Adrian held up a hand, and pressed himself against the wall, signalling that they should fall in and fall silent. They were at an intersection, and Laphor guessed that there was something around the corner that the human didn’t like.
He jabbed his finger in the direction of the opposing wall, and Laphor took a good look; the wall was scarred with obvious signs of focused heat damage, and the molten slag all over the floor told a very specific story.
“Definitely some kind of focused plasma weapon,” Mando whispered. “Turret?”
Adrian shook his head. “You hear that?”
Laphor listened, hearing a strange robotic sound. “Another drone?”
“More dangerous,” Adrian replied. “It’s their resident Dinosaur Terminator. The Zhadersil had one of these fuckers as well, and it just about roasted my guys.”
“How did you beat it?” she asked.
“It got confused when it tried gene-scanning me,” he replied. “Then I shot it through the head with an explosive spear. I’m guessing that this one already knows who I am.”
That did not sound good. “And we really need to go down that corridor?”
“The Command Deck is right behind it,” he explained, “so we don’t have much fucking choice. That thing is there to protect whoever is left in that room.”
Laphor nodded; it was sound reasoning. Any capable military force would fall back to the most vital and secure parts of the ship. With the leadership group dead, there’d obviously been a disagreement between the survivors about what should be done, with some trying to escape while the rest determined to continue the defence. “So what’s the plan? You could use the cloaking device to surprise it…”
He licked his lips as he considered it. “No… it might see right through that, and then I’m just a scorch mark… fuck, it’s moments like these that the only thing I want for Christmas is a frag grenade.”
Mando rustled through his equipment and produced a belt full of individual devices covered with V’Straki iconography. “Any of these fit the bill?”
Grabbing the belt, Adrian ran his eyes across it. “Maybe… yeah, but who fucking knows what does what?”
“You can’t read it?” Laphor asked, surprised.
“It’s not writing, just symbols,” he replied. “I have no idea what any of it means. Hopefully it’s all a real bad time for old mate around there… you guys should take maybe a dozen big steps back.”
They did not need to be told twice, especially when Adrian began activating every device in the belt, and running was the obvious choice. They were already behind the next available corner when Adrian tossed the whole belt around the corner and launched into a full sprint.
A bright blue beam traced the corridor just before the explosion engulfed it. A roll of thunder swept through the ship, shaking everything and blasting it with an almighty roar. Even with the insulation of the vacuum suits it was deafening, but the main problem was the enormous wall of fire that chased Adrian down the corridor. He shouted a long, drawn out curse word as he ran by, and the mercenaries stumbled back at the approaching flames; clearly a dozen paces would not have been far enough.
Their vacuum suits protected them from the worst of it, though Laphor was pretty sure they’d never be serviceable again. Each of them was cooked a darker shade of brown as the fiery wave passed over them, and external oxygen levels dropped to concerningly low figures.
“We’re going to need new suits after this,” Mando said, checking over his stash of equipment. “And things.”
Adrian was further down the corridor, resting hard against a wall and breathing heavy. He looked up as they approached and grinned. “Think it liked its gift?”
Mando chuckled. “I don’t hear any complaints. How’s the air?”
The human grimaced. “I’ve had better. The environmental shit should kick in pretty quick, but I’m glad I fuckin’ legged it as fast as I did—I already stink like burnt hair.”
Laphor didn’t bother to comment on that; the human had reeked for as long as she’d known him. That said, he was right: oxygen levels were already on the rise. “That was a bigger bang than you were expecting, so are we still going to get through there?”
Adrian shrugged. “No idea. Only one way to find out.”
Unfortunately true, but at least there wasn’t going to be much in the way of defences left. They walked slowly down the corridor, painfully aware of every creak the broken floor and walls made, and found the last part of corridor was practically destroyed. Walls were broken, the floor was buckled and torn, and pieces of the ceiling were drooping above a pile of robotic remains. The door behind it had warped under the tremendous force, and was jammed half-open with only darkness behind it.
