Torian Reclamation 2: Flash Move (5 page)

Jumper, Alan, and Hol4 were then led out from among the huts over the open ground towards the closest agritent.

“I think this is dog,” Alan said as he chewed some of the meat.

Jumper took a bite. “Yeah. Not bad.”

The agritent compound reached beyond the north and northeast horizons. To the immediate left grew a thicket of woods. Small residential tents were erected between the trees and the huge greenhouses, wherever there was room for them. Those had to be where the workers slept. Living conditions did not look enjoyable at all. Jumper could see why Hol4 chose to escape.

The greenhouses themselves were impressive. Three stories high, wide and deep, clear moriglass tops with fine green screen sidewalls. Inside, many natives could be seen working. The closest one housed tri-pyrus trees, as far as Jumper could see into it, which bore three different varietals depending on the season. Jumper’s dad called them all pears, but the locals had different names for each fruit. This type of tree was highly productive and always had something ripening. The workers in the tents moved ladders and portable staircases about harvesting, pruning, fertilizing, and performing irrigation line maintenance. Tending tri-pyrus trees was a never-ending job, as the optimal harvest time for each piece of fruit was a window of only a few days.

The guards shoved Hol4 inside the doorway of first tent, where an Amulite wearing a thin black neck collar ran over to greet him.

“That must be a scientist,” Jumper said to Alan. The scientist bent down and inspected Hol4’s anklet, nodded and directed him towards the middle row of trees.

“Hol4!” Jumper shouted while pressing his hands and face against the screen. “We’ll be back for you! I’ll get you that space station job, and we’ll come back and rescue you from this place!”

Jumper was shoved again, from the side now, but not by a native. This time it was Alan. He had a look of extreme distress on his face. The guards then grabbed ahold of them both and pushed them inside the same tent.

“Foreman, put these two Earthlings to work as well,” the big guard said.

Jumper and Alan fell to the ground before the scientist, who cocked his head at the two guards before gazing down on Jumper and Alan.

“Hol4 doesn’t want to work here anymore,” Jumper said as he and Alan sprang to their feet. “And we won’t, either.”

“Tulros,” the scientist said. “I am the foreman of the southern tri-pyrus tents. Call me Foreman, please. Your friend is under a work contract. Have you ever picked pyrus before?”

“Work contract?” Jumper shot back. “Is that what you call slavery here?” The foreman cocked his head again in response.

“We’re not under any contract,” Alan said. “We are free residents of the Earth colony, in the cities region. We were abducted in the Sinlo foothills and brought here against our will. We demand to go free.”

“Go free?” the foreman asked. “Where would you go? You’re too far from the cities region now. As freelancers, you must earn your keep, same as the contractors. Everyone works here. If you’ve come for the games, you must produce for a while first, until the appropriate time comes, and then you can be taken to the arena in the west. Until then, you must work. There can be no non-producers in the plains.”

“We don’t plan on being in the plains,” Jumper said. “We mean to leave and head south. Immediately.”

“Put them to work,” the big guard said from behind. He had come inside the tent and was now standing immediately behind Jumper.

“It would be best if you cooperated,” the foreman said. “There’s good picking today in the center row.”

Jumper had a moment of indecision. He looked at Alan.

Alan shook his head. “I don’t like the looks of this, Jumper. I mean, picking some fruit is nothing I’m opposed to—but if we start, it might become easy for them to keep us here as forced laborers.”

“We choose not to cooperate,” Jumper said to the foreman. “So, what are you going to do about it? I think you should know my father is a university professor, and we are all very close to Brandon, the human prophet on Banor.”

The physical prodding from the guards stopped and they all stared at one another for several moments.

“Take them to the Belle-ub” the foreman finally said. He hurried away before the guards could argue.

“What the extat is that?” Jumper said, turning around.

The big guard then said, “Please, follow us. The Belle-ub will decide on this matter. Only he can help you.”

The two guards went over and held the door of the greenhouse open for Jumper and Alan. There was a noticeable change in their demeanor. They now acted almost polite. It seemed that dropping a name or two was all it took to garner a little respect with these northerners. Jumper would have to remember that.

