Spears of the Sun (Star Sojourner Book 3) (2 page)

There was a sudden ache in my forehead. I rubbed my temples. Someone was invading my thoughts. I knew it wasn't Spirit. This link had a desperate quality.

We were past the mountains when an acrid hint of smoke permeated the cabin. It was coming from outside the craft.

“Do you smell smoke?” I asked Joe.

He nodded and peered through the windshield. The air above the tree line west of Willa's ranch was a gray smudge in the sky.

“We'd better skirt it,” he said grimly and banked the hovair.

“Her ranch is just beyond those trees!” I tried to ignore the tightening in my throat.

“It's a wildfire, Jules. Could be anywhere in these forests.”

I realized that I had instinctively thrown up mind shields against the agonized thoughts invading my brain. I lowered them and probed.

It came as a tormented cry across a mental chasm.
Jules. Help me! Oh God! I'm trapped. Help me. Please! I'm trapped! I can't –

“Willa!” I screamed. I leaned across Joe and clutched the wheel. “It's Willa. She's trapped! Give me the controls!”

Joe relinquished them and slid out of the pilot's seat as I took it. I plunged the craft above the trees, blinded by smoke, and toward the ranch. The smoke thickened as I approached. I gasped in a shuddering breath when I saw flames spew out through smashed walls of the house. “Oh, no. No! Spirit!”

I am truly sorry, Jules,
he sent.
There is nothing I can do to help her now. Perhaps if I had been in contact earlier…

“Oh God!”
I'm coming, Willa. I'm coming, baby,
I sent soothingly, though she's not a tel and can't receive.
Hold on. I'll be there in two minutes.

Jules!
she cried in agony.
God! Help me!
The mindlink weakened.
Help me! Please!
She screamed within my mind.

“This can't be happening!”
Willa? Hold on,
I sent, though I knew she couldn't read it.
I'm coming!

I lowered the craft to the ground. It bounced and flung up dirt as I slammed on brakes and skidded to a stop. The house was a skeleton of blazing fibrin, as though dying in the arms of fire.

“I'm here, Willa,” I yelled. I threw open the cabin door and leaped down.

“Jules!” Joe followed me. “What the hell are you doing?”

I ran toward the house, but Joe threw himself at me. My knees buckled and we both went down.

“Get off me!” I shouted as he straddled my back and pinned my wrists to the ground. I struggled, but Joe, even at sixty-seven, was a moose of a man. “I have to save her. Get off me!”

He just tightened his grip and leaned harder. “I'm sorry, kid. There's no saving her.”

The house was a crumbling skeleton. Heated air exploded. The fire flashed over and the structure burst and collapsed. Pieces of blackened fibrin and shards of the roof spun through smoky air.

“Willa!” I screamed.

Joe stood up. “You would've gotten killed too.”

I rested my cheek on the cool grass and felt tears slide across my face. “Oh, Willa,” I mumbled, “It should have been me instead of you.” To ease my agony, I closed my eyes and pictured her the way she'd been…

Two months ago she'd told me she would love to have a patch of Earth grass. I'd ordered the expensive seeds and planted them without telling her it was real Earth grass. I nurtured the patch daily. One day Willa walked over with her boyish gait and studied the furrowed earth.

“So what are you growing, hon?” she asked. “Is it a secret?”

“Oh, no. Just weeds.” I'd wiped a grimy hand across my sweaty forehead.

“Weeds?”

“Weeds.”

Her hazel eyes had widened. “Don't we have enough weeds, dear?” The smile became a smirk.

“Oh, I dunno.” I stood up. “You can never have enough weeds. Anyway, these are special weeds.

“You biologists.” A frown crossed her smooth forehead. “OK. Then more weeds.” She hugged me and ran her hand through my hair. She loved to do that. I loved to let her.

“It's so blonde and soft,” she said.

“I bleach it just for you.” I kissed her forehead.

“Do you also bleach your eyes to my favorite shade of blue?”

“It hurts like hell, love, but I take the pain to please my Willa.”

“And did you stretch your bones on a rack to get so tall and lean, my honey?”

“That one was a killer. I started out short and fat, you know. But I yelled 'More! More! Turn the wheel harder. My Willa likes tall skinny men'.”

“Why don't you come into the house and I'll give you a haircut.”

“Ah, shucks. I was hoping for more than a haircut.”

The day the first green shoots broke through the ground, she ran to me, her broad smile lighting her face, and threw her arms around my neck.

“I guess you like my weeds?” I said.

“I guess I like you.” She stood on her toes and kissed me. “You're so beautiful.”

“That's handsome, my lady.
You're
beautiful.”

We had gone to this patch together and held hands as we laid side by side in the soft green grass of Earth.

I opened my eyes. Now my tears watered the grass. Now the sweet scent was covered by the acrid odor of burning fibrin.

