Koban: The Mark of Koban (78 page)

“Ethan,
this is Uncle Tet.” The unnecessary introduction made the nervous boy utter an
involuntary spasm of laughter. He’d known Mirikami’s voice his entire life. “I
heard you say you have a captive warrior. Lift him up and use his hand, or hold
him near the keypad and you press either the top two left keys or the top two
right side keys. One of those should open the hatch.”

“I already
tried the normal open codes, Uncle Tet.” He sounded a lot younger now than he
did when he went to war a short time ago. His cherished cat “sister” was
inside, possibly hurt.

“Just
follow the instruction I suggested. I’m on my way from the Clanship. I can open
their doors and operate their equipment, and I think your dad can too. If it
doesn’t open, I’ll be there soon.”

Carson
bodily lifted the Krall by his belt, who could stand only on one leg because of
the shattered kneecap. It made a swipe at him with the hand talons of the
unwounded arm. The boy was expecting and prepared for such an act by the Krall.
As the arm came up and the talons lengthened, Carson grabbed the arm, lifting
it until horizontal, twisted it so the palm was up, arm fully extended, whirled
to face away and savagely pulled the hand down, swiftly snapping the Krall’s
arm at the elbow on top of Carson’s shoulder. It had taken less than a half a
second. Carson spun back before the warrior had time to react to more than the
sudden pain of the break.

Turning
the Krall to face the hatch, he reached under the warrior’s higher armpit and
pressed the keys Mirikami had suggested. The sound of the hatch motors and the
door unsealing caused him to back away and hold the Krall up as a shield, his
feet off the ground. “Get behind us Ethan, let this turd catch any bullets.”

Both boys
drew their guns. Carson his left pistol and Ethan drew both, aiming around each
side of the Krall’s body, dangling from Carson’s upraised right hand. However,
they both forgot to coordinate this with Kobalt via a quick frill, and he
surged under the hatch even before it was open enough to pass his body. He forced
it higher with his shoulders and entered with a roar that went silent quickly.

That
sudden cut-off of an attack roar left Ethan with a chill. He dropped down to
see under the hatch, which to his heightened nervous system, appeared to rise
at a glacial rate. He could see the haunches of Kobalt, who was in the aisle
between posts, which Krall held onto when flying. It wasn’t until he shoved his
own head through the partly raised opening that his hearing picked up two
ripper’s deep purr equivalents.

Kobalt was
touching neck frills with his sister, who was standing astraddle a Krall, with
only scraps of its shredded blue uniform evident. The extensive deep scratches
all over the warriors body was testament to its rough undressing. As Ethan
leaped inside, the improving light revealed a few scrapes and cuts on Kit, but
he saw nothing like a serious injury. He made his way around Kobalt, through
the forest of support post for warriors, to touch Kit’s frill.

Ethan
discovered she was sharing mind images with her jealous brother, passing him
what they both clearly considered some of the finest “tasting” terror and fear
sensations either of them had ever experienced. The largest number came from
this Krall in particular, but Kit had already shared some from the pilot she
had killed. Frill exchanges moved thoughts and images at lightning speed via
the superconducting nerves. Ethan caught up in seconds as Kit repeated them for
him, and Kobalt looked at him resentfully. Kit had a kill, and Kobalt only had
second hand thrills. He was pissed off he hadn’t been allowed to kill the red
one outside.

Carson
joined in, and they all went through them one more time in a few seconds,
Kobalt looking at the warrior his “brother” still held gripped by a weapons
belt. When Carson realized Kit was OK, he’d let Ethan spend some time with her
alone.

The
stubborn Krall he held was a slow learner, and Carson had virtually arm
wrestled against the warrior’s unbroken arm. He’d used a grip from the backside
of the wrist so the Krall’s fingers couldn’t curve inward to stab the human’s
hand with its extended talons. It turned out that Carson had no problem forcing
the Krall’s arm to bend where he chose, and shoved the hand into the warrior’s
face, as it fought to prevent him. It retracted the talons, but they always
extended a half inch, and Carson raked them down its muzzle, causing deep
scratches.

