Halcyon Nights (Star Sojourner Book 2) (23 page)

The early sun blazed down on an endless desert of ribbed red sand dunes and stark shadows that stretched to the horizons. This must be what Terrans on Halcyon called The Barrens. East of me lay a great expanse of ocean painted with morning strokes of sapphire and emerald and an occasional brush stroke of white frothing waves. I could see the curve of the planet from this height.

Surf's up.

I thought of my carefree teenage years before the hornet cub crash with Ginny. We'd been shuffled from one foster home to another, until the rootless life was the norm and we adapted to it. Perhaps that was one reason I stayed on Syl' Tyrria for five years and didn't think it was so unusual to leave Althea and Lisa behind on Earth.

Was I capable of settling down in one place anymore, or would I grow restless no matter where I was, and want to move on? I thought of Willa. Her large hazel eyes, her light brown glossy hair. Her boyish haircut and walk. She knew her place. It was on the ranch, surrounded by her animals. There was plenty of research for an astrobiologist to do on Halcyon, to say nothing of the Kubraens and Spirit. Blackroot alone could keep me busy studying its roots, so to speak, for years. Or running from them.

My route took me over Laurel. It was a small community with a pond in the center of town. I had no time for sightseeing but I noticed wide streets. A community shopping center was surrounded by a broad residential area, with horses in fields.

I soared over a factory, and ranches that produced cloned meat. Beyond, orchards, plantations, and farmlands, were enclosed by a high wall. Not to keep out the local flora and fauna, I surmised, but to prevent Earth imports from invading the indigenous life forms. A good idea, that.

The residents must have wondered who was this maniac who tore over their town, rattling store windows with the high keen of his engine.

The spaceport was a sprawling terminal with private crafts and intergalactic shuttles to the starships that waited at orbiting space-docking stations. Only the czar and his crystal miners marred this ideal Terran community on an ideal planet. Spirit had done a great job of directing the evolution of his world into a balanced ecosystem. And most humans honored the native life forms. There were worse places to live than on Halcyon.

Spirit. Am I still on course
?

Continue as you are.

Spirit sounded distressed. I decided not to ask why, but I found that I wanted to help rid the planet of its Terran ravagers. It would also close down Lost Vegas and its dons, which wasn't a bad idea.

Northwest now,
he sent.

I'm heading northwest.

Then north by northwest.

I corrected my heading and realized I was on a course set for Spirit Mountain. The location of the source- mine? God, that was where the Kubraens had established their new village! Had the czar landed among them? His ship was armed.

I tried to mindlink with Briertrush, but I drew a breath as chaotic links of many Kubraen minds came crashing through. I felt their terror, their pain from searing burns. I got the distinct sense that they were fleeing. I threw up mental shields so I could concentrate.

I knew that one war manta was capable of destroying an entire native village. But why would the czar take the time to do that? He wanted the powerful pink crystals, not revenge on the natives. Unless the village were an obstacle in his path to the mine.

I probed for the czar's thoughts and came up empty. He and his officer must already be inside the mine, and whatever encased Spirit's being might act as a tel shield. It didn't matter. I knew the czar's plan well enough. Strip the mine, grab as many pink crystals as his ship could carry, and head off-world. Damn him! Spirit would not allow that kind of desecration.
Spirit?
I sent.
Please, don't do anything rash.
He'd told me back in April's room that if he locked onto the czar's nervous system and unleased his incredible tel power, the electrical impulses would kill every Terran on Halcyon the way lightning destroys the human brain and heart.
I'm doing my best to stop him!

If your technology cannot destroy him, then I will. Know that he will never leave my world with my stolen blood.

I know.

Below, Spirit's river glistened like a quicksilver snake that meandered through green foliage in the afternoon sun.

Spirit?

Follow it north. The ravager cuts into my veins!

I'm sorry
. I felt his anguish.
I'm coming for him.
I checked the craft's missiles. Armed and ready. My stingler was fully charged.
Stay calm, Jules,
I told myself as my hands shook on the wheel.
Too much rests with you.

