Chapter Nineteen
“Breathe it deep! Nothing beats fresh air, huh?”
“If your definition of ‘fresh’ comes from when you’re standing in the middle of a ronka pasture where your horse just dumped you on your ass.” The actor on stage lifted a foot to inspect the bottom of his boot.
“Come back to my house, Dramok. I’ll let you take off your boots…and anything else uncomfortable you’re wearing,” a buxom woman drawled as she sauntered across the scenery. Her appraising eyes raked him. “Matter of fact, you can take off the comfortable stuff too.”
Charity joined in the laughter ringing through the theater. The risqué musical Cow Patties in Paradise was a far better show than she’d expected. Both humans and Kalquorians starred in the farce. In the story, no one of a backwater Haven town was terribly intelligent except the beleaguered Nobek head of local security and his human girlfriend, who ran a popular pleasure club. Rich, clueless tourists had descended upon the town’s hapless residents to play at being cowboys at a newly opened holiday ranch. The results were predictably hilarious. The songs were raunchy but sung shockingly well, and the bawdy jokes had been nonstop. Even Detodev occasionally bellowed unrestrained laughter at the outrageous comedy.
It was definitely not fit for children. Clan Amgar had been smart to keep the kids away. It was, however, right up Charity’s alley. She couldn’t remember the last time her ribs had ached from laughing so hard.
The audience was enjoying the first act so much, they groaned as one before breaking into applause during the intermission preceding the second act. Her hand fanning her warm face, Charity joined her chuckling dates in filing from the auditorium to the lobby for refreshments.
Mitag, who knew the wine vendor, snagged them a premium vintage to enjoy. “This show met the hype, kicked down its door, and surpassed all expectations.”
“Agreed. Hell of a spoof on our poor little Haven.” Charity clicked her glass to his and took a heftier swallow than she should have. Giddy from the fun, she rashly added, “The show is poking fun, but this place isn’t so bad. In fact, it isn’t bad at all.”
Mitag slapped a palm to his chest and staggered as if having a heart attack. “Did you actually compliment our ronka-scented backwater planet?”
“I have to admit it’s grown on me. If there were a place for an astronomer, I’d be tempted to hang around for a while.”
She watched to evaluate their reactions. They didn’t disappoint her. The earlier trace of hope peeked from Detodev’s rugged features. Outright want appeared on Ilid’s and Mitag’s.
“You said the location and view from here deserves an observatory. You should lobby for it,” Ilid ventured.
Charity thought of telling him of the clandestine com she’d made to Kalquor. She forced herself to calm the wild hope she’d birthed. No need to excite anyone’s expectations, including her own. “As soon as the Galactic Council is Dark-free, re-opens Jedver’s university to Earthers, and I get my degree, I might do just that.”
Detodev surprised them by raising his glass. “To our Starry Eyes learning to dodge the cow and ronka patties. We’ll make you a farm girl yet.”
Charity laughed. “Not likely, big man. I’ll stick to my telescopes and odorless sky. And a clean sidewalk from my front door to the observatory. The verdant fields and acres of manure are all yours to frolic on.”
* * * *
They returned for the second act when a theater usher clanged a metal triangle. Charity appreciated the cute announcement of the intermission’s end. It reminded her of how ranch workers had been summoned to dinner in the Old West movies her father had enjoyed. The eager audience resumed their seats, looking forward to the rest of the show.
A few hilarious minutes into the second act, during a raucous musical number featuring the entire cast in various stages of undress, an alarm blared. The house lights came up, startling the actors to a standstill. The theater manager rushed up to address the packed auditorium.
“It’s the fire alarm, folks. We have a small blaze backstage. If you’ll please make your way calmly to the exits—”
A billow of smoke suddenly swept through the space. The curtains behind the set visibly smoldered. Then the fire suppression system went off, soaking everyone and adding to the confusion. All at once, the house lights went out, leaving them in the dim reddish gloom of emergency illumination.
It sent people into a panic. Cries and shouts resounded, blending with the claxons to create an earsplitting cacophony. The audience and actors stampeded from the front of the house toward the exits at the side and back of the auditorium.
Charity had instinctively grabbed Ilid’s hand at the start of the commotion. He curled his arm around her as Detodev stretched to encompass them and Mitag in his long reach. “Crouch low!” the Nobek shouted over the din. “Fire suppression will kill the fire, but the smoke is still a problem. Ilid, can you lead us safely to the nearest exit?”
Charity barely discerned the Dramok peering in the murk, craning his head above the crouching Mitag’s. “The closest exit is bogged by those trying to escape. I suggest we make for the side exit, where fewer are going. You’ll have to lead us, Mitag.” He gestured, but Charity’s weaker human sight couldn’t discern the escape he indicated.
“I can do it. Come on.”
