Arion started awake as the carrier entered atmosphere. He sat quietly, seeking the calm that had allowed him to sleep. The carrier landed and Raach returned to the compartment. He opened the hatch and two more venators came in. "Your escort," said Raach formally.

Arion stood still as they bound his wrists behind his back, but their touch triggered a wellspring of fear that bubbled up from his gut, radiating outward to tingle on the surface of his skin. The sensation subsided, dwindling downward to settle in his stomach.

He was led outside, and he noted with surprise that he was indeed outside, rather than in a hangar. It was full day here, and he wondered briefly how long he had slept, his inner timing thoroughly disoriented.

They took him through a group of buildings to another, set back from the rest. It was a low, squat building, fairly large and spread out. The walls appeared to be formed of molded rock, looking pale, lifeless and heavy. He found little to look at inside: smooth walls without decoration, rounded corners as the ceiling and walls melted together. He disliked it.

They came to the doorway of a small room and stopped outside. It had no door. "Ta," commanded a large venator in the center of the room. They brought him in and as they undid his wrists, he saw a second venator, standing in the corner. "Sa," commanded the first, and the escort left. It stood over Arion, glaring at him. It was colored a solid chestnut brown, and its jacket bore the angular pattern of a mere shasat, giving it no status at all save Rikshastikan membership.

"Hey there," said Arion, tiring of its stare.

"Rank."

"You certainly are."

"Answer kyon."

"Say, you use nicknames too? We have some for you guys. Like inanista, or vampat - " The venator knocked him across the room. He stood up and smiled. "Love you too, Jejuno."

The venator crossed the room swiftly and knocked him down again. His eyes cleared quickly and he rose, hand against the wall. "Don't like that one?" he asked innocently. "How about pyon? That'd fit too. From this close - " And again he was struck down.

"You would do well to answer the question, kyon."

"You mean it could make a difference?" he asked wryly, sitting up.

"It could save your life," it threatened, its slightly rounded cat ears canting backwards.

"Oh that," he said lightly, slowly rising. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "I gave up that idea hours ago."

"What is your rank?" demanded the venat.

"Don't you recognize the insignia?" he asked skeptically. "No wonder your people stuck you way out here."

"Why would a Cedrychad be flying a Peregrine?"

"I can fly anything," he said blithely. It didn't need to know this was the second time in three days that he'd been shot down.

"Why were you flying a Peregrine?" it persisted.

"Wow, you really are dense, aren't you? I was on a scouting mission."

"To accomplish what?"

"To see if you were out here. Guess y'are."

"To which Hammerstar do you belong?"

"The Arlemagen."

"Where is it now?"

"Oh, probably out kicking inanista butts someplace."

The venator took him by the throat and pressed him against the wall. "Where is the Hammerstar?" it asked, its tone remarkably soft for the strength of its grip.

"Not so rough, Jejuno old pal," he said hoarsely. "You'll make my eyes pop out. I hate that." The venator in the corner chuckled. The first tossed Arion away and stalked out of the room.

Arion sat up and leaned against a wall, draping his arm across his knee, resisting the urge to rub his throat. "Your turn," he said gaily to the remaining venat. A standard brindle, its jacket bore no pattern at all, but it was obviously here for something.

It smiled warmly. "Are you always so cheerful in bad situations?"

"No. I tend to lose my temper when venats attack our villages."

It smiled again. "My name is Sharsa. What's your name?" It spoke clearly, with almost no accent at all.

"Arion Dorios."

"How old are you?"

"I guess that depends on the planet, right? Let's see, you've got four hundred and.. how many days to the year here?"

"Standard cycles. How old are you in standard cycles?"

"Twenty-three."

"Is that young or old for a Cedrychad?"

He smiled, frowning his surprise. "About average, I guess," he lied.

It nodded. "Your hair is rather long for a fighter, isn't it?"

Arion laughed now. His hair reached past his ears, but not to his shoulders. "No, not really. It's not chopped off like those things on Lenis, but it's about average. Just plain old average me. Brown hair, brown eyes, five foot nine. Why such stupid questions?"

"Do you have a family?"

"Wife and kids? No."

"Why not?"

"Ah, that's what she wants to know. Why such odd questions?"

"I'm a homologist."

"A homologist? What's that?"

"I study humans."

Arion laughed against the tightening of his stomach. "What for? 101 Ways to Roast a Human?"