“Who—or what—is a Belle-ub?” Alan asked Jumper as they walked behind the guards through the pup-tents into the nearby woods. Jumper only shrugged.

They followed a trail in the woods for a short while and then came out the other side to a large clearing with a grand view behind it. They were on the edge of a great, flat, circular valley. The horizons were all far off. Small towns and structures dotted the valley in the distance.

Immediately in front of them stood dozens of wooden cabins and thatched huts. It looked like pictures of Sheen villages Jumper had seen. On the north side of the village was a small airfield. Ten or twelve large rotorcraft—what his dad called “freaky helicopters”—were setting on the airfield along with twice as many hover trucks. Some of the trucks were moving back and forth loading the rotorcraft. That must be a shipping center for the locally-grown produce.

Then Jumper saw them: Sheen in red cloaks, walking throughout the village. They were instantly recognizable, although the shine from their face and hands didn’t seem as bright to Jumper as the other Sheen he had met—or maybe it was because of the morning sunlight brightening everything around them.

The guards led Jumper and Alan into the interior of the village and stopped at a public hygiene shack, where they waited outside for Jumper and Alan to refresh themselves. It was a welcome relief to Jumper, as they had been wearing the float suits for a complete day. The two of them stood under the cleansing blue light first undressed and then with the float suits back on.

When they came out, Jumper was feeling much better. The two guards took them to a fire pit area and had them sit on a wooden bench to “wait for the Belle-ub.” They left them there alone.

“They’re gone,” Alan said. “Should we make a break for it?”

“Where to?” Jumper asked.

“Back to that fuel station and see if the all-terrain cruiser is still there?”

Jumper liked the idea, but something inside him told him to wait.

“They might still be watching, and if they catch us running, especially stealing a vehicle, it might be all the justification they need to slam anklets on us and stick us way up north in the middle of the agritents. I’m with you, but I’m uncertain. It kind of feels like a trap.”

“You might be right,” Alan conceded, “but we need to figure out
something
. I’ll bet they don’t need much of an excuse to force us into those greenhouses.” Alan looked around rapidly as he spoke. “What we need is some kind of diversion.”

“Now that’s good thinking, Alan. Wish we had the signal flares that were in our cruiser.”

“I wish we had the clothes we left in our cruiser, too. Where do you suppose we are?”

Jumper pointed westward to the expanse in front of them. “That can only be the great valley of the Central Region. From here we can barely see some of the towns out there, along with a few bigger structures—one of those might be the arena the foreman mentioned. We’ve seen this valley on the horizon before, but from our local viewpoint back in the Midlands.” He pointed off to the south. “We’re at the extreme edge of the Northern Plains here. This is where the Central Region Militia would stop trying to enforce their jurisdiction, but we haven’t come that far from the Midlands yet, either. If ever the C3 Amulites were to fight a battle among themselves, this side of this valley, right out here, figures to be the ideal location, with the different militia groups all coming to a head along this small ridge where the woods stop.”

Alan nodded as he continued to look about.

Three of the red-cloaked Sheen appeared from among the huts. They took slow, deliberate steps towards the bench where Jumper and Alan were sitting. The one in the middle was shorter than the others. He was, in fact, the shortest Sheen Jumper had ever seen; not much taller than Jumper. His cloak was a brighter shade of red, too—but the glow from his skin was noticeably dimmer than that of his two companions. You could see his half-human looking facial features well, which had just enough of a skin-glow to conceal its leathery nature.

The two on either side of him stopped before the fire pit, but the short Sheen continued approaching until he stood before Jumper and Alan. His face showed no emotion. Jumper and Alan stood up in response.

“Tulros,” the Sheen said. “I am the leader of the Belle Sheen order, the one they refer to as the Belle-ub. You may call me Belle-ub when speaking to me, although this is a great privilege, as my followers address me as
Prophet
. I understand you come from the cities, and have lost your way?”

“Tulros,” Jumper responded, bowing slightly.

“We haven’t lost our way,” Alan blurted without bowing. “We were picked up and brought here from the Sinlo foothills after our cruiser was stolen, and accused of aiding an escaped worker, when we knew nothing about the work contracts here.”

