Part 14 (1/2)

Despite the intentions of the Minith, the buildings that made up Violent's Prison were largely unaffected by the landing of the two mothers.h.i.+ps. Though blackened, the ten-foot-thick stone walls that formed the outer perimeter of the fortress absorbed most of the intense heat and protected the s.p.a.ces within.

Inside the darkened apartment on the southeast corner of the Outer Square, Eli, Adrienne, and Jonah huddled as the two s.h.i.+ps landed. Except for the fear and trepidation each felt, the arrival of the aliens was fairly uneventful for the trio. The roar of the s.h.i.+ps' engines was muted by the thick outer walls and they felt only a slight, but noticeable, increase in room temperature.

”So, what do we do now?”

Jonah's question went unanswered as Eli worked through the problem, sorting out possibilities and scenarios. Another quick look around the southeast corner of the Outer Square showed an agitated, but still alert, guard outside Treel's room.

”We need a distraction,” Eli finally answered. He looked at Adrienne and explained his plan. ”Here's what we need to do.”

Five minutes later, Adrienne-still wearing her blades-rolled around the corner at top speed and headed directly for the guard fifty meters away. As planned, she was crying and waving her arms. Eli and Jonah had retreated to the closest apartment to wait.

”Help me! Please!”

Eli heard Adrienne's voice cut through the empty corridor, and he could imagine the surprise on the guard's face as the nine-year-old suddenly appeared. Except for a handful of key military personnel, the prison was supposed to be empty. Except for the four humans and one Minith in this corner of the structure, Eli doubted there was anyone else in the Outer Square.

Eli could not hear the exchange that must be taking place outside Treel's room. He looked to Jonah, who shook his head and shrugged, apparently unable to hear anything either. Eli shrugged in return, sending the message that all they could do was to wait and hope.

The wait seemed to last forever, but at last they heard Adrienne's voice as she came back around the corner with the guard in tow.

”You have to help them. Please help them,” she cried.

”Of course, la.s.s. Just lead the way. We'll find your friends.”

As planned, Adrienne continued past the room where the two boys were hidden and led the guard down the corridor, away from them and from Treel. Eli had counted on the guard's judgment, empathy, and common sense to move him away from his post. The alien was firmly secured behind a locked door and there was no one in the prison to open that door. Who wouldn't help a child and her two friends who had been mistakenly left behind?

Eli waited sixty seconds, then quickly poked his head out the apartment door. Adrienne and her escort were a hundred meters down the corridor and showed no sign of turning around. He gave Jonah a nod, and then quietly scampered around the corner as fast as his blades would carry him. He did not look back or wait to see if Jonah followed-he just headed straight for Treel's room.

He skidded to a stop outside the recessed doorway and was immediately joined by the twelve-year-old. He looked at the older boy and nodded.

”You ready?”

Jonah seemed nervous. He looked back over his shoulder to the distant corner, then met Eli's gaze. He nodded in return.

”Let's do it.”

Eli grasped the handle of the door and turned. As expected, it turned without protest. The door was only secured from the inside. Treel could not get out, but anyone could get in.

”Hey, ya big booger. Wake up.”

The words clawed their way through the putty surrounding his tired mind and Treel forced one eye open. Sure enough, the little human stood inside the doorway to his cage. He was accompanied by another of the young male humans. The other boy looked familiar, but most humans looked alike, so he could not be certain they had ever met.

”Eli,” he acknowledged through the fuzzy blanket of interrupted slumber. ”What are you doing here?”

Treel knew Eli and his companion should have been removed to a safer location like the rest of the humans who occupied the building. The fact they were standing before him, combined with the fact that the human soldier posted outside would never allow them into his room, alerted Treel that something unusual was happening.

”I said you could trust me, Treel,” Eli explained calmly. ”I'm here to make sure you get to a mothers.h.i.+p.”

There was that word again. Trust. Perhaps it did mean something to humans.

Whatever.

He gave the human child what he hoped would pa.s.s for a smile and pushed himself off the floor. The short rest had done little to erase the fatigue gripping his mind and body, but the Minith soldier recognized an opportunity when it presented itself.

