Arkadian Skies
“Tym?” Alisa asked.
Stanislav sighed. “My older brother. And the man currently wielding the staff.”
“That sounds like a name for a mouse, not a villain.”
“He believes himself divinely appointed as the rightful leader of humanity.”
“He sounds like a villain,” Alisa said. “Can we call him Terrible Tym?”
Leonidas frowned at her. Right, this wasn’t the time for inappropriate humor.
“It’s short for Tymoteusz if that sounds more dastardly,” Stanislav said.
“What do you mean people tried to entrap him?” Abelardus asked. “My people? At the temple? How?” He twisted the staff in his grip, looking like he wanted to crack the man over the head with it.
“It is, as I said, a long story. Could we discuss it en route?”
Alisa snorted. As if they could amble up to the Nomad and hop aboard. Thanks to her failed attempt at being clever, they had a huge problem to deal with. Why hadn’t she simply tossed the Tiangs’ earstars out into the ocean? For that matter, why had she insisted on taking them with her? Oh, she knew why, but Abelardus had been right. That had been a ludicrous thing to worry about at that time.
“Fine,” Alisa said, aware of all the men looking at her. “We’ll see how close we can get.” As she pulled out her comm, wanting an update from Beck, she asked Stanislav, “Do you want to walk or be carried?”
He eyed a snake hissing at them from the shadows of a nearby tree. “I suppose it’s too much to hope for a hover gurney piloted by a pretty nurse.”
“Leonidas is stronger than a hover gurney, and Abelardus can be pretty for you, if you want.”
Stanislav looked over at Abelardus, who was scowling.
“I believe he wants to beat me with my own staff,” Stanislav said.
“Yes, but he can do it prettily. He spends a lot of time grooming his braids and his eyebrows.”
I’m touched that you noticed, Abelardus spoke into her mind.
It’s hard not to. Nobody has eyebrows that perfect without using a laser touch wand. What do you make of this man? Alisa would have preferred to ask Leonidas for his opinion, but that was harder to do with Stanislav standing right there.
I don’t trust him. Do you?
No. Maybe if he had come up with a more dastardly sounding name for the asteroid kisser who took his staff, I would have.
I wouldn’t have. He’s got some powerful artifacts on him, if you want to search him at some point. He’s not nearly as helpless as he’s pretending to be. I bet there was a fight over the staff after they used it and learned that its potential isn’t mythological. And he came out on the bottom. Now he wants help getting to this Tymoteusz.
Terrible Tym, Alisa suggested.
That’s horrible.
“Given the meager options,” Stanislav said, “I believe I’ll walk.”
“Let’s do this then,” Alisa said, touching Leonidas’s arm and heading into the dark jungle.
Chapter 13
Flashlight beams appeared in the darkness ahead, creating eerie shadows among the leaves and fronds as they slashed about. Crunches and thuds sounded, many pairs of boots trampling upon twigs and damp, dead foliage. Engines rumbled above the canopy as the Alliance ships flew up and down the canyon, probing the jungle with their search beams.
“Getting a reading from this direction,” a male voice said.
Leonidas stopped behind a tree, using its bulk to avoid the flashlight beams occasionally pointing in their direction. Alisa eased in beside him. Farther back, Abelardus was helping the injured Stanislav maneuver through the rainforest. Or maybe he was prodding the man along with a staff.
“I’ve got something too,” a woman replied. “They can probably hear us. Cronk, Talus, get your rifles up here.”
To her surprise, Leonidas removed his helmet. He bent low to whisper in Alisa’s ear. “They’re all over in the direction we need to go. I’ll lead them away.”
Alisa gripped his arm. “We shouldn’t separate, and you shouldn’t put yourself in a position where you’ll have to fight.”
Maybe it was ludicrous to believe they could escape without fighting, but she didn’t want to hurt any Alliance troops. Or anyone. The plan had been for the Alliance to chase after the staff thieves, damn it. Why had she been so delusional as to think that would work?
“I’ll just run,” he whispered. “I’m fast.”
