Authors: Sara King
Joe’s attention
sharpened. “You? As in you
personally
?”
“I sought him out,”
Jer’ait said. “We talked.”
Every one of Jer’ait’s
groundmates stared at him.
“You…talked…to
Forgotten
?”
Flea finally whispered, obviously in awe.
Jer’ait made a dismissive
gesture. “It only confirmed things I already knew.”
“And then you captured
him?” Daviin demanded.
“He turned himself in,”
Jer’ait said. “Part of his conditions of surrender was that Congress give his
people access to basic entertainment and communication between each other.”
“And have they?” Joe
demanded.
Jer’ait gave him a long
look. “Not yet.
“That’s it?” Daviin
demanded. “All that, and it was just politics?”
“What else is war but
politics?”
Daviin flung a bone in
disgust. “The Geuji needs to die,” Daviin said. “He’s shed too much blood.”
Jer’ait seemed to
hesitate. “I’m not sure the blood he shed was entirely bad, Jreet.”
Daviin lifted his bloody
muzzle sharply. “Explain that.”
“He destroyed Aez…because
it was filled with religious zealots intent on spilling blood. Not even
subjugating—just spilling blood.”
“They would never have bested
the Vorans,” Daviin snorted.
“They weren’t interested
in warring other Jreet. They wanted the blood of lesser creatures, easy
pickings. I researched the Peacemaker reports off Aez before it exploded. The
moment the Dhasha accumulated on Neskfaat, the Aezi would have begun
slaughtering innocents.” Jer’ait glanced at the others. “Further, Rat is not
dead. The Geuji made some sort of pact with Mekkval—I’m still not sure if the
Dhasha knows it or not—and Rat and her team now work as a specialized unit for Mekkval,
hunting down and killing renegade Dhasha before they can start a war. Mekkval
faked their deaths, and used the opportunity to charge Rri’jan with attempted
murder. So far, they’ve killed four renegade princes, and when they are not
hunting Dhasha, Rat and her team are living a life of luxury on Kaleu.”
Joe, who had been barely
scraping by, having to feed himself and his Sentinel on a Prime Commander’s
pay, felt a pang of jealousy at the news. “What else?” he demanded. “There’s
more.”
This time, Jer’ait spoke
with great reluctance. “I researched the Dhasha princes Forgotten lured to
Neskfaat,” he said. “All but one were known traitors. Just one.”
Joe felt acid etch the
insides of his veins. “Bagkhal.”
“The one we killed. His
‘lieutenant.’ Yes.”
Joe knew that meant
something. Everyone else at the meeting knew it, too. But, from the sideways
glances and silence, no one had any idea what.
Tentatively, Jer’ait
said, “Joe, do you have any idea why…”
“No,” Joe snapped.
“For once,” Daviin said
softly, “I think I understand why Aliphei keeps the Geuji locked in the Space
Academy vault. Just one could bring down Congress.”
“But he hasn’t,” Flea
said. “Makes you wonder why not, huh?”
Bitterly, now, Joe said,
“How many of them
are
there, Jer’ait?”
“About five thousand,”
Jer’ait said. “Rri’jan was using them for leverage. Or so he thought.”
“And now?”
“Aliphei’s having them all
killed. He says Forgotten has proven the Geuji are too dangerous to keep alive,
and Rri’jan’s actions basically constituted a hostage situation. Should there
be any other Geuji out there, Congress can’t take the chance that another
Representative will decide to use them as a bargaining chip.”
Joe glanced out at the
farmland, troubled. “And Forgotten’s just letting it happen?”
“Forgotten is detained,
like the rest of them,” Jer’ait replied. “He’s on a ship docked at Koliinaat,
destined for Levren once his trial is over, and has been cut off from all
communication with the outside. There is nothing he can do.”
“After he confessed,”
Flea said, obviously disbelieving. “And got pardoned? Registered as a citizen
and everything? Tried to come clean?”
“Indeed,” Jer’ait said
softly.
“The Tribunal breaks
their word?” Daviin demanded.
“Mekkval objected,”
Jer’ait said. “Aliphei and Prazeil overrode him. Forgotten was
a…high-profile…target. They’d be furgs to let him go. His trial takes place
in a little over a rotation. The Regency is mustering its greatest lawyers to
build the case. They’re importing Bajna to crunch the numbers for them. After
that, he is sent to Levren, where he dies.”
