Chapter 7
One hour and forty minutes after we talked with Crag’tal, I was sitting back in my quarters with my other pistol tucked safely away in its case. I couldn’t believe it was back and that I wasn’t going to be dragged off to jail yet.
Crag’tal had managed to retrieve it and was now talking with Od in the corner, casting glances at Hipop as he hid amongst my pot plants. It seemed my alien pet was wary of the whole thing, and I could sympathize. I had no idea how Crag’tal had managed to get the gun back, none whatsoever. And here’s the thing – they wouldn’t tell me. Neither Od nor Crag’tal felt the need to fill me in on the finer nuances of Crag’tal’s Pistol Saving Mission.
Why?
It wasn’t as if they were deliberately not telling me. They were just ignoring me, chatting over in the corner like they were the best of friends. I felt fed up with the whole situation. I was the chosen one, the destined warrior, and the only person who could save the galaxy. So why was I being given the cold shoulder?
I moped for a while before choosing to stare out my window at the vacuous expanse of space. All that dark and all those tiny stars – the blackness only served to make the twinkle of white and yellow more visible. It was making me feel small. The old adage that we are an insignificant speck compared to the rest the universe was playing in my mind. It had a further edge: if there were more of my kind out there, it would be like finding a speck of dust in the whole universe.
The task was impossible. Even if I couldn’t find more of my race, my destiny would be impossible. Od had repeated to me, the moment I’d gotten my pistol back, that it wasn’t a real weapon for the purpose of our mission. And he had added, with his hands so daintily clasped in front of him, that “We still have to find the lost weapons of your race – it is only with these that we can hope to repel the Twixts.” Now, how was I to find these lost weapons when I had no idea where they could be or what they looked like? How long did I have to complete this impossible task? Not long, if Od’s ominous rumblings to Crag’tal were to be believed.
It was this waiting with no direction or purpose that was getting to me, making me think of the question I should have asked yesterday. Honestly, what was the timeframe here? Would this war happen tomorrow, next month, in a year, by the end of my life? Would I be traveling the galaxy for the next fifty years, tracking down ancient weapons, fighting the occasional Twixt on some bone-dry planet in the middle of nowhere? Or would it take a week before I would have to face off the hordes of In-Betweens in the ultimate fight for the Milky Way?
There was too much to find out – too many gaps in my colander-like knowledge of the situation. I didn’t fancy that Od was going to fill me in any time soon.
One question began to shine through like the first twinkling star at dusk. Who was my mother, and why had she abandoned me to this strange, strange life? I knew that she was the alien half of me. Don’t ask me how, but I knew. The scientists hadn’t been able to figure it out – the peculiarities of human-cross-species DNA left the usual mitochondrial markers unreadable. Ever since I was a child, all those fantasies I’d entertained of my lost parents – it was always my mother who’d played the role of the white-haired, supernova-blue-eyed alien.
Who was she? Where was she now? I had never felt a greater need to know. I needed her now. She would know what to do.
I sighed heavily and flopped onto my bed, Hipop racing over to hide underneath my blanket. I scratched his head lazily.
Why couldn’t my life be normal?
My swirling existential thoughts were eventually interrupted by the uneven footfall of the very small and very tall approaching. I looked up to see Crag’tal towering over the diminutive Od – both of them staring straight at me.
“What?” I asked, half-snarky at Od and half polite to Crag’tal. I may have been in a rotten mood at them for not filling me in on how Crag’tal had managed to retrieve my gun, but I wasn’t about to show lip to one of the most warrior-like races in the Milky Way.
“It is time for us to, as you say, get the hell off this station.” Od’s voice was polite and careful, as always.
I looked down at him, my nose concertinaed in confusion. “Sorry?”
“No more station. We go,” Crag’tal added by way of explanation.
I blinked purposefully and waited for someone to tell me why.
“There is much for us to do, so much for us to complete. There are no more Twixts on this station – and there is no need to wait around for them to come to us.”
I blinked.
“We must find weapons, allies, and information.” Od gestured with his hands expansively as if to underscore how huge this task would be.
Crag’tal crossed his massive arms, the lizard-skin stretching like plastic film tugged between two hands. “None of that here.”
