Starfaring Adventures Page 7

  Silence answered him. Had he blacked out? Fallen to his death? Been swallowed by a massive, scaly creature? Was he currently being digested by the thing's horrid innards? He couldn't feel his legs. He had no idea if they still held him. But if this was how he met his demise, so be it. He would be spared a considerable amount of groin pain as a result.

  Before he knew precisely what was happening, a hook on a long pole had taken hold of his bound wrists and hoisted him up out of the pit. Dangling in midair, he rotated past the surprised-looking Kolarii warrior who held him and faced the equally surprised-looking chieftess. Apparently, neither one of them had ever gone fishing for Human before.

  "You would do this for us?" she said in a hushed voice. "Be our detective?"

  Quasar couldn't be sure his collar's translation software had gotten that last word right, but he nodded anyway. "I give you my word, Chieftess. If what you say about the colonists is true, then they will pay for what they have done." He forced a chuckle, despite the tearing pain in his shoulders as he was suspended by both arms behind his back. "You can toss 'em in your pit for all I care."

  The chieftess raised her arms in exultation, and her warriors' tumult returned as terrifying as before. They ceased abruptly as she dropped her arms and pointed at Quasar.

  "To ensure that you are indeed true to your word, Human, your hairy friend and your sweaty friend will remain here with us. We will send a Kolarii warrior with you as a guide—"

  "I'm sure that won't be necessary," Quasar said.

  "I am sure it is. We cannot allow all three of you to leave on your merry way. What is to keep you from going back on your word and never returning to us?"

  Quasar shrugged. "Fair enough. But I won't need a guide." He could travel back and forth between the human colony and the Kolarii settlement multiple times in the days it would take one of the Kolarii to reach the Zeta 6 colony. "I will be fine on my own."

  Hank and Gruber cast each other a very concerned glance.

  By the time Captain Quasar reached the colony compound, he was nearly shot on sight by the sentinel on duty. Apparently, the colony had been having trouble lately with a so-called wilderness wizard, a self-proclaimed prophet of doom and gloom who had adopted the Kolarii ways, customs, and dress, and who returned every now and then to heckle the human colonists while keeping out of range of their plasma rifles. The governor had no patience for such foolishness.

  "Sorry about that, Captain." The young sentinel sheepishly ushered Quasar inside the compound and locked the formidable gate behind him, rifle slung over his scrawny shoulder. "Can't be too careful."

  "No harm done." Quasar may have presumed that he would arrive on the scene like a heroic Lawrence of Arabia after crossing a sea of sandy dunes, but such had not been the case. Thanks to his sore groin muscles, his bow-legged gait had been nearly as slow as a Kolarii's, and due to his neglecting to bring water for the journey, he'd arrived at the colony parched, hallucinating, and talking back to the voices in his head. "I'm sure I resembled a crazy hermit out there. Not my intention, mind you. But—what's that you say?"

  The sentinel hadn't said anything.

  "Oh yes, best-laid plans indeed! You're absolutely right." Quasar nodded to himself.

  "Uh—wait here, sir. I'll go get you some hydro...and an appropriate uniform."

  "No need!" Quasar tugged off the dusty Kolarii cloak and flung it aside, revealing his sweat-drenched burgundy-and-black Space Command uniform underneath. "That's right. Thank you. I am fit for duty!" He swayed on his feet and caught himself against the solid plasticon wall of the compound. He frowned, shaking his head sharply. "Yes, hydro would be great. On the double, if you don't mind."

  Governor Steele brought the topped-off canteen himself, meeting Quasar inside the gate where the sentinel resumed his post, rifle at the ready.

  "Sweet nectar of the desert," Quasar murmured happily, smacking his lips after downing half the canteen's contents.

  "Might want to take it slow, Captain." Steele was a rigid military man, more of a commandant than a politician. But it took unyielding men and women to colonize an alien moon successfully. "I see you've returned empty-handed. And you've lost your men. Do all of your missions end this badly?"