“Those aren’t the words a woman wants to hear from a man.”
It was too dark to see the confusion on his face, but she read it in the way he drew back slightly and didn’t respond right away.
“You know, in bed,” she added. Another time, she would have explained further, but Abelardus and Stanislav had caught up, and at least four flashlights were heading toward them from the other direction.
“I’ll lead as many away as I can. Join Beck, and let me know when you’re going to take back the ship.”
Take back the ship. As if it would be that easy.
“I think I see someone,” a soldier blurted.
A giant cat roared. Two men whirled toward the noise, firing orange blazer beams into the night. One hit a tree branch, and it exploded, raining bark in a dozen directions. The cat screeched, and foliage rattled as it fled.
“Nice job, sharpshooter,” the female soldier said. “That branch was going to beat the shit out of us.”
It was the strangest time for nostalgia, but Alisa experienced a twinge of it, nevertheless, missing the camaraderie of her army unit, missing being on the side of the right and the righteous. She hated feeling like—no, being—a criminal.
Leonidas started to pull away. Alisa knew she had to let him—there seemed to be a whole platoon tramping around between their group and the canyon—but she patted his arm and whispered, “Be careful.”
He hesitated, then brushed his lips across her cheek. “You be more careful. We haven’t gotten your armor yet.”
She hadn’t even ordered it yet. “Hard to get a delivery when you’re constantly flying. Fleeing.”
“I know.” He kissed her again, put his helmet on, and stepped around the tree and disappeared, as if he were a weightless wraith rather than a two-hundred-plus-pound cyborg in full armor.
He reappeared in seconds, crashing through the jungle and breaking every branch along the way as he cut across the platoon’s perimeter. Flashlight beams bounced off his red armor. He fired into the group as they started shooting at him. None of his blazer blasts found targets. They could have. Those people were in uniform but not combat armor—maybe they had thought the jungle confines too humid and tight for it—and Leonidas could have mowed half of them down if he wanted to. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell those people that, to tell them that he wasn’t the enemy. And neither was Alisa.
Shouts erupted along with the gunfire, and the soldiers chased after Leonidas as he turned east to follow the canyon downriver. Alisa knew from a brief conversation with Beck earlier that her people were hiding in a thicket upriver from the Nomad. She would lead Abelardus and Stanislav that way as soon as the way was clear.
“He’s going to be fast when he gets his cock fixed?” Abelardus murmured, coming up beside Alisa. “How disappointing for you.”
“Go bounce on your staff,” Alisa said, watching the canopy. It was growing darker, but she could see the search shuttles leaving the area to follow in the direction Leonidas had run. She hoped they didn’t risk firing into the jungle. In his armor, Leonidas could withstand some rifle fire, but blasts from a ship would be another matter.
“Easy, you’ll get me excited, and there’s not time right now.”
“I don’t believe that such coarse language is appropriate in a woman’s presence,” Stanislav said from behind them. “I’m also not overly fond of it.”
“A gentleman thief,” Abelardus said. “Who would have thought.”
“Let’s go,” Alisa said, ignoring both of them. “The rest of my crew is waiting an
d in danger of being found by search teams in the canyon.”
Not waiting for them to respond, Alisa pushed through the foliage. It was a lot harder without Leonidas there to clear the way, but they weren’t far from the edge of the canyon. Further, the soldiers trampling about had flattened large patches of the brush.
A touch to her shoulder made her stop just shy of stepping out from behind a tree to peer into the canyon below. She was trying to gauge where they were in relation to her ship and Beck’s hiding spot, but she paused to look back. She expected Abelardus. It was Stanislav.
“Two are coming,” he whispered.
She was glad he spoke out loud instead of delivering the message telepathically. She wasn’t ready for more people in her head. She didn’t even want Abelardus there.
I’m hurt, Abelardus said. There are two soldiers, part of a patrol watching the approach to the ship. I’ll try to convince them to turn around and check in the other direction.
