Son of Orlan (The Chronicles of Kin Roland Book 2) (11 page)

“What’s wrong with him?” Rickson asked.

“Memories.”

Rickson took several steps before speaking again. “You both
act like you’re seeing ghosts.”

“We all have our ghosts.” Kin’s attention was drawn by a
Ror-Rea attack. Winged warriors swooped low, wave after wave, slashing Imperial
troopers with swords. The Imperials returned fire, missing more often than not.

“I think about Bear every day.” Rickson’s voice quieted. He
glanced at the battle, but focused on Tass, who didn’t speak as she stared
toward the conflagration of death.

“He was a good friend.”

Rickson nodded. “I wish he was here. He made me laugh.”

Kin pointed to a rock outcropping. “We’ll rest here for a
while.” He checked on Orlan and saw him moving to catch up. “Bear made his
choices. I miss him. I’ll never have another friend like him. And I miss that
too.”

RICKSON sat beside Kin as Orlan
left to scout the area.

Kin finished stowing what little gear he had left. “What is
it? You look upset.”

“Tass knows where they’re keeping Captain Raien.” Rickson
hesitated. “I think you should talk to Nander. Maybe he can confirm what Tass
says.”

Kin nodded. “I’ll need some time with Tass. Keep the
Imperial occupied. I don’t want him listening.”

Moments later, Rickson plagued Nander with a thousand
questions, asking about Imperial life, food, and their ships.

Kin bowed to the Ror-Rea woman and joined her. She narrowed
warrior eyes, even as she blushed.

“You honor me too much. I am not a great hero. Do not bow
your head to me. Eye contact is sufficient.”

Kin resisted the urge to nod understanding. He looked into
her eyes. Brilliant courage and sadness glowed like windows to utopia. “I spoke
to Rickson. He told me you know where they are holding our captain.”

She bowed her head, nearly touching her chin to her chest.

Grimacing, Kin studied her and wondered what else he didn’t
know about the winged race.
Dax never bows to me. Not like that.

Tass raised her gaze. “My squadron leader believed his twin
captured. We went to the Imperial camp to rescue him.”

“The fortress city on the coast, or the mountain base?”

“The mountain base.”

Kin waited for more.

“The Mazz were preparing for battle. We slipped past them,
liberated Gasid, but he could not stop babbling about the salamander. Guards
discovered us. Only I survived.”

“Did you see Captain Raien?”

“I would have died as well, but the shepherd helped me
flee.” She swallowed as she finished speaking, eyes on the ground.

“You’ll fight another day. I don’t doubt your courage.” Kin
felt she would answer his question, given time. Grief and humiliation stressed
each of her words. This was a hard tale.

Tass touched her left shoulder with her right hand, which
Kin had learned was a sign of acknowledgment similar to a nod. She settled into
a sitting position with her back to the rock, ignoring Kin.

Kin nearly asked again about Captain Raien, but understood
she was gathering her thoughts. When she spoke, her voice resounded with
confident detail.

“They held Gasid beneath a battle tank, in a bunker.
Imperials park war machines astride such underground fortifications for added
protection. Gasid was alone, but claimed a human officer was kept in a similar
arrangement.”

Kin imagined the Imperial camp, deciding Tass’s description
fit. “Do you remember any markings?”

Tass touched her left shoulder without breaking eye contact.
“The tank over Gasid’s prison bore the numbers BT-M 587 and two words I could
not read.”

“What about a picture?”

Tass grimaced. “A pair of torn-off wings covered in blood
surrounded the words and numbers.”

“What about the tank covering Raien’s cell?”

Tass concentrated for several minutes. “I cannot be sure.
Gasid remembered it was close.”

“Did you look for it?”

“No, we left with Gasid. He was already making too much
noise.” She paused. “I am sorry we did not find your leader.”

Kin gripped his hands together. He wasn’t certain what the
gesture meant, but thought it conveyed understanding and acceptance.  “This
helps. Thank you.”

Tass touched her shoulder again, but paled visibly.

“Can you tell me about the salamander?” He waited, though
she didn’t hesitate long.

“Gasid was confused. He claimed the salamander was a man and
commanded fire that melted stone. The Mazz tortured him. He was hurt.” Tass
touched her temple and looked to Kin for understanding. “Hurt in his head.”

