Chronicles of Kin Roland 1: Enemy of Man (11 page)

Kin hurried to follow Bear, who put on a sudden burst of speed. When he came to the rocks Bear had been holding, he understood why the man was in a rush. Over the years, wind and rain had exposed several toxic minerals used to make fuel for space travel. The metallic portions were slippery and he could smell sulfur and other chemicals under the surface. This was also the reason the walls around the valley were steep. The entire rock face was likely to slide to the bottom at any moment. Today might be safe, but eventually this wall would come down. He made a note of the deposits and urged Rickson across to safety where all three of them rested in a shallow cave full of bird droppings.

“You didn’t tell me about the mineral deposits,” Kin said.

Bear smiled. “I bet your Fleet would like that. Maybe you can trade the information for your freedom.”

“Maybe.” He doubted the Fleet would bargain for what they could easily take once they found it. Even now survey teams were scouring the area around Crater Town for fuel.

“What are you talking about? Why would the Fleet want Kin? He hasn’t done anything, besides being a big pain in their ass by running off to chase a demon,” Rickson said.

“I was in the Fleet a long time ago,” Kin said. “There are some unresolved issues I hadn’t thought to worry about on Crashdown.”

“Like what?” Rickson asked.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”

They climbed down, fingers raw and muscles aching by the time they reached the bottom. Kin wouldn’t have cared if the wolves were waiting for them licking their chops. His forearms were engorged and his hands trembled. He motioned for Bear and Rickson t
o remain quiet.

The trees in this area didn’t seem tortured by the
bristling pelts of passing wolves. Animal trails led to water. Birds chirped. Insects droned.

Less than an hour later, Kin and his companions
emerged into a meadow full of flowers. It reminded him of Becca.

She had desperately wanted to ride a horse. Kin had taken her to a place much like this meadow to teach her, long before volunteering for Hellsbreach. He wished he could go back to that day. For a dangerous moment he imagined her walking next to him, when he should’ve been watching for the wolves.

“There are my girls,” Bear said, approaching the horses, soothing them, and then feeding them from his pouch.

“Try to keep them quiet,
” Kin said. “I’ll watch for wolves until they’re ready, but we need to move quickly.”

Bear gathered the four horses and put them on a line.

“Why can’t we ride them now?” Rickson asked. His voice waivered as he looked around the meadow. Kin was glad to see the boy’s response. He sensed the danger. That might keep him alive.

“I don’t have time to examine them. No use riding a lame horse,” Bear said. “Take this rope, Rickson. You’ll lead two and I’ll lead two.”

The wolves began to howl from every corner of the valley.

“Go. I’ll catch up,” Kin said. He waited until Bear and Rickson had a head start before following. He saw the pack charging across the valley. Pairs of wolves joined the pack at each intersecting
path or stream until thirty of the monsters fought for the lead, bumping each other and snapping teeth. Smaller animals scrambled out of their path, unheeded by the carnivores.

Bear ran with su
rprising swiftness, urgently waving for Rickson to pass him. Kin quickly searched for other wolf packs, but it seemed they had joined together for the kill.

He spotted the waterfall in the distance. As the wolves broke across the meadow, Bear and Rickson pulled the horses along a streambed less than fifty meters from the sheet of w
ater. The horses balked near the thunderous deluge of water. Kin sprinted forward, shoving one of the horses into the cave and a light at the other end. Bear and Rickson followed with the others.

“Will the wolves come through the water?” Kin asked.

Bear’s face went pale. Apparently, he hadn’t thought of that.

“Go!” Kin shouted, as the first wolf burst through the water, snarling like a rampaging dragon.

Kin shot it three times in the face, forcing it back. He shot the second and the third that came through before he had to reload and retreat. Only a dozen could fit into the cave at once, eleven too many for Kin to handle. Bear ran back in, smashing a wolf in the face with his axe. The animal recoiled but didn’t die. One of its eyes hung out of the socket as it snarled.

“Fall back,” Kin said. He didn’t raise his voice and didn’t rush backward into the narrowest space of the tunnel. The wolves stalked forward. Kin shot the wounded wolf in his good eye and watched the carcass fall. Another took its place. Kin shot that one as well.

“They’re thinking about it,” Bear said, holding his huge axe in both hands as he spread his feet in a wider stance.

Kin identified the most likely alpha wolf, since the original leader had probably died first. He stared at the wolf and lowered his pistol.