“Hang on to each other,” Detodev rasped. “Even there, it’s a big crowd.”
Ilid maintained his grasp on Charity. She in turn fisted a handful of Detodev’s shirt. She assumed Ilid had hold of Mitag, who was in front of him.
They crept among the row of seats, slowly but steadily, staying as low as they could. Charity could see and sense the continued frantic efforts of others eager to escape. The frightened crowd climbed over seats, many coughing in the thickening smoke. Detodev swatted off those who flailed to get past them. She sensed many falling as they fought the crush, of other terrified patrons stepping on them to get out. She had no idea how bad it was, however, until Detodev abruptly stopped an instant after they cleared the row and joined those in the crammed aisle.
“We have to help him,” came Mitag’s voice, fighting to be heard in the bedlam of shouts and cries.
Help who? Charity wondered.
As Detodev moved to one side, she saw an elderly man lying on the floor before their little group. He was bleeding from his nose, lip, and a cut on his brow. He moaned and feebly tried to rise.
“I have you.” Detodev bent lower to pick up the man, who’d apparently been trampled in the hysteria. Charity released the Nobek to give him better freedom to assist.
Something crashed. Charity was certain it came from the direction of the stage. The thunderous sound in the darkness was dreadful, and the shouts of those battling to be let out became screams. Charity was shoved hard by a wave of those who doubled their efforts to escape the theater. Ilid’s grip was torn from her arm. The next instant, she was forced beyond Detodev and Mitag, who were staggering as they tried to protect the fallen elderly man from the fresh onslaught. Charity had no choice but to run along the tide of the crowd. If she hadn’t, she’d have fallen and been stomped by the heedless mob.
She was brought up short when she collided with those jammed near the exit, trying to squeeze out. The pressure increased as everyone around her fought to flee the auditorium. The air was squeezed from Charity as she was flattened between others. She realized she wouldn’t have to fall to be crushed to death.
As she fought for air and dizziness threatened, a massive figure picked her up and began shoving those in front of her to either side. She clung to her rescuer, thankful for even the smoky atmosphere she heaved in her depleted lungs. She had no capacity to feel bad for those Detodev pushed ungently to clear a path to the door. In a matter of seconds, they emerged in the comparative brightness of the night and Sunrise’s streetlamps. She gulped like a landed fish to claim the cool, clear oxygen between coughs.
She was aware of the sidewalk flowing past as she was carried at a run from the theater. A beefy arm swung at those unlucky enough to find themselves in their path. Pained cries sounded in their wake.
“Ease up, Detodev. We’re out, we’re okay,” she wheezed between coughs as she looked at him. She blinked in surprise to find her rescuer wasn’t the Nobek after all. Nor was he Ilid or Mitag.
“I think you inhaled too much smoke, Miss Nath. We’d better get you to the hospital.” Assistant Chief Wilkes’ smile strived but failed to be comforting.
Charity noted he was carrying her toward an unfamiliar shuttle. “No, I’m…” she coughed and tried again. “I need to see how my friends…” Another fit of coughing, then horror dawned. “Wait. What did you call me?”
His grip tightened, though he carried her as if she weighed nothing. He didn’t answer but continued to push past the frightened and confused escapees of the fire who failed to move out of his path quickly enough.
Details clicked together in her head at a lightning pace. He knew her identity. He was big and muscled, the size of a Kalquorian, perhaps the size of her assailant in the barn. He’d have had access to the spy O’Neal, who’d supposedly committed suicide while in custody.
She tried to wrench free, but Wilkes’ grip was implacable. She drew a breath to scream for help from those swirling behind her, but she was seized by yet another fit of coughing. By the time she stopped hacking, Wilkes had shoved her into the shuttle. The force of his toss knocked her to the floor near a passenger seat. He closed the hatch behind them.
Charity took no time to stop to think. She bounded up and flew at him, kicking, punching, scratching, and screaming.
He fell heavily against the hatch, shocked by the unexpected attack. Charity kept up the barrage, knowing her only chance was to somehow get him clear of the craft’s door so she could escape.
The element of surprise was done, however. She’d done no damage to the behemoth. Wilkes grabbed her by the throat, his features bestial in a snarl.
“Bitch! You’ll pay long before I get you to New Bethlehem. When I’m done with you, you’ll beg to tell the universe about your traitor father and where the Kalqs have hidden our Holy Leader.”
He squeezed. Though Charity couldn’t stop from instinctively grabbing the hand cutting off precious air, she continued kicking, trying for his sensitive spot again. The much bigger Wilkes’ reach was too long, however, giving her no ability to do so.
Through blooming black spots in her vision, she saw him draw back a fist, carefully measuring. She didn’t see it when he punched. She only felt a crash of thunder in her skull, then she fell in an endless abyss.