  Quasar opened his mouth to object, but he couldn't think of a suitable thing to say. So he poured more of the hydro down his throat instead, finishing the canteen and tossing it back at the governor. Steele caught it in one hand.

  "I was told you were the man for the job, Captain. That you had experience with alien races—even going so far as to have one on your crew. A Carpethrian, is it?" His lip curled back with subconscious distaste.

  "Are you sterile?" Quasar asked.

  "I beg your pardon."

  "Your colony—the humans here. Have they been able to reproduce?"

  "You've been out in the suns too long, Captain. Perhaps you have forgotten why you went into that desert in the first place."

  "I was told they might not be your children."

  "Who told you that? Those lizard-people?"

  "Turtles."

  Steele stared hard at Quasar. "How's that?"

  "They move so slow, I think turtle-people might be more accurate. Or their given name: the Kolarii."

  "Don't tell me you've gone native."

  "I only dressed the part. Although that soldier there—" Quasar gestured at the forward-facing sentinel. "—was prepared to shoot me on sight. Your colony is having trouble with a defector, I take it?"

  "Nothing we can't handle. Your assistance was requested regarding a delicate matter—and that matter alone. You were not invited here to criticize how my people conduct their affairs."

  "Understood." Quasar nodded once. "Back to the kids. They're yours?"

  Steele scowled. "Not all of them. My son is among them, yes."

  "And he's human? One hundred percent?"

  "What are you getting at, Captain?"

  "Could he beat me in a footrace on a good day?" Not today, obviously. Quasar would need to ice his groin muscles as soon as he returned to his quarters aboard the Effervescent Magnitude. "Because if what the Kolarii say is true—"

  "Whose side are you on?"

  "I would like to speak with your colony physician." If anyone had a record of the fertility rate, it would have to be the local doctor.

  "Open the gate, soldier," Steele said. "We're done here."

  Without a word, the sentinel moved to obey.

  "I have a few more questions for you, Governor," Quasar said.

  "You'll have to ask Dr. Wolfson. You'll find him out there somewhere." Steele waved vaguely at the desolate moonscape in the distance. "A raving lunatic, last time I checked. He left us over a week ago, and he won't be welcomed back. Neither will you, Captain. I will notify United World Space Command that your mission was a failure, and I doubt you or your fancy ship will ever return to this sector. Assuming the desert doesn't kill you."

  Quasar set his jaw as he retrieved the Kolarii cloak he'd tossed to the ground earlier. "Don't count me out yet, sir."

  Once Captain Quasar was a kilometer away from the compound and its stuffy governor, he activated the comm link in his collar with an awkward head jerk.

  "Captain, is everything all right down there?" Commander Wan, his first officer, sounded concerned. As a rule, she tended toward a more stoic disposition. "Scans indicate you have been on your own for the past twelve hours."

  "I'm fine, Number Wan. Tell me how Hank and Gruber fare with the Kolarii. Still alive, I trust?"

  "They are being treated to a tribal display of some sort. It could be a dance. But they are moving very slowly."

  That sounded about right. "I need you to scan my vicinity for any other humanoid life signs. A prophet of doom and gloom, in particular."

  "Sir?"

  "A hermit living outside the colony."

  "Understood." She paused. "Yes, there is a human life sign outside of the compound—"

  "Not mine, correct?"


  "Not yours, sir. It's moving in your direction."

  "You don't say." Quasar peered into the distance under the shade of his cloak's hood. "Thanks, Commander. I'll be in touch."

  "We will remain in orbit as long as necessary, ready to extract you as soon as you give the word."

  Quasar jerked his head to end the transmission and held up a hand in greeting as the cloaked figure appeared over a suns-baked dusty rise, fifty meters away. Not a Kolarii, judging by the person's fast-paced gait, and not a man suffering from sprained groin muscles.

  "Hello there," Quasar called out. "Would you happen to be—?"

  "You've got a ship in orbit? That's who you were talking to just now, right? People on your ship?" The heavily bearded, suns-burnt old-timer spoke in a rush, gesturing with suns-blistered hands. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just get me the hell off this rock!"