Joe watched Jer’ait’s
expression carefully. Buzzing over to land on his shoulder, Flea cocked his
head at the Huouyt and said, “There’s something you’re not telling us.”
Jer’ait gave the Baga a
slow, reluctant nod. “I’m in a position to see and hear quite a bit. The whole
thing smells like Neskfaat did. I think this was the Geuji’s plan all along.”
“To kill his species?”
Joe was appalled.
“That, and to solve a few
problems before he disappeared.” Jer’ait’s purple eye was sad. “Once a turn,
a team is sent in to evaluate the captives. Aliphei keeps them in wretched
conditions, without light nor sound, nor any contact with the rest of the
world. There’s no way to free them from that place without the Tribunal’s
express permission. That means Aliphei’s permission. And Aliphei is intent on
keeping them as secluded as possible, to prevent any plotting amongst them.”
“So Forgotten wants them
to die,” Joe said. “All of them. Himself included.”
“He’s sent twelve agents
into the vaults to check on them. Every one of them has been a Jahul.”
“So?”
“The Geuji were not
fitted with electronic voices,” Jer’ait said. “They have no way of
communicating with anyone who enters their prison.”
“Except the Jahul,” Joe
said, eyes widening with understanding.
“Yes,” Jer’ait said, “And
every one of those Jahul were caught and interrogated afterwards.” He cocked
his head. “All but one of them betrayed the Geuji and all but one of them was
subsequently executed. The last one escaped. That was only a few weeks after
Aez. And here’s the odd thing. His empathy rating was off the charts. He
kept insisting the Geuji were miserable. Hopeless. That we were cruel to hold
them like that. Not one of the other Jahul even mentioned the prisoners, other
than to say they could forget they saw them. This one couldn’t stop talking
about them. Even drugged, it’s all he would say.”
“So you think this last
spy got back to Forgotten and told him what his people were
feeling?
”
Daviin demanded.
“Lacking any other means
of communicating with them, I think that’s a very real possibility.”
“And Forgotten decided to
kill them.” Joe did not sound happy.
“I think he’d decided to
kill them long before he blew up Aez,” Jer’ait said. “This just solidified it
in his mind.”
“There is a special level
of hell reserved for kin-killers,” Daviin said, obviously disgusted. “Like I
said before, this Forgotten needs to die.”
“He’s doing them a
favor,” Jer’ait said. “They’re going to remain imprisoned as long as Aliphei
lives.”
No one needed to voice
the fact that Aliphei was of a species that did not succumb to old age, and had
enough drugs, nanos, and bodyguards whenever he traveled away from Koliinaat
that accidental death wasn’t likely.
“Can we talk about Joe’s
brother now?” Flea demanded. “The Geuji is interesting, but right now, I’m
craving
cash.
”
Catching Joe’s frown,
Jer’ait said, “Flea believes your brother would be willing to relinquish a
percentage of his savings to his rescuers.”
“He will,” Flea said, “Or
I’ll glue him to the prison floor myself.”
Daviin’s head perked up.
“How much of a percentage?”
“In the
billions
,”
Flea said.
Daviin glanced at
Jer’ait. Jer’ait nodded.
Daviin’s eye-ridges
lifted in surprise. “We’ve wasted enough time. Joe wants to see his brother.”
He hurriedly ducked under the fence, leaving the mangled remains of the cow
behind. “Come, Joe. You must introduce us!”
Sam sighed as his jailors
returned. He couldn’t see them through the blindfold, but he could hear them.
Strange. I don’t remember that buzzing. Maybe they brought in somebody
new.
“Power outage?” he said,
grinning. Any setbacks for his interrogators gave him reason to smile.
“Yes,” a strange voice
said, above him.
Far
above him.
Sam was a tall man, and
he was standing, since they’d left him no chair. Whatever it was that now
shared the room with him must have brushed the ceiling.
Sam swallowed, realizing
they were going back into another intimidation routine. “What a shame,” he
said, trying not to act as spooked as he felt. “I hope nobody bumps his head.”
“Oh, they’ll manage.” A
man’s voice. He sounded amused.