I stopped patting Hipop. I had caught up to what they meant. We were leaving the station for good. It was a strangely painful realization. I wouldn’t call this place home, per se, but it was still the most familiar place to me in all the galaxy. Now I was expected to leave with little chance of returning. I may have been screaming about getting the hell of this station hours before, but that had been in the heat of the moment. I hadn’t had time to appreciate the consequences.
I looked around the room, my room. There were my crazy pot plants. There was my photo of Matron Mirabella. There was my holopin from work sitting on the bedside table.
“We must have haste, I am afraid,” Od said. “Time is either our ally or enemy, depending on if we can keep up with her race.”
“Where are we going?” I held onto Hipop tighter until he squeaked in protest.
“It has been the point of discussion between Crag’tal and myself. It is a hard question – there are many options from which we can choose. It is unfortunate that a situation such as this—”
“Where are we going? Skip to the part where you tell me where.” Forgive me for being impatient, but this was the rest of my life we were talking about here. That, and I didn’t know these two. I was planning on going off with a Crag and Kroplin – both of whom I had just met – to somewhere in the galaxy. It would be the most ridiculous, most adventurous thing I had ever done – apart from fighting a Twixt with a frying pan, that was.
“There are a few races old enough to remember the Wars of the In-Between. I believe it is amongst those planets that we should start our search.”
A needle in a haystack, a speck in a galaxy – these were analogies that fit this strategy. “Being old enough to technically remember an ancient historical event doesn’t mean they have one of my people’s weapons in their cupboard. Isn’t there a better way to do this? Couldn’t we go to your own homeworld? Surely that would be the best place to start? You seem to know plenty about this.”
“Oh no, child.” The smile didn’t shift from Od’s face, but it did look different. “My homeworld was destroyed a long time ago. We are a race of drifters. The records and history we had on your people was lost with our planet. We are now a dispersed race. Though there are those of us who can and will help.” He bowed his head gently.
I was speechless. All this time I hadn’t even known Od was from a dying race. If it hadn’t looked too bizarre, I would have slapped myself right in the head for being such an idiot when it came to galactic history. I could bet the confident and in-control Commander Cole wouldn’t have made that mistake.
“I… I’m sorry—”
“There is nothing to be sorry for. That we still exist and that we may still prevent the destruction of this galaxy, that is all that matters.”
I was humbled into silence.
“There are other races out there as ancient as my own who still remember, and it is with their planets that we must begin. We do not have the luxury of time, either – we are limited to those that we can travel to quickly.”
I nodded.
“Crag,” Crag’tal said, voice so much deeper than Od’s that it was like listening to a bass guitar
after a piccolo. “Close. We remember – good place to start.”
“Crag,” I repeated, trying not to look too shocked. “Your own homeworld?”
Crag’tal nodded. “Old ruins on one moon. Not many Crags go there. Only few Crags care – only few remember.”
I was sucking at the inside of my lip. They wanted to take me to the Crag homeworld? Crag’tal was one thing, but ordinarily Crags lived up to their reputation of being the premier warrior race of the galaxy. I’d seen Crags start and comprehensively finish fights over little more than someone glancing their way. They had a deserved reputation for being aggressive, rash, and not the kind of people you invited to tea with your elderly grandmother.
Or maybe that was a stereotype; Crag’tal didn’t fit any of those categories. He’d helped me twice now and was fast making friends with Od, someone whom he may previously have considered a light snack.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “So we go to this moon—”
“Crag’e’thal,” Crag’tal corrected.
I decided against trying to repeat the name – I wouldn’t be able to get the guttural rumbles right and would sound like I was clearing my throat after inhaling a hand-full of flour. “Yes, we go there. Then what?”
“There are ruins, Crag’tal assures me.” Od was looking up and out of my window at the space beyond. “And it is amongst the ancient that we should search for the clues of the past.”
There he was, being dramatic and flowery again – but I didn’t mind so much now. “What kind of clues? I mean, are we looking for people – I mean Crags – who might know something? Or are we looking for ancient symbols carved on walls or… I don’t know.”
“Both of these things. But much more important to us are artifacts.”
“Artifacts?” I repeated.
“Objects of ancient origin that may or may not hold—”
“I know what an artifact is. How are they going to help? Are we going to go all the way to Crag just to poke around in the dust on some moon for a shard of pottery or a rusted-over spearhead?”