Nudging Laphor to get her attention, Mando nodded in the direction of the shadows. “Think anybody’s home?”
“Earlier? Definitely,” she replied. “Now they’re either dead, or feeling worse for wear. They will know we’re coming.”
“You’re right,” Adrian said quietly, and held out his hand. “I’m going to need that cloak, you all get back to the corner.”
Laphor nodded her assent as Mando handed over the device, and ordered her group to retreat to a respectable distance while Adrian did whatever a cloaked Deathworlder would do in this situation. Light shifted around him until only a scarcely visible distortion remained, and then vanished into the darkened room.
++++
++++
Adrian Saunders
Thanks to the explosion, the Command Deck had seen better days, with consoles closest to the entrance no longer in a working condition, and everything stank of molten plastics. Barring the light provided by the idling consoles, every light in the room had been turned off, and there was no trace of sound or movement. That didn’t mean there was nothing here to be wary of, however, because there was no reason to stick a Termisaurus outside if it wasn’t defending something; he kept low and crept around the Command Deck until he finally saw it.
The V’Straki was unconscious, or on the verge of it, and had collapsed into a powered-down terminal. A toolkit nearby suggested that he was in the process of modifying it when the shockwave hit him, but fortunately it didn’t look like he’d actually finished the job.
The V’Straki moved slightly, and groaned, unhappily awake. Adrian kicked him in the side and pressed the gun against the nape of its neck. “Looks like you have had a bad day.”
The V’Straki coughed, and stared vacantly up at him. “Personal cloaking technology,” he concluded after a moment of confusion. “Very clever, though not much use against our scanners.”
“Useful enough against your men,” Adrian replied, “especially when I break your scanners. They had a bad day, too.”
The V’Straki chuckled through another cough. “Yes… yes, they certainly did. Jrasic was a fool to trust you to play by his rules. Now he is dead, and you control his ship.”
“And you were trying to circumvent that?” Adrian asked, making a guess. He’d locked the Command Deck out of the ship-control systems, but it was possible to patch around it if you knew what you were doing. “Does that make you an Officer, or a Technician?”
“Technician?!” the V’Straki choked out the word in disgust. “I am Artiz, the most senior blue-chip on board.”
Adrian prodded again with his gun. With his entire education based on V’Straki technology and whatever crap Xayn was rambling about, he had no idea how the V’Straki military was ranked, or a lot of other things for that matter. “I will need you to educate me on what that means.”
“Ah, it means I am part of the Learned caste,” Artiz explained. “Scientists, social advisors, engineers and medical men are all members. My role here was research into spatial distortion testing, though Jrasic had me manning the sensor suite like some plebeian operator.”
Adrian laughed. “Research successful?”
“More successful than intended,” Artiz replied bitterly. “How did you manage to take control of the ship and the drones?”
There was not going to be a straight answer to that one. “By having friends in the right places.”
Artiz approved. “Wisely ambiguous, as expected. You know, Scava had the idea to continually scan you and try to separate the fact from the lies, but you continually fell into that grey area. I think he found it infuriating.”
Adrian frowned as realisation hit him. “You are not afraid of me, then?”
“No,” Artiz admitted, closing his eyes and sighing. “If you intend to kill me, I can hardly stop you, and perhaps it would be a mercy. I know what you are, Adrian Saunders, and that means I can guess a lot of the rest. I do not like the answers.”
“Go on,” Adrian prompted.
“We knew we had traversed time,” Artiz explained, “but the others imagined it may only be a few decades. Clearly the Zhadersil exists, and you are at war, so it is easy to see why they wanted to believe that.”
Adrian nodded. “You think otherwise?”
Grunting with annoyance, Artiz shook his head as much as the gun would allow. “I said I know. The stars have moved too much, and you are undoubtedly both born of Strak’kel and have naturally evolved. I would say that over fifty million years have passed, and I doubt that either the Empire or the Alliance have survived those timeframes. Yes?”
