* * *
Walter Rice was in a panic.
As calm and collected as he was when hypersonic needles began ripping through his vehicle, he was now trembling in fear. If only the missile impact had killed him of just knocking him out, he lamented. Or the needles he took to his leg instead had gone instead into his heart.
But he didn’t fear so much what these aliens would do to him, as what they could torture out of him.
In the entire Angelrath sector, there were perhaps three engineers who knew the inner workings of the Hellbore, and these aliens just got hold of one of them. By luck, his college tuition was mostly paid by his off-campus work with an Angelrath weapons technician. The bane of countless xenophobic races had remained a purely human conception for centuries, with aliens able to make only ineffective copies even when they captured working models. The very principles of the Hellbore’s operation seemed beyond their capabilities. All that they had to realize was . . .
But then, Walter thought, what if these aliens were telepathic . . .
Dum de dum de dum . . .
Pain throbbed in his bandaged leg, and the dull ache in his head made him dizzy, but Walter was still better off than any of the other five soldiers who had been taken along with him. Perhaps that is why the aliens chose him first to be questioned, he ventured. Kaethan was not with them, and Walter assumed that he was dead. He never saw what hit his friend’s Templar first, but the shower of hypersonic needles slicing through his equipment stopped the battlelaser from intercepting the missiles that hit it next.
Two towering Kezdai guards entered their cell and grabbed Walter soon after the prisoners’ second meal. From the holding area, he was taken to a small, bare cargo room and sat down in a chair that was far too large for him. Surprisingly, although the guards were ferocious looking, they actually treated him kindly, even helping him walk down the narrow corridors. The guards were obviously not pleased to do it, but they did. No restraint bound him as he sat, though he had no fantasies of overpowering one of these muscle-bound creatures. Then the guards left him.
He waited there for a long time, growing ever more paranoid that he was being observed. Endless nursery rhymes and children’s tunes ran through his head as he concentrated on the inane and unimportant.
The two aliens that finally entered the room were dressed in dazzling robes and jewels. One wore bright, embroidered crimson, while the other wore dark blue and white. The daggers that were strapped to their belts were far more elaborate than any that he had seen before. The aliens were so well dressed that he couldn’t believe that they’d risk letting his blood soil their noble appearance. They carried many papers and a bag of unknown items. The one in blue and white conducted the interrogation while the other watched intently.
Again it was strange to be treated so kindly, until he realized what was happening. They were treating him like a pet, a stray dog that they wanted to entice into the cage that they had prepared. With no common language, it was impossible to torture any information out of him right away. The questions first had to be understood. Later, once they were sure that the questions were firmly in his mind, then the beatings would commence.
Acting dumb seemed the best defense for now, Walter decided.
But Walter had to play along with the simple stuff. The alien’s language was one of high trills and deep, rolling growls, but at least a couple words were recognizable. Pointing at Walter, the interrogator said “Human,” pointing at himself he said “Kezdai.” It would have been hard to not understand this, and pretending stupidity would have made his later displays of ignorance less convincing. They then introduced themselves as “Keertra” in the crimson robe and “Irriessa” in the blue, and Walter told them his name, though they had difficulty pronouncing the “W.”
Then they began the real questioning, unraveling before him a large star chart of this part of the galaxy. Walter quickly aligned himself, finding Delas immediately. That was a big mistake, however, and Walter cursed himself for doing it. The Kezdai named Keertra had seen his gaze, and immediately knew that he understood what he was looking at.
Irriessa then took a marker and circled Delas, and said “Human.” Then a circle was drawn around another star on the border of the Firecracker Nebula, and he said “Kezdai.” Angelrath was circled next for a human colony, and then another star near the nebula for a Kezdai colony. The marker was then presented to him.
Two things immediately became apparent to Walter. The first was that he’d likely never be released alive with the information just given to him of the Kezdai homeworlds. Secondly, these Kezdai had no idea what they were getting into challenging the Concordiat!
He had to laugh, and he did, though his headache pounded while he did.
Both Kezdai were taken aback by his outburst, Walter saw. But now he had to consider what to do about it. They were asking him to circle another human colony, which he obviously didn’t want to do. But Walter really wanted to make it plain to these aliens the foolishness of their ways.
Taking the marker, Walter started drawing a wide arc across the chart, signifying the immense forward edge of Concordiat space in this sector.
The slap across his face came unexpectedly as Irriessa suddenly released his rage at such impudence. To Walter, it felt like he had been hit in the cheek by a steel girder, and he would have been sent tumbling back over his chair if the chair hadn’t been so large. Kezdai hands were bony, powerful, and huge, and the slap left him testing his jaw to make sure that it was still there, and that it worked. Although painful, it still operated.
When Walter looked back up, dripping blood from his nose, he was startled by the incredible contrast between the expressions of his two interrogators. While the Kezdai in blue could hardly contain his fury, the one in crimson stared at the chart in astonishment. Keertra seemed willing to believe him, Walter thought.
His own astonishment would rival Keertra’s at what happened next.
* * *
Is-kaldai Keertra was stunned by what the Human had done to his star chart. Could Human space truly be so large, he wondered?
Obviously, Irriessa assumed the Human was attempting to bluff them, but Keertra believed otherwise. He had spent his lifetime gauging the emotions of others, attempting to read the subtlest expressions on the lean Kezdai visage. It was a difficult art, but Keertra had grown incredibly adept at it, he thought.
The Human face, though, was so incredibly animated that Keertra couldn’t believe that they could hide any emotion, ever. Walter’s outburst was of true surprise and amusement at what Irriessa was asking of him. The Human eyes bore no trace of hidden intentions, though he had shown careful consideration as he drew the border.
Keertra believed the Human.
And the understanding left no option for the Is-kaldai.
As Irriessa loudly berated the Human, Keertra approached from behind. In one amazingly swift motion, he tore Irriessa’s surias from its straps and sliced it clean through the commander’s widely expanded hood. Blood from countless vessels spewed into the air as Keertra then shoved the Kezdai back into the wall.
Whatever surprise and pain Irriessa could have felt at this attack was overwhelmed by his lifetime of training and experience. Despite his mortal wound, Riffen’s greatest commander would never just give up. Forcing himself back to his feet, Irriessa charged his attacker, willing to take a blade to his chest if he could get his claws to the Is-kaldai’s throat.
But Keertra also had been well trained, and was fully expecting this ill-considered charge. Lost in a flurry of crimson fabric, Irriessa’s grip came up empty. He did, however, find Keertra’s surias buried in his chest as he stumbled.
Riffen’s commander was dead before he hit the floor.
This was a necessary act, Keertra consoled himself, though killing the commander personally had been quite exciting. If the Is-kaldai Council learned that the Humans had so immense an empire, they certainly would not dare attack it. And if that were to not come to pass, then Keertra would not only lose his chance to rule them, but he also would have lost a substantial number of troops needlessly. Something had to be done.
A brief glance at their prisoner showed that the Human had not moved from his seat. Whether frozen with fear, or thrilled by the spectacle, he hadn’t attempted escape or involvement.
Calmly, Keertra advanced to the table and removed the star chart from it. After folding it up, he then walked to a panel on the wall, opened it, and dropped the chart down a chute where air could be heard rushing past.