Escape (40 page)

The commander smiled broadly, and his gray eyes glittered. All the red stars represented systems where his fleet of Union Leviathans were currently passing through.

Sereki keyed the display for a second overlay. Now over a hundred previously blue systems glowed orange
—
half of the frontier. These were the systems where the Leviathans had already been. A line of red divided the sea of glittering orange from the remaining blue. They were encroaching on the most densely-populated systems in the Union, and on Terra which lay at the far edge of Union space.

But one system that should have been red was blinking orange. The commander's smile faded, and he pointed to the blinking system, and said aloud: “Magnify.” The holomap zoomed in until he could see a great, wispy blue nebula with asteroids floating through it. Shrouded in the nebula was a planet, the only occupied planet in the system: Da Shon.

The commander of course knew what had transpired there, and what a miserable failure it had been. Da Shon's orbital defense fleet and one of his precious leviathans had obliterated each other in a heated battle which had begun there barely eight standard hours ago. He had instructed the admiral of that leviathan to sacrifice his vessel in an attempt to salvage the situation. The massive ship had taken the remainder of Da Shon's defense fleet with it in the resultant explosion, freeing the Leviathan's remaining interceptors to fly straight for the planet and accomplish their original mission. By now they were slowly diffusing through the populace, wearing whatever face seemed most innocuous, passing unnoticed and unmolested from population center to population center. Most would be none the wiser. Many wouldn't even remember their encounters
—
depending whether their memories could prove dangerous or not.

The commander's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. It had been a miscalculation on his part to send Admiral Augran's leviathan to an independent system. A distant part of Sereki's mind had warned him that it would be a mistake to impugn another government's sovereignty, but he had chosen to ignore it out of simple greed. Da Shon had over eight billion humans under the shield domes of its cities. Leaving a garrison there had been too much of a temptation to resist. Yet it was a mistake he couldn't afford to make twice.

Sereki spoke aloud to the computers in the tactical center: “Record a message.”

“Recording,” replied an inflectionless computer voice.

“To the leaders of our great rebellion: this is your fleet commander speaking, do not trespass in independently-controlled systems. Leave garrisons in Union space only. The others will be affected before long.

“Stop recording. Send message to the renegade fleet.”

“Sending message
 
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”

* * *

As Kieran walked through the deepening dark of Da Shon's night, he used the drawstrings to cinch his tunic more tightly about his waist and neck. A frigid wind was blowing, intermittently gusting across the rolling hills, which Lystra Deswin had explained were actually the ridges of old impact craters. Kieran had thought it was dark during the day, but now that the planet's short day cycle was over, and the cold blue sun had sunk beneath the horizon, there was nothing but the infinite blackness of a starless void to light their way. The Blue Flower Nebula obscurred even the brightest stars from the sky, and Da Shon's moon, an enormous asteroid which the planet's gravity had long ago snared from the Ring of Fire, was only barely visible as a dark, featureless silhouette.

The others followed quietly, their legs rustling through the pervasively long grass. Somehow, despite the darkness of the sky overhead, they could all see well enough not to stumble. They had lightrods tucked into their satchels, but none had found the need to use them. The glare from the rods actually reduced their natural ability to see in the dark, which was curiously better than expected. None was willing to admit it, but they had each thought it more than a few times:
“When their eyes changed colors, until they glowed red like blood, they were not concerned because they could see better than ever before.”

But Kieran was concerned. All of them were.

Lystra Deswin had had less luck negotiating the darkness. He had begun the journey, even before night had fully fallen, by leading the way with a primitive torch which he fueled with grass that he'd pulled and soaked in a clay pot of tar. Kieran had offered Lystra his lightrod, but the old man had declined. Apparently, even though he'd seen his technophobic order fail to prevent what he called the second great rebellion, Lystra Deswin was not in a hurry to abandon his beliefs.

Old ways die the death of a thousand suns,
Kieran thought.

The wolvin mounts they had been promised to expedite their journey had so far proven elusive. But they had only been walking for about an hour. Lystra Deswin periodically whistled for them, not the three sharp notes of before, but a two-note tune, which sounded distinctly to Kieran like a horn call. Ferrel was nevertheless unconvinced that Lystra wasn't calling the wolvins to finish them off, and when he wasn't taking turns carrying Dimmi, he kept his pistol drawn. At the moment, however, Ferrel and Jilly were carrying Dimmi between them. She hadn't awoken yet, but she had stirred a few times, and just a few minutes ago she had mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep. Having heard her, Lystra had warned them that she was close to waking.

Abruptly, Lystra whistled again. As before there was no sign of the wolvins.

Then Kieran heard them: high, keening howls, dozens of them.

“Did you hear that?” Kieran asked.

Jilly turned her head to regard him with eyebrows raised.

No,
she thought.

“I didn't hear anything either,” Ferrel replied.

“It sounded like wolvins howling,” Kieran said.

Ferrel shook his head. “You're imagining it, man.”

Lystra Deswin whistled again
—
another two notes that were quickly swallowed by the night.

The wolvins howled in answer, and Kieran stopped walking. “I definitely didn't imagine that.”

Ferrel also stopped, forcing Jilly, was carrying Dimmi's legs, to stop, too.

“What?” she asked.

The boy turned in a slow circle, searching. “I think I heard them.”

“Are you sure? I didn't hear anything.”

Kieran nodded. “They're coming closer.”

Up ahead, Lystra Deswin stopped and turned to shine his torch in their direction. In the yellow-orange glow of the flames they could see the old man's brow lift curiously.