“Yes,” Adrian confirmed.
“So I have already lost everything, young Shiplord,” Artiz continued, his voice ragged. “My species and society are both dust, and you have inherited a relic. Evidently we were not the ‘dangerous carnivores’ the galaxy thought us to be—certainly not dangerous enough to stand the test of time.”
“The galaxy thinks a lot of things,” said Adrian, “and it can mostly get fucked. I am bringing my friends in now, do not try anything brave.”
Artiz shrugged, resigned to his fate, and lay there as Adrian switched off the cloaking field and called the mercenaries in.
Laphor looked at the V’Straki, then at Adrian; her eyes asking the question for her.
“He’s got answers,” Adrian told her. “I haven’t made a decision about anything else. Keep an eye on him while I get Trix plugged back in.”
Laphor raised the gun and pointed it at the V’Straki scientist. “You should tell him not to move.”
“Do not move,” Adrian translated. “I do not think she would let you die quickly.”
“Understood,” Artiz replied, taking pains to avoid moving anything other than his mouth. “Nice friends you have.”
Adrian ignored him and set about getting Trix plugged back into something more useful—in this case the Shiplord’s own seat—before the rogue V’Straki could take control of the sub-light drive. Almost identical to the one aboard the Zhadersil, the process scarcely required thinking about, and moments later she was hooked up and ready to go. “Hope this works better for you.”
“It does,” she replied. “Good job, and you’ve got a new pet V’Straki. Artiz Attetto? The records are impressive… are you going to keep him?”
“Depends on his attitude,” said Adrian. “He knows how much time has passed, and has pretty much guessed the rest of it, so he’s not hugely motivated.”
“You’re going to restore his species!” she reminded him. “Motivate him with that! When was the last time you had someone that smart on your team?”
“You’re pretty smart,” Adrian replied, smiling.
She laughed in genuine amusement. “Someone who doesn’t live in a tiny box?”
“Point taken,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Taking over from Laphor, he pointed Artiz to the nearest chair. “Take a seat.”
“Are you going to kill me sitting down?” Artiz asked dryly. “Or are you hoping for more information? I may have no loyalty to Jrasic, and the Empire may be gone, but I still have my honour.”
“Nothing I ask you will violate that,” Adrian promised. “I want to know about the memory implants.”
“The Imprints?” Artiz asked in confusion. “They just work to aid in learning, strengthening our social construct, and in achieving our caste goals. Mine, for example, provided me with the impetus to study a range of sciences, and with the subconscious groundwork to learn it quickly. Yours would help you learn about starship design and how their systems work, and would encourage you to use that knowledge to fight the enemy. Given this conversation, and what you did to the crew, you have probably noticed that much.”
Adrian nodded; that was about what he had expected, and it matched his experience up until he’d woken up on Agwar. “You are saying I should not just remember it all like a normal memory?”
Artiz’s eyes widened. “No… no that would be very confusing for the Implantee. You would have decades of memories you did not actually experience.”
“Pretty much,” said Adrian, frowning. “Good times.”
Artiz just stared at him. “By the Light of the Emperor… no wonder you are so dangerous! That is how you know our language… and our systems.”
Adrian nodded the confirmation; this had to be something to do with the space-meth. “What would you do if you had control of this ship?”
“Are you intending to give it to me?” Artiz asked wryly. “Honestly… I have no idea. I have no purpose, and since I mostly hated all those red-chips you killed I do not even feel a need to repay the trouble you have caused.”
That seemed about as close as Adrian was going to get to a friendly answer. “Then there are three things you should know. The first is that everyone outside this room is about to suck hard vacuum.”
“Ah,” said Artiz, wincing slightly, “they really are having a bad day.”
“The second is that one of my friends is a brain in a box,” Adrian continued. “Introduce yourself, Trix?”
