A World for the Taking Ch. 07

"Come on, Gamble," croaked Roy, pulling on the big stud's lead strap. His throat was parched, but he wanted to get a little more distance between him and his pursuers. "I hurt too. Need to keep moving. Sorry, boy."

Gamble only moaned disconsolately as he allowed the teen to lead him between another set of boulders. The blackened streak on the steelie's flank no longer oozed blood, which was fortunate. Roy's med-kit was low on coagulant. He had used most of it to stanch Gamble's wound first, only afterward realizing how seriously he himself had been wounded during his ambush the previous day.

A ragged, charred hole through his jacket and another along the thigh of his trousers showed scorched flesh beneath. Roy's thigh sent a constant burning up his side and the wound above his belt was an unending ache he had been able to do very little about. The worst part was that he did not know how many Dusig had been killed in the ambush. He was fairly sure one was dead and all but certain he had wounded two. The patrol he'd hit had not been as careless as the one he and Tammy had destroyed. They had immediately spread out and returned fire. Roy had bolted away after only a handful of shots. That was when they had almost gotten him.

After several hours of evasion Roy was now on course to investigate the scene where the big Town Works lifter had gone down. He knew Tammy and the others had engaged it and knew the ship had been forced to land, but with the Dusig soldiers almost in his trap he had not looked to see what took place.

"A little further, boy," Roy encouraged Gamble. "A little further and we can rest a bit. I want to see where the flyer is. You can take it easy for a while."

Gamble nickered and nudged Roy with his muzzle. Roy smiled at the old, familiar gesture. Gamble had done that ever since he was a colt.

They came out onto a spur of a hill among some low pines. The elevation allowed Roy to see up and down the river a long way. About a kilometer to the south and east was a wide swathe that had been burned five years before. He would need to skirt that when he got back to tracking the others. No sense in exposing himself.

"You wait here, Gamble," he said, dropping the lead strap at the stud's feet. "Rest a bit. I need to get a better look."

With his binoculars in hand Roy moved quietly along the hill spur to a large boulder overhung by a leaning scrub cedar and a cluster of old juniper bushes. Their crazily tangled branches provided good cover to see the riverbank from. He turned his binoculars north first in hopes of spotting the patrol he had ambushed. Seeing no sign he turned his attention southward. He scanned for a bit until he sighted the lifter. That he had expected. What he had not expected was Mary Horne's dark blue flyer with its Tyne & Harper logo sitting in the shallows near the lifter. He did not recall hearing it fly by, but he had been fairly focused on evasion for the last few hours. Of course, it could also have come in from high altitude. It did not really matter. The flyer was there and so were the Dusig. Zooming in he saw three enemy soldiers milling about and a fourth figure he did not at first recognize.

"Vemmo Att Prei?" he whispered, astonished to see the diminutive male Vespan, the father of Tammy's friend Te`ja Vemoar. "What in the hell are you doing with those guys?"

Roy soon realized the Vespan was not there willingly. One of the Dusig held a rifle and stood back several paces as it watched Vemmo working on the lifter.

The ship had been shot to shit. Numerous bullet holes stitched the fuselage and here and there fist sized chunks were actually missing from the smooth duroplast* hull. The main drive exhaust had been detached and was now sitting on the rocky beach while Vemmo leaned through one of the service hatches.

"Alright," grumbled Roy. "What do I do now?"

Briefly he considered killing the Dusig. They were within range and if he were lucky and skillful he could take them down. The problem was he might not be lucky or skillful enough. It was a very long shot even for a Johnson Big Bore. And even if he did kill all three of them, there might be a fourth or a fifth he could not see.

"And what if those fuckers from last night are closer than I think?" he sighed, looking over his shoulder the way he had come. "And where is Tammy?"

For a moment Roy's heart ached. He had not wanted to part from his girl, but at the time he had felt it the best way to protect her and the others. Maybe it had been. Certainly he had delayed the patrol and set them off on his track. That had to count for something. But now Tammy was who knew where.

"On the other side of that hill, hopefully," he said aloud, looking at the large, buttressing hill that rolled down from high up the valley's wall. "The tower's on the other side of that. They'd have to cross it. And I think there is a creek over there that leads down near Big Lake. That'd be the way I'd go. For a while, anyway."

