Ronin (The Pike Chronicles Book 3) (13 page)

Walking behind his father, Jon wondered how the man could keep going. There was no part of his own body that didn’t ache. His feet were covered in blisters, and he thought he might have torn a shoulder muscle, or two. How long had it been since he last slept? It was just before the Chaanisar attack, and even then he only slept a couple of hours. He was engulfed in darkness and envisioned himself sleeping in his bed. He winced with shame. How could he expect his father to treat him like a man when he still thought like a child? Did his father and cousins not go through the same hardships? Not one of them complained. Neither had Jon, but he wanted to. It was all he could do to keep it together. But he wouldn’t fall apart. He knew that. He would suffer in silence. However, the thought alone made him question his strength.

“I know you’ve been through a lot, son,” his father had said after the encounter with the Chaanisar. “But it is very important that we make it home as fast as possible.”

He spoke of how the Chaanisar were relentless. Jon needed little convincing after their encounter. They were like nothing he had ever seen before. The word relentless didn’t do their resolve justice.

“The Chaanisar will find our home,” his father had said. His tone ominous. His face grim. “It is only a matter of time. No man can withstand Chaanisar torture.”

“You think they captured some of our men?” said Jon.

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t.”

The image of his mother spurred him on. It gave him the will to push on, despite the relentless pain. His motivation could not drown out his agony. Each step remained a struggle. Every movement a test. Did he have it in him? Was he tough enough? Was he a man, like his father? Like his cousins?

“Actions, not years, make a man,” his grandfather once told him. Today he understood the meaning of those words.

They hiked through the uneven terrain of the mountain forest, Jon’s quads burning with each step. By early morning they reached a stream. His father finally let them stop. They needed to replenish their water supply, and wouldn’t be any good to anyone if they collapsed from dehydration.

Jon dropped to his knees and dunked his head into the frigid water. His legs and back relaxed and his feet were given a temporary reprieve. He lifted his head out of the water, cupped his hands together and filled them from the stream. He drank, the cold water soothing his parched throat. He filled his hands again, and again. Nothing in the world could possibly feel better.

“Take it easy, cousin,” said Jason, kneeling beside him. “You’ll wind up with a cramp.”

He was right, but Jon didn’t care. He drank as much as he could and dunked his head again. His hair was dirty and itchy. He imagined it still hid the insects from the cave. He hoped the water would get rid of some of the dirt clinging to it. Finally, he filled his canteen and stood up, wincing as the pain returned.

“You’re doing good, son,” his father said. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Jon was surprised by the rare compliment. His father never gave unearned praise. Jon swelled with pride, and when his father called time to move out it seemed like his body hurt a little less than before.

They hiked throughout the day, keeping a brisk pace. They avoided climbing cliffs, and for that he was thankful. His fingers were so sore he questioned whether they could hold onto the rocks. Instead they traveled mostly through forest.

By mid-afternoon, Jon felt like he was being watched. Could it be more Chaanisar? He casually looked around, trying to set eyes on his trackers. At first he saw nothing. Certainly not any Chaanisar. Then he caught it. A pair of eyes watching from behind the trees. The eyes were familiar. They belonged to a timber wolf.

He glanced around, looking for more. Where there was one wolf, there was a pack. Nothing. He continued to search the trees. Still no trace of more wolves. It appeared to be alone. While unusual, it wasn’t unheard of. Sometimes wolves left the pack and lived alone. This happened when a wolf was unwilling to take its place under the alpha. In a wolf pack, only the alpha male and alpha female are allowed to breed. This keeps the pack from becoming too large. But, if the mating instinct is too strong in one of the other wolves, they will leave their packs and go it alone. In doing so, they develop superior cunning, agility, and skills unknown to the rest of the pack. A lone wolf is a slave to no master.

This particular wolf was big. Almost sixty kilograms. Clearly a male. He was covered from head to toe in jet black fur. Well suited to a rebel.

Jon stared at the lone wolf, looking into its piercing gray eyes. The eyes of a killer. It looked right back at him. Unflinching. Jon wasn’t afraid, and it didn’t look to be afraid of him either. It was as if they recognized each other. Something caught his attention and he turned to see Michael aiming his weapon at the wolf.

“Don’t,” he said, and pushed Michael’s shoulder to throw off his aim.

“What are you doing?” Michael said, looking annoyed.

“Don’t shoot it. It’s not bothering you,” said Jon, not sure why he felt so strongly about a wolf.

“Have you lost your mind, cousin? It’s a wolf and it’s stalking us.”

“It’s not. It won’t bother us.”

“Oh really, and how do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“Hey,” Michael said to the others. “Jon can talk to wolves now.”

Jason and Michael laughed, but his father frowned.

“Stop acting like a bunch of idiots,” said his father. “And don’t shoot that damn weapon unless you have to. Do you want the Chaanisar finding us again?”

Michael stopped laughing and said, “No, sorry.”

“Leave the bloody wolf alone and keep moving.”

Jon looked back but the wolf was gone. He didn’t know why but he hoped he would see it again.

He spotted it an hour later. They were hiking up an incline and the black timber wolf stood in the distance, perched regally on a large rock, watching them with interest.

“Do you want to tell me again how it’s not stalking us, cousin,” Michael said sarcastically.

“I don’t think it is,” said Jon, fascinated by the animal.

“Oh no? Then what the hell is it doing there?”

“I agree that it’s following us, but it’s not hunting us.”

“Are you talking to it again? Using some kind of wolf telepathy?”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“Well, you said you know, so how do you know?”

“I just do. It’s a feeling. That’s all.”

“A feeling? Really?”

“Yeah, and common sense. It’s without a pack, and even a pack would look for easier pickings than four grown men.”

“You may be a man, cousin, but you’re not grown yet.”

“Funny.”

“So, if it’s not hunting us, then why do you think it’s following us?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s curious.”

“Well curiosity can kill a wolf too. Maybe you should tell him that, cousin.”

Jon ignored Michael’s jabs and studied the wolf. He had a clear view now. A magnificent creature. Large and powerfully built. He felt like it was staring right at him. Probably exhaustion playing tricks on his mind. But when he looked at it, he could swear that it locked eyes with him.

It tracked them as they hiked up the incline. It never moved. There was something about the wolf’s stature. The way it stood. Alone, proud, fearless and free. He felt like it communicated a greater purpose to him. He just didn’t know what that purpose was.

He thought about it as he walked. That purpose could be the resistance. He was as committed to its cause as any man. Yet this wolf had no pack. It stood alone. He wondered about that, feeling a little foolish, but intrigued by the concept. Maybe it was a liberated Earth? Free of alien oppression and interference? He liked the sound of that, but he didn’t think the Earth would be free anytime soon. If the Juttari were defeated, there would still be the Diakans. No, something told him the purpose was his. He would be the lone wolf.

He didn’t see the timber wolf again for the rest of the hike. He figured it probably got bored and moved on.

By late afternoon they were close enough to base for some reconnaissance. They hid in the trees and scanned their homes with binoculars. Jon’s body began to tremble uncontrollably. It started in his arms. They shook so hard he almost dropped his binoculars. It spread to his shoulders and then moved down to his legs. His body shook like a strong fever had taken hold.

They were too late.

The Chaanisar had found the base. Its charred remains smoldered like a campfire someone forgot to extinguish. Wisps of smoke rose from the dying embers. Where their homes once stood, blackened ruins now struggled against the breeze. Dead bodies littered the ground. He scanned them frantically, trying to find his mother, but they were burnt so badly he couldn’t recognize who they were. There were no signs of life. Cold dread seized him. The Chaanisar had killed them all.

Not her. Not his mother. Somehow, she must have survived. She needed his help. In a panic he began to move. A powerful hand gripped his arm, preventing him from running. He whipped around to face his father. His sorrowful face looked back at Jon. He shook his head.

“We have to find mom,” Jon begged.

“No, son,” said his father. “It’s too late.”

“You don’t know that. We have to try.”

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm, eyes pleading. “If we go in there we will die, just like the rest. I’m sorry, son. It’s over.”

“No…”

His father pulled Jon in and wrapped his arms around him, holding him firmly while he cried.

“I’m sorry,” his father said again. “I’m so sorry.”

Jon watched the display as the shuttle raced up into the sky. Countermeasures streaked away from it, as missiles gave chase.

He looked at Bast, whose eye twitched again. The display lit up with a flash of brilliant blue light.

“Who’s firing at us?” said Jon.

“A squadron of fighters,” said Bast. “The ship is dealing with them.”

Jon looked over at Seiben lying on the floor. The Doctor knelt beside him, hands covered in blood, the shuttle’s medical kit spread open next to her.

“How’s he doing?” Jon asked.

“I’ve stopped the bleeding,” she said. “But the bullet has torn him up inside. I’ll be able to do more for him once we get up to the ship.”

“I’ve informed the ship of his condition,” said Bast. “A team will be waiting to rush you and Mr. Seiben to the sickbay.”

Ellerbeck looked at Bast and nodded. “Thank you.”

“We have rescued several members of your medical team,” Bast continued. “They are headed to the sickbay as we speak.”

Ellerbeck looked surprised, but said nothing, her attention fixed on Seiben.

“Captain Pike, Colonel Bast,” said Prime Minister Sallas. “I just want to thank you and your men for all you’ve done today. I am in your debt.”

“Don’t thank us,” said Jon. “Thank Doctor Ellerbeck.”

“I know,” said Sallas. “Still, I would be back in that cell if not for you.”

“Do you have any idea why Juneau turned on you?” said Jon.

“I have my suspicions. Our experiment with democracy angered the corporations. I’m pretty sure they were pulling Juneau’s strings.”

“You frighten them,” said Jon. Everything beginning to make sense.

Sallas nodded. “They’re afraid of losing power, but they’re more afraid of losing money. Their populations are nothing more than employees. Many are so heavily indebted that they don’t have any other options. They’ve engineered a system where large swathes of their populations must work to service the debt they owe to the very same corporations. In most cases the debt cannot be paid off in one lifetime. It is passed down to future generations, who end up increasing, rather than lowering the debt. Generations have inherited debts so large that paying them off isn’t an option. All they can do is hope to earn enough to pay the interest.”

“What happens if they don’t make their interest payments?” said Jon.

“If they miss too many payments they can be jailed.”

“Why don’t they leave?” said Bast, who had been listening intently to the conversation.

“There is no escape. People are free to move from one world to another, but their debt follows. The corporations share information about their populations.”

“Sounds like a thinly veiled form of slavery,” said Jon.

“Yes, it is,” said Sallas.

“What about you?” said Bast. “Are you indebted?”

“No. My family is quite wealthy. You see, under corporate rule everything is based on your position. Those in upper management make enough to avoid the burden of debt. Often, these people prosper, and their wealth grows. This of course is a different kind of slavery. Lose your job, and you lose your status, and eventually your wealth.”

“Why would someone in your position want to change things?”

Sallas smiled. “I am a student of history. I have studied old Earth. There was a time when people on Earth were born into servitude. But the history of humanity, is the story of the long quest for individual freedom. When Earth’s governments finally turned to democracy, the people found some measure of freedom. It helped me see how corrupt and unjust our system truly was.

“You see, the colonies were initially created by the corporations. People willingly traveled here in search of work. Government was necessary because the colonies were governed by Sol. When Sol fell, however, the corporations continued behaving like corporations, without oversight. That led to abuses. As time passed, people forgot Sol, and forgot democracy. I wanted to revive it. I wanted to give the people back their freedom. In fact, the first thing I did after coming into power was abolish hereditary debt.”

“I can see why the corporations hate you,” said Jon.

“The population elected me as their leader. I speak for them, not the corporations.” Sallas spoke in a defiant tone, and Jon had to admit that he was starting to like the man.

“What about the military?”

“The military serves New Byzantium. They were nationalized. Some didn’t approve.”

“I’m assuming General Juneau was one of them.”

“That’s correct.”

“So you have knowledge of Earth before the Juttari?” asked Jon.

“Yes, of course,” said Sallas. “Why do you ask?”

“The Juttari invasion devastated Earth. Much of our knowledge was lost. Only remnants remained.”

“A second dark ages,” Sallas muttered to himself.

“We’re approaching the ship,” said Bast.

“We’ll have to continue this later,” said Jon.

Sallas leaned in, “We need your help, Captain.”