That had
not prevented it from another try to stab Carson with talons, and it would not
respond to him in Standard. Carson pulled out his knife that had paralyzed
Stilkap, and made a small cut on Pindor’s neck. If enough of the thorn extract remained
on the blade, this one would soon grow easier to manage. If not, he’d apply a
bit of the extract from the small tube directly on the Krall’s purple tongue,
for faster absorption.

He heard
the sound of trucks and halftracks on the tarmac, and in a moment a dozen vehicles
had surrounded the shuttle, each filled with cheering men and women, all giddy with
relief, wearing foolish looking grins on their faces. That lasted until they
saw the pitiful and repulsive sight of Cahill’s naked and gutted corpse. Someone
covered her remains with a tarp from the back of a truck. No one covered up the
dead Krall, which were objects of the greatest interest to all. Until, that is,
they learned there were seventeen new human faces on the now opened Clanship. Twenty
years of news from home resided with those people, and the gawkers moved that
direction quickly.

Carson
heard Mirikami’s voice, and his Dad’s, talking as they rounded the back of the
shuttle.

“Even if I
don’t tell her Dillon, and I’m not going to make up a lie, Jake has it recorded
and at least fifty people under the overhang saw what he did. She will see for
herself, and hear about it from others. Besides even if I scrubbed the
recordings, denying that it happened that way when it sounds
exactly
like him, and like you by the way, is a waste of good air.”

“Tet,
she’ll kill me for letting him get into this situation. If he had simply
shot
the big dumb shit in the head like I asked him to do, the rest would not have
happened.”

“Sure, and
the other Krall would have dashed into the shuttle when they saw the cats and
Ethan coming, lifted off, and burned Hub City down around our ears. Then they
would have used the Clanship to lay waste to Prime City, depart Koban and bring
back more hunters for the grandest planet wide survivor hunt they could
imagine.”

“Dad, what
are you two talking about?”

“What your mom will do to me when…,” his words
trailed off as he looked at his son, horror struck. His voice finally returned.

“Oh. My. God! I’m a dead man.”

Carson was
confused. “What?”

Mirikami had been staring as well, his initial expression of
concern turning into a wide grin as the truth became evident. “Have you
considered what you look like right now?”

The boy looked down at his gore covered clothes and limbs,
and as he grinned, caked and quickly congealed Krall blood flaked from his
cheeks. “I guess I’m a bit of a mess.” Then he hurried to add, “None of this is
from me. Really.”

His dad rushed over and started brushing and flicking away
bits and pieces of shredded Stilkap from his son’s hair, back, and clothing.
The Krall blood wasn’t coming off, except where it had already dried on his
high metabolism’s heated skin.

“Don’t anyone record him yet!” Dillon shouted. However, that
was exactly what some of the onlookers were doing.

“Someone please trade him a shirt before his mother gets a
look at what I let her son do.” He shook his head. “I’m a dead man!” He
repeated.

“Dad! Relax. I’ll go take a shower and change before I call
Mom.”

Ethan stuck his head out of the shuttle. “That isn’t even
the worst I’ve seen him, Uncle Dillon. Have you ever blown up a dead bloated
rhinolo just to see what would happen?”

They gathered to inspect the Clanship, celebrate their
victory, and discuss how and why only Mirikami could use any of its facilities
or even open the doors.

Six shuttles from Prime City made a three-hour afternoon
flight, filled with science and engineering teams, Chief Haveram and his Rats, a
lot more TGs, some returning Hub City citizens, and the rest of the Inner
Circle decision makers.