Roy shook his head to clear his thoughts. Musings like that were clouding his mind. He was too tired and worn to think properly. His side and thigh ached and all he wanted to do was sleep and maybe get a shower and a hot meal. His stomach rumbled at the thought of food and he took a ration bar from his pocket.

"When this over with, I'm never going to eat another one of these," he croaked as he chewed. A mouthful of water from his canteen made the food bar go down easier, but he was running short. He needed to find a stream or pool. Gamble would need water soon, too. Steelies could get most of what they needed from foliage and grass, but not if they were moving as hard as Gamble had been. The stud could go longer without water than Roy, but not much longer.

Again, Roy shook his head to clear his thoughts. He put his binoculars back to his eyes and looked to see if anything had changed down at the river. It had. Vemmo Att Prei was standing with his arms spread and shaking his head vehemently, as if trying to explain something to the Dusig who surrounded him. The petite Vespan was smudged with grease or soot and in his hand he held a long socket wrench. One of the Dusig raised his rifle, aiming it at Vemmo's chest, but another stepped in quickly and shoved the weapon down.

Roy watched as things played out. The Dusig who had shoved the rifle put a hand to the side of his head and seemed to be speaking to no one. The other two watched Vemmo. An inspiration hit Roy and he scrambled to get his data pad out. There was a small chance he could intercept the transmission. With a quick flick of his finger he set the pad to scanning frequencies. Up and down the range it went without result. Disappointed, Roy returned his attention to the scene on the riverbank below.

The Dusig who had been talking turned to the others and apparently gave them some orders. The three aliens strode out into the water, making for the small flyer in the shallows. When Vemmo made to follow, the leader spun and kicked the Vespan in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Vemmo lay their gasping and watched the Dusig fly off to the south east.

Roy was again tempted to try a shot, but the range was still long and he was unwilling to chance giving his position away to the patrol he knew was behind him. He turned his binoculars back on the beach. Vemmo stood forlornly with his hands at his sides, staring after the distant flyer.

"They just left him?" he wondered. "Maybe they expect him to repair the lifter while they're gone."

Roy stood and felt his head spin. He dropped back where he had been and rolled to his back, his side afire with pain.

"Fuck this shit," he moaned without enthusiasm or heat.

Placing his med-kit on his stomach he administered a pain killer and a mild stimulant. A second or two later he felt much better and far more alert. It was a good feeling, but it was something he knew he needed to be careful of.

"Don't want to end up like Kandi Newfield," he chuckled, his mood vastly improved. "That girl caused herself all kinds of problems."

Kandi Newfield had become functionally addicted to stims and ended up nearly losing her claim. Only because her parents had stepped in and paid for her to be incarcerated in the medical center for three months did she retain it. Had she been old enough to take responsibility for her shares of the harvest she would have been booted off the planet and sent back to the CP to fend for herself. Roy did not want that to happen to him, though, he doubted using a stim in the current situation would cause such difficulties. He was not likely to become addicted after only a single dose.

With his pain dulled and his mind clear the tall, red haired teen could think again. He rolled onto his belly and checked on Vemmo. The Vespan was still standing disconsolately on the beach, now looking at the open compartment of the lifter. Roy knew Vemmo and his family were not yet qualified to be in the wilderness alone. Probably the Vespan could survive a few days. Children who had gotten lost had survived a few days, after all. Roy could leave him and come back after the message was sent. But what if the Dusig decided to come back and kill Vemmo?

"Can't leave him," he told himself. "Poor bastard. And he wouldn't leave me."

Roy had spent some time in the company of the Vespan family. They had been to several cookouts at the Mackey homestead and of course had attended the Mid-Winter Festivals. He liked them. They were strange, but he liked them anyway. Admittedly, that was partly because Tammy liked Te`ja, but that was irrelevant.

"Going down to the river might set the patrol on the wrong course, too," he mused, looking northward again.

Roy rose with more purpose and this time his head did not spin and his side did not ache so much. He went back to Gamble who chuffed a greeting and nuzzled him. The teen took up the end of the lead strap and began finding a path down.

*****

"Mr. Vemmo?" Roy called a couple of hours later as he approached the lifter on the river bank. "It's Roy Dodge. Don't be afraid."

"Roy?" Vemmo cried in surprise, seeing the teen coming along the stony shore. "Where did you come from?"

The small Vespan sprang lithely from the cargo compartment of the lifter and rushed to meet the young Human and his steelie. His eyes instantly focused on the rents in Roy's jack and trousers.