  "Identify yourself." Quasar held up a hand to slow him down. "Please."

  "Of course, you have no idea who I am. How could you? You're not from around here. You have no clue what that bastard Steele's forced me to do." He stopped himself abruptly. "I request asylum under United World Space Command Frontier Article 38, Section 7, Paragraph 24. My name is Dr. Eugene Wolfson. I can't stay here any longer. My life is in jeopardy."

  Quasar nodded to show he was listening. "Dr. Wolfson, it's my understanding that you left Zeta Colony 6—"

  "Are you hearing the words coming out of my face?" Wolfson grabbed Quasar by the cloak in two fistfuls of the sweat-soaked material. "Get me outta here!"

  Quasar easily broke the man's hold on him and shoved him back. The good doctor hit the ground on his backside.

  "As much as I myself would like to leave this moon at the first opportunity, I can't. Two of my men are being held in a Kolarii village, and I have my word to honor with their chieftess. Furthermore, I cannot have my first officer send down a transport pod at the drop of a hat. As you know, the Kolarii are a primitive race, and it would not do to introduce them to alien technology before they are developmentally ready for it. We have to be very careful when we lay in the pod's trajectory so that it is not seen while en route, and we cannot have it touch down on the moon's surface willy-nilly."

  "They took your weapons."

  Quasar blinked. "How's that?"

  "The Kolarii—when they captured you and your men. They took your stun guns."

  "You saw that, did you?" Quasar scratched at his chin.

  "Saw the whole thing from my favorite cave."

  "Well, I'm sure they wouldn't know how to use such advanced nonlethal weaponry. It would take them years probably to master—"

  "Saw them shoot a couple sand serpents and drag the stunned creatures to a Kolarii punishment pit."

  So that's what they called that hole in the ground. Fitting.

  "Sounds like you see quite a lot from this cave of yours. Where is it located?"

  "Half a klick over that rise." Wolfson gestured in the direction from whence he'd come. "The Kolarii village lies in the valley below."

  "That close?" Quasar was astounded. "It took me most of the day to reach the Zeta 6 compound!"

  "Saw you take the long way. And you were walking like a bow-legged cowboy. That probably slowed you down some."

  "Couldn't be helped." Quasar sniffed. "Now listen, if you were the colony physician, then you're just the fellow I'm looking for. And if you know a faster way to reach the Kolarii, then lead on. But I won't be taking you anywhere until I get my questions answered. Do we have an understanding between us?"

  "No." With that, Wolfson turned on his heel and set off in the opposite direction.

  Captain Quasar paused to quickly formulate a plan of action. Then he followed a few meters behind. Dr. Wolfson muttered and gestured to himself as he walked, obviously out of his gourd, and Quasar struggled to keep up. The only thing on his mind right now—besides solving the mystery of the kidnapped children and rescuing his two crewmen from the Kolarii, of course—was a tub of ice to sink his groin into. Unfortunately, his gait had grown more bow-legged than ever, and if he wasn't careful, the doctor would pull too far ahead, out of sight, and he'd be left all alone again.

  He considered calling out to Wolfson to slow down a bit, but the good doctor currently gave no indication he knew he was being followed. Quasar considered it to be in his best interest to remain as inconspicuous as possible for the time being.

  "We're almost there, Captain," Wolfson called back. "Do try to keep up, won't you?"

  "Uh-right." Quasar ducked his chin and did his best to hasten.

  "Got a bad rash or something? Or did you pull a muscle?"

  "A few of them, I believe."

  "Might have a salve for you. Works as a cure-all. Hemorrhoids, hairlessness, you name it." The doctor paused. "Or those might be the side effects, now that I think of it."

  Quasar saw what had to be the doctor's cave in the distance. It was the only rock formation in sight with the only cleft in said rocks to be seen, wide enough for an average-sized man to squeeze himself through.

  "Tell me about Zeta 6's fertility rate."

  "Rather abrupt shift in conversation, don't you think?" Wolfson cast him a quizzical frown.

  "I'm running low on patience at the moment."

