Hammer of Time (The Reforged Trilogy) (13 page)

Maeve, Panna and Logan hurried to the cargo bay. Gripper was already there, hanging from a support strut and planting the last of his seed reserves. He squeaked as the Blue Phoenix took off. "What's going on?" he asked. "I thought we were staying put for a few hours."

"The police are trying to arrest my people," Maeve said. She paced back and forth across the cargo bay as Sunjarrah raced by in a green and orange blur below.

"I hope you have another speech up your sleeve," Duaal said, voice popping over the intercom. "There are nine cop cars down there and we can't get into a firefight with them."

Gripper swung down and landed with a clang beside Maeve. "What are you going to do, Glass?"

Maeve was not sure, but the Blue Phoenix landed and she hit the airlock controls. Gripper shied back, but Panna and Logan charged out alongside Maeve into the bright white sunlight. A pair of officers – a Mirran in dark glasses and a white-eyed Hadrian – jogged toward the Blue Phoenix. Their guns were still holstered at their waists, but the cops rested hands on their weapons.

"You can't land here," shouted the Hadrian officer. She held an arm across her face. The Blue Phoenix's engines were still rumbling and rippled the yellow grass in hot waves. "We're in the middle of a police action."

"How many officers do you have here?" Logan asked.

"That's none of your business, sir," said the Mirran.

"How many?"

"Fifteen," the Hadrian cop answered. "Now I really need to ask you to leave."

"We're members of the Arcadian group here," Panna said. "Queen Maeve needs to speak with your supervisor."

"Queen?" The two cops looked at each other. The Mirran nodded slowly. "Come with me, miss. Hands off your weapons."

Maeve was not sure what the police officer meant. She did not have her spear. But Logan had not forgotten his laser. He remained very close to Maeve as the cops led her through the ring of cars. The lights on top flashed. Maeve was escorted to one of the flat foundation slabs where Ferris stood silently, chin lifted proudly despite the dirty smears on his lined cheeks. When he saw Maeve, the duke spread his wings.

"Here is our queen," he told another brown-striped Mirran cop rather smugly. "She will have a solution to all of this."

Maeve wanted to shake Ferris. They had already lost every cenmark they had to pay fines. What did he think she could do? Still, she had to try to keep her people out of prison. Maeve gulped and gave the officer – whose brass badge read
Lieutenant Sanhir
– her best smile.

"What seems to be the problem, captain?" Maeve asked, feeling foolish.

"This settlement was condemned a year ago," answered Lieutenant Sanhir. He was a middle-aged man with dark eyes and as chubby around the middle as the gazelle-like Mirrans ever seemed to get. "It's illegal to live here. Your people had already been warned."

"Warned?" Panna hissed under her breath. "You call prison sentences
warnings
?"

Ferris narrowed his amber eyes at the girl and subtly shook his head. Panna's expression remained furious, but she fell silent. Maeve's urge to shake him returned. Did he really think that she was doing any better?

"They… we have nowhere else to go," Maeve said. "Fining and imprisoning them does not change that truth!"

"And it doesn't stop it from being illegal," Sanhir countered. He looked over his sunglasses at Maeve. "Mister Vallerian–"

"Verridian," Ferris corrected hotly. "Duke Ferris Verridian."

"Whatever." Sanhir kept his gaze leveled at Maeve. "He says that you've declared yourself queen of this little crowd. If that's true, it's in violation of about a hundred Sunjarran laws."

"Ah–" Maeve did not know what to say. She combed her fingers through her neatly arranged black curls. She could imagine Duaal wincing as he watched her. "What defines
squatting
under your laws?"

Sanhir arched a thick eyebrow. His dark green hair was receding, but the Mirran's brows remained thick and bushy. "Sleeping and storage of personal belongings in a non-residential zoned area for more than fifty-four hours."

Maeve seized on her tenuous idea. "Then we can leave," she announced loudly. "No one will remain to violate your laws."

