Torian Reclamation 2: Flash Move (21 page)

Jumper felt something grab his ankle. He looked down. It was Lakor5, thank Erob. He had pulled himself out of the swamp and had one hand on the rope still, and the other clenched on to Jumper’s leg.

Jumper leaned down. “You all right?”

“Not …going …on …any …more …trips …with …you …Earth kids.”

Jumper squeezed his shoulder and felt a wave of relief. This was one native friend he didn’t want to lose.

Then he noticed Kayla was crouching on the ground next to Alan, who hadn’t changed positions. It was unlike Alan to neglect helping in an emergency, even if he was hindered.

“Something’s wrong with him,” Kayla said. “I think he might be …sick.”

Jumper pried Lakor5’s fingers loose from his ankle and went over to Alan’s other side. He could see his face was discolored, much too pink.

“Alan, can you walk?” Jumper said.

“Yeah,” Alan responded. He reached up and grabbed a hold of Jumper’s hand. Jumper and Kayla pulled him up. They let go. He stood in place, and then took two steps forward. “I’ll be okay. Sorry about not helping.”

“Good,” Jumper said. “Because we figure to have a long walk ahead of us. Assuming we aren’t on an island.”

They weren’t, thankfully. It turned out to be a peninsula, so they were able to make their way across solid ground to the surrounding flatlands. The pleasantness of seeing Kayla in soaking wet clothes was more than offset by the foreboding of Alan’s wretched appearance. Hopefully he wasn’t really sick. None of the second-generation Earthlings had ever seen anyone who was sick before. Those were dark stories of Earth told by their parents. It was a foreign concept to the natives as well. The closest thing to disease known by Torians were injuries sustained by contact with poisonous plants or animals. This was a relatively rare occurrence for the natives, because of their tough skin. Sheen were more vulnerable, and as such maintained something of a medical practice within their communities. Jumper realized they needed to get Alan back to the Sheen village as quickly as possible. But the sun was low in the sky and there was a river between here and there.

Jumper came up next to Mulb9. “I don’t suppose any of those gadgets on your belt are a communication radio?”

Mulb9 took a shiny cylinder out of one of his pouches and held it up.

“This is an O-tube. It connects directly to the confederation headquarters in the village. Right next to the prophet’s lodge.”

“Great!” Jumper said. “You can call for help. Alan really needs it.”

Mulb9 shook his head as he pressed a button on it repeatedly. “No longer working. Not fully waterproof. Native Torians aren’t expected to get wet much.”

“I’ll be all right,” Alan said. Jumper detected a note of forced optimism in his voice. But any optimism was good from him right now. And he was keeping up with the pace of the group, for the time being.

“Did anyone recognize those two alien ships that came over us at the swamp?” Jumper asked. “It looked like one was chasing the other up there, and then they both seemed to lose control somewhat. Either that or they aren’t very good at flying in the atmosphere.”

There was no response.

Mulb9 then looked at Totlen6 and said, “Don’t you know who they were?”

Totlen6 frowned. “I think the one in the rear was Circon. Not sure about the other. If it was truly a chase, I’d expect the other to be Noor.”

“Do those two races not get along?” Kayla asked.

“No,” Totlen6 replied. “But the prophet is hoping to put an end to that at the tournament. He’s directed a cessation of hostilities be effective in the atmosphere above C3.”

Jumper laughed. “Oh, he directed that, did he? Correct me if I’m wrong, but Amulen has no space fleet. All commercial flights are Banorian-controlled. He can direct all he wants, but how’s he going to stop two alien races from fighting? We were here the other day when that air battle took place above the Central Region, remember.”

“That’s when he affected the directive,” Mulb9 said.

“What do you mean?”

Mulb9 looked at Jumper. “You didn’t see how that ended?”

“No. We were busy escaping.”

“Then you missed a good show. You saw what happened to those two craft above us at the swamp. Now imagine the same thing happening to all those dozens of ships in the air.”

