Easy Prey Read online

  Nayna stopped and, looked directly at Bryder. "Cogent question. I encourage you to bring it up when we regroup with the expedition leader." He was just close enough to hear her mutter, "Maybe he'll give you an answer."

  She cleared her throat. "But it's a good question. If blasters are less than effective against them…"

  "But will kill us no problem," Bryder pointed out.

  Nayna nodded, pleased rather than offended to be interrupted. "So, cadets, what would be the weapons we would ideally take? I presume you all read the briefing like Bryder did."

  Bryder's fellow cadets fell silent.

  "Well? And don't you answer, Bryder. I suspect you know. Let's hear from someone else."

  After a pause, a woman said, "Edged weapons?"

  "The Woden are not immune to edged weapons but they are larger and stronger than normal humans and have edged weapons on their own. How good are you at sword-fighting?"

  The woman, Elan, shook her head. "Not really."

  "For most of you, hand to hand is not the best option," Nayna said. "I wouldn't like for that to be my only option either. Any other ideas?"

  "There's a chemical weapon that shoots projectiles," another cadet said. He was a tall man, though he looked like a gangly teenager. "Would that work against them?"

  Nayna nodded. "Good call. They probably would. However, we don't have any. Anyone else?"

  Bryder raised his hand. She rolled her eyes and asked again. "Anyone?"

  Bryder started jumping up and down. "Ooh, ooh, pick me."

  "Bryder?"

  "They're very sensitive to sound. If you have some sort of device that makes a loud noise, you could have some defensive ability."

  "Excellent," Nayna smiled at Bryder, apparently surprised. "You're the first cadet to think of that. Well, the second." With that, Nayna handed out little objects that fit neatly in the hand, meant to be squeezed with tiny speakers that were wedged between the fingers.

  "Squeezing how you activate these?"

  "Yes—wait, don't test them."

  "How will I know it works?"

  Nayna regarded him blandly. "They were tested before we came. And they are very loud. Enough to do damage to us if we use them for too long."

  "Great weapon," the gangly guy said, disgusted.

  Nayna wisely ignored him. "We'll be going through here. Be on your guard. Historically, they have not been friendly."

  Bryder might have had a passing thought about not brutalizing their lovely planet, but he kept it to himself. If she believed her own propaganda, she didn't even know Rand had decimated Woden's gem of a planet.

  They stepped through the force field to find themselves facing a circle of a half dozen Woden, wearing gray so they were not readily discerned through the force field. Bet they knew about what happened to their home planet.

  Nayna took it in a glance. "Step back!" she said, but it was too late. One of the Woden sliced through a cadet and the rest of the cadets went scurrying. Bryder squeezed his noise toy and was rewarded with a high pitched squeal that sent four of the Woden to their knees. He tugged on Nayna's arm. "Let's step back, regroup where it's safe."

  She shoved him to the side and blocked the Woden's sword that would have cut right through him. "Some of them have ear plugs," she said. "I'm not leaving the cadets behind. The Woden are cannibals."

  "You can think in safety."

  "Think on your feet, cadet. Safe haven's not always an option."

  She slipped behind the Woden she was fighting and clubbed him hard enough on his head that he fell to one knee, dropping his sword. Nayna ran back to the slain cadet while Bryder scooped up the sword and slammed the haft into a point just above the Woden's ear before he could regain his feet. "I think diplomacy is off the table," he said. "What in Rana's name are you doing?"

  "We can't let the badges fall in the hands of any of the inhabitants. And I wanted to see if she could survive."

  "No luck, eh?"

  "No. She…cannot be saved. Where are the others?"

  The cadets had overcome their momentary panic, in part because two, the gangly one, Ralf, and the brawny other cadet, Shel, managed to disarm and dispatch a Woden while Elan used her noisemaker. Well, they had disarmed two and dispatched one, or at least, he looked dead. What Ralf lacked in skills he made up for in enthusiasm. They were still fighting the other Woden who was struggling from his knees against the waves of sound. Despite the noise—Bryder had also kept up the pressure on the noisemaker—the last three Woden were trying to attack. Nayna snatched the sword out of Bryder's hand and stood behind one of the struggling Woden, sword against his throat. "Throw down your weapons, Woden, or I kill him."

  The Woden fighting Ralf and Shel hesitated and Elan slammed her blaster into his head in the same spot Bryder had. That Woden also crumbled. The Woden Nayna threatened spat. "Better it is to die than to be treated like dogs."

  "Shall we test that theory?" she asked, lifting the knife until black blood oozed along its edge. There wasn't the slightest sign of trepidation in her stance or face. Bryder didn't doubt for a second she'd do it. Damn.

  "Don't be a damned fool, Kriter," one of the other Woden told him then threw down his weapon. When they all were down, Bryder released his squawker and Elan followed suit. Thank Rana, the sound was killing him.

  "So, teach, what now?"

  "You, Ralf, check the Woden that's down. If he's alive, render him first aid."

  "Seriously?"

  "Did I stutter? You, Bryder, you seemed to understand some aspects of Woden anatomy that were news to me. Can you help him?"

  Bryder rolled his eyes. "If I must, but I'm taking my sword."

  Nayna nodded, her sword still at Kriter's throat but no longer pressing into his skin. "Elan, you and Shel check the Woden who have been knocked out. Make sure they're alive."

  "They'll be fine," Bryder said, ripping off his shirt to tie around the wounded Woden's shoulder after pocketing his badge. "It's a pressure point specific to Woden and it only knocks them out. This one will likely survive, too. Lost a lot of blood, but he seems hearty enough to make more. Ralf or Shel missed the heart so he just needs a few stitches and some bed rest, maybe an antibiotic, and he'll be fine."

  Nayna turned her attention to Kriter. "Do you have someone in your encampment that can provide medical care for your fellow over there?"

  "Why would you care? Shouldn't you focus on your own comrade?"

  Nayna pressed her lips together. "She is dead and beyond care. Please, just answer the question."

  "Yes, we can care for our own. And we have medicine."

  The two downed Woden were coming round and Bryder thought it prudent to move back behind Nayna and gestured to Elan and Shel to do the same. Shel scooped up the fallen cadet's body unprompted, his face grim. When they were all behind Nayna, she lowered her sword and stepped back.

  "That's it?" Ralf gasped. "You're going to just let them go and heal after they killed one of us?"

  "They were defending themselves as they saw it," Nayna said. "And they are no danger now. We will not kill without reason."

  Kriter snorted which was what Bryder would have done himself if he hadn't been certain she was sincere.

  "Kriter, I said you were defending yourselves, but, from our view, you attacked unprovoked. Why?"

  "Unprovoked? Unprovoked?" He coughed and a bit of blood leaked from