I sat up and stared at the smoldering ruins of our house. Small fires still snapped and died. Heated fibrin exploded in puffs. The two vehicles parked near the house were covered with soot and debris. Our plans and our dreams for a future together lay broken.

Willa…

Jules. My love.

It was her kwaii, as Loranths would tell you, her soul, leaving her body.

She couldn't stay, but I wanted her presence as I wanted breath.

Stay for a while, baby. Just for a little while. I love you so much. My Willa.
Tears flowed down my cheeks.
My life.

I cannot, my love.
Her spirit was drifting away.
I'm being called.

I know. Just for a while. I don't know what to do without you.

Live your life, Jules. Please, you have to let me go.

I don't know how.

Jules!
It was Spirit.
If you love the Terran woman, release her. Willa, go to your Lord, to
Great Mind, and have no fears. Your pain is over.

Goodbye, my love,
she sent.

Then she was gone.

She left behind a void in my chest that I couldn't fill. A hollow place where my heart had been, and took it with her. I lowered my head and cried like a baby.

I felt Joe's hand on my shoulder.

In the distance, the growing wail of fire trucks.

“It's my fault!” I slammed a fist on the ground. “I ruin everything I touch!”

“Not this time. Whoever did this followed me here. When they saw my rented ground car parked next to her hovar they figured we were inside the house together.”

“She's gone.” I wiped an arm across my wet eyes. “I'll never see her again, Joe.” Suddenly I felt tired. Weary as a spent day. “They killed the most innocent one among us.”

Joe sighed. “We'd better leave.” He scanned the sky. “If the bastards come back and see this hovair undamaged, they'll figure they missed me and come in for another strike. They want you alive.” He gestured toward the approaching trucks. “But there are more innocent lives at stake now. Come on, kid.”

I got up, looked back once at the blackened ruins, then followed Joe to the hovair and boarded. I watched smoke roil around us as he lifted the craft into the blue sky. “I want to go after them, Joe. I want to find them.”

“So you can bring them in for interrogation, right?” He studied me. “Our intelligence reports tell us that General Ki Rowdinth hired rogue W-CIA agents. We need whatever information they possess to break this ring. There's a lot at stake.”

“Interrogation?” I said softly and rubbed the grass stains on my hands. “Sure.”
If you can interrogate the dead,
I thought.

Willa's ranch was sold to a wealthy, retired tag.

I rubbed my hands. The green stains had long ago disappeared. The horses had been rounded up and herded back to the corral. Willa's dog Buck returned on his own and stayed with the new owner.

I never went back to the ranch. Willa's body had been consumed by a fire so hot only a few remnants of bones were found among the fibrin ashes.

“Jules?”

I realized Joe had been talking to me.

“Oh, sorry. What?”

“It's all right. I said a native of the gold mining planet Fartherland, a crote who calls himself General Rowdinth, and two disgruntled NASA scientists teamed up…” He glanced around the restaurant. It was past lunchtime and most of Laurel's workforce was back on the job. The few remaining customers, three women and their children, sat at a far table, engaged in conversations.

“The scientists stole classified documents,” Joe continued, “on a project that was designed to harness dark energy.”

“Dark – How in hell do you harness dark energy when we don't know what it is?”

“You'll have to ask the rocket scientists about that one.”

“What do these crotes want?”

Joe chewed the stem of his unlit pipe and stared out the window, but I knew he was looking inward. We sat in a dark corner. The slimes who killed Willa could still be hunting for Joe, and maybe me, too, if they knew that Interstel wanted my services to nail them.
To the wall!
I thought grimly.

“The general contacted the Worlds Bank on planet Alpha,” Joe said, “and told the officials to unlock the depository vault, tell the military base to pack their duffel bags and get the hell off-planet or…” He scratched his bristly cheek.

“Or what?”

“Or stay for the coming Fourth of July and watch Earth burn up like a barbecue coal.”

I hunched forward on the table. “How does Interstel know this isn't just a bluff?”

“After NASA's project documents were stolen, a senior physicist and his son, both on the project, never showed up for work again.”

“Then NASA believes that this…what? A weapon, can actually burn up Earth?”

“The Dark Energy Project wasn't conceived as a weapon.” He put down his pipe and sipped coffee. “NASA figures these crotes could use it as a means to an end.”

“What sort of means?”

“The tags at NASA have some theories about that, but – “He looked up as a slim, blonde teenage waitress with freckles approached. She wore a frilly white apron against her short black dress that swayed with her hips as she walked. Sexy. Then I remembered how young she was and I felt guilty.

She smiled and set two dishes in front us.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

She winked at me and walked away.

“But?” I asked Joe.

“Nothing solid yet. That's where you come in.”