A couple of seconds passed, and Alisa spotted the men with their flashlight beams. They paused, murmured something to each other, and turned to walk in the other direction.
Thanks, she thought.
If you’re thanking me for my steadfast companionship, you’re welcome, Abelardus replied, but they turned around before I did anything.
“The way is clear now,” Stanislav said.
Did he do something? Alisa asked.
Possibly. He wants a ride, remember. Apparently, he’d rather ride with you than the Alliance.
Alisa leaned over the lip of the canyon. There was a bend downriver, so she couldn’t see the Nomad, but she could see the glow of a lot of lights in that direction. She imagined soldiers stationed all around the freighter, five deep, all armed, and maybe with some nice shuttles hovering overhead too.
“That way,” she said, pointing upriver, toward foliage clogging the canyon. A couple of searchlights were visible, but nothing like the mess in the other direction.
She dropped to her knees in the loamy soil, turning so she could attempt a climb down. No matter where they descended, it would be at least a fifty-foot drop, and unless she turned on the light in her multitool, they would be groping in the dark. She poked one boot over the edge, probing for a foothold. Dirt slipped away before she lowered her weight.
“Pardon the intrusion,” Stanislav said, “but I may be able to help. I can see… here.”
An image popped into Alisa’s mind, startling in its intensity. She almost squawked, but the sound of voices from the opposite lip of the canyon reminded her to stay silent.
The image was of the canyon wall, the path down it as clear to her as if she were looking straight at it while all three suns burned in the sky. Then she saw her position at the top of the cliff, as if she were playing a holo game in the rec room, looking at her avatar from behind.
She climbed down, the dual vision awkward, but the footholds were exactly where they appeared in the image. She kept herself from muttering a thank-you, reminding herself that this man had broken into her ship and helped hurt Leonidas.
“I don’t need your help, Schwegler,” Abelardus said stiffly, his voice floating down from above as Alisa reached the bottom.
She winced at the noise, but the soldiers searching on the other side of the canyon had disappeared into the jungle again. Dirt rained down, preceding Abelardus’s arrival. Stanislav was slower to descend, even with whatever odd Starseer vision he had. He grunted, making pained noises as he maneuvered from handhold to handhold. When he reached the bottom, he grabbed his abdomen with one hand and bent over, his other hand on his knee.
“I’m rethinking my pride,” he said. “Being carried wouldn’t seem so humiliating now.”
“I’m afraid our porter is busy.” Reminded that Leonidas was out there, making a spectacle of himself and drawing fire, Alisa pushed her way through the tangled undergrowth and up the canyon. They couldn’t dawdle. As invulnerable as he often seemed in battle, even he couldn’t withstand the might of five ships and an army.
The rush of the water acted as their guide as they navigated the canyon. Before they had gone far, a boom came from the west, and white light flashed in the night sky. Men whooped in the distance. Many men.
Alisa tripped, barely catching herself as her gaze locked on the sky behind her.
“Leonidas?” she whispered.
She looked toward Abelardus, wanting to make sure Leonidas had made it, but she was afraid to ask.
“Keep going,” he whispered, nudging her, not answering her silent question. “His distraction won’t last for long.”
More whoops of excitement sounded in the direction of the original boom. They must have gotten him. What else could that noise mean? The bastards were tickled to have brought down an imperial cyborg. They had no idea how many times he had fired wide, letting them live when he could have killed them. They had no idea that he was honorable, that he didn’t deserve to be hunted down like an animal.
Alisa tripped again, this time not catching herself, and landed hard on one knee. Abelardus grabbed her and helped her up. She pushed him away and stomped up the canyon, too frustrated and angry to be thankful.
“They could have just captured him,” she told herself. “Injured him. Got him in a net. There’s still hope. If they have him, I’ll get him back.” She hadn’t kidnapped people to fix his problems only to lose him to this ill-conceived ridiculousness.
Her comm beeped.
“What?” she whispered, her thick throat making her voice hoarse.
“Is that you stumbling around in the dark over there?” Beck whispered back.