“What?” Jumper said. “How?”

“That’s classified,” Totlen6 said, scowling at Mulb9. Mulb9 shrugged.

“Well,” Jumper said, “next time you find yourself drowning in a swamp, instructions on how to swim to shore might be classified.”

Kayla punched Jumper in the stomach.

Mulb9 laughed. “Don’t take offense, Jumper. The information is classified from us as well. We only know the prophet controls some kind of power, be it a secret technology or what have you, that renders spacecraft incapable of shooting at each other while they’re in the local air above us. It’s not such an extraordinary feat if you think about it, considering all the technology Torians have developed—such as the REEP weapon. I couldn’t explain that one to you either. Yet I know it works.”

“Directionally-focused magnetic repulsion,” Alan feebly said. Jumper looked at him and smiled.

“So we are told,” Mulb9 replied. “That’s a nice explanation. Now tell me just how the extat does
that
work?”

“My dad could tell you,” Jumper said.

“Your dad couldn’t tell us how a radiogenic oven works,” Kayla interjected.

Jumper glared at her, but saw she was smiling in an attractive way—plus she still looked so darn good in those wet clothes—so he let it go.

“Well if you want to get technical,” Jumper said, “you can’t tell me how the sun gives us just the right amount of heat, or how a hydrosphere planet stays in just the right orbit to sustain life. But you ought to taste the candeer fish stew my dad makes in that radiogenic oven.”

Dusk came upon them quickly. The ground they were now traversing was flat, which looked safe to continue on in the dark. On the horizon were large bushes that marked what could only be the bank of the river.

“Mulb9,” Jumper said, “How are we going to cross the river? Especially at night? Alan and I would normally be content to camp until morning, but I want to have the Sheen look at him as soon as possible.”

“There’s a spot upstream where we might be able to cross on boulders, depending on the river flow. I have a projector that should still be working.” He produced another cylinder from his belt and a bright beam of light came forth from it. He shined it all around in the sky and across the plain in front of them.

“Hopping boulders across a river at night?’ Jumper said. “I think that dunk in the swamp must have dulled your senses. I don’t want Alan trying to do that now.”

“I’m fine!” Alan said. Jumper turned around to face him. He looked better, but not fine.

“I’ll make it, Jumper.”

Jumper shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to try. This crazy modern society we live in, if that’s what it is. Remember what we learned in history about bridges? There was a time—both here and on Earth—when rivers were bridged, so anyone could get across, anytime they wanted, and they had their choice of crossing points. These days, you’re screwed if your hovercraft isn’t working. Or if you drove too close over a jagged rock and punctured the hover field.”

The driver turned and glared at Jumper. As Jumper stared back at him, his glare shifted to obvious embarrassment and he looked away.

Just then, the sound of a rotorcraft came into earshot, from the direction of the village. Mulb9 waved his projector beam in the air, back and forth slowly, as a distress signal. It wasn’t quite dark yet, so Jumper wasn’t sure if it could be seen.

It was. The rotorcraft approached, lowered, and landed a short distance away. Everyone took off running for it. Jumper, Kayla, and Mulb9 lagged behind with Alan, who pushed off their efforts to help him along.

“Forget what I said,” Jumper said to Mulb9 as they boarded.

“About what?”

“Both things.”

“What were those?”

“Modern technology being unhelpful, and suggesting your senses may have been dulled.”

The rotorcraft wasn’t just a fortuitous circumstance. It had been sent out by Belle-ub to search for Jumper’s expedition. One reason Jumper knew Alan wasn’t yet feeling better was his failure to ask Jumper if he still refused to believe in prophets.

Another was that his skin turned pale as soon as he climbed on board and sat down. Jumper noticed this even in the dark, wide cabin of the rotorcraft. Good thing they’d be back at the village in a few minutes. Hopefully, these red Sheen would figure out was wrong with Alan and be able to fix him. Totlen6 had the pilot radio ahead that one of the Earthlings required medical assistance.

