Questor Page 6

  They were coming over the hill, one in front using the device to track them. The Midean hesitated, studied his device once more and pointed in the direction of the hillock. “There, sir, behind that rise.”

  Jon pulled his weapon. He checked its charge and made sure it was set to stun, then he waited.

  Beside him Triena was stirring, but he didn’t take his eyes off the approaching adversaries.

  “Don’t...hurt. I’ll be...”

  He couldn’t wait to hear anymore; they were getting too close. He raised himself a little, took a bead on the leading group of three and swept his weapon across them. In an instant they dropped to the ground as if felled by a pole-ax. His weapon’s discharge was almost invisible, just a slight crack and a distortion in the air.

  The others coming up behind hesitated, then one of them, the probable leader shouted, “Spread out, spread out! They’re just ahead. We must capture them.”

  They ran, all in different directions, spreading out to encircle the hill. As they ran, one of the Mideans fired his weapon at the hillock. It struck just ahead of Jon and threw chunks of turf and dark red soil into the air. The weapon was some kind of percussion device. Primitive compared to the variable pulse electrical field his own weapon discharged, but still most lethal.

  Jon couldn’t cover them all. There were six of them coming in to surround the hillock and, no matter how he swept his weapon, he was pretty sure one of them would get him before he could knock out all of them. He’d just have to take his chances. He wouldn’t let them take Triena if he could help it.

  He raised himself again and took aim at the Midean on his far right and fired. He’d dropped the third alien before one of the others hit him in the left shoulder. It felt as if he’d been jabbed with a red hot poker. He gasped in pain as he fell back beside Triena. He gritted his teeth, pushed the pain to the back of his mind, dragged himself to his knees and made to raise his right arm again, when Triena grabbed it and shook her head. She pulled him back down behind the hillock again. He started to protest but she just raised a finger at him and closed her eyes for a second.

  Jon felt it, he didn’t know what it was, but there was an obvious change, like a faint tingle rushing over his skin. He edged forward an inch at a time and peeked around the corner of hillock. He saw the Midean with the device stop, give it a gentle shake and try again, aiming it at the hillock and then turning it in a gradual semicircle.

  “Commander Oriod, the reading’s gone,” the Midean reported. “As fast as it came it has just vanished.”

  “There’s no signal at all?” asked Oriod.

  “No, sir, nothing.”

  “They were behind that small hill. They must still be around here, somewhere. Come on, careful now.”

  “Sir,” one of the others called from behind, leaning over his fallen comrades. “They’re just knocked out, sir. They’re not hurt at all.”

  “What!” Oriod exclaimed. He took a breath and continued. “Very well, leave them for now. We have to find the Rhiava.”

  Oriod led his team over the small hill. “Damn! How do they do that? I don’t understand these Rhiava at all. If someone had invaded my world, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill them, but these Rhiava, all they do is hide. They disgust me. Let’s go. Pick up the others and we’ll go back to the craft,” he said in frustration.

  Charod listened to Oriod’s negative report. On top of everything else, someone had managed to get through the shield, the shield that was supposed to be impenetrable. Oriod’s team couldn’t get into the vessel, they couldn’t find the crew, they were pretty sure the ship’s inhabitants had gone off with some Rhiava, but as usual they couldn’t find them either.

  Charod still couldn’t understand what made these Rhiava so different, but there was no denying they were. Any information he did obtain was cryptic, all but mystical. He was almost tempted to believe the old legends about these people.

  It was no use berating Oriod; he was a good man. Charod knew he had done his best. Charod liked to keep his infamous temper for when it could do some good. On the surface he just accepted Oriod’s report and told him to return to his outpost. He was pleased to hear the surprise in Oriod’s voice. It was good to keep his staff off-balance.

  Charod had heard during his recent reports back to Midea about a strange vessel that was, at present, in orbit, trading for various goods. Could it be a coincidence, or was there a link? He decided it wasn’t a question that could remain unanswered. He ordered a request for information sent through to Command.