Sanhir crossed his arms over his chest. His sidearm shined brightly in the luminous sunlight. It was well polished and cared for, but not unused. The police lieutenant did not have to be fit to be a dangerous shot with a laser. His nostrils flared as Sanhir took a long breath.

"Technically, these fairies have already broken the law," he said. Maeve's wings curled angrily, but Sanhir wasn't done. The police lieutenant looked at Ferris before continuing. "But it's a civil issue, not a violent crime, and corrections
are
allowed in civil cases. It's going to take forever to collect you lot and more taxpayer cenmarks than any of you deserve."

Maeve swallowed the insult and kept smiling. "Then you will let us leave?"

"If you and your people are out of New Hennor by tonight, I can report the case corrected."

"Tonight?" Maeve repeated. "That is very little time."

"Best I can do." Sanhir looked over her head at the Blue Phoenix. "And if you're really calling yourself queen of this flock, I suggest you leave Sunjarrah entirely."

"I… Yes," Maeve said. Tonight? How could she move thirty-seven people by morning?

"We'll be back at oh-seven tomorrow," Lieutenant Sanhir told her. "Anyone still here by then will be leaving with us."

Maeve nodded dumbly. Sanhir said something into a silver com hooked around his ear. The police withdrew to their cars, turned on humming orange null-inertia fields and drove away toward New Hennor. Duaal jogged across the sunburnt grass to Maeve, looking back over his shoulder at the retreating police.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We need to get everyone onto the Blue Phoenix and off Sunjarrah," Logan said. "It needs to be done by seven tomorrow morning."

"Off Sunjarrah?" Duaal rubbed his cheek. "Can't we just take them back to Nanpoor? That's where you were supposed to talk tonight."

"No." Logan shook his head. "We can make one pickup tonight, but then we need to get off the planet."

"You really think the cops will chase us off Sunjarrah?" Panna asked skeptically.

"We will not be welcome anywhere on this world," Maeve said. She shook herself and looked at Duaal. "Logan is right. We will take with us those we can from Nanpoor, and then we must go."

"With more than thirty Arcadians? On the Blue Phoenix? It's going to be a tight fit, Maeve," the Hyzaari said, frowning. "And that's not including anyone you pick up tonight."

Ferris drew himself up and gave Maeve an unhappy look. "Do you truly intend for us to leave Sunjarrah, a'shae?" he asked.

"We must," Maeve told him. "We cannot remain here. I am sorry. I know that your daughter is still in prison here."

The old fairy noble closed his eyes. "Il'mani was attacked in prison last night. No one will say who did it. They broke both of her wings."

"That's why the police came out," Panna said. "Isn't it? To tell you what happened? But you don't have a proper address in New Hennor, so they came back to the last location of record."

"Are you saying that this is my fault, little wingless one?" Ferris asked in a raw, angry voice. For the first time, Maeve noticed how red the other Arcadian's eyes were, as though he had run out of tears and would soon begin weeping blood. "You blame me?"

"No," Maeve answered. She stepped between Panna and Ferris. "It does not matter why it has happened. We must take action, not lay blame."

"What action?" Duaal asked. "Maeve, we'll have a ship full of fairies. What are we going to do with them? There isn't space and there sure aren't enough filters or food to handle them for long."

"We are meant for the sky, not the empty darkness of space." Ferris' expression remained unhappy, but the duke would clearly rather be working on the problem at hand than worrying over his own.

"We have to take them somewhere else," said Logan.

"Where?" Duaal put his hands in his pocket and kicked a clump of brown grass. It clung stubbornly to the ground, not quite dead and ready to be uprooted. "We're not exactly in the middle of New Hennor out here and the police are still routing them. Where can we go that isn't going to invite more police visits?"

"Prianus," Logan suggested. "There are Arcadians there and the Prian police have their priorities straight. They wouldn't bother with squatters when there's plenty of real crime to deal with. And the Prians don't have the same distaste for Arcadians that the rest of the Alliance does."