Time,
Spirit sent,
as you short-lived humans reckon it, is running out, and it may be the survival of your race on Tres Cruash against the continuance of my own.

I know!

The new Kubraen village lay below. Abandoned.

A few of the fibrin huts were burned to the ground and still smoldering. Their religious altar had been blown apart, probably by a missile. It was enough to send Spirit's people fleeing into the wooded mountain. And out of the czar's way.

The river narrowed and sank into a hollow cave entrance. I banked the manta and slowed.
Is that it?
Is that the entrance
?

Yes. It is the source from which I nourish my people.

OK, but are the czar and his officer in there?

They are, like a knife twisting within my heart.

I saw the tracks where the czar had landed in melted snow. They looped where he'd turned his craft around and backed it through the cave entrance. But even a compact personal manta would be a tight fit in that three-meter-wide opening. The craft was probably armed with everything he could stuff into it. Still, most personal air vehicles have about a thousand-pound payload, and crystals weigh.

I landed in mud and taxied under a grove of spiky trees with the scent of honey. I left the craft and had to part tight prickly branches to work my way out of the grove, but it hid the manta well.

The sickly sweet odor of blood wafted out from the cave entrance. Silver liquid laced with pink poured over my boots and soaked my feet as I sloshed through the thick stream that flowed from the cave. My legs tingled as I unholstered my stingler and headed into the dark, narrow tunnel.

But this was no tunnel. Walls of transparent tissue furrowed with blue veins glistened in my small light. A throbbing sound, almost below the range of the human ear, pulsed through humid air and vibrated ruby droplets off the layers of wall tissue. My light played on abrasions at about the height of a manta's stubby wings. Pink droplets seeped from the wounds. I touched an abrasion and the wall quivered beneath my hand. The czar had not thread lightly into Spirit's being.

I tripped over something and landed on my knees. I got to my feet quickly, dripping thick fluid, but still clutching my light. My hand tingled as I felt around in the warm ooze. My fingers closed on something soft and heavy. I pulled it up, shined my light and fell back with a cry. I had a human corpse by the shoulder of his uniform. The officer! Blackened skin and seared leather showed over the hole where his heart had been as he floated on his back and stared at nothing. I let the bulky man sink beneath the surface. His death gave the ravager perhaps the weight of twenty more precious crystals to pack into his manta, and no witnesses.

I peered ahead into darkness.
Spirit? Are you still with me?

The ravager is ahead of you. Hurry, Terran. He is wounding me to my very core. Only my compassion for the living prevents me from destroying him and your race with him on my world. But I cannot wait…time…much longer.

OK. I'm coming, Spirit. Can I use my weapon in here?

Only if you must.

What if it hits a wall?

I can recover from a wound. But not from the loss of what you call the life force.

I shined my narrow beam and sloshed ahead. It was like a bad dream where you try to run but can't. The murky air didn't hold much oxygen. It left me pulling in long breaths as I pushed hard against the flow of liquid. The stream turned red and thickened to sludge. Ahead, a left curve. The walls grew darker. A broken vein above me pumped out crimson fluid. Spirit was bleeding his life into the outgoing flow of his being.

He's coming,
Spirit sent.

What? In the manta?

He knows you're here.

Shit! I got down on one knee, shut off my light and aimed the stingler with both hands. I heard my own fast breathing in the silence.

How does he know, goddammit?

My crystals.

Oh. Great! Now he has tel powers!

He is ripping me apart… Oh, a thousand cuts. Hurry! I am gathering my powers, Terran.
Others would come for my blood, until…until…the end of continuance
.

Hang on, Spirit
. I extended the stingler.
As soon as he rounds that curve, he's a dead Terran.

The whine of a manta ahead. My hands shook.
Don't think about Lisa,
I thought.
Don't think about Laurel. Just don't fail!

I watched headlights bounce light off the wall to my right. The manta came around the curve like a giant black bat, wobbling and scraping into the delicate wall tissues, ripping into the web of veins with its wings. Shreds of dripping skin clung to its tail.