“Hello!” she greeted in V’Straki. “Sorry, I am a bit preoccupied with the aforementioned ‘killing everyone’ plan.”
Artiz looked around the room and back to Adrian in alarm. “An artificial intelligence!? But you were fighting one…”
“There is nothing artificial about her,” Adrian said firmly. “A pack of arseholes sucked her mind out of her body and stuffed it in a computer, now she is stuck like this.”
“And she is not insane?” Artiz asked, equal parts surprised and horrified. “We knew the Alliance was testing that technology, but it always ended poorly.”
“No more than usual,” Trix replied candidly. “I cannot say it has been easy.”
Artiz nodded seriously. “What is the third thing?”
Adrian grinned as he made the big reveal. “I am going to bring your species back from the dead.”
“What?” Artiz asked, uncomprehending.
“I have a V’Straki friend, and he has a gene-bank,” Adrian explained, “so that was my promise to him.”
“I still do not understand,” replied Artiz, thoroughly confused. “What do you have to gain from that? Why would you kill everyone aboard the Dastasji if that was your objective!?”
Adrian grew serious. “Because this crew have been wiping out the natives like they were nothing. That does not work for me; what these new V’Straki become will not be stained by the beliefs of the old.”
Understanding lit Artiz’s face. “You are giving us a new start… a chance to begin again, untainted by False Gods or the hatred of the Alliance… what do you get out of this?”
“The people who did this to Trix are the same people who are wiping out every other intelligent species,” Adrian explained. “They tried it on my world, they will try it anywhere we set up these new V’Straki, and they were trying it here until my… friend put a stop to it.”
“You want revenge?” Artiz guessed.
Adrian shook his head firmly. “I want to stop them, but I do not know how. And I want to preserve those they have tried to destroy. Because fuck them.”
Artiz was silent for a long minute. “A noble goal. There are echoes of the early days of the Empire, before we became consumed by the Long War, and now I wonder if there were deeper reasons that we were the only carnivorous species to achieve space travel. There were not even that many omnivores… it was always strange.”
“Will you help?” Adrian asked pointedly.
“Yes,” Artiz replied decisively. “I will. I do not agree with your means, but this is an opportunity to bring us back… better than we were. Just do not ask me to fight for you.”
“Quick update for everyone,” Trix announced in both languages at once. “We are now descending to a more comfortable altitude, and I am already fabricating some janitorial drones. I am glad to say we have removed all hostiles.”
“There’s still one left,” Laphor noted coldly, pointing her gun at the V’Straki scientist with obvious hostility. “Don’t be stupid, Adrian. He has to go.”
“He is going,” Adrian replied, “off the ship, just not on this shitty planet.”
“He can’t be trusted,” she persisted.
He glared at her. “You came here to kill me along with a bunch of brain-eating parasites,” he reminded her. “Trust is pretty fucking flexible at times. Besides, you were looking to jump off at Perfection, so you won’t be around to suffer if there is a problem.”
“He’s right,” Mando interjected. “None of this is our problem once we’re back in civilisation. We can get a new ship, find a new crew, and just take a few normal jobs where we kill the enemy for money.”
Laphor took a step back. “Fine. Keep him on a leash.”
“I do not need to speak the language to tell she does not like me,” Artiz noted, scarcely relaxing. “Am I to be murdered in my sleep?”
“No,” said Adrian, “you are not.”
“Such a relief,” he replied, without looking particularly relieved. “What is your next objective? Apart from the clean-up exercise your digital friend alluded to.”
“Next we grab some natives, and then we work on getting the fuck out of this star system,” Adrian told him.
“And the artificial intelligence?” Artiz asked. “You were still intending to destroy it?”
Adrian nodded. “In a manner of speaking, yeah. I am.”