  "Understandable, I suppose. Governor Steele lost patience with me and kicked me out of the compound a while back. Said he'd kill me if I ever tried to return. Said he hoped the desert would do the job for him. But I showed him, didn't I? Yes indeed, I did. I survived. You wanna know how?"

  Quasar jerked back from the doctor, suddenly in his face.

  "By drinking my own piss," Wolfson said with a wild-eyed grin. "Hydration, that's the secret. Got a liter saved up in my cave, if you want some."

  "And the fertility rates?" Quasar winced, swallowing the bile that burned his throat.

  "What? Oh. There weren't any."

  "Explain."

  "Something in the atmosphere." Wolfson shrugged. "That's my best guess. Something's interfering with our ability to reproduce here. Killing our gametes—eggs and sperm. Probably in the air, for all I know. But strangely enough, it hasn't affected the Kolarii."

  Quasar held his breath. Not that he planned on starting a family anytime soon, but he liked the idea of having the prospect available to him at some point in the future.

  "So unless they get some new recruits every few decades who don't mind going sterile, this whole colony is gonna wither and die. That's the real problem, see: nobody wants to settle here."

  "Why's that?" Quasar couldn't hold his breath any longer. Stupid idea anyway. The damage had been done, and he would have to live with it.

  "Take a look around, Captain. Would you want to live on this rock?"

  "For the greater good? Of course. Earth needs all the minerals that can be mined from these far-flung moon colonies. All of our technological advancements depend on it."

  "Would you give up command of your vessel to work here?"

  Quasar cleared his throat. "We were discussing the colonists. The folks who had their children kidnapped—which, according to you, is impossible, since they can't even have children. Unless they brought the little tykes with them years ago when they came to settle this moon and somehow kept them from maturing through the use of a secret anti-aging serum."

  "You should write science fiction, Captain." Wolfson looked impressed. "You have quite the imagination. But truth be told, the children that were kidnapped aren't human at all."

  "Ha! So it is true."

  "Well, I did say truth be told."

  "The colonists kidnapped the Kolarii children and somehow made them look human, so the Kolarii stole them back—?"

  "With my help." Wolfson added. "Yep, I betrayed the Governor. Went native. When you came along, I had to warn the Kolarii that the cavalry had arrived. Sorry it got you captured and tossed into a punishment pit."

  "Couldn't be helped. Although I must confess, nothing you've told me has come as a real surpris
e. The Kolarii chieftess already said the children are theirs. I simply needed to corroborate her story with a reliable witness."

  Wolfson beamed. "Never been called that before. Glad to be of service. But did the chieftess happen to mention that the children aren't exactly Kolarii, either?"

  "Uh..." Quasar faltered. "Then what the heck are they?"

  "You'll see." Wolfson turned back toward his cave and beckoned the Captain to follow. "I'll take you to their village. But first I've gotta pack up my things so you can take me with you. Can't let good urine go to waste."

  Quasar winced and nodded.

  Like two desert vagabonds—one partially insane and the other partially crippled due to recent groin muscle overextension—Dr. Wolfson and Captain Quasar descended the valley toward the Kolarii settlement below. Anticipating their arrival, the chieftess scrambled her warriors, and by the time they had surrounded the two visitors with weapons raised, the men had already entered the village. Wolfson cast back his hood, revealing his wiry, disheveled mop of grey hair as he held up his hands. He adamantly suggested that Quasar do the same.

  "They may be slow, Captain, but those spears are as lethal as an Incinerator beam."

  "Chieftess," Quasar called out, his voice echoing with authority. "Your detective has returned."

  "Detective?" Wolfson squinted under the suns. "I thought you commanded a star cruiser."

  "Oh, I do. The Effervescent Magnitude. Ever hear of it?"

  "No. Sounds fancy."

  "It is, I assure you."

  "Can't wait to see it."

  "About that..." Quasar shifted his stance as he waited for the chieftess to make her way through the throng of fierce warriors. "Our roster is full at the moment, if you know what I mean. Besides, I'm sure you'll be needed here, once we iron out everything with Governor Steele."