Beyond the Sky: Chapter 26
Triangle Masters
Near the old orchard was a gorge with a stream at the bottom, its edge far enough away that Velli would not be overheard. Weaving through scraggly trees, she reached a rock and sat down, unfolding her communicator and tapping the green button.
“This is Benson,” the voice on the other end said.
“Captain? We think we know who took the bombs. It was Elacmagolintec. The Strider slaver.”
“I’ve seen that name in our survey data.”
Velli glanced around, thinking for a moment she heard something. Then she returned to the alien device. “He’s got a compound outside Trez Yafan. We think the Burrowers are there, too.”
Benson didn’t respond for a moment. “We’re not detecting evidence of nuclear materials there, but that proves little by itself. It could be inside, in a shielded room, and we’ve not run a survey flight there in a while.”
“It’s not just that.” Velli paused again. “I want you to free them. The Burrowers, and all the slaves in his compound.”
She heard Benson exhale. “Velli, it’s—”
“Not as simple as that? Seems pretty simple to me. You said you're here to help us, so…”
“I can’t use my craft for an armed intervention, that is out of the question!”
“You know what we’re going through, what Mespreth and the Slavers do to us! So help!”
“I must focus on your planet as a whole, we can’t intervene on the side of one nation without making others suspicious. After public contact—”
“I don’t care! The slave raids and brandings, you should start stopping them!”
“I don’t like it either, but it’s the best of a bad situation. How good do you think our help will be, if we mess this up?”
Velli paused. “If anyone dies, it’s on you.”
She closed the communicator and put it back in her cheek pouch, joining a fruit and two biscuits, then turned back for camp.
Standing behind her was Naaca.
“What did you—” Velli started.
“Everything,” Naaca answered, and pointed. “Who was that? And that thing? Some sort of tiny radio?”
“I can’t say.”
“The Triangle Masters, then. Everyone knows something happened to you.”
Curse it. She might as well tell her, if only to see how she reacted.
“All right,” Velli said. “But swear not to tell anyone. No words, unless I say.”
She raised her ears.
“They’re called humans, and they’re from another planet.”
Naaca didn’t respond at first, then looked at Velli and started laughing. “No, really, what happened?”
Velli hit her on the shoulder. The grin faded. “You’re serious.” She met Velli’s stone-faced glare. “Another planet? Really? What do they look like?”
“Kind of...tall and thin, with flat ears and thin necks since they haven’t got cheek pouches under their skin.”
“And they come from another planet?”
“I just said—yeah, in a spaceship. That’s where I was.”
“No lies?” She sat down on a rock. “Wow. Was it—was it our radio signals? I saw a guy on TV saying people on other planets could detect them.”
“It wasn’t that, they have a giant telescope of some sort they point at planets to see if they're...habitable, that's the word.”
“And the Triangles?”
“Scout craft. Can’t learn everything watching down from orbit. Was there some reason you were watching me?”
“Commander wants you for a briefing. He’s got the Burrowers to join the attack.”
Warmaster Nellan reviewed the pictures, laminated printouts transmitted from an observation satellite swinging past the Forsaken Lands. Most of the others had been retasked, crews scouring Jepsei with their instruments for any trace of Takji. Outside, the vigil for her entered another evening.
He lifted one image, stared down at it, and frowned. Then he picked up the phone. “Get me the King.”
Two thousand miles away, a vehicle the size of a midget battleship, cruising on a cushion of air, turned south and powered ahead on its twin nuclear reactors.
Flight Captain Julan took a seat in the cramped briefing room, eyes scanning faces. Most of his crew were Yunes—while a superskimmer like Radiant Fulmination never got more than an armspan or two above the sea, it shared enough commonality with airplanes to need Flyers’ skills.
Julan greeted them and began, “It’s the Malgies, gentlemen. The War Room just got intel on a new base here, just north of the Forsaken Lands.” He tapped an island on a map. “Seems they’re claiming the Armistice didn’t require abandonment of offshore territories.”
That got a few chuckles from around the table.
“Do we know what kind of base?” Undercommissar Drevik, a middle-aged Fesk, asked.
“Missiles, perhaps.” This time, the response was groans and curses. “Fortunately, none appear to have arrived yet. We are to take up position offshore, intercept their shipments, and order them to stop.”
Someone asked, “And if they don’t?”
“Then may the Spirits help us all.”
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