It smiled as if used to being laughed at. "It's a fairly new science, but its value is becoming more apparent." It looked at Arion, curious. "I would expect you to be angry, or frightened... Cedrychads are known for their arrogance, but do you realize how much trouble you're in?"

"Well let's see," he said bitterly, dropping the 'arrogant' smile. "I'm on a planet run by venats, my friends don't know where I am, and I'm as good as dead. On top of that, you guys want to know where the Arlemagen is, only I don't know. And somehow, no one seems to believe me. So you tell me. How much trouble am I in?"

"And you can sit here, laughing and chatting?"

He shrugged dismissively. "Beats hysterics."

"I see. And how do they know you went down?"

Arion stared, almost laughing. "They probably figured that out when my wingmate came back without me. Or when I talked to the Ealdred from Lenis."

"Did you? I didn't know that. And how do they find you?"

"They don't, now."

"But if you hadn't been captured."

"Send someone to pick me up. But you guys know all that already. What is this?"

Sharsa smiled. "They may know, but I don't. I'm not with the Rikshastika. How do the ones who come to pick you up find you?"

"Distress radio. Tomlik has it. He has all my stuff."

"Mm. Well, I think that's enough for now. I have to go. We'll talk again later." Sharsa walked out the door, stopped and looked back. "The doorway has an electrofield. The amps are low so it won't kill you, but the volts are high enough too knock you out. Just thought you should know."

"Thanks." It left and he leaned his head back against the wall, suddenly horribly tired. It had wanted to know where his stuff was, he decided wearily. Well, if he'd gotten Tomlik in trouble, it served him right. Shaky and hungry, he had an awful headache...

He looked around the room, but there wasn't anything to see, just bare walls with melted corners. A commode, so he used it. He wondered if Sharsa was lying about the doorway, but it seemed far more likely that it was true. The empty doorway was obnoxiously inviting - too inviting to be safe.

Well, Arion, he thought glumly, let's see you get yourself out of this one. Yeah, just punch a hole in the wall and away I go... He sighed.

Maybe he just needed to be patient. Let them take him out for whatever they had planned and - And he'd be surrounded by big blasted venats that weren't exactly what you'd call stupid. He looked at the doorway again...

Where would he go on a planet held by venats?

Oh Aviel... He sat down again, drew up his knees, and wrapped his arms around them, rocking slightly. Softly, he sang to himself.

He continued, humming, forehead on his arms, eyes closed. It was an old song his father had taught him so long ago, to distract him from panicking within the unbearable, strangling confines of their hiding place...

Abruptly he stood as footsteps approached. Two venators came in, took him firmly by the arms, and led him out the door.

He came to on a stone floor, his head throbbing viciously, his muscles echoing the complaint. Dazed and disoriented, he had no idea where he was or what had happened...

He dragged himself to his knees, his breath catching as he struggled against himself. His jacket and shirt were gone, each of his wrists bound by a cord leading to the opposite wall. The leads were slack, but he couldn't reach either wall.

Directly across from him was a doorway, no door. He looked about, trying to sort out scrambled memory... The room was empty, like the first, but quite a bit larger, and the floor was made of chiseled stone, some of the cracks nearly as wide as his pinky. Cold.

How had he gotten here? They'd had him in the smaller room, the one knocking him around, the other asking such stupid questions... They had left... Then what? He sighed, his mind a total blank. Courtesy of the drug that black venat Raach had mentioned?

They must have been questioning him, though he couldn't have said what part of him they had attacked - everything hurt. He smiled slightly, angrily satisfied that they had learned nothing, or he wouldn't still be here. But the smile faded and he closed his eyes, knowing that it also meant they weren't finished.

He examined the cords on his wrists, trying to work his hand out... Three venators walked in and he stopped. One of them busied itself by the wall, and the slack in the cords began drawing in. Reluctantly, painfully, Arion stood, wondering with a sudden burst of fear if they meant to tear him apart.

The cords halted. His arms were outstretched, but except for the existing ache, they were not strained. This was only a momentary relief, for he knew they meant business and he most definitely did not feel up to it.

One stepped up, facing him. Another stayed by the wall, and the third moved around behind him, bringing a padded bat identical to the one he'd seen so recently. His stomach cramped and he closed his eyes.