They?
“Get moving, Sam,” the
‘tall’ voice said, though he didn’t sound so tall anymore. Eye level, and
behind him.
“Call me Samuel,” he
said. “Sam’s for friends and decent Human beings.”
“Funny. I seem to have
heard that somewhere before.” A third voice, flat, yet pitched with meaning
that Sam could only guess.
Sam edged forward a few
feet, then cocked his head. “Where is everybody? This hall is always filled
with people.”
“They ran screaming,” the
‘tall’ voice said.
“Careful,” the ‘flat’
voice said. “You’ll frighten the child.”
“I’m not a child,” Sam
snapped. “I’m seventy-one, you dumb fucks. The mod just makes me look younger.
And what the hell’s going on?” The buzzing sound was back, this time only ninths
from his face. “What the hell is that noise?”
“You know,” a tinny voice
said above the buzzing, “I think he looks like you, Commander.”
“If this is an attempt to
intimidate me, it’s not gonna work.”
A huge alien hand slapped
Sam on the back, claws digging painfully into his skin as it shoved him
forward. “Walk, Human. We’ll scare you later.”
“Promise,” the tinny,
floating voice said.
Sam settled into an
unconcerned gait, allowing the enormous hand to guide him. “Where are we
walking?”
“Out,” the tinny voice
said. “So we can interrogate you.”
“You’ve
been
interrogating me,” Sam snapped.
“Not like this, we
haven’t,” the Human said.
Sam felt a coldness
trickle up the base of his spine. There was something about that voice he
didn’t like. There was something about the whole
situation
he didn’t
like.
“Where is everybody?” he
demanded.
“They’re watching us walk
you out the front door,” the man said. “It’s actually pretty funny. I think
you scared them, Daviin.”
“No more than you did,
Commander.”
“You know, this is a
piece of cake compared to a crawl. At least the Takki would attack us.”
“They
did
attack
us,” the tinny voice said. “And then they stopped.”
“Cowards,” the ‘tall’
voice said. “When we’re done here, I should come back and make them all dance
on my tek for abandoning their duties so easily.”
The ‘tall’ gaoler shoved
Sam again, who had slowed as he puzzled over the conversation. It felt like getting
hit by a Congressional freighter. He let out an
oof
and stumbled, the
bones in his back creaking as he struggled to catch his breath.
“They’ve got a sooty
assignment on a sooty border planet,” the Human said. “What do you expect?
You think they’re gonna put their lives on the line for a poofy-haired,
smartass criminal?”
Sam’s feet stopped of
their own accord. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Move,” the tall voice
said.
“No,” Sam said. “I’m
staying here. Somebody help!”
Sam was a big man, a full
six-seven, but when the alien shoved him, he
moved.
“They’re not going to
help you,” the man said behind him. “Trust me. If you could see their faces,
you’d understand.”
“Hell,” the buzzing voice
said, “If he could see
anything,
he’d understand.”
The four of them laughed
at that. Sam began to get more and more spooked. More than anything, he
wanted the blindfold off. He really began to get scared when they pushed him
into the back of a
haauk.
“This is a trick, isn’t it?”
“You’re about to find
out,” the man said. He was sitting right beside him, and, from the way they
were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in the back seat of the
haauk,
Sam
guessed they were about the same height and build. He squirmed away from him
uncomfortably.
Sam became even more
nervous when he realized it was a big
haauk.
Made for transport. And,
whatever it was that was climbing aboard behind them was making the entire
thing rock like a toddler hopping on a swingset. Sam tried scooting back out
of the seat, but another large shape sat down beside him. The
haauk
began to move.
The buzzing grew louder,
until Sam felt something land in his lap. He flinched when he felt the thing
brush his balls through his prison overalls.
“So,” the buzzing voice
said. “Where’d you stash your money, Sam?”
“I’d tell him,” the man
said. “He’s had a really bad past six rotations.”
“Do you know how much
stuff
costs
on a ruvmestin planet?” Flea demanded. “I was going into
debt just to stay alive.”
Sam snorted. “I thought
we were talking about genetics and how I cracked your code.”
“Who wants to look like a
powder puff?” the man said. “I saw the pictures, but it’s even weirder close
up.”