++++
++++
DATE POINT: 5Y 2M 2W 4D AV
Aladyn
Too many days had passed with no word from Adrian, and each held more significance than the last. Every sunset seemed to diminish the chances that the brave human still drew breath. It left Aladyn at a loose end; the mood in the settlement was slowly turning against him, and things would get nasty when they finally decided to act. It would unfold quickly, Aladyn knew that much, and they would have little time to escape if they left it that late.
That was why he and Dalon were quietly taking matters into their own hands, and had been secreting supplies in a hidden cache just beyond the tree-line. Barring a disaster—or a miracle—they’d soon be ready to make their escape, Kalen’s inner-turmoil be damned.
“How many more days do you think we can do this?” he asked Dalon as they met by the stream at the edge of the settlement. Fish had been sighted, and they’d taken the offer to help as a chance to have a conversation away from curious ears. Dalon was ever mindful of being overheard, however, and insisted against plain-speaking. “The fish, I mean. I think we can keep catching them for three more days.”
He shared a meaningful look with Dalon, who already knew exactly what was going on. “Two. By then we will have all the fish we need, and if we spend too much time in the river we’re likely to fall asleep and have an accident.”
That would make sense, Aladyn thought, if he wanted to kill two seasoned fighters, murdering them in their sleep would definitely be the safest way. “Two, then.”
Two days and they’d be leaving at the darkest hour, grabbing the supplies, and heading west until they’d left the lands of the old Kingdom and made it to the Chansik plains. What it was like there they could not say—odds were good it was more jungle and oversized animals—but maybe it was far enough that there were still cities, and all they’d need to do was find them. It’d be nice to return to some normalcy, even if it did leave them as beggars in a strange land, though first they’d need to elude the night beasts, body-stealers and Crawlers, which was more easily said than done. They would need to stay together at all times to avoid their bodies being stolen without the other knowing.
“And you’ll be pleased to know that I found where to dig,” Dalon added without context.
It wasn’t needed, Aladyn knew exactly what he was talking about. Yalin root was an uncommon plant that provided a certain pleasant sensation in particular body parts, and also provided the consumer with persistent wakefulness. It was also known, rather euphemistically, as the ‘love root’, and the old Kingdom had made it illegal amongst the lower echelons of society. There was nobody left to outlaw it anymore, and many bellies had swollen as a result, but it was still not so easy to find. “Good work.”
Dalon snorted. “Look back on it when we have the river well behind us, and see if you still feel the same way.”
Aladyn admitted that he probably wouldn’t. He’d rather not go wandering the jungle in the grip of Yalin root with Dalon at his side, but the need to stay awake and alert trumped any other considerations. “Hmm,” he said, looking to the sky, “it’s starting to get dark. We should—”
Even from the river they could hear the commotion in the settlement. Something had happened—or was still happening—and there was a general sense of alarm. Aladyn traded a meaningful glance with Dalon, and the pair went back ashore to carefully check it out.
They saw it in full as they emerged onto the road: a sky-ship crafted of metal and made with sharp angles. It was of the lizard-creatures’ design—there was no doubt about that—but it wasn’t currently killing everyone and nobody was screaming in terror.
This, they quickly concluded, was a very good sign, and it was impossible to identify the small figure they saw on the ramp as anyone but Adrian Saunders—no matter his clothing, grooming, or general level of hygiene, there was nothing else on the planet that looked quite like him.
“Well, it doesn’t look as though he’s switched sides,” Dalon mused, “no matter what he’s wearing. Maybe his crazy plan actually worked.”
“Seems unlikely,” Aladyn replied. It had been a terrible plan, after all. “But nobody is dead.”
Dalon nodded slowly. “Not yet, anyway. We should intervene before the people do something incredibly stupid.”
Aladyn sighed; they really didn’t have the goodwill to manage this, and they also didn’t have a choice—if the locals attacked Adrian, there were only two outcomes: death, or a more lingering death. “Shit.”
The local elders had already taken the fore by the time they had got there, and were demanding that Adrian hand over all his weapons in a show of good faith.