"You are injured!" Vemmo exclaimed and pulled the jacket aside to take a look at Roy's wounds. "You must sit down and let me tend to this."

"Are there any more Dusig around?" Roy asked, pushing the Vespan back to arm's length firmly.

"No," Vemmo said. "They flew off and left me. Come over here, Roy. I will get you patched up. How did this happen?"

"We got shot," said Roy, allowing himself to be led to the lifter's cargo compartment. He let go of the lead strap and sat in the open door, sighing with some little relief.

"Your steelie is getting away!" Vemmo said in alarm, snatching at the lead strap and missing when Gamble tossed his head.

"It's alright. He's thirsty," Roy assured him, smiling as his stud went knee deep into the river and began to drink. Roy got out his canteen and swallowed the last of the water in it. "Why did they bring you here, Mr. Vemmo?"

"They wanted me to fix this thing," the petite Vespan said, gesturing derisively at the damaged Town Works flyer. "Someone shot it to pieces. You should see the inside of the engine compartment. I am surprised it did not crash and burn."

"Can it be fixed?" Roy asked. If they could get the flyer going, they could intercept Tammy and the others and make a run for the tower.

Vemmo helped Roy off with his jacket and took a closer look at the wound on his side.

"I do not have the parts, Roy, and they did not understand what I was telling them," he said, peering intently at the scorched flesh. "This looks bad. All the skin is gone. I can see fat and muscle. Looks like someone gouged it out with a teaspoon. Good thing you sprayed it with coagulant. It is starting to seep, though. Why did you not put a bandage on?"

"Dusig were after me," Roy told him, wincing as Vemmo prodded the injury. "Didn't have time."

"After you? Why?" Vemmo asked. He stepped up into the cargo compartment and returned a second later with a large medical kit. "What have you been doing out here?"

While Vemmo cleaned the wound Roy told him about the last few days and the mission to get the tower operational.

"Another like Tammy? I see. Will it work?" Vemmo asked, sealing a bandage over Roy's wounded side. "Drop your pants. I need to get your leg fixed up.

Roy gave him a warry look.

"Roy, now is not the time for Human modesty," snorted the Vespan. "Drop your damned pants. Just try to forget what I look like long enough for me to get you tended to."

Roy reluctantly dropped his trousers, focused on the trees and tried to think of baseball. Coming in at around one hundred sixty centimeters tall and no more than fifty kilos with a narrow waist, small breasts and shapely hips, Vemmo would have made a very attractive nurse had Roy not known he was a male Vespan.

"Not as bad as your side, though you did not attend this as well," Vemmo pronounced after running the scanner over the injury. "Skin is gone and I can see fatty tissue, but it did not get down into the muscle. What did they shoot you with? One of those rifles?"

"Yeah," Roy grunted as Vemmo applied a cleanser. "Got Gamble pretty good with the same shot. A little more to the left and they would have brought him down. We dodged just as they fired, though. Gamble got us into a wash and we lost them because they were being careful. Maybe they saw what me and Tammy did to the other patrol."

"Hold still." Vemmo pulled the thin layer of coagulant off the wound and blood poured out for an instant before he washed it away and applied a fresh coating. "Give that a minute to set and we will get a bandage on your leg. You did not answer my question about the tower."

"What question?"

Vemmo looked to see if Roy's pupils were abnormally dilated and realized the young man was simply worn out.

"Will installing the alien transceiver work?" Vemmo asked.

"I don't know," Roy admitted tiredly. "Yoshi thinks it will. When you see him, he's going to want to know about his parents."

"I can only tell him, when last I saw them, they were well," Vemmo said and got a bandage from the medical kit.

"So why are you here and what's been happening in town?" Roy asked, looking at his wound. He grimaced at the charred flesh, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it felt.

"The day they landed, everyone in town was rounded up," Vemmo explained. "Put us in the hall, they did. Gave us food and left some guards to watch us. After a while one came in that seemed to be an officer or something. He spoke Mandarin. A few words, anyway. Enough for me to understand. He told us he wanted the leaders. Mary Horne and Sheriff Brodie went without a fuss and I was taken because I understood him. We were kept in the sheriff's office. And then someone blew the hell out of their shuttles or whatever those ships were."

"I think that was Mr. Mackey," said Roy.