The wolves snarled but didn’t advance.

“You first,” Kin said. “I think they’re going to let us go until they settle their hierarchical issues.”

“I don’t like it,” Bear said, hesitating.

When Kin said nothing, Bear slowly retreated. The wolves growled and watched Kin, but none challenged him. When his friend was th
rough the tunnel and out of hearing, Kin turned and walked out. He was ready to spin and fire his pistol until it was empty, but the wolves only crept after him making angry sounds.

Once out of the cave, Kin saw Rickson
and Bear waiting a hundred meters up the trail. He waved at them. “Keep going. I’ll follow.”

He holstered the pistol, striding up the incline, pretending confidence, hoping the wolves would see him as an alpha. He knew even if his plan worked, it would be temporary. He didn’t dare look back. Once they saw him hesitate, or doubt himself, it was over. The hike to the top of the trail took a long time and he was exhausted when he finally stopped.

“I can’t believe that, Kin! You should’ve seen them creeping after you. They didn’t know what to think,” Rickson said. He stood on the trail brandishing his staff.

“Don’t challenge
them,” Kin said.

“They can’t see us.”

“You can’t see them. There’s a difference.” Kin accepted a wineskin from Bear and drank deeply. He gathered his reserves. “Let’s move. We’ll have to circle back several miles before I can pick up Droon’s trail.”

Bear and Rickson stared at him. Kin realized his mistake immediately. Knowing the name of a Reaper was considered bad luck in any culture.

BEFORE the wolves, Rickson and Bear had been adversaries. Kin had been the link betwe
en them. Over the years, Kin watched out for the orphaned shepherd, occasionally watching his flock when he was sick or wanted to attend a town festival. The boy wasn’t loved by town children his age. He was, essentially, an outsider, spending his time tending the flock.

Rickson endure
d physical hardships, loneliness, and hunger as well as a grown man, yet, he was a boy and longed for the companionship of friends. Kin marveled at the way Rickson could strike up a conversation with both children and adults, telling stories that enraptured his audience, whether it was a lone plow maker or company of traveling adventurers. But no matter how popular his stories were with kids his age, they adhered to their social cliques.

Kin visited Bear for the same reasons.
The mountain man never talked what happened to the others aboard his ship. When Rickson asked about it, Kin, not for the first time, guessed it was a tragic tale. Bear and Rickson had such similar personalities that they inevitably clashed, argued, and avoided each other’s company. Since hearing Kin speak the name of the Reaper, they had banded together like superstitious cavemen who feared a wandering wizard.

Kin took his meager travel ration and sat on a rock where he could see them talking by the fire. Bear told a story. Rickson interrupted frequently, shaking his head in disbelief. They would be good friends. It was for the best.

He finished his meal, then descended to the small campfire. Seven of the largest moons were visible, reflecting more light than usual. He could see for miles. The wormhole expanded like a jellyfish over the western sky, but had dimmed. Not a single flash of lightning illuminated the anomaly.

Rickson laughed, shaking h
is head at something Bear said.

“Kin, I know why Bea
r never comes to town. Women would swoon over him. By my latest count, he has seven wives!”

Kin smiled, thinking the number was interesting, since there were seven moons in the sky.

“And I loved every one,” Bear said. He tipped a skin of mead to his lips. He kept to wine during the day, but mead was always his favorite drink at night.

“Just like Kin loves Laura,” Rickson said.

“Boy, he doesn’t love her. He’s afraid of her.”

“What? That’s crazy. He visits her every day, sometimes two or three times a day,” Rickson said.

“Town business.” Bear’s serious expression was unconvincing, since he started smiling even as he spoke the words.

Rickson laughed.

Kin shook his head and removed his pistol from the holster. He unloaded it and cleaned it carefully, wishing he had picked up his shell casings in the cave. Recasting bullets was easier than fabricating shell casings and primers with his limited tools.

Rickson moved near, always interested in Kin’s weapons, though he had asked every possible question about them a hundred times already.

“Everyone knows they’re in love. Laura has given a tongue-lashing to more than a few town women who made eyes at Kin. I wouldn’t want to get between Kin and her. They fight like an old married couple…”

“Foreplay,” Bear interrupted.

“…and make up like star-crossed lovers,” Rickson finished.