She heard his voice from the bushes as well as the comm.
“Yes.” She veered in his direction, not able to pick out shapes in the dark.
“Keep an eye on them, Mica,” Beck said over his shoulder and came out toward Alisa.
“The lowly security thug is not in charge of the chief engineering officer,” Mica whispered after him.
“You sure? I make more than you. I get actual pay instead of shares in nothing.”
“I have seniority.”
“Captain,” Beck said, turning toward her. “We have to get a flowchart up somewhere that establishes a rank hierarchy.”
“Later,” Alisa said. “We have to sneak back to the ship and hope to come up with a miraculous way to get inside and off the ground. Everyone all right here? Any trouble?” She looked toward the brush, where scuffs sounded.
“Just a bit. The coffee wore off, so we had to tie up our charges. And, uh, I may have destroyed their earstars. I was fairly certain they would be trackable through them.”
Alisa grimaced, but couldn’t disagree with the logic. Still, people carried their whole lives in those things. The Tiangs might object more to losing them than to being kidnapped.
“I helped convince them to stay quiet and trust us,” came a bright young voice from the brush. Ostberg. He sounded like he was having the adventure of his life.
Some grumbles of dissent followed his proclamation.
“Anyone have any ideas about how to get the ship back?” Alisa asked.
“Yes,” Stanislav said.
“Anyone else?”
Beck leaned past her, peering at Abelardus and Stanislav. She didn’t know how much he could see in the dark, but his armor ought to improve his night vision.
“Leonidas turned into a Starseer?” Beck asked.
“Not exactly.”
“Durant should be returned to sickbay as soon as possible,” Alejandro whispered from the bushes.
Leaves rustled, and Mica grunted in pain. “Ouch. So should our surly captives.”
“They’re not captives,” Alisa said. “They’re guests.”
“I don’t think they’re buying that anymore,” Mica said. “The woman has feisty elbows.”
Whatever Ostberg had done to them, it must have worn off shortly after the coffee had.
“I’ve had a thought,” Beck said quietly.
??
?Yes?”
“We use the Tiangs to bargain with. You haven’t been filling me in on everything, and that’s all right, because I’m just the security chef, but I gather these soldiers are all here to get them back, presumably alive.” Beck turned his back to the bush where it sounded like Mica was struggling with the captives. Alisa doubted Yumi, Durant, or Alejandro were causing that trouble. “So, we trade them for us getting to leave the planet safely. Or for us getting an escort to a post office in a civilized area where I can post my sauces. Those grubby thugs better not have molested anything in the mess hall when they were boarding the ship.”
“I appreciate you coming up with ideas that are only partially to save your future sauce empire, but I don’t want to threaten anyone, and that would be required if we walked out into the open with our guns at their throats. I didn’t even want… damn it, I wanted to befriend them.”
“Don’t think that’s going to happen unless you keep them dosed with coffee,” Beck said.
“There are jungle cats out there,” Ostberg said. “Maybe I can get into their minds and convince them to attack the soldiers.”
“Have you done that before?” Alisa asked, wondering exactly how many cats that would take. She didn’t like the idea of sacrificing animals to blazer rifles, but it was better than risking her people’s lives.
“Not… technically.”
If he’s taken the same classes I took as a boy, he’s controlled rats before, Abelardus informed her. Not quite the same thing.
“Let’s hold on to that idea for later,” Alisa said. “When we really need it.”
“All right,” Ostberg said, sounding only slightly disappointed.
A new shout came from downriver. It sounded like someone deliberately yelling into the jungle.
“Abelardus and I will lead the way back to the ship and try to think of something,” Alisa said. “Follow along with everyone else, Beck, and try to keep our friends from yelling out to their people. We’re going to have to set a fire or blow something up to distract the soldiers so we can get on the ship. And then hope for a lot of luck flying away.”
Leonidas would have been the perfect person to do that. Too bad he was already on a mission. She chose to believe that he was still doing that mission and had not been captured—or worse. She would not believe otherwise until she had proof.