Ferris and Panna flinched at Logan's bluntness, but Maeve knew he was right. Most coreworld species wanted the Arcadians off their planets and would do much the same as the Sunjarrans did now. But Prianus was a long, long way from the deep core. It was dangerous, too; cold and full of predators.

"No. Though I would never begrudge you the chance to return to your homeworld, enarri–" Maeve said. Logan opened his mouth to protest, but she held up one hand. "–I have another thought. It is a little closer and a little less dangerous than Prianus. Stray."

"Stray?" Panna said, loudly and suddenly. "Maeve, you can't be serious!"

"This is your
queen
you address!" Ferris hissed.

Panna's face went quite red. "Sorry, Highness," she muttered. "But Stray? That's where the old Church of Nihil was! Stray is dangerous."

"More dangerous than Prianus?" Maeve asked.

Panna chewed her lip and sighed. "I… I guess not. And there is a lot more ship traffic going to and from Stray than Prianus. If we're going to be stealing more Arcadians from Xartasia and bring them to us, then we'll need that advantage."

"We have some allies on Stray," Maeve told her. "And the police, we know all too well, will not raise their hand against us unless well paid to do so."

"Stray, then," Duaal said. "I'll get the Blue Phoenix prepped. It's going to be a crowded trip. We'd better make it as short as possible."

The Hyzaari mage turned on his heels and headed back toward the Blue Phoenix, already calling Gripper up on his com. Panna moved to follow, then stopped and looked back. "Maeve… Majesty… What about Xartasia?" she asked. The question was barely audible. "She's doing the same thing as we are. Do you think she's had the same problem?"

"I do not think so," Maeve answered. "The police have given reports on our doings and would do the same for her, yet none have been made. She can be on no Alliance planet."

"Then where do you think she is?"

________

"Khylor hasn't returned yet. Neither have those little wing-rats that went with him."

It was Orix, the youngest of Glorious. He stood with four of the other huge aliens, starlight playing over his nanite-slicked black skin and long, sharp teeth. Smoky tendrils of his swarm snaked out and back, gathering information and sending it back to the Devourer's implanted computers, transmitting data to the rest of his alien squadron.

"Sir Calathan is a knight of the White Kingdom," Xartasia said. She did not turn to look at the Devourer. "You will speak of him with due respect."

"He is a slave, aerad," Orix snarled. "A meal–"

Dhozo cut him off. "Enough."

Orix's grinding, grating voice said something else, something that he did not bother to send to his nanites for translation. Dhozo held up a fist the size of Xartasia's head and made a curt motion with it and Orix reluctantly quieted. The young Devourer glared at his commander.

Xartasia smoothed her gleaming pearl-white gown. An Arcadian woman, Ailo, stood up on her tiptoes to place the delicate glass crown on her queen's brow. Xartasia stood. The crown caught the light of neon tubes in the high ceiling and threw back brilliant rainbows.

Dhozo took in the little queen's clothes. "Again?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "As often as it takes to soothe my people's spirits. They do not like being in space, so far from any open sky. You are the commander of your team, Dhozo. You should know the value of trust. I would not violate my people's faith. You will aid me in that."

Ailo smoothed out Xartasia's long white skirts behind her. They flowed like cream along the floor. Orix took a long step toward her, looming over the Arcadian queen. Ailo leapt back with a frightened moan, hiding behind her wings. Unflinching, Xartasia looked up into the Devourer's wide onyx face. Orix's nanite armor writhed across his skin like a living thing.

"I do not fear you," she reminded him. "You and yours have already taken from me what I loved most. Now you will help me to get him… get it all back."

"Why do we have to help this little wing-rat slave?" Orix rumbled like a storm. "We were supposed to take the Projector, open it and bring the rest!"

"You know why," Dhozo hissed. The sound was like water poured over coals, hot enough to burn and blister. "There is more than meat for us here. We cannot reopen the Projectors ourselves, not without the old science."

"The
magic
she says she can teach us?" Orix shouted. He waved a huge, razor-clawed hand at Xartasia. "She hasn't given us anything, commander!"