“Lad, you are back to lust. Laura is jealous because that
’s just how she is. Everything belongs to her. Just ask her. And she knows Kin is still a Fleet trooper at heart, a girl in every port, or every cottage as it were.”

“You’re drunk, Bear,” Kin said. His friend half stood from his rock and grabbed Rickson’s arm, purposefully ignoring Kin’s warning glance.

“Listen, boy, a man doesn’t have to love a woman to lie with her. Ask Kin. The entire act from start to finish is nothing more than lubrication and friction!” Bear said.

“Then why do they call them love songs instead of sex songs?” Rickson asked.

Bear sat on his rock and promptly fell off it laughing. Rickson tried to help him up, but laughed drunkenly until he couldn’t breathe.

Kin finished his weapons and put them away.

Bear and Rickson caught their breath, wiped their eyes, and sat close to Kin.

“Tell us about love, Kin,” Bear said.

Kin rubbed his neck, then stared at the moons and the stars as his friends nudged closer, giggling like boys.

“I was in love a long time ago,” Kin said, surprised that he wanted to talk about it.

“What happened?” Bear said, leaning close with wide eyes and a visible effort to control his mirth. Rickson leaned in, nodding encouragement.

“Hellsbreach,” Kin said, his mood changing instantly.

“Oh, no.” Bear started laughing with Rickson, though it wasn’t clear to Kin what prompted them to snort and hold their hands over their mouths. They began cavorting around the campfire. For a moment, Kin thought they were still mocking him, but he realized they were trying to catch a hopper bird.

The sight of the bird was like a kick in the gut. He’d been waiting for news of Orlan and the summons that would follow. Orlan, without doubt, would identify him and demand his execution. There was a good chance the process had already been put in motion, because the only rational explanation for Commander Westwood’s lack of interest in the Reaper was the existence of an escaped traitor who he considered a greater danger. Given the severity of Kin’s crime, the Reaper could wait. The entire planet could burn before the Fleet would allow Kin to escape again.

“Let it go,” Kin said.

Bear jumped and grabbed with both hands but missed. He came down on Rickson who was also chasing the bird and they tumbled toward the fire.

“Let it go!” Kin said as he pulled them away from the sputtering flames.

The bird landed on his shoulder. “Kin. Sexy Kin,” the bird squawked. He grabbed it and looked into its beady eyes.

“Sexy Kin!” Rickson groaned.

Bear held his gut with both hands as he laughed.

Kin removed the note, then sent the bird away. It returned immediately for food and a return message. Kin swung and missed the agile creature.

“Awake. Awake. Kaw,” the bird said. Kin pulled a piece of dried meat from his pack and fed the bird, but it still didn’t leave.

“What does the note say?” Rickson asked.

Kin stared at the note, crumpled it, and tossed it aside. “Nothing that is going to help us. Get some sleep.”

His friends ignored him. He went up the trail to stare across the mountains and valleys between him and the coast. The ring of moons arched over the world, diming the stars but not hiding them entirely. The ocean was calm and silver in the moonlight for as far as he could see. He thought he could walk straight across the smooth surface and climb the curtain of night to reach the wormhole that seemed almost dead. Purple blotted out the usual orange and red color and looked flat, a bit like a clinger sucking blood out of a corpse.

He turned to watch Rickson and Bear pick up the note. They’d enjoy it. Laura disguised her messages as dirty love letters, packing a lot of meaning in few words. But, they wouldn’t miss the last sentence that commanded him to surrender himself to Fleet authorities immediately. In the morning, he would discover how good his friends were.

“Kin,” Bear said as he approached. Rickson was with him, but was silent.

“I don’t know about Rickson, but the Fleet means nothing to me. They aren’t going to rescue us unless they need a bunch of half-starved refugees filling the holds of their ships.

“We should know why they want you. That note made it sound like helping you would get us hanged,” Bear said.

“It will get you hanged,” Kin said, looking across the mountain landscape and distant ocean. This world wasn’t his friend, though it was softer and kinder than Hellsbreach, especially the Hellsbreach he left behind.

The nuclear warheads hadn’t been his doing. Fleet engineers had placed them deep in the ground to break the planet apart. More than a thousand Titan Class Battlecruisers had shelled the place for six months prior to the first assault, destroying all but the most tenacious species that dwelled on the Reaper home world. His job had been to finish the destruction or die trying.

“We went to Hellsbreach to exterminate them,” Kin said.