Kin nodded before he realized what he had done. He quickly
tapped his left shoulder. “Have you spoke with Nander?”

“I do not speak with Mazz.”

Kin thanked her again and stood.  He went to the other side
of the temporary camp and separated Nander from Rickson.

“Tell me about the Imperial base we saw.”

Nander shrugged. “If you go there, you will be captured.”

“You don’t know me very well.”

Nander shrugged again. “You will be captured. In time, you
will fight for us.”

Kin stared him down.

Nander didn’t flinch. “Earth Fleet fails because you rely on
officers. Every Mazz trooper is trained as a leader. We would not risk defeat
to rescue a single officer. A new leader would be named, and the battle would
continue.”

Kin doubted Nander’s claim. Such a flat chain of command was
doomed, yet evidence suggested otherwise. Commander Westwood had confessed
terrible losses to the Imperial Fleet. Could this be the reason? Could a
trooper trained as a general follow orders?

“We are disciplined. Only the Mazz can stand against the
Slomn.”

Kin smiled. “From what I’ve heard, all you do is run from
them.”

Nander went rigid. “We defended our world during a
one-hundred-year battle. You might call that a war, but it was a single,
ceaseless fight. The Slomn now seek Earth. Your home will burn.”

Kin’s mind reeled at the revelation. He’d expected something
like this from the prisoner. Deception hung around the man like a cloak, but
his fear was genuine. He probably believed the Slomn could cross the immense
distance to Earth. What he didn’t understand was how humans cherished the Sol
system. Mazz Imperials might win pitched battles and space campaigns, but Earth
defenses were more formidable.

Nander studied Kin before continuing. “Your leaders would be
wise to submit to the Mazz Empire. We take slaves, it is true, but the Slomn
possess a truly alien intellect. I don’t know why they seek home worlds and
destroy them, but history does not lie.”

“I think you know,” Kin said.

Nander’s eyes hardened. He didn’t seem accustomed to Earth
Fleet humans arguing. Slaves didn’t get the chance to challenge their masters.
“Don’t be a fool. Your reputation suggests you are smarter than that.”

“Nice try, but I’m not easily distracted.”

“You’re not curious as to how, and why, my people know of
you?”

“I bet you have more in common with the Slomn than you
think. You destroy and conquer worlds. The Slomn conquer and destroy worlds.
It’s six of one and half a dozen of the other.”

Nander’s harsh laugh lacked volume. “But you’re not a
destroyer. That’s why they call you traitor.”

“Pretty much.”

“No Imperial trooper would have hesitated to detonate the
warheads on Hellsbreach.”

“How many races have the Slomn destroyed?” Kin asked.

Nander steadied his breathing much as Tass had before
remembering the details of her raid. The Imperial spoke solemnly, his rancor
forgotten or hidden. He listed hundreds of worlds and the intelligent masters
of each. Toward the end, he named Betaoin.

“That’s a Reaper word,” Kin said.

Nander nodded.

“When did the Slomn attack Hellsbreach?”

The expression in Nander’s eyes revealed arrogant humor.
“Perhaps a thousand of your years.”

“Then they failed. Your fearsome enemy isn’t as deadly as
you think.”

“They didn’t fail. The Reapers rose from the ashes. Do you
see now why we wanted them as battle slaves?”

Kin searched the argument for flaws, trying to recognize
other worlds or star systems in Nander’s eulogy. “You want the Reapers to fight
the Slomn. Why do you want the Ror-Rea?”

“They command the wormholes.”

Kin shook his head. “Many races use the wormholes, including
the Mazz. From what I’ve seen, your people use them better than most. You came
even after Clavender tried to close it.”

Nander’s eyes brightened and Kin saw his mistake.

“She lives.” Nander breathed the words, pushing more air
than sound.

“Not for long.  The Reaper King has her.”

“That cannot be. We must rescue her.”

“So you can enslave her?”

Resentment burned through Nander’s expression. “I will do
anything to help you if you deliver her to us.”

The chance of Kin betraying Clavender to the Mazz didn’t
exist. He stared at Nander before speaking again. “I want to rescue my
captain.”

