Lost Planet 02 - The Stolen Moon (20 page)

They were friendlier too, approaching him and Maurus with open curiosity. One reached out and touched Chase's arm, leaving a shiny blue-green spot on his skin. Another moved in on Maurus's burned arm, sniffing the raw skin and burbling something that the translink didn't pick up.

Maurus moved back cautiously, raising his blaster. “Stay back.”

“Put down your weapon, Lieutenant,” said Ksenia in a hard voice. She looked around at the Werikosa, shaking her head. “You won't need it right now. These are children.”

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Once the crew had lowered their weapons, a few adult Werikosa began to emerge, melting out of the scenery like ghosts. They were more cautious than the children and hung back, muttering among themselves. One especially lean and leathery older male stepped out ahead of the group, dressed in ragged black attire and bare feet, with a blaster rifle slung loosely around his back.

The adults were bigger than the Storrians, but as Chase had noticed when they spoke to the hijacker Petrod, their features were similar to those of the other civilization with tiny, wide-set eyes, flat nose, and drooping upper lip that curled over the rest of their mouths. But where the Storrians had eyebrow stalks that oozed in and out of their foreheads, the Werikosa had a hard-looking ridge of skin there that didn't seem to move as much. There was something unrefined about their expressions and movements, and it was unsettling to Chase because he couldn't read them and didn't know what to expect.

“Who are you?” Ksenia barked. “Where is Mathid? What is this place?”

The Werikosa's face darkened. “How do you know Mathid?”

“He was the head of the mineworks, last I knew. My name is Ksenia Oriolo. I'm the Federal plenipotentiary for the Rhima terraforming project. We were just attacked by your leader Petrod—I assume you're aware he's hijacked a Federation starship?”

The Werikosa simply stared at her, giving no sign whether he knew about it or not.

“He shot down our ship; we crashed some distance from here. Some of our people were injured.”

“We know about your ship.” He took a step back and signaled to a few of his people. “Come with us.”

Another Werikosa, this one younger and wearing only a loose vest and baggy trousers, charged out of the crowd and pointed angrily at the Earthans.

“These ship dwellers are the enemy, Bawran,” he said, eyeing them with his eyebrow ridges pressed back flat against his forehead. “If Petrod meant to destroy them, we should finish his task, not offer them aid.”

Hands went to the waists of everyone carrying a weapon. Chase grabbed his sister by the arm, pulling her behind him.

Bawran faced the group of survivors. “Do not draw your arms. We have no intention of fighting with you, but we do have the means.” To the younger Werikosa, he said, “Go clear out the central trailer. We will put them there.”

The younger Werikosa got in his face, pushing against his chest. “These are our prisoners! Do not treat them with hospitality!”

“Enough!” shouted Bawran, pushing the youngster roughly away. For a second, it looked like they might break into a fight, but Bawran took a long step forward, lips slightly curled back, and after a few tense moments the young Werikosa backed down and stormed away.

As Bawran led them through the murky twilight paths of the settlement, more faces peeked out from behind cracked doors and window holes. He sent several others running ahead, and by the time the group reached the center of the community, they had emptied out a long cargo trailer that was open on one end and dark as a cave inside.

Glancing back at the rest of the group, Ksenia led the way up into the cargo trailer. Maurus marched beside Chase, his burned arm held tight against his stomach, and grabbed him with his other arm for support. Chase checked to make sure that Parker and Lilli were nearby and found them sandwiched between Vidal and Derrick.

The inside of the trailer was lit only with a few dim LED lights plugged into the ceiling. Thick rugs and rough blankets lay in tangled piles against the wall, making Chase wonder if they had forced someone from their home.

Ksenia stalked through the dingy space and whirled around to face Bawran. “What is this place? What happened to the settlement the Federation constructed for you by the Yoder mineworks?”

“Mining operations have ceased,” said Bawran, standing calmly in the middle of the room as the rest of their group entered. “A few of our people still hold the location, but the windstorms tore up the biodome and damaged some of the buildings. The craters are safer and mostly free of windstorms.”