“My ‘good faith’ is not killing you, dipshit,” Adrian replied, never one for diplomacy, and tapped his weapon indicatively. He nodded towards Aladyn and Dalon as they came around the outside of the ship. “Fellas.”
“Shit,” Dalon echoed as he took in the general sentiment. “We may have lifted more than we can carry.”
“We’ll see,” said Aladyn as he raised his arms to the crowd. “Please, let’s all just take a step back and breathe. Obviously this is a bit unexpected, but Adrian is not here to do us any harm.”
“He just threatened to kill us!” Elder Fargas returned, looking extremely disgruntled about it. “There are some who say he is responsible for the Change, and all it included!”
Aladyn did not doubt that Adrian had been involved, but he believed that direct responsibility must lay elsewhere; there were just too many problems for him to be behind everything, and he’d clearly been the enemy of most of them. “No,” he began, “If anything, I’d say he was here to kill those who were behind it. Is that right, Adrian?”
The human nodded slowly. “For the most part.”
“Then maybe you could explain why you are here today?” Aladyn suggested. The settlement knew what they’d been told, of course, but it was another matter to hear it directly. “You were last seen fighting the lizards.”
“I went to their ship,” he replied, speaking to the crowd. “And I killed them. All but one, who had no hand in the crimes against your people, and now he works for me.”
“Good!” Fargas shouted back, still openly hostile. “Thank you. Feel free to leave any time you like.”
Adrian frowned, and began addressing Fargas loudly enough that all could hear. “I’m told there was a kingdom here. Before the Change, yes?”
“Yes,” Fargas confirmed. “We were living in the shadow of the Dark One, but we were a strong nation. At least until—”
Adrian did not let him finish. “And now your king is dead. Your kingdom is dead. I’m sorry, but it’s gone and it isn’t coming back.”
He said this with a finality that managed to disquiet the cantankerous old man. “We… No, the world has changed, but we are here to rebuild. With careful guidance, our people will reclaim the surface world and build new cities, new—”
“No,” Adrian interrupted, his tone flat and factual. “This world is ruined, and it will come to an end in your lifetimes. The food is already harder to get, yes? I know it is, and it will get worse. If you stay here your people will go hungry, your children will die, and it will because you, Elder, made the wrong decision today.”
Fargas scowled, sharing a look with his fellow Elders. “You do not know us, creature of the stars. We are not of yours. What do you imagine is the right choice?”
“Come with me to the stars,” Adrian replied to instant clamour. He waited for the Elders to quieten the crowd before continuing. “There are other worlds out there, with good hunting grounds and open spaces for the cities of your children. My sky-ship is very large, and I intend to carry as many of your kind as will come, so let me be clear: I will have my answer by nightfall, and I will not be making this offer a second time.”
He withdrew, stepping backwards onto the metal vessel and climbing the ramp. “Go make your choice.”
The entire settlement broke into an argument the Elders struggled to placate while Adrian sat on the ramp and watched, his weapon laid crosswise over his lap. Aladyn and Dalon, having no part in the choice the settlement made, stepped onto the ramp and joined him.
Adrian nodded to them. “How’s Kalen?”
“He continues as he was,” Dalon replied grimly.
“Sometimes they do,” said Adrian, biting a lip as he considered the scene before them. “Think they’ll make the right decision?”
“You undermined the authority of the Elders,” Aladyn told him. “Anything might happen.”
“Old cocks shouldn’t doom the young,” the human replied crudely.
Aladyn chuckled; it was nice to know that the same Adrian existed in spite of all outward differences.
Looking them over, Adrian tilted his head towards the settlement.“What about the two of you?”
Aladyn shrugged, and looked to Dalon. “There’s nothing left for us here. Maybe it’ll be better on this new world you’re talking about.”
Dalon nodded. “Sounds interesting, but what aren’t you telling us?”
