooter reached for Lynda’s
hands, and gallantly kissed each one upon the palm.

Lynda couldn’t decide, as flying off into
space, assuming the ship didn’t explode, was about as enticing as
committing herself forever to the hole in the ground.

“What are the chances we’ll survive?” she
asked. “That we’ll actually get to that planet, whatever it’s
called.”

Wooter laughed, and waved her question away,
refusing to answer. Then, they had gone to his room, and despite
the visions of that spacecraft looming in her head, she had
diligently tried to bring him some relief. The spacecraft must have
been preoccupying him as well, for it was clear almost from the
start that tonight would be no more successful than usual. At
least, he didn’t hit her. At least, he thanked her with a handful
of coins. Maybe, Wooter and his spacecraft would be the
winner.

It was the disputed island chain that set it
all off. Lynda knew this because that was her job.

“Our King and Saint intends to keep it,” Yurt
informed her. “See what the Infidel plans to do.”

“The islands are rich in oil and gas deposits.
There are minerals practically upon the surface just for the
taking. These islands have always been independent lands. We can’t
allow Hahr’s aggression to go unabated.” Wooter murmured this as he
lay back upon his pillow, another long night of failure stretching
ahead.

“What do you think Ruka intends to do?” Lynda
asked, referring to the King by the name which Wooter
affectionately used. She knew he didn’t mean it disrespectfully.
Wooter was unfailingly loyal to his king, so much so he would have
killed her in an instant if he knew where and with whom else she
spent her time.

“That depends on what your Saint does,” Wooter
responded.

“Not my Saint. How many times have I told you
that?” Lynda rolled her eyes dramatically, and shook her head with
flourish.

Wooter watched her, studied her really, his
own eyes narrowing the tiniest bit.

He suspects
, Lynda thought, although she would deny it no matter how he
pressed.

“Have you made a decision yet?” Wooter asked
instead.

“Do I need to?” Now, Lynda laughed.
Despite everything she knew, part of her had thought it would never
come to that. The domes, the spacecraft, they were all for show. It
was merely a psychological war playing out. One king was simply
calling the other’s bluff.
See how I shall
survive if you do this.

Wooter didn’t answer. His phone rang, and he
turned his back. Lynda understood this to be her cue to to leave,
and so wrapping her robe around her body, she disappeared into the
bathroom.

Turning on the shower, Lynda crept back to the
door, cracking it open slightly and pressing her ear into that
space.

“Yes, Sir,” Wooter was saying. “I understand,
Sir.”

“What?” Lynda whispered to herself. “What do
you understand? What is happening?”

“I am so sorry to hear it has come to that,
Sir.”

“What has it come to?” Lynda hissed, just as
the door swung open. Wooter stared at her, before inclining his
head toward the shower. “I…I…”

“Yes?” Wooter eyes had grown cold. With his
arms crossed in front of his chest, he glared down at
Lynda.