As Chase helped Maurus settle down onto a blanket, he noticed the back of the trailer was filled with jumbled heaps of broken electronics and other junk. Parker walked toward it, his eyes traveling over the items with a cool, almost android-like, analytical gaze.

“You realize that these craters are destined to become lakes, don't you?” Ksenia told the Werikosa leader. “They'll fill with water and all these homes will be lost. The windstorms will decrease as vegetation expands and the atmosphere balances out.”

“That is a question for the future. For now, this is better than worrying if a house will fall in on our children.” Bawran stepped toward the exit as if to leave.

Ksenia did not relent, pushing on with her questions. “How did all these women and children get here? We didn't arrange for families to accompany the terraformers to Rhima. Did you smuggle them over?” Bawran said nothing, and Ksenia continued. “Do you realize what a bad idea this is? This moon is not ready for settling. It doesn't have the resources to sustain a population.”

“Our people are not dying of the sun illness here,” Bawran said. “That is already better.”

“You'd rather watch them starve?” she asked.

A scowl formed on Bawran's face, but before he could answer, a breathless, stocky Werikosa lugging a large composite chest entered the trailer. “The injured?” he asked, making a beeline for Maurus before anyone could answer him and providing enough distraction for Bawran to leave.

Deftly the medic cut away an entire half of Maurus's jacket, shaking his head as he turned to paw through items in his chest, a strange collection of junk, tubes, and loose wires that didn't look particularly sanitary.

“Do you have steamgel in there?” Maurus asked.

The medic waved a hand at him. “No use talking—I won't understand a word. Just sit still. This will hurt.” He grabbed Maurus's wrist and lifted his arm away from his body, while with the other he poured a bottle of watery liquid over Maurus's shoulder, rinsing away the sand and lichen stuck to it.

Maurus closed his eyes and slammed his head backward into the wall behind him, yelling through his teeth. The medic pulled a jar from his chest and shoved it at Chase. “Put this on him while I locate some bandaging.”

Cautiously Chase popped open the lid and peered at the jiggly yellow cream inside. It smelled pungent and weirdly appetizing. He glanced up at Maurus.

“Do it. Please.” Maurus had cracked his eyes open, but closed them again, breathing in short gasps. The raw, red skin on his shoulder was visibly tightening and contracting. Feeling anxious, Chase dipped his hand into the cream and scooped out a slippery handful. Immediately his hand began to burn, and a large splat of cream hit the floor below him.

“Careful, Chase,” said Vidal, poised at his side to take over.

Shaking his head, Chase smeared the cream as delicately as possible down Maurus's raw arm before he could lose any more of it. For a moment, Maurus seized up, but then he sank back against the wall, his mouth hanging open in a slack grin. He turned to Vidal. “Hey there, pretty,” he slurred.

The medic was back at their side, shaking out a fraying piece of material that had seen better days. Glancing at Chase, he frowned. “Why didn't you use the spreader?”

Chase looked down at the jar and noticed a plastic spoon-like piece snapped onto the lid. He started to shrug, but the medic had snatched up Chase's hand to scrub off the excess cream. He peered into Chase's eyes. “Why aren't you affected?”

It must have been one of those involuntary self-preservation reflexes Dr. Bishallany had tested for, the molecules in his hand letting the powerful cream phase through. But what if he had needed the cream himself? “I don't … I'm not…” Chase began haltingly. But the medic, not understanding anything without a translink, turned back to Maurus, his question only rhetorical. He hoisted Maurus back off the wall and began wrapping his shoulder tightly, while the Lyolian leaned against him, a vacant, drugged smile on his face.

As the medic finished up with the wounded, Bawran returned to the trailer. He wore a grim expression. “I've alerted Petrod of your arrival. He's ordered us to keep you here, Madame Oriolo, until the dispute has come to a satisfactory conclusion.”

“As a hostage?” she asked sharply.

“As an esteemed guest. The young ones can stay with you, but I'm afraid the soldiers in your company must leave their weapons and come with me.”

“I won't allow it. We're not a threat to you. Some of them can barely walk.”

Bawran looked over at Maurus, who was absently picking at a loose thread on the edge of his bandage. “They're to be quartered somewhere else. The ones who can't walk will be carried.”