Of the latter group, Thad was comfortable facing up to his
wife, Marlyn, since Ethan had not acted half as brashly as Carson had. Dillon,
on the other hand, expected a very chilly reception from Noreen. She had
opposed allowing the SG teenagers to receive the Koban mods before reaching age
twenty-one, and only later reluctantly agreed with Mirikami that eighteen had
been a more reasonable alternative. She continued to argue that Prime City
should raise the decision age from sixteen, to match where Hub City had set
their adult level, at age eighteen.

She had tearfully stepped out of the shuttle and hugged
Carson, embarrassing him with kisses and physically checking him for injuries.
His younger sister and brother acted as if they were happy to be related to him
for a change. Katelyn was also a TG at seventeen, and Cory, over fourteen now,
would have to wait an impatient eighteen months for his Koban mods.

Noreen, satisfied her oldest was all in one piece, looked
around for her husband, and spotted him with most of the rest of the Inner
Circle members, seemingly trying to hide in a group of much shorter people. Tet
came just below his shoulders, Maggi to mid chest, and Aldry and Rafe to his
nose and chin. She saw Marlyn and Thad were holding hands, standing together
with Ethan, and their two younger children, Bradley who also was a TG, and
Danner who was waiting, like Cory, to grow up too fast.

She thought she knew why Dillon had avoided her and let
Carson meet her alone at the shuttle. She’d had time to put her thoughts in
order on the flight.

Placing her arm around Carson’s broad shoulders, she pulled
him along smiling, calling for his siblings to follow. “Let’s all go pick on
daddy, shall we?”

            As
they drew closer, Dillon sighted them coming because he had a head at crow’s
nest height, and a disinterested mind on the chatter around him. He was using
his peripheral vision to watch for the expected frontal attack, waiting only
for his darling opponent to formulate her strategy. He mentally girded his
loins for the emotional assault.

The
others, seeing Dillon stiffen slightly and turn his head, followed his gaze,
and stood by to either offer moral support, or in Maggi’s case, perhaps deliver
a joyful salvo of her own. She thought he’d acted properly in allowing his son
to face the Krall as he had, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t act as a sniper
for whichever side came after her favorite prodigy.

Noreen
stopped a few feet in front of her husband with both her fists on her shapely
hips, arms akimbo, and a stern look on her face. She came directly to the
point, using past history as her cudgel. “Dillon! If you had listened to me two
years ago, and we waited until these kids were twenty-one to get their Koban
mods, Carson would be dead. So thank you so very damned much!” The stern look
relaxed.

Dillon
looked at his feet and offered his prepared lame defense. “Honey, I’m sorry, I
had no choice. He was going to go out anyway and…,” her changed expression and
actual words were slow to impinge on his defensive shield. However, they
finally penetrated into his awareness. “Uh…, uh, w-what?” he stammered.

Maggi was
ready. “Not too quick on the uptake there, genius. To think I mentored you all
those years to promote your promising career, and now you sound like a
stuttering moron. Try listening to what people say to you. She
said
you were
right
, knucklehead.”

Mirikami
exploded into laughter. The day had been tense and bloody, and his closest
friend wasn’t in trouble with his wife after all. That was a huge relief. Short
lived for him, as it turned out.

Noreen
turned to her former Captain, stern look returning. “You, on the other hand,
Tetsuo Mirikami, manipulated people and planned this operation on the fly, as
usual, without ever consulting those that would probably agree with you, if you
simply explained what the hell you were trying to accomplish. Lucky for you it all
worked, yet again.”

His hearty
laugh had shrunk to a weak smile. “I console myself with the knowledge that if
a desperate plan of mine fails, at least I won’t live to suffer the
consequences.” He shrugged.

Shaking
her head she said, “Fair enough Commander.” She gave him a smile. “So please
tell us what you plan to do, now that we have a captured Jump capable ship,
with another one of ours to follow. And please remember in your plans that I
was trained as Spacer.”

He nodded.
“How about we go check out the one we have over there.” He hooked a thumb at
the Clanship. “If you promise to forgive me, and Dillon, and Carson, I might
let you give a Krall Clanship its first name. Making it a part of the growing
Koban naval fleet.”