“Give us Clavender, and Captain Raien will be returned to
you.”

Kin cocked an eyebrow.

The Imperial trooper knew Raien’s name. Perhaps what the man
said about all Imperials being trusted officers could be true, but Nander was
probably just a spy.

“Do you have the authority to make such an agreement?”

“Yes. I swear by my eternal struggle it will be done as I
say. Captain Raien for Clavender. You will be allowed to join us against the
Slomn or flee if you wish. We will even provide a ship.”

Kin glanced at Rickson and the others. “How big?”

“Any size you like. Big enough for all your people.”

“Sounds like a good deal, but I don’t need your help.”

Nander smiled deviously. “Of course you don’t. You are Kin
Roland, the Enemy of Man.”

Kin drew his pistol and held it. “I advise you not to call
me that again.”

Nander stared.

“Have you ever been held captive in a Reaper birthing pit as
flesh was eaten from your body and regenerated?”

Nander narrowed his eyes, held his breath.

“Have you ever floated through space, abandoned in a coffin?
Don’t worry about the Slomn. Worry about what I’ll do if you betray me.”

DAYLIGHT prevented Kin from
approaching the Imperial mountain base. He watched from a distance, unsure if
the fortifications could be breached. He hadn’t seen an Imperial ship land for
days, though patrolling infantry units were hard to avoid.

Fatigue murmured in his ear. He pretended deafness.

The Imperial presence on Crashdown exceeded anything Kin had
witnessed. He spoke quietly to Orlan who lie so motionless he could be asleep
or dead. “I wish we had this kind of firepower when we assaulted Hellsbreach.”

Orlan grunted.

Kin couldn’t locate the red wing icon, not from this
distance, though hundreds of armored war machines straddled hidden bunkers.
From what Nander revealed of Imperial equipment, the units in question were
designated as medium battle tanks. Earth Fleet would call them Colossal Class
and worship them as indestructible.

Regardless, Captain Raien was a prisoner and Kin meant to
liberate her.

“Everything is bigger and better in the Grand Mazz Imperial
Army,” Kin said.

“You’re chatty today. You get laid or something?”

“With your mom. Had to use credit. Sorry.”

Orlan moved his head in the sniper equivalent of a head
shake. “It’s that kind of talk that gets you in fights.”

“Have you found the tank Tass described?” Kin asked.

The big trooper had been in a sour mood. He barely argued or
swore. Perhaps Kin should be concerned, but it was a nice change of atmosphere.
And it made him easy to taunt.

From Kin’s concealed observation post, infiltrating the base
seemed impossible. One person or two people might sneak inside the perimeter
but only with luck bordering on Divine intervention.  He hoped the defenses
were less formidable up close.

Orlan shifted. He glanced at the others, then faced the
Imperial base. “We can’t take Nander. I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That hurts.” Orlan paused. “The best person for this
mission is Billy.”

Kin listened without comment as he tracked the movement of
guards on the wall.

Orlan popped his knuckles. “He may look like a Reaper, but
he’s still just a boy. I don’t know why I even mention him as part of a plan.”
The day moons of Crashdown hung heavy above. “Do you think Raien is worth the
risk?”

Kin didn’t want to face the question. Not because he doubted
Raien’s value, but because the question implied failure. He pushed doubt aside.
Without Raien, he had little chance to unravel the mystery of the wormhole
beacons. Sooner or later, Crashdown would burn. Had the Imperials set the
beacons to repel the Slomn or had the Slomn placed them to open a passage
across space?

Kin felt Orlan staring, waiting for an answer.
What had
he asked?
Kin glanced up, then toward the Imperial base before answering.

“There aren’t many of us left. We’ll get Raien back, with or
without Nander.”

Orlan nodded, but when he spoke it was to reassert his
distrust of the Imperial. “Nander has told us the layout of the base and the
guard schedule. Taking him on this mission is an unnecessary risk. One word
from him, and we’ll be joining Raien instead of saving her.”

Kin considered Rickson, then answered. “Who is going to
watch him while we’re gone? Rickson can’t handle him. Tass is too weak, and if
she could, she’d murder him in his sleep.”

“Now that would break my heart.”