Several Werikosa carrying weapons, led by the young hothead in the vest, marched into the trailer and began rounding up the soldiers. Derrick, who sat on a blanket beside Lilli, gestured angrily. “We'll stay with the children. I'm not leaving them alone here.”

The hothead Werikosa approached Maurus, pointing his blaster at him with an aggressiveness that made Chase freeze. “Stand up,” he growled. Maurus stared at the ground, mumbling to himself. A lock of dark hair had fallen across his face. The Werikosa nudged him gently with the nozzle of his blaster rifle, and with his lightning-fast Lyolian reflexes, Maurus reached out and snatched the weapon, pulling it down toward himself. His eyes were bright and alert again—the cream's narcotic effect had already worn off. How long had he been faking it?

Chase could see what was going to happen. “Let go!” he cried. But the Werikosa moved quicker than he had expected, and before Maurus could react, he whirled around and slammed the butt of his rifle into Maurus's bandaged shoulder. Maurus fell back with an agonized scream.

“Hey!” Looking outraged, Derrick sprang to his feet, blocking the Werikosa from swinging at Maurus again. He grabbed at the blaster, and for a moment the two of them wrestled for control before Bawran slid up behind Derrick and grabbed his ear, yanking him away shouting. The younger Werikosa raised his blaster and hauled back as if to smash Derrick in the face with it.

“Hotha!” shouted Bawran. “That's enough!”

Eyeing his superior with obvious malice, Hotha threw the blaster over his shoulder and yanked Maurus to his feet, shoving both him and Derrick toward the exit. Maurus stumbled and fell to his knees, and Vidal rushed to his side, glancing back with a face full of worry.

“Just go,” said Ksenia. “I'll take care of the children.”

Cold fear settled into Chase's stomach as he watched the three soldiers leave with Hotha's blaster rifle aimed at their backs. If the young Werikosa really wanted to prove his loyalty to the cause, this could be the last time Chase would see them alive. He looked up at Bawran. “Don't let him hurt them.”

Bawran gave him a flat stare that he couldn't interpret, and walked toward the exit. “I have no way to lock you in here, but know that if you try to run, you won't get far.”

Once they were alone in the dim trailer, Ksenia sank onto a pile of blankets, running her hands over her face. “How did this happen?” she groaned, shaking her head.

Chase crouched down beside her, leaden hopelessness seeping through him, making him feel like he weighed a million pounds. He had barely allowed himself to think about what would happen if the
Kuyddestor
were lost, but the idea of anything happening to Maurus and the other soldiers on top of this was paralyzing. He, Parker, and Lilli could be stranded on the moon for ages, or rescued by exactly the part of the Fleet they'd been avoiding. The only thing coming to their aid anytime soon was this approaching Fleet starship, the
Destrier
—the very name of which had made Maurus visibly blanch when he heard it. And that “aid” sounded less like assistance and more like annihilation. But there was one possible resource that they hadn't yet discussed.

“If we can get to the mineworks, maybe we can still call for help,” he began.

Ksenia arched an eyebrow and sighed. “The
Destrier
won't be here for days, and I highly doubt the Storrians will risk any of their defense to attempt a rescue mission. We'd be better off trying to negotiate with our captors. Bawran seems better acquainted with the humanoid mind-set than most Werikosa I've worked with.”

But the
Destrier
wasn't what Chase was thinking of, and neither were the Storrians. If Ksenia knew Asa like she said, maybe she knew a way to reach him. He'd helped them out once before, and even though Chase still didn't really trust him, there weren't a lot of options left. “What about Asa?”

Ksenia leaned forward, giving him an unusual look. “What about him?”

“Maybe, if he's close enough … do you know how to contact him? Do you think he might be able to help us?”

She stared at him for a moment before resting back against the wall again. “I wish he would,” she said. “But I wouldn't put a lot of hope in that avenue.”

Before Chase could ask what she meant, a few Werikosa children slipped back into the trailer, coming over to crouch beside them. The children didn't speak much, but when they did it seemed like they were using some sort of baby talk, because the translink never interpreted it. One took Parker's hand and placed it within her own, making a raspy noise like a giggle as she squeezed it.