"You are familiar with the kosh," said the one before him. The voice was oddly familiar and he opened his eyes to look. "Used properly, the kosh does not break bones, but it is uncomfortable. We do not wish to damage you here, so perhaps you would prefer to save yourself some trouble."

"It's a little late for that," Arion said quietly, placing the voice. It was the same one that had spoken to Tomlik on the videcom, a Kirtash, placing it above the shasat that had questioned him first, but still below a Kirnaach.

"Not really. Where is the Hammerstar?"

"If you haven't found out by now, do you really think you will?"

It smiled, and inwardly Arion shuddered. He had escaped such a smile once before... It was like a cat smiling at a mouse. How did they ever get named after dogs?

"We are only now beginning," it said. "You hurt, and you forget, but we are only beginning. Where is the Hammerstar?"

"Sure are a lot of you that speak Homonic," he said, skirting the inevitable. "How come?"

"Not so many, really. You are just dealing with those of us who do because we wish to speak with you. So. Where is the Hammerstar?"

"There's no way out of this mess, is there?" he asked rhetorically. "You wouldn't believe the truth anyway." His stomach cramped again and he felt flushed, slightly dizzy...

"The truth is precisely what I want," it said, its voice hardening as its ears twitched backward with annoyance. "The extent of the mess, as you put it, is up to you. What is the course of the Hammerstar?"

"I don't know." A grunted cry as the kosh came down, and he staggered forward, the cords preventing him from falling. Already aching, his whole body seemed to feel the blow.

"What is the course?"

"Knew you wouldn't believe me," he said bitterly. "I told those turpas on Lenis the truth too, and th- "

"The course?"

Arion shook his head.

"It is in your best interest to cooperate with me. You mean nothing in the long run. Anything you tell me may have no true effect. But I must try, so you might as well cooperate. What is the course of the Hammerstar?"

"I don't know. I can't - "

"The course."

"It's standard proced- "

"The course."

"...When a pilot goes d-"

"The course."

"They change -"

"The course."

Arion glared bitterly. "Are you as ignorant as that imbecilic shasat that tried before? I can't tell you what I don't know!"

"You can tell me whatever you wish to tell me. What is the course of the Hammerstar?"

"I don't know."

"The course."

Arion said nothing after that, for it seemed to lengthen the interval between blows. Eventually he almost didn't even feel the kosh, but he couldn't find his feet...

Cold... He woke shivering, the cold overriding even the pervasive ache of his body. He curled into a ball, but the cords were still on his wrists and he wondered miserably what else they planned on doing to him. He hadn't thought it would last so long.

He sat up slowly, trying to escape the cold of the stone floor, tucking his elbows between his knees for warmth. Not much longer, he promised himself. Not much longer and it would be over.

A venator entered the room, carefully clipping an injection vial into a small air gun. Arion scrambled to his feet, snared but defensive. The venator seemed indifferent and soon quit. It walked casually to the wall and started the cords drawing in. When it was satisfied, it shut it off and returned.

Arion kicked, doing no damage but driving it back. Annoyed, it glared at him and advanced again. Knowing it was hopeless, Arion kicked out again, convinced that he was only making things worse, yet simply incapable of doing nothing.

The venator jumped back, untouched. It returned to the wall, tightening the cords. Arion watched, hating it, fearing it, knowing it would win. His hands felt swollen, his wrists burning as the cords dug in. He held his breath, suddenly determined not to cry out as his shoulders began to scream.

The cords stopped, but he felt he would tear apart if he moved at all. And the venator came, insultingly indifferent to the entire process. Arion watched as the gun pressed against his arm, gritting his teeth against his fear as the yellow fluid burned its way in, Raach's threat echoing heavily in his mind.

The cords were released and he was alone again. He rubbed his shoulders, breathing heavily, swaying as his balance left him, then half fell, half sat. Had they done this before? Would he forget it again? How much would he forget?

We have a new drug. You won't like it much, but afterward - I will eat your soul. He felt nauseous, as if he'd been spinning too much, and he put his hands against the floor, fighting an increasing sense of vertigo. His stomach began to cramp, tightening until he cried out... unrelenting so that he sobbed... persisting...

Chapter 01 | Chapter 02 | Chapter 03 | Chapter 04 | Chapter 05
| Chapter 06 | Chapter 07 | Chapter 08 | Chapter 09 | Chapter 10
| Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15
| Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20
| Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25
| Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30
| Chapter 31