"Probably," Vemmo nodded. "From what you have told me I would have to guess he was trying to get everyone out of there. The shuttles were wrecked and the Dusig were running around in a panic. We saw it from the window. I thought they were going to kill us."

"Did Mr. Mackey get anyone out?" asked Roy.

"As far as I know everyone but the three of us in the sheriff's office escaped," Vemmo said and began wrapping the bandage around Roy's thigh. "I do not think he knew we were there. I do not know if he could have gotten us out if he had known. I am just glad he rescued the others. My family is safe, at least. That makes me feel better."

"Why did they think you could fix the lifter?" asked Roy.

"Well, I work for the Town Works Department," Vemmo explained. "I know how to fix these things. I mean, I was not brought here as a mechanic, but that is where I started with Tyne & Harper. Before I was mated. A long time ago. How does that feel?"

"Better," Roy said, flexing his knee and testing the bandage before pulling his trousers up. "I need to see about Gamble and then we need to get going. Have to catch up with Tammy and the others."

"The jZav`Etch pilot, Roy," Vemmo said cautioningly. "The Dusig are after her. Something about her knowing where they are. I do not know why. I only know they questioned us. They are afraid of her."

"That makes sense," Roy said, buckling his belt. "At least it makes some sense. They chased her here for a reason. Come on. Need to patch up Gamble."

"You should, perhaps change your pants if you have another pair," said Vemmo.

They got Gamble back on dry ground and Roy dug out a pair of jeans he had intended for the wash. Now though, they were in better shape than the pair he was wearing. While he changed into them Vemmo examined Gamble's flank.

"It is not too bad, I think," Vemmo pronounced. "Long but not as deep as yours."

Gamble bit at Vemmo when he touched the wound, but Roy slapped the stud on the snout and attended to the injury himself. A thick layer of synthetic skin would have to do in place of a bandage, but the wound was covered and Gamble seemed more at ease.

There was no food in the lifter and no weapons. Roy took the large med-kit, just in case. He made sure all his canteens were filled and waited until Gamble was done drinking before he mounted. With Vemmo riding behind him on the cantle they headed east in hopes of finding Tammy's trail.

*****

"Would it not be faster to cross through this open land?" Vemmo asked.

They had climbed for hours, more or less following the Dusig who had survived the crash of the lifter. When that trail diverted from where Roy thought Tammy would have gone he set out away from their track. It was now nearly evening, the suns were sinking low and he was pleased to discover he knew Tammy well enough to predict her movements. The prints of the four steelies had led southward and up through the more heavily wooded area of the hills. It would certainly provide better cover than lower down. What he did not like was where they now led. He and Vemmo stood under cover of the trees within sight of the burned area with its blackened trunks standing like grim sentinels among the living saplings and tall grasses.

"Faster but dumber," said Roy, disappointed in his girlfriend's judgement. He took out his binoculars and examined the area ahead. The others' tracks led straight to the open ground and he wondered that Tammy had not been more cautious. Even now the sound of Mary Horne's appropriated flyer came faintly to him from somewhere high to west. "Damn. There are a bunch of little craters out there. Grass was trampled and some of the trees were knocked down."

"What does that mean?" Vemmo asked.

"Tammy made a mistake and F`reet Do Hum didn't keep her from making it." Roy handed the binoculars to Vemmo and let him have a look. "I think that is where they were when they shot up the flyer. See all the churned up soil?"

"Is that a path through the trees at the upper edge of the clearing?" the Vespan asked.

"Yeah," said Roy, nodding. "A game trail, probably. Easier to follow one of those than to break new trail. Even if they don't go exactly where you want, it makes travel faster."

"Our friends would have gone that way, yes?" Vemmo handed the binoculars back to Roy.

"Pretty sure they did," said Roy with a nod. "If the bad guys weren't around, I would too."

"But it is not safe now?" Vemmo asked.

"No."

"Roy, I am sore. My legs hurt," the Vespan said and squatted to stretch his muscles.

"We need to go a little further, Mr. Vemmo," Roy told him tiredly. He reflected that that had become his mantra over the last few days. Just a little further. A little further and we can rest. A little further and we'll be there. A little further and we can eat. Just a little further. Roy made a decision and sighed. "Let's stay on foot a while. We can cut through the trees easier that way and skirt the clearing. See if there is some place over there we can hole up so me and Gamble can sleep."