“Are you certain? I did not hear
—
”

Lystra was cut off in mid-sentence by another series of howls, much louder than before. Both Jilly's and Lystra's heads snapped toward the sound.

“It would seem you are correct. Come
—
” Lystra gestured to the top of the hill they'd been climbing. “
—
let's meet them at the top.” With that, the old man resumed walking with renewed gusto and gave another two-tone whistle. The wolvins responded with a series of long, mournful howls that sent shivers skittering down Kieran's spine. He hadn't forgotten his last encounter with the beasts. And this time
—

Kieran removed the deuterium pistol from his belt.

—
he wasn't taking any chances.

When they crested the hill, they stood at the top, peering down the other side, their breaths coming in an easy rythm of damp, white mist. Jilly and Ferrel lay Dimmi in the grass and drew their pistols. Of the four of them, only Lystra Deswin appeared winded from the climb.

Kieran peered down the other side of the hill, into the shadowy night. For a moment he thought he could see the shadows moving, and the long, marching carpet of grass parting unevenly in the wind. A moment later, he
knew
what he'd seen.

“Here they come.”

It took a minute for Ferrel to see what he meant, and several more after that before Jilly and Lystra saw them. By then, the wolvins were upon them, growling and pacing with ill-contained menace.

“They don't sound very friendly!” Jilly said.

“No Shakra,” Ferrel replied, keeping his pistol pointed at the black and white-furred mountain of fur and muscle that was pacing in front of him.

“Don't shoot! I recognize this pack. It's one of ours. They won't attack, but they are hungry, and they can smell that we have food,” Lystra said. “In your satchels you'll find an old chunk of dried meat wrapped in a piece of cloth. Use it to coax one of the wolvins closer and distract him while you put the saddle on.” Having said that, Lystra staked his flaming torch into the ground and withdrew both the saddle and cloth-wrapped meat from one of the two satchels slung across his shoulders.

Kieran was the first besides Lystra to fish the saddle and meat out of his satchel and approach the wolvin nearest to him. The massive, gray-furred beast stopped pacing and eyed him with yellow eyes narrowed to curious slits. Kieran carefully unwrapped the piece of meat and showed it to the animal. It took a cautious step forward and growled again.

Kieran almost flinched away, but then he remembered having torn three wolvins apart with his bare hands and he held his ground. These animals were larger than him, but somehow, he was stronger.

The animal put another paw forward, sniffed the air
—

And gave a sudden lunge for the meat. Kieran barely let go before his hand was taken with it. In pure reflex he leapt away from the animal and watched it begin tearing bites off the tough hunk of meat. His mouth watered at the sight, and for an irrational moment he was tempted to wrestle the meat away from the wolvin. Instead he reached into his satchel and removed a small pad of hard animal hide with a sharp rise fore and aft and ropes and buckles dangling from it. He cautiously approached the animal with the saddle, and heard Jilly gasp behind him.

“Be careful!” she said.

I will,
Kieran thought back.

He took another shaky step forward. The wolvin appeared wholly intent on his meal, and didn't notice. Then Lystra Deswin appeared and snatched the saddle from him.

“Don't be so timid, boy. They can sense your fear. If you are afraid of them, they might just think they can make a meal out of you.” The old man approached the animal, slung the saddle quickly and smoothly over its back, and cinched it around the beast's gargantuan chest and neck in two quick movements. Kieran's wide eyes slipped sideways, and he saw that Lystra's wolvin was already saddled. After he'd finished with Kieran's he moved on, taking the packages of dried meat from Jilly and Ferrel in turn, tossing them to the remaining wolvins and then saddling them. Finally, he withdrew a package of meat from the second satchel he carried and saddled a final wolvin
—
five in all.

They looked on in wonder, not only at the old man's fearlessness, but to see that the wolvins were so well-behaved. None tried to take a piece of meat from another; each waited their turn to be fed. When all four were saddled and Kieran realized that there were two wolvins left without saddles (and more importantly, their own hunks of meat) he feared that a fight would break out. But Lystra had already accounted for the possibility and withdrew a few extra packages of meat from his satchel and tossed them to the remaining wolvins.

Lystra turned from feeding the wolvins and nodded to the others. “You better mount them before they finish their dinners.”

Kieran nodded, but hesitated. “Maybe you should show us how first.”

“If you wish.” Lystra dropped Dimmi's satchel in the grass, unslung his rifle, and secured his own satchel to his back with both shoulder straps. He started toward the first wolvin to be fed and saddled, an enormous tan-colored beast. Upon reaching the animal, he tucked his rifle into a short holster dangling from the side of the saddle, then placed both hands on the saddle and vaulted smoothly onto it, as if he'd been doing that his whole life.

And perhaps he had.

Lystra took hold of two long straps which dangled loosely from the harness around the beast's neck. He wrapped the length around his hands a few times to get a good grip, then peered down at the beast's meal, to see if the wolvin were done eating. A few seconds later it was, and Lystra tugged on the right strap. The wolvin's massive, drooling head came up and turned right, toward the others. Kieran watched the beast lick its blood-stained lips, and Lystra spoke:

“Tug the left strap to go left, the right to go right. Pull both to stop, and squeeze your legs around his ribs or give him a gentle kick to get him moving.”

Jilly nodded. “Just like riding equiliae on Sylica.”

Ferrel swallowed noisly, and eyed the black and white-streaked beast nearest to him. “What about Dimmi? She won't be able to ride until she's awake, and even then
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” Ferrel wasn't sure how much luck they'd have convincing her to do so. She was in for a rude shock when she finally woke up.