”Where is the guard?”

”He's gone for now, but he could be back at any time,” Grant's son explained. ”We need to go now.”

The fake smile Treel had pasted to his face was immediately replaced by a real one. His ears twitched anxiously.

Trust.

He reveled in the naive lunacy that the human concept fostered in its believers.

The empty carrier made good time as it pa.s.sed over the crowded cities and open farms of the N'mercan sub-farms that surrounded them. Ceeray checked the time and estimated she would shave half an hour from the three hours the trip had taken from the prison with a full load of pa.s.sengers.

This was her first time piloting one of the airborne carriers-though using the term ”piloting” was a bit of a stretch. The vehicles could be operated manually or via automated entries. The choice for the former Minith interpreter had been easy-automated flying. She vocally entered Violent's Prison into the voice recognition system as her destination and instructed the vehicle to proceed at its top speed. From there, the vehicle did the rest. Even with such simple controls, she was thankful that she had paid attention to the pilots on each of her dozen or so previous flights.

Now, an hour after the fact, she felt guilty at having taken the carrier without permission. But that guilt paled in comparison to the thought that she had failed Avery, Eli, and the other children. She knew if she had done her job properly, they would be safely tucked away inside the deep caverns of the mine with the rest of the civilians who had been evacuated. She recalled the large group of children she had helped load and the chaos that had surrounded them as they boarded the carriers. She also remembered being distracted by a need to take in the panorama that surrounded the prison, and by thoughts of Derk. Bottom line, it was her fault the three children had missed their flight, and she was determined to set it right.

Even if it had not been her fault, she could not bear seeing Avery in such distress. That rekindled friends.h.i.+p was the most important thing in her life. The other woman was like a sister, and, since losing Derk six years earlier, had become her first real connection to the rest of humanity. For Ceeray, the years spent on Telgora were a constant battle with depression, loneliness, and-she could now admit to herself-suicide. She was not always pleasant to be around during those years of exile, but had struggled through each day for the sake of t.i.tan and Gee.

Now she was struggling through each day for her own sake, and for the future she could now envision. And that future did not include a scenario where her best friend had to struggle with the loss of her only child.

To no effect, she willed the carrier to go faster.

The three pa.s.sed through the Outer Square without incident. They arrived at the east exit, crossed the open courtyard to the exterior wall, and gazed across the blackened, smoking ruins that surrounded Violent's Prison. An hour earlier, the open fields around the giant set of buildings had been filled with tanks, carriers, and soldiers. Now, only the husks of the destroyed tanks, sitting among the burnt, smoking wreckage of death, were still recognizable.

Treel felt an anxious stir of excitement and pride at what his brothers had accomplished with their landing. There were no human forces left standing between him and the mothers.h.i.+p.

The mothers.h.i.+p.

It stood tall and ma.s.sive, even from this distance. Though not as large as the prison, its s.h.i.+ny silhouette commanded the view from the eastern entrance. It signaled the possibility of freedom for the captured fighter, it signaled the possibility of home and family. Without conscious thought, Treel stepped out of the shadow of the entranceway and onto the baked ground that went as far as he could see. The lure of the s.h.i.+p pulled him.

He was yanked back from the siren's call by the small voice at his side.

”I'm going to miss you, Treel,” Eli said. ”You were a good chess partner.”

Treel pulled his eyes away from the s.h.i.+p and looked at his two companions-the young humans who had released him. What would become of them? He tried, but could not summon the ability to care. The allure of the s.h.i.+p was too strong. The belief that he was within reach of his dream-the dream of returning to his sons and to his mate-dulled all other desires or feelings.

He did not wish any harm upon the young human. Even though he was the offspring of the man responsible for his captivity, Treel wished him no ill will. If he had been capable of such emotions toward a human, he felt he might have even liked Eli in a way. But their respective species were in a battle for Earth now, and that battle dictated their respective alliances. Just as in chess, the game was underway, and they sat upon different sides of the board.

Treel turned back to the s.h.i.+p. He saw no humans anywhere, but heard the sound of distant firing, and the fight was progressing to the south, away from their position and away from the s.h.i.+p.