The rotorcraft landed next to Brandon’s shuttle at the south end of the village. Jumper could see three red Sheen standing and waiting for them. When the rotors stopped spinning and the cabin doors opened, two of them hurried over and helped Alan step down.

“Come with us,” one of them said to him. Alan didn’t resist their help and walked being held by them on either side. Jumper and Kayla followed right behind.

The other Sheen was Belle-ub, who remained standing off by himself.

“Jumper,” Belle-ub said as they passed. He waved for Jumper to come over. Jumper stopped, but Alan and the two other Sheen didn’t.

“Stay with him,” Jumper said to Kayla. “I’ll find you shortly.”

Kayla looked back and forth rapidly. She finally said, “Okay,” and followed Alan and the two Sheen.

Jumper joined Belle-ub, along with the rest of the expedition party. The rotorcraft took off again and flew towards the airfield on the north side of the village. Totlen6 introduced the mountain dwellers to Belle-ub.

“Which of you is the polwar champion?” Belle-ub asked.

One of them stood forward.

Belle-ub bowed. “Have the terms of the tournament been explained to your satisfaction?”

“If I win, the Sinlo Mountains will be left alone by your new confederation,” he said.

Belle-ub glanced at Totlen6 before responding.

“If this is the prize you seek, then yes—it can easily be arranged. Do you also understand that if you don’t win, you are committed to help provide the prize for the winner, to the best of your ability, should the winner’s prize request impose upon you?”

The Sinlo champion cocked his head. “What could anyone want from us—especially an alien race?”

“I agree it seems unlikely,” Belle-ub said. “But you must be aware the possibility exists, and agree to the terms, as must all entrants. It is conceivable the winning race could request timber from your mountains, or that a monument be built there, or even a village of mountain residences constructed as their prize.”

The Sinlo champion looked at the one Durmat1 had appointed as their political representative. He shrugged and agreed to the terms.

“Good,” Belle-ub said. “The interstellar tournament will take place the day after tomorrow. The play-in brackets will be conducted tomorrow, however. Each race is allowed one champion to play for them in the tournament. Therefore, some races will hold their own qualification rounds tomorrow in order to determine that champion—including the native Torians.”

Belle-ub turned to Totlen6 and Mulb9. “Show them to food and lodging, please.”

“Come with me,” Totlen6 said to the three Sinlo Mountain residents.

Mulb9 stopped and looked at Jumper. “Thanks for your help back there.”

“Likewise,” Jumper said, glancing at the Sinlo peaks on the horizon. Mulb9 smiled before rejoining Totlen6 and the mountain dwellers. The five of them were then consumed by the village.

Lakor5 and the driver were left standing with Jumper and Belle-ub.

“They offered resistance?” Belle-ub asked.

“Some.” Jumper rubbed his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. Also that your friend is hurt. Rest assured he is in good hands.”

“He might not be hurt,” Jumper said. “We’re afraid he might be …sick.”

Belle-ub looked concerned. “I realize the Earthlings are taught to distinguish between these, but in reality, there is no difference. The body is either healthy or damaged as a result of having come under some kind of attack. We will aide his body so it may fight off the attack and recover.”

“Thank you,” Jumper said. “Where’s Uncle Brandon?”

Belle-ub cocked his head for a second, but then straightened it. “Brandon, yes. I was not familiar with the designation you used. He stayed behind on space station business. I expect him to return before the tournament starts. In any case, I wish to thank you now for doing such a good job for me.”

“No need to thank me. I’m working for a price, remember? Speaking of which…”

Jumper was distracted by a red light slowly descending over the valley. Belle-ub turned to see what Jumper was looking at.

“Busy night,” Belle-ub said. “More visitors are arriving.”

“How many different races are playing in the tournament?” Jumper asked.

“We expect twenty-two entrants, including the three Torian races.”

Jumper whistled. “Wow. Nineteen alien races here at once. This is quite a historic occasion.”