“No, such things would be of no use to us. We will concentrate on discovering artifacts of your people. While a shard of pottery may be of some interest to an archaeologist—”
“Hold on,” I interrupted, more than happy to cut Od off mid-ramble, “What are my people even called?” It had struck me that this entire time we’d been referring to my alien race and hadn’t once mentioned their name.
Od stared at the floor for a minute. “They do not have a name.”
That was a terrible answer. Every race had a name. You can’t say you are from “?” When you meet up with all the other aliens at the bar – you’ll never be able to invite them home for dinner. “How can they not have a name?”
“Ko – this is what my race called them. It roughly translates as The People,” Od said.
“Oldest,” Crag’tal added, “Crag call them Oldest.”
Oldest and The People? I’d stick with The People. Oldest would remind me too much of the fact I was supposed to be the only one left.
“Okay, The People. So… so when do we leave?”
“In an hour. Crag’tal has kindly found us transport on a Crag freighter. Though the accommodation may not be ideal, it is traveling a direct route.”
“You’re coming too?” I turned to Crag’tal, trying to keep the desperation from my face. I didn’t want to take a Crag freighter to the Crag homeworld without a Crag with us to prevent general Crag-induced bloodshed.
Crag’tal nodded, his big arms still crossed, looking about as menacing as skin and muscle wrapped around bone ever could. “Crag’tal see this through until end. Either Twixt end, galaxy end, or our end.”
I felt comforted, kind of. Adding the bit about seeing it through until we died was unnecessary. I couldn’t deny that my heart lifted at the prospect of Crag’tal joining our ranks. There was no other being I would have preferred looking out for me than the big guy. Well, now that the Commander had declared me public enemy number one, anyway.
I packed the items I couldn’t take with me away in station storage, tried to find someone to take good care of my plants (which the station’s botanist was more than happy to do considering their rarity), and said goodbye to the view from my window. Od told me to pack light – the galaxy was never kind to those with lots of luggage, he’d said cryptically. I agreed with him. But there was one thing I insisted on bringing. I couldn’t leave Hipop alone on this station, nor could I face the prospect of giving him away.
To my surprise, neither Od nor Crag’tal objected.
Od nodded and said, “Splendid idea; it is a marvelous creature.”
Plus, he could be useful, I thought to myself as I clipped his collar in place. He had a nose for danger and was capable of picking up noises way below the usual range. That, and he was super cuddly, and I had a feeling I was going to be short on cuddles on the Crag freighter.
Leaving the station was hard, but it became a whole lot easier when I spied a certain Commander halfway along the promenade. I’d told Crag’tal and Od that I wanted one more walk around on my own – to say goodbye to everything. I was walking along, saying a wistful goodbye to my favorite seat, my favorite store, even my favorite place to watch aliens walk on by. Then I looked up to see the Commander marching my way.
I looked around quickly, like a frightened rabbit with my ears primed to pick up the growl of the wolf, searching for an escape route.
He was too quick. I regretted in an instant leaving Crag’tal behind – I had a feeling he was becoming my de facto bodyguard, there to make sure I saved my strength for the Twixts. By the looks of it, I needed a bodyguard right about now.
The Commander wasn’t smiling. He had the expression most people had before they might squash a fly. “Mini,” my name was like a blast from a pulse cannon, “I was wondering if you could help me with my inquiries.”
I was so startled I couldn’t make a sound.
That didn’t bother him; he obviously wasn’t intending this to be a two-way conversation. “I need to see those guns of yours – the ones you claim you are keeping for someone else. I want to see your license, too.”
You could have shot me then and there – that would have made things damn easier for me. Death I could take – the Commander on the warpath was torturous.
I tried to move my mouth, but it was like someone had poured hot tar in it – my lips opened, but the only noise that came out was this unpleasant gulping.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes.” My voice had ten times the pitch of Od, and that was saying something.
“Where are they?” The Commander’s eyes were blazing like the center of the hottest, most ferocious star. I could feel my skin flush and prickle with dramatic heat as he bore down on me.
“I… I don’t have them with me right now,” I said. Which was kind of obvious, as I was standing in a standard set of pants and top without a pair of massive rifles strapped to my back.