Bear shrugged. “Extermination isn’t as easy as people think. There’s always a seed that grows from the ashes.”

“There weren’t supposed to be any ashes,” Kin said. “The Fleet wanted the planet reduced to an asteroid belt.”

“They don’t think a Reaper can survive on an asteroid?” Bear asked.

Kin shook his head. “You don’t understand, Bear. The Reapers were just murderous beasts that sometimes crossed paths with humanity. Now they have a feud with us. They’ll rise again and bring a war we can’t win. We taught them how to make weapons and form armies. We taught them how to exterminate an entire race. The Fleet knows some Reapers survived. They reported otherwise, but they know.”

“How do you think my people died?” Bear asked. He looked east. People who explored inland never returned. Bear pointed, no longer intoxicated. His hand trembled as his face turned red.

“Reapers, thousands of them. They came through the wormhole in stolen ships. Others just fell out of the sky. I went to make sure they all died. My family and the other families who survived when our ship crashed told me not to. My wife begged me not to go, but I had to find out. I thought they would come for us if I didn’t do something.”

“Did they come?” Kin asked.

“They came while I was gone,” Bear said.

Kin waited for his friend to compose himself before he spoke again. “How do you know Reapers killed them?”

Bear dug in his shirt and pulled out a leather cord. “I found this.” He handed a long claw to Kin.

The Reaper claw rasped on Kin’s palm when he turned it. Most people believed the bones of a Reaper were poisonous or cursed. His friend had been carrying the talisman for years and had avoided becoming part of Crater Town as though his presence would doom the place.

Kin thought about the story. If true, there had to be a reason the Reapers hadn’t descended on Crater Town and the smaller settlements in the area. The only explanation that came to mind did nothing to sooth his nerves. If such a force existed and hadn’t come this far, it was because something worse was out there.

“Maybe if you had done a better job, my family would be alive,” Bear said. “But I don’t know and I don’t want to know. You said the Fleet is trying unusually hard to get off this planet. Maybe they know something you don’t.”

Kin considered it. A single Reaper w
ouldn’t be much of a threat if the Fleet believed a hive of the monsters lurked on the other side of the mountains. The idea appealed to him, but it didn’t feel right. If Commander Westwood believed an army of Reapers existed, he would build fortifications and train the townspeople to fight. All of his tanks would form into echelons with forward observers and flanking units of armored vehicles and infantry companies. Commander Westwood was aware of a danger he wasn’t sharing with the people of Crater Town, but Kin couldn’t believe the menace was a Reaper uprising that had him repairing ships as fast as his engineers could steal the parts.

“Bear, look at the ocean,” Kin said. Something was wrong with the night. At first, he thought talking about lost love and Hellsbreach had merely ruined his mood. But it was more than that. Ever since the Fleet and Droon’s craft arrived, things had changed. Noticing changes in the wormhole was easy. Detecting a change in the ocean was more difficult.

The big man stepped to the ledge, gazing across the world. Night birds erupted from the tip of a mountain, forming a cloud that wandered south like migrating bats. They watched the birds and infrequent clouds. Kin stared toward the ocean and thought of Clavender’s people flying toward the wormhole.

“Was it like that before the Reapers came?” Kin asked.

Bear didn’t answer immediately. “No. It’s never been like that. It seems as though the entire ocean is sliding off the edge of the planet or down a whirlpool, except the surface is convex rather than concave.”

Kin saw his mistake immediately. Some aspect of the ocean had changed and he hadn’t seen it at first, because every ocean he had ever seen had been slightly convex, owing to the curvature of the world. But Crashdown’s ocean seemed completely flat until now. The planet was huge. The curvature of the horizon wasn’t normally obvious to the naked eye, but now the ocean seemed to be pushing up. He would never have seen it without reason to stare at it.

“The wormhole is strange also,” Bear said.

His rustic manner slipped away for a moment and Kin could imagine him as the captain of a starship. He stood taller and his words were straightforward and concise. Kin noticed the wormhole’s change as soon as the Fleet passed through, but that wasn’t unusual. It was the strangest thing he had ever seen and
sometimes made sounds that could drive a person mad. When it wasn’t rumbling distant thunder, it left noise in his head. He knew he wasn’t the only one plagued by the psychic droning. Everyone from Crater Town had a wormhole headache from time to time.

“We should take turns keeping watch,” Kin said. “And get some sleep. The Reaper will be moving fast.”