Spirit screamed inside my head. It shook me. The stingler wavered as I fired. The shot went wild and ripped a hole in the wall. I blocked out Spirit's agony as best I could as the manta pushed a bow wave and bored toward me. Forward Missile launchers leveled to my height.

Uh oh.

I took a deep breath and threw myself into the liquid, hoping there was enough clearance on the manta's underside. I heard the rockets whoosh by overhead. They must have gone harmlessly out the entrance because Spirit didn't react.

The manta drove above me as I clung to something hard, probably an embedded crystal, and flattened on the bottom. I waited for the manta to pass, but the slimeshit stopped above me. I raised myself until I hit metal.

Spirit! He'll drown me!

A bubble of air burst around me. I clung to the bottom and gasped in breaths that were misted with blood. I choked on it and coughed, but I knew I'd swallowed some of it.

The czar must've thought I was dead by then. His headlights probably didn't pick up the air bubbles in the churning liquid he'd created. I heard the engine deepen and then the sound faded and died.

I got unsteadily to my feet. The entrance was dark. A distant whine told me the crotefucker was airborne.

The shuttle
, Spirit sent wearily.
He heads for the vehicle you rode…you rode to the surface with the child. The shuttle from The Merchant Prince! I cannot allow –

I know, Spirit. You can't allow him off-planet with the blood crystals. I know!

The liquid slithered off me like mercury worms as I sloshed out of the tunnel and ran toward my hidden manta. I was dry!
I'm going after him, Spirit
.

Yes. I commend you for your efforts, though they may well prove futile for your people.

Just give me time. Terran time! I'll do the rest.
I heard mantas approach from the southeast. A diamond formation of four RECOIL war planes appeared low above treetops.
Oh no. Dammit!
Rache.

The help I'd wanted from RECOIL to stop the czar at the illegal launching pad was a hindrance here, at Spirit's secret core artery.

I shouldered through the spiky branches of the grove, got into my craft, started it and taxied out of the trees, ripping branches as I went.
Sorry about the branches,
I sent.

You are sorry about a few branches while more Terrans approach my being, the very essence of Tres Cruash!

OK. Don't get sulky.

I used all available cover, from giant trees to hills to escarpments, to hide from the mantas as I flew near ground level. The ground effect increased my speed and lift and I realized I was in plain sight as I passed a hillock.

The command ship, flying RECOIL's gold and purple flag, fired a shot across my bow. The message was loud and clear:
Land!

I did. And kept taxiing to put the mantas and Spirit as far apart as possible. Another shot across my bow implied:
You can stop now
.

I shut off the engine, opened the window, and sighed as I leaned back. The dry brush surrounding my craft had a bitter smell. They were bare, with fresh leaves on the ground. Had they died because of Spirit's trauma? ChristLotus, was the planet itself already dying? I had to admire Spirit's patience with us Terrans.

Yes. But not for much longer!

I know.

The four mantas landed around me in swirls of red dust. Indigo birds with transparent wings screeched as they flapped into the air. From somewhere in a rocky crevice a disturbed predator growled at the intrusion of his territory.

The taste of blood was still in my mouth and nostrils. It made me queasy.

I watched Rache disembark and walked toward my craft, flanked by two gorilla-sized guards, and felt even queasier. The other RECOIL soldiers, nine of them, I think, followed their commander until they were gathered around my craft. I stared toward the southern sky, where the czar had a clear path to Bjorn's shuttle and
The Merchant Prince
, if that were his destination.

RECOIL knows I'm a tel,
I sent to Spirit.
If Rache orders his people to leave, they'll figure the order came through my tel-link. Why not let Rache and his soldiers help me find the czar? If it's not already too late.

The blood crystals of Tres Cruash will not fall into any Terran's hands. Including yours.

Believe me, Spirit, I don't want them!

Rache still wore his hat, his scarf, and his dark glasses. I wondered if he slept in them. “Disembark the craft,” one of the gorilla guards ordered as they approached.