Belle-ub glared at Alan with obvious disdain. He then turned back to Jumper and spoke.

“You climbed the mountains?”

“Yes, we did,” Jumper replied.

“How high?”

“Higher than we wanted.”

“You came into contact with the natives who have removed themselves to the heights?”

“Yes, in fact.”

“They forced you to play?”

Jumper cocked his head. “Yes.”

“You told them you are a local champion?”

Jumper rolled his eyes. “Yes, unfortunately.”

Alan attempted to speak. “How did you know that—”

“How did you escape?” Belle-ub continued, acting as if Alan were not there.

Jumper looked down at his float suit, then over to Alan’s, then back at Belle-ub.

“You flew down the mountainside?” Belle-ub asked before he could respond.

Jumper cocked his head all the sideways this time. Maybe prophets were real after all.

“You were fortunate to have the means of escape with you,” Belle-ub said. “The mountain dwellers are fools, but we hear they are formidable opponents. How would you assess their skill?”

Jumper straightened up. “If what you mean is their polwar skill, it’s as good as any of the natives I’ve played, and any of my people, too, I suppose. They take it very seriously up there.”

“Yes, they do.” Belle-ub looked up in the direction of the mountains. “We are seeking a way to draw them down here for the tournament. You know how to find them, it seems. Would you be averse to visiting them again—with a proper armed escort this time—as our messenger?”

“What tournament?” Alan interjected.

Belle-ub continued ignoring Alan and did not respond.

“I’m afraid we didn’t leave on good terms,” Jumper said.

Belle-ub frowned.

Jumper opened his mouth to offer a further explanation, but his attention was drawn by objects in the sky beyond him. Belle-ub noticed and turned around.

Suddenly the air above the central valley was filled with spaceships. They were of at least two different types. Some of them were still high up and appeared as nothing more than specks. Others were coming lower, as if intending to land.

One of the ships higher in the sky exploded, sending flashes and fireballs in all directions—perhaps an unfortunate accident.

But then another one exploded. And another.

The smaller ships began landing on the valley floor. Faster, sleeker ships that could only be fighters of some type—but not Torian—swooped in from the north and south and zipped all about. Some fired upon each other. Soon lasers could be seen firing back and forth across the sky, with occasional further explosions, all while smaller ships continued to land.

“That battle you spoke of appears to be happening now,” Alan said to Jumper, “only in the sky instead of on the ground.”

“I’m pretty sure these are all alien ships,” Jumper yelled above the noise of a nearby fighter sweeping by.

Belle-ub broke into a slow jog without turning around or saying another word. His two companions ran off with him. Sheen and armed Amulites scrambled through the village in the direction of the valley. Jumper and Alan found themselves alone again.

“Well, that diversion
you
spoke of has appeared as well,” Jumper said. “Let’s go!”

Alan needed no further urging and they took off running together back towards the woods.

*

“It’s still there! I was right!”

“Maybe you’re a prophet, too,” Jumper said.

“If I am, I say we take it right now.”

Jumper held his friend back with one arm. “Wait. Look.”

A group of armed Amulites came out of the woods through the trees a little north of them. They were hurrying towards the agritents and spreading out in groups of two, possibly intending to guard the doors of the greenhouses and keep the workers inside. Jumper wanted to run in, find Hol4, and rescue him—but knew it wasn’t feasible at the moment.

“Okay, now!” Jumper said. He and Alan broke towards the fueling station. Two Amulites then emerged from between the large tanks, but they too ran in the direction of the agritents. Jumper pulled Alan off to the side. They stopped and crouched to the ground. When the two fuel station natives were farther away, Jumper poked Alan and got up again. They ran hunched-over to the big cruiser and climbed inside. Jumper took the driver’s seat. Sounds of explosions, lasers, and spaceships flying were still in the air behind them.

“Did they fill it?” Alan asked.

“Yes! Full tank.” Jumper pushed the start button. The engines fired and it gently lifted from the ground. He grabbed the half-rectangle steering wheel and pulled back with both hands, engaging the forward thrust. It started moving. Jumper eased the vehicle out of the station and then turned the beast back around behind it.