“You’re the one who saved him.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Kin continued. “William won’t be any help. He’s just a boy
like you said.”

“Maybe he’ll change out of the Reaper form. With luck, he
might be useful. He could pose as an officer, give us some time if we’re
caught.”

“What would he know about impersonating a Mazz?” Kin asked.
He shuddered as he remembered the incident with the first Slomn. What had Billy
done to stop the monster?

Kin recalled the impression of a wise man, something from
deep in his own memories most likely. A vague feeling troubled him. He wished
he had seen what happened clearly. Billy was hiding a secret.  

“Can shape changers copy people or creatures they haven’t
met?” Kin asked.

“How would I know?” Orlan hesitated, seeming embarrassed. “I
showed Tabitha pictures of the women I wanted. The looks were the same. Can’t
say they acted the same. Hell, Roland, why are we talking about this?”

Kin laughed, the first surprise laugh he’d enjoyed for a
while. “You brought it up. I don’t think it would be a good idea to rely on
William to impersonate an officer.”

“It’s not your idea, so it’s no good. I see how it is. I’m
the Hero of Man, not you. Maybe we should do things my way for a change.”

Kin argued with Orlan as they studied the Imperial camp.
Guards relieved other guards. Patrols left and returned. Eventually, Kin and
Orlan agreed to take turns watching the enemy. Kin took first watch. When Orlan
came hours later, Kin could barely keep his eyes open. He went back to Rickson
and the others, checked the prisoner, and found a place to sleep.

The sweetest dream of Becca comforted him, though she
whispered in Laura’s voice. Sleep rendered such inconsistencies meaningless.
Becca slipped from the covers of their comfortable bed and donned armor. Kin
watched her go, confident she would return.

That was the best part of the dream.

Just before he awoke, he saw Clavender standing on a sunlit
hill with tendrils of the wormhole embracing her. Reapers squatted around her
without attacking.

He squinted. The Reaper younglings were small and strange.
They tossed an animal back and forth. The cruel game failed to distress Kin. The
soothing opiate of dream sleep ignored his fear. When he saw wings on the
little monsters, he sat straight up.

Clavender’s ethereal voice whispered in his mind. “You’re
the King of the Bleeding Grounds now, Kin. Some things can’t be erased. You
can’t change who you are.”

Orlan paused with a water skin near his mouth, startled by
Kin’s sudden movement.

Kin looked around, then struggled to his feet. “Why aren’t
you watching the Imperials?”

“Rickson took a turn. Relax, Kin. Not a single patrol came
close to us.”

Kin checked his weapons. “Rickson’s not trained for
surveillance.”

“And yet he’s better at it than you,” Orlan said.

“Do you want to get Raien back or are you just pretending to
give a shit?” Kin understood the chance of rescuing her was slim and feared
making a mistake. One wrong step would mean disaster. Laura and the others
needed them. Perhaps Raien was lost. He knew all these things, but it wasn’t in
his nature to give up.

Orlan stretched out and closed his eyes. “The shepherd
identified three guard posts you didn’t see.”

Kin waited for another insult and resisted the urge to
mention that Orlan hadn’t seen the hidden guard posts either. That would be
admitting Orlan was right to give the boy a turn, so Kin kept his mouth shut.

The Bleeding Grounds of the Ror-Rea existed in his
imagination just beyond reach. He felt as though he understood the place,
invisible and intangible as it was. Like the vision of William’s
transformation, his brain was full of impressions colored by emotion and
superstitious fear.

He joined Rickson on the ledge. “Give me an update.”

Rickson remained quiet for another moment. “A large battle
moved near the camp on the far side. It’s gone now, but I think they are going
to send out a contingent of small armored vehicles and infantry as
reinforcements.”

Kin watched Imperial troopers forming columns inside their
perimeter. “You’re right. If we can get close, we might sneak in when they open
their line.”

Rickson shook his head. “We should try when they come back.
Follow them in somehow. Or better yet, try when they break camp. If they win
the battle, they will move their base forward. If they lose, they might have to
retreat.”

Kin considered Rickson’s analysis. “Not bad. Get some sleep.
I think I have an idea.”

“What kind of idea?”

Kin hesitated. “I need to work on the details.”