“Take me to them.” A strange thing was happening with the Commander as he spoke. Though I could feel the anger lapping off him like a wild storm at the levy, it didn’t feel completely genuine. Or perhaps it wasn’t all directed at me. Sure, he may be shouting at me, but I got the impression I wasn’t the only person he wanted to be quarreling with right now.
“I….” I took as big a breath as I could manage. “Is this an official inquiry?” I couldn’t believe I’d actually said that to the Commander of all people. I’d stood up for myself. Perhaps fighting off the most deadly creature in all the galaxy was a confidence boost for a girl.
Now I could tell he was angry only at me. He ticked his head to the side quickly. “No,” he said, “This is not an official inquiry.”
I needed sun goggles for the look he was giving me – and a three-meter blast wall. I soldiered on. “I’m not under arrest, am I?”
Another quick tick of his head. “No, you are not under arrest. It would be…” the Commander paused
for a long moment, “Good if you could help me with my inquiries.”
It would be good? For him maybe. It would see me in prison faster than you can say “Yes it was I who shut down your security system and boarded your ship.”
I took another steadying breath. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time. I’m leaving today.”
“When you return—”
“I’m not coming back.”
I fancied I saw a flicker of something other than rage in the Commander’s eyes. But whether it was disappointment at the fact I wouldn’t be able to help him with his inquiries or something else, I couldn’t tell.
“Where are you going?” Was his voice softer, or was he ramping it down so he could ramp it back up again later?
“I don’t know.”
“You’re a floater without any family – you’re not running off to join the circus, are you?”
Was that a joke? I chose not to laugh, just in case.
Something was happening with the Commander – and I could see it play out on his face like a hologame on screen. He was confused, frustrated, and didn’t know who to blame for his problems.
“Strange times,” he said quietly to himself, “But look.” He looked straight at me, and I felt something right in the pit of my stomach that made me want to smile and hide all at the same time. “If you’re in trouble, you don’t have to run.”
I put a reflexive hand up to my mouth, two fingers touching my lips. “Trouble?”
He’d said trouble like he didn’t want to throw me in prison. He’d said it like he wanted to help.
“Look,” he crossed his arms and sighed, the rest of his anger sinking back into the deep grooves in his brow where it usually resided, “Girls – sorry, women – don’t get attacked by Kroplins and buy some of the galaxy’s most sophisticated and expensive guns every other day. Don’t get me wrong – but I don’t think you can afford Tech Industry fire-power on your waitress salary.” He paused to shift his eyes to the side, obviously thinking. “I’ve read your file. You’re a floater – no family, no one to check if you go missing. You hold down an ordinary job, and you look about as innocent as they come—”
I couldn’t believe that he wasn’t livid with me anymore, that he actually appeared to care. I wanted to throw my arms around him and never let go.
“Mini,” he locked his eyes on me again, and each time he did, my stomach bucked harder than a cruiser braking at light speed, “You’re the prime target for gunrunners.”
… What? Had he said gunrunners? “I—”
“Look, you don’t have to say anything; I know how these types work. If you need help,” there was that look again, “All you have to do is ask.”
Silence was settling between us, and it was the most laden, pregnant quiet I’d ever heard. He was waiting for me to ask. Me, I was trying to hold back from asking. He sure as hell was going to change his tune if I told him that it wasn’t gunrunners, but Twixts.
“Mini—”
Someone loomed behind me, casting a dark shadow across Jason’s face. A hand reached down and rested heavily on my shoulder. I startled, a quiet yelp escaping my lips.
“Human bothering you?” Crag’tal asked me.
It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the Commander. By that time, the damage had been done. I glanced over to see the Commander’s eyes narrowed as he stared up at Crag’tal. I tried to see it from Jason’s point of view, and it didn’t look good. He suspected I was the victim of gunrunners, and a whopping great Crag, known for their lack of interest in keeping the peace, walks up and cuts our conversation short. To the Commander, that would look like Crag’tal was trying to stop me from spilling the beans.
The Commander straightened up, and to his credit, looked at Crag’tal like he could take him.
“No,” I said too loudly. “No, Crag’tal, everything is fine.”
“Mini.” The Commander looked deeply into my eyes, obviously pleading with me to say the magic words of “Help, I’m being abducted by gunrunners!”
I couldn’t. “I’m sorry, Commander, but I have to go.” I didn’t look into his eyes, just turned quickly.
I walked away with Crag’tal without once turning back.