Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
Cold calls rarely work
Three hours of shuttle flight from the village and the coast, the terrain had shifted from temperate to hostile with no gradual transition.
By the time I landed on a narrow rock shelf jutting from the mountainside, close enough to where my scans detected Runam life forms, a wind roared off the peaks. Why anyone lived up here was beyond me.
I suited up in full mercenary armor, just in case these Runams were more than just unfriendly.
It fit. Mostly. The chest plates clicked into place and the seals engaged and everything functioned as it should, but there was a tightness across the midsection that hadn’t been there before.
I liked to think this was due to cold-weather compression, but it was almost certainly Braija’s cooking.
I adjusted the straps, checked my weapons, and started walking toward the mouth of a cave where the scanner showed life signs.
Many of them, and a path worn smooth by generations of foot traffic told me this place had been inhabited for a long time.
The scanner count climbed: forty signals, fifty, more beyond that.
I entered the cave mouth and almost immediately, the device went dead.
Not off. Dead. One moment functioning, the next the display was blank and stayed blank regardless of the reset I ran immediately.
Something in the rock, or the cold, had killed the signal.
It also shut off the light it had been giving off, leaving me with only the dim illumination from the cave entrance.
I was smacking the side of the scanner when two people appeared on either side of me. They were very fast and very quiet. I hadn’t sensed them, but I should have. Before I’d fully assessed the situation, four more had emerged.
I held up my hands. Attacking them was the opposite of why I was here. “I’m here to talk,” I said. “I mean no harm.”
None of them answered. They were taller than the village Runams by a noticeable amount, and paler, too.
That wasn’t surprising considering the generations without much direct sunlight.
Well-equipped. They had weapons I didn’t recognize, which meant the Durbok visited trade routes I hadn’t known about.
They walked me into the mountain to their central cavern.
Here it was deeply, genuinely warm, with heat and light coming from large crystals set into the rock walls and ceiling. They pulsed with a slow amber glow, steadier than firelight and bright enough to work by. I filed them immediately alongside several other things I hadn’t expected to find here.
The space was large and organized, divided into clear areas for different purposes: medical, storage, communal eating around a long stone table, sleeping areas beyond a natural rock partition.
Many people moved through the cavern and glanced at me with curiosity but no alarm, which meant a stranger being walked in was either not unusual, or they were confident enough not to find it alarming.
Skins adorned the floors and walls. Everyone I could see was healthy and well-fed.
There were children. There were elderly.
The tech scattered through the space was better than I’d have predicted.
Not as advanced as mine, but better than the village’s.
These people had been thriving up here, quietly, for a long time.
A woman sat at the far end of the cavern.
She didn’t stand when I was brought in, which told me she didn’t need to.
Older than Maive and me, her hair was pure white.
She had deep-set eyes and a lined face that told of a life filled with many decisions and their consequences.
She looked at me calmly. I suspected few things surprised this leader.
She reminded me of Maive. Not in appearance, but in her quiet confidence.
“Sit,” she said.
She pointed at a seat across from her. I sat.
“I am Anlara,” she said. “What brings you to our mountain home?”
“I’m Gilrox,” I said, inclining my head. “I live near the ocean. I come on behalf of the Runam village there.”
She raised her brows. “And what do they want?”
Direct. Good. I could work with direct.
I told her everything. The Rivonok Alliance, the junver syrup, the acquisition list, the timeline, the methodology.
She listened, never breaking eye contact with me.
It was a little disconcerting, to be honest. I felt like she had a built-in lie detector device hidden in her eyes.
When I finished, she was quiet for a moment.
“That is unfortunate for the village,” she said. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
“But?” I said.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“I want to send some people to you,” I said. “When the Rivonok arrive. Children, the elderly, anyone who can’t fight. A few weeks, until it’s over.”
Anlara looked at me. “No.”
“I can—”
“No.” Same tone, same finality. “We have had no contact with the village for over five hundred years. Now they need something, and they send an emissary.”
“What happened between your two groups?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Those who left made a promise,” she said. “They would establish themselves in the habitable zone and send supplies back.” A pause. “They didn’t. We never heard from them again.”
“The villagers have no memory of that agreement,” I said.
“We do.”
“They believe your people chose isolation. That you’re hostile to them.”
She waved a hand. “A convenient story.”
“Or perhaps the agreement was made and lost to time. Or there were some who were returning, but met a bad fate. I can’t know, and neither can you. The people who were actually there are long dead.”
Anlara said nothing to that.
“You and your village kin are of the same blood,” I said. “You worked the same mines under the same oppression. The village Runams built lives on the ocean because they had nowhere else to go. So did the Runams in this mountain. That is the same story told in two different directions.”
“It is not our story anymore,” she said. “They made their choices. We made ours. We have managed without them for generations and I see no reason to take on their problems now.”
“They’re children,” I said, hoping to get through. “And elderly people.”
“Who belong to a community that we would not recognize.”
She wasn’t going to budge, and I could see it. I changed tactics.
“The Durbok,” I said. “He supplies you in this mountain?”
A faint shift. “Yes.”
“He’s leaving the system. Permanently.” I kept my voice even. “The Rivonok’s interest in this planet made him uncomfortable, and he has other markets. It may be some time before another merchant finds this location. Decades, possibly. Or longer.” I paused. “I hope your stores are sufficient.”
Anlara looked at me for a moment. Then she smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile, and it told me she held an advantage that the villagers knew nothing about.
“We will be fine,” she said. “We have a vessel, if need be.”
I looked at her, surprised. “You have a ship in here somewhere?”
“A small one,” she added, mildly. “Functional, though. We can manage our own supply lines if we have to.”
Huh. The leverage I’d thought I had evaporated. “I see.”
“I suspect you do.” She stood, which was clearly the signal, because two warriors moved toward me immediately. “I am sorry for what’s coming to the village, Gilrox. Genuinely. But it is not our problem.”
I could see this conversation was over for her, and therefore, for me, too.
I looked down at her as I rose. “You’re right.
This is not your problem, but I can tell you that if the situation was reversed; if the villagers learned that you were facing an adversary you were likely to lose against, they would assist you. ”
Her brow creasing was the only indication that my words affected her. But an instant later, she nodded to the warriors in a signal to take me out of there. They collected me and walked me back through the passage and out into the cold.
The cave mouth was behind me. The wind still burned through my armor. The shuttle was untouched where I’d left it.
Well, it was worth a try, I thought, as I walked back to the shuttle.
But I’d meant what I’d said. There was no doubt in my mind that Maive would have helped these people if they needed it.
It was one of the reasons why I’d fallen for the lot of them.
I’d have to find another way to protect the most vulnerable. I just wished I had more time.