Three Terran men entered the restaurant and sat at a table across from us. Something about their demeanor set off alarm bells. I lowered my mental shields and probed. They were more interested in the menus they studied than in observing us. But then, if they were sent by General Rowdinth, they'd know I was a tel and they'd guard their thoughts.

The waitress came out from the back room and blocked my sight of them as she took their orders.

“Joe?” I nodded discreetly in their direction.

“Stay alert,” he said. “I don't like their looks either. Just act normal…for you.”

“I'll try,” I told him. This was no time for sarcasm. “Where does this alien rogue general fit into the scheme?”

“All we know about him is that he was indicted for rape and first-degree murder of a Terran woman.” Joe fumbled as he put away his unlit pipe but I saw him slide a call unit from his pants pocket and press a button. A green light blinked on.

“I chewed a fingernail. “What the hell are we dealing with here?” I whispered. “This slime raped the woman and then murdered her too?”

“She was from a mining camp, and it was the other way around.”

“Jesus and Vishnu.”

The smell of frying fish wafted out from the kitchen and did nothing to settle my queasy stomach.

“Keep talking,” Joe said and glanced at the men. He speared a piece of stew meat in his dish and chewed. “These crotes at the table might just be workers and nothing more.”

I tried to pick up the cup of coffee but my hand shook.

Joe noticed. “Put it
down.”

I did. “I can't be the only undercover agent on an operation this important. Who are my colleagues?”

“One way we protect our W-CIA agents,” he said around a mouthful, “is to keep all your identities secret, from each other, too.”

I pictured secret handshakes, clandestine meetings, safe houses, and a cyanide pill tucked inside my cheek.

I spit out the chewed fingernail. “I want Lisa off Earth!”

“Keep your voice down. She already is. We figured that was your prerequisite for this work. Mine too.”

“Don't tell me where she is, Joe. If my mission is uncovered by General Rowdinth, I don't want to know where Lisa is.”

“I wasn't about to tell you. Then I take this as a
yes
on the mission?”

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. “Next thing, they'll ask me to save the galaxy. Then maybe Great Mind will hire me to straighten out things in Nirvana.”

“Who the hell's Great Mind?”

“The tag who runs it all. You call Him Christ-Buddha.”

“You got a direct line?”

“Party line.”

“You'll have to tell me about that when this mess is over.”

“You'll have to ask Spirit. He's the authority on God.”

“Spirit?” He put down his fork and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “Great Mind. Spirit. I don't think you inhabit the same universe as the rest of us.”

I thought of Willa and wondered if her kwaii had reincarnated yet. And where? There was no use talking about it with Joe. He wouldn't understand. I drummed my fingers on the table. “Telepathy does that for you.” Speaking of which… I glanced at the three tags as they studied dessert menus.

“Stop looking at them.” Joe gestured toward my plate. “You going to eat, or just let it collect dust?”

I stared at my dish. “I'm not hungry.”

“Eat anyway. People don't come to restaurants when they're not hungry.”

I chewed an undercooked asparagus spear.

“You know,” Joe said, “I lost my partner five months before he retired.

Here comes the Dutch-uncle talk,
I thought.

“Tag was blown away by pirates stalking the trade lanes between Earth and Titian. Curt and I worked together for eighteen years.”

“But life goes on, right?”

“Unless you figure the people you care about are immortal.”

“Why don't you smoke your pipe while I try for a mindprobe on one of those three tags.”

“Abby made me give up the pipe couple of months back.” He sipped coffee. “I found another hobby.”

“Oh?” I waited. Joe likes pregnant pauses.

“The fine art of getting old with grace.” His hand went inside his jacket and gripped something. A weapon, I assumed.

“I hope we both make it to old age,” I said. I closed my eyes, exhaled a breath and relaxed, trying for an alpha brain rhythm, the most conducive for telepathy. I pictured the red ball coalescing within my mind, forced it to grow with my energy, and threw it at the most sinister-looking of the three tags, a big guy with fleshy, tattooed arms and a black leather vest over his blue checkered shirt.

I got trouble with my truck
. He formed the thought, then said it aloud.

“Oh, yeah?” another burly tag answered. This guy was bald and wore a tattoo that announced:
Bald Eagle! Don't Mess With Me!
His mustache and beard were dark and thick, and I got the silly idea that his head was on upside down.

“You always have trouble with that beast,” a thin hawk-nosed tag with glasses said. He was young, and I think he just hadn't had enough time to pack on the pounds. “What's the problem
this
time?” he asked.

“Damn electrical system again. I'm holding that rig together with spit an' a prayer.”
What the hell…?
he thought.

“He's watching you,” Joe said casually, between bites.

“Oh, shit,” I muttered. “He knows.”

He's that telepath,
I caught the tag's thought. Then he said it aloud to his friends.

I opened my eyes. The three of them had turned to stare at me.

“You carrying your stingler?” Joe took a sip of coffee.

“I left it in the parked hovair. They're truck drivers, Joe.”