  Jon crawled up to the top of the hillock and watched as the Mideans picked up their compatriots, while the leader moved back over the hill to the crash site.

  Triena climbed up beside him. She ignored the Mideans and instead put a hand on his left shoulder. He recoiled in pain from his wound, and she reached up to put a hand to his forehead. “Just relax, Jon. I’m just trying to help.”

  All at once Jon felt lightheaded and tired. He rolled over onto his back and Triena stared close into his eyes, massaging the air just above his injured shoulder. Instead of feeling pain, Jon just felt a warmth flow through him as he slipped away into a warm safe place.

  “Is that better?” Triena asked in a quiet voice beside him.

  He glanced at her, feeling as if he’d come back from a long sleep. It took him a second to remember where he was. He took a long look at his left shoulder. The raw wound was still there, but there was no longer any pain.

  “Yes,” Jon replied, distracted.

  “I’ll bind this until we get back. Irida can heal you then.” As she spoke she was tearing a long strip from the hem of her dress.

  “There’s no pain. What did you do?”

  “I masked it. It’s still there, but your body is no longer aware of it.”

  Jon was about to ask how but thought better of it.

  “You didn’t hurt them,” she said, but it was less of a statement and more a question.

  “No, I set my weapon to stun them. We never like to hurt anyone if we can help it.”

  “Even after they hurt you? You didn’t change the setting on your weapon, did you?”

  “No.” He was cautious as he stood, but as he realized he didn’t feel too bad, he stretched out his right hand to pull her to her feet. “What happened, Triena? I felt something, a kind of change in the atmosphere surrounding me. It was because you fell, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. They won’t be able to get into your craft, will they?”

  Did she sidetrack me on purpose, or is it just that she’s concerned? “No, Manny sealed the shuttle. As long as there’s power there’ll be a security field around it. I felt the power begin to return just as the craft was about to crash. I think there’ll be enough to keep them out for quite some time. Did you manage to learn anything?”

  “I know they’re frustrated, and the other Elders in Haven are still hidden.”

  “Haven?” Jon asked.

  “Another of our villages, concealed, across the mountains.”

  “Mountains? I haven’t seen any mountains.”

  She laughed. “You ought to have done. As you came in you should’ve almost flown over them.” She pointed in a general direction, off to the southwest. “On purpose we split up to protect the Elders—and the Spirit.”

  “I’m afraid my attention was otherwise engaged as we came in,” he commented and she laughed as he’d intended. It made him feel good to hear her laugh. “That’s twice I’ve heard the name Spirit. What does it mean?”

  “Let’s go back into the forest. It’s safer in there. And we can find somewhere to rest, I’m feeling a little tired, and I think it’s best to take our time on the return journey. You mightn’t feel the pain any longer, but it’s still a nasty wound.”

  “And will you tell me then?” He wouldn’t be sidetracked this time.

  She gave a wry grin, and said with a smile, “Oh, yes. I’ll tell you everything then.”

  Moving in silence back toward the cover of the
forest, they carried on walking until they were under the safe cover of the huge trees, when Triena stopped and sat, making herself comfortable leaning back against a tree trunk. He sat down beside her, grateful for the chance to rest. He felt a little drained and thought it must be due to loss of blood. Unlike a wound from his weapon, which if it’d been set any higher, would cauterize any damage, the percussion weapon had left a deep open injury. Triena had bound it up well, but still, he must’ve lost a fair amount of blood.

  “Thank you, Jon Hardesty,” Triena stated.

  “For what?” he asked, quite baffled. He’d been expecting an explanation, not gratitude.

  “For protecting me. And for not harming them. We want them off our planet, but like you we don’t wish to harm anyone unless there’s no other way. We’re still searching for other methods.”

  “You’re most welcome,” he said with a disarming smile, “and now will you tell me?”

  “You are most persistent.”

  “And curious. Don’t forget curious,” he added with a grin.