Adrian frowned, hesitating before he replied. “The enemy is concentrated in this region. We’ll need to destroy it all if we want to save the most lives possible.”
“Destroy it!?” Aladyn asked in alarm. “There are people here! Families!”
“There are families everywhere,” Adrian returned, grimacing. “I’m not in love with this fucking plan, but I’ve already told them that they’re dead if they stay.”
“You didn’t tell them you’d be the one doing it!” Dalon pointed out. “They might have responded a bit differently. Maybe they’d just come along out of fear?”
“Without resisting every chance they got?” Adrian asked, eyebrow raised. “We both know that wouldn’t happen. That’s why I need the two of you from now on—you’ll be able to talk to the settlements properly. I’d love it if we could somehow get everyone, but I know that’s unlikely.”
“Especially with people like Fargas resisting any more changes,” Aladyn replied. He looked to Dalon. “We need to do this… we can’t just rely on this star-being to fix our problems and make the hard choices. We need a hand in this.”
Nodding in agreement, Dalon pressed for further information. “It seems obvious to me: you kill the least amount of people to save the most lives. You should have no guilt in that decision.”
“Easy to say,” Adrian said bitterly, “less easy to do.”
“The world is a mess,” Dalon bluntly returned, “get used to it. Nothing will ever be perfectly clean, and if these people choose death then that is their right. You are not obligated to save any of us… you have already done far more than we could ask for.”
He was being frank, but Dalon was correct. The Chosen One had come here of her own will, and had defeated the Dark One, and Adrian Saunders had done the same against the nightmare hordes. He had been stranded here for his efforts, continued to fight in spite of a lack of appreciation, and had finally secured a means of saving their race from complete destruction. The extent to which the people of Agwar had relied on outside intervention was galling, and it had to end.
The last rays of daylight left the sky, heralding an end to the allotted time, though there was still no end to the argument. Rising to his feet, Adrian traversed the ramp and began the brief walk back to the settlement. “I hope at least some of them have made a decision.”
Aladyn very much doubted it; Fargas in particular was unlikely to bend to opinions that didn’t match his own. He even continued speaking as the rest of the crowd hushed at Adrian’s arrival, and had the temerity to turn and glare at the human with annoyance. “We have not had enough time! We are still discussing the—”
“Do you want to die?” Adrian asked flatly. “Do you want to die starving? Do you want to be slowly torn apart by monsters? Do you want your children to die that way? I’d think the answer was pretty fucking simple if you look at it like that. It’s not a hard concept to fucking grasp!”
Fargas’ eyes widened at the display of disrespect. “It is not that simple! These are our lands, our homes. We fought for them, bled for them, and we cannot just abandon them on your say-so! We have survived the Change, and we will survive anything else that comes our way.”
“No,” said Dalon, his voice loud, clear, and emotionless, “you won’t. I’ve seen what is out there… I know what awaits those who stay. You’ll die screaming, old man, and condemn all these people to the same! They should think twice about why they put their trust in you.”
It was a clear challenge to Fargas and the Elders as a whole, and the crowd seemed suitably troubled by the words. People put their trust into the Elders because age brought experience and wisdom, but nobody was stupid enough to imagine they couldn’t ever be wrong. Dalon had planted a seed that could save many lives, if Adrian just gave it the chance.
It worked in a way, because when the human next spoke he pointedly did not include the Elders. “Letting a group of old men decide your family’s fate is not smart. If you want to join me, there’s room. If you don’t, then it’s your decision. I’ll make as many trips as needed, but the first one leaves at dawn. Bring the things you need, and as much food as you’re able to carry. Good night.”
With that he stepped away from the settlement and returned to his vessel. The ramp rose with a gentle hiss until it was closed, and the strange metal ship was silent. People took it as the cue to return to their homes; all eyes averted from the stunned circle of Elders, and every voice remained silent. There was no need for words, all their choices had already been made.
++++
++++
End of Chapter