“Maybe.” He let out a breath and continued eating. “How come he knew what you were up to?”

“I still have trouble probing minds that are sensitive to telepathy without them knowing it. Sensitives.” I nodded. “I guess I haven't learned the fine art of focusing.”

“I could've told you that.”

“Thanks for your support.”

The three tags stood up.

Joe slid out his weapon, a stingler, and tucked it next to him on the seat.

I tensed, ready for whatever.

But they just strode out of the restaurant.

The waitress came out from the back room with a tray of food. Wait!” she called.

The last tag slammed the door behind himself.

“What happened?” she asked me. “I was bringing them their orders.”

I shrugged. “I think they had an argument.”

“Oh.” She tossed back her hair and winked at me again.

I winked back.

And just that fast, things returned to normal.

I let out a breath. “When's the shuttle due to pick us up, Joe?”

He checked his watch. “In about three hours' time. Interstel's starship is already orbiting Halcyon.”

I sat back. Dark energy. Scientists knew very little about it. Still, they had harnessed it to manipulate space-time and get starships to their destinations inside bubbles. But as a means to burn up Earth? I shook my head. I purposely didn't ask Joe if my former wife Althea and his wife Abby were also off Earth. He was right. The less information I carried around, the better. The Fourth of July… “What's today's date, Earth time?”

“By the Gregorian calendar, April 24th.” He checked his watch. “You want Earth time of day?”

“No. That's close enough. If we fail in this mission, will the Worlds Bank hand over the depository to this slime?”

Joe squinted at me. “You never cared two creds for the things money can buy. Do you know what would happen to the Worlds Trade Centers on all of Earth's dependent colonies, and the free worlds,
and
the alien planets, if they found out there was no gold to back Earth's money?”

I shook my head.

“I didn't think so.”

“There's no gold? Well, if no one
knew
that their creds weren't backed by gold – “

“That's the best kept secret in the Worlds' Government on planet Alpha.” His grim expression scared me more than the threat to Earth.

“What is?”

“The financial systems are no longer backed by gold at Alpha's depository. Haven't been since the Twelve-Year-War with the BEMS. Before your time.”

“I've read the history books. Before your time, too.”

We called them BEMS for bug-eyed-monsters, because the human tongue couldn't pronounce the real name of this highly technological, highly expansive race of beings with the largest eyes in the known star systems. BEMS reproduced like the proverbial rabbits and had run out of resources on their home world. The war had reduced them to a pre-technological level. Their reproductive habits reduced them even further down the technological rungs.

I heard laughter and realized it was the women at the far table. The children were fidgeting.

“But the depository is a fortified vault building,” I said. “Christlotus, it's supposed to be impenetrable!”

“Yeah, and Titanic couldn't sink.”

“What's Titanic?”

“Before your time, kid. There's a big hole in the ground where the depository used to be. Blown to smithereens and hell. We still don't know the technology behind the weapon the BEMS used. They destroyed it themselves when the Alliance Forces invaded Kybrargrothga…Kybrargreatka – Ah, whatever the hell. Their home world.” He put down his fork. “Now I'm not hungry, either.”

“What about Earth's Federal Reserve banks? They've got more gold bullion than the Worlds Depository…had. Don't they?”

“That's old history, kid. The reserve banks are spread out across the colonies now, the free planets, and even some friendly alien nations for safe keeping, if you'll pardon the pun. We learned our lesson with the Alpha/BEMS disaster.

“But we don't have any enemies.”

“Today's friends are tomorrow's enemies.”

“From the look on your face, I get the feeling that Worlds Coalition doesn't want to hand over their gold just to save ole Earth.”

“Their patriotism is to their own home worlds now. Most of the populations were born on their respective planets and have never visited Earth.”

The waitress brought out Joe's slice of pie and set it before him. I kept my gaze down. I was getting tired of winking back at her.

Joe took a bite. When the waitress had returned to the kitchen, he stopped chewing. “It's like the United States giving up its financial basis and plunging into chaos to save England.”

“So a couple of disgruntled, greedy slimetrolls can hold all of Earth hostage? That's hard to believe.”

“Read your history books. They're full of dictators and rogue militia who ordered the torture and death of millions or started wars that killed millions.”

The women were taking out their credcards.

Joe stared at the children. They had finished eating and were playing with restaurant-supplied toys. “Sometimes I think human life is the cheapest commodity of all.”

“I guess. Cheaper than gold.”

The women punched their bill into the table check-out unit. They gathered their children and headed for the door. A toddler cried because he couldn't take the restaurant toy with him. A woman scooped him up and carried him outside while he pummeled her shoulder with tiny fists.

Had things gone differently, Willa might have been among these women, and someday with children of our own.

Joe checked his watch. “We should get down to the spaceport. I want that shuttle fine-toothed-combed before we board.”