  She grinned in return. “And curious, yes. But as Sernov said, it’s the way to learn. And now it’s time.” She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again she raised her head to look at the sky above, full of swirling clouds. Then she shifted back to Jon. “When I slipped and knocked my head for a time I lost control of my Gift. Once we left the forest, my Gift was the one protection that remained. I created a kind of shield around us that hid us from view.”

  “And when you fell the shield disappeared.”

  “Yes, and if you’d not taken care of me they would’ve found me and taken me prisoner. I am so grateful to you for that, not just for myself, but for my people.” She hesitated a moment, and then gave him one of her delicious smiles. “May I see your weapon?”

  He took it out and handed it to her without a second thought. He showed her the various settings and told her some of what it could do. It didn’t occur to him until later he should’ve been cautious showing his weapon to someone he’d known for such a short time.

  “It’s quite remarkable and I’m pleased you use it most for defensive purposes,” she said, turning it over in her hands, studying it.

  “We have much larger versions on the ship, but again we always try to avoid using them.”

  “But if you had to, you would?”

  “Oh, yes, if it was necessary. The Questor is an explorer ship, not a warship, but we’re still armed; an explorer never knows what he might run into. We’d almost completed a three-year mission before we were dragged way out here, and we’ve been lost for almost two months now. In all that time we’ve not needed our weapons. As I said we don’t like to resort to them, but I have to admit we’re not afraid to employ them for our own protection, and we’re quite proficient with them.”

  “I see,” she said, with a slight twinge of sadness. “You sound almost proud of the fact, Jon.”

  “I suppose I am. I think if you’re able you should do whatever you can to the best of your ability. There’d be no point carrying a weapon, whether it’s personal or onboard ship, if you’re not prepared and well able to use it. But to be fair, we’re also proficient in the sciences, engineering, navigation, and we want to learn anything and everything we can. We have a firm belief in diplomacy. Talking is always the first step.”

  She stood up, raised her arms over her head and stretched her back. Jon, watching, felt a little dizzy and had to look away. What was it about this female? He’d met other appealing women before but none had ever affected him the way she did.

  “We are talking, are we not, Jon Hardesty?” she said, moving away a little. She reached up and took a fruit from a nearby tree, then another one.

  Triena then stepped back toward Jon as he watched from his place by the tree. He wondered what it would feel like to touch her skin. It seemed smooth and silky, and he was sure it would be warm to the touch. Stop thinking like that!

  She came close and handed him one of the fruits. Its scent reminded him of a peach, with a touch of...what was it? Of course, ginger. He took a bite. It tasted delicious. She played with the one in her hands. Such gentle hands.

  “What about this Spirit? You told me you would explain that too,” he asked in almost indecent haste. He had to get his mind on some other track.

  “It’s the name given to the one found to be the strongest in the Gift. The Spirit is the core of our belief.”

  “You mean like a religious leader or something?”

  “I suppose you could describe it in those terms. The Spirit is chosen when the old one dies. That was the purpose of the Ritual, which was being attended by the Elders when the Mideans came. My uncle was the previous Spirit, and he died just a short time ago. The new Spirit was discovered at the Ritual and must now be protected from the Mideans who’d be able to use the Spirit against the people.”

  “I don’t understand. Used against your people, how?”

  “The shield around our world doesn’t just keep others out and keep us in, it also suppresses our Gifts. The Elders and the Spirit are the most powerful in the Gift and the suppression has affected them most of all. We receive messages from our people trapped by the Mideans, and they’re fearful for the Elders and the Spirit. If the Elders, or in particular the Spirit was taken by the Mideans, the people would do anything to protect them. Anything.”

  “You’re saying under normal circumstances you’d be more powerful than you are now?” he asked in amazement.

  “Yes. If we weren’t under the shield we’d have been able to send away the Mideans by now,” she said.

  “Does that mean they knew the shield would suppress your Gift?”

  “I don’t believe so. We’re not sure if they even knew of their existence. It would seem to have just been a convenient stroke of luck for them.”

  “Very convenient! I’d like so much to help,” Jon said, surprised by his own words.

  “I know.” She glanced up; the sky was beginning to darken. “It’s time to continue our journey.”

  “Triena?”

  “Later. We must get back to Sanctuary. Irida must see to your shoulder, as soon as possible now.”

  Manny watched as Jon and Triena approached Sanctuary. He’d spent a good few hours with Wirva and Sernov and had lots of ideas for stocking up on supplies. Wirva had showed him many different kinds of foods, which would be most welcome. Then, when he’d met with Sernov and described in detail the type of materials they needed, Sernov agreed there should be no problem with helping.

  Manny was delighted, though there was nothing more he could do now until Questor arrived. He’d been concerned when Jon and Triena hadn’t arrived back earlier, and he hadn’t been alone in his worry.

  He overheard Lector and Sernov talking. Lector wasn’t happy Triena had gone out on the patrol alone with Jon, and Sernov agreed wholeheartedly. Manny overheard him telling Lector he’d asked her not to go, but that she’d said she must take her turn like everyone else. Now they were worried because she ought to have returned about an hour ago. Lector wanted to go out after her but Sernov refused. It wasn’t their place.

  Manny had some rather unkind thoughts then about Jon Hardesty. He knew Jon was attracted to Triena, and though as a rule Jon was a shy individual when it came to women, Manny believed it was more due to caution than anything else. He thought Jon was one of those individuals who soon got serious in any relationship upon which he might embark. No such thing as a quick fling for Jon Hardesty.

  As Manny watched them approaching, Lector rushed past him and ran to meet them. Sernov walked up and waited beside Manny.

  “Triena, we were worried. You’re late. Is everything all right?” Lector called as he ran forward. He switched his glance from Triena to Jon, giving him a long look, and Jon appeared quite uncomfortable under his gaze.

  “Yes, thanks to Jon,” she called back. As they met, Lector touched his forehead in greeting.

  Manny heard sounds behind him and swiveled
to see everyone else coming to the edge of the clearing. When Triena and Jon reached Sernov, he too touched his forehead and gave a small bow as did everyone else. Triena bowed back.

  “Jon Hardesty has been injured. Call for Irida,” Sernov demanded. “What happened, Triena?”

  “Injured?” interjected Manny with concern. He hadn’t known. He hurried forward and saw the makeshift bandage around Jon’s shoulder.

  “It’s all right, Manny. It’s a wound from a percussion weapon. Triena helped me overcome the pain.”

  “I just returned the favor,” she said with a smile. She went on to explain to the others what had happened and how Jon had received his injury while protecting her. Jon appeared embarrassed by the praise and thanks he received.

  “Please it’s not necessary, I did what anyone else would’ve done,” he said in a loud voice to try and cut across the various people speaking at once.

  “You don’t understand. You risked your life to protect our Spirit. You have earned our eternal gratitude,” Sernov replied.

  Jon froze for a moment, before he glanced at Triena. His amazement was clear to all. Manny was perplexed.

  “Your Spirit? What does that mean?” Manny asked.

  “Triena is the Spirit of our People. She has the greatest Gift, and she is our greatest Treasure,” Sernov explained.

  FIVE

  Jon and Manny shared one of the small huts in Sanctuary. Manny wanted to talk about what Jon had learned of the Gift and the Spirit, but Jon didn’t feel like talking. He let Manny chatter away, but in truth he wasn’t listening.

  He was somewhat confused. In the short time he’d known Triena he’d developed feelings for her, emotions he’d never experienced for anyone before. Yet all this talk of her powerful Gift and her position with her people left him feeling bewildered. He’d listened to Triena’s explanation earlier and had somehow treated it as a story that somehow didn’t affect him. Even when she’d helped relieve the pain caused by his wound he’d somehow not let it get through to him just how different she was. He realized now it was because he was so wrapped up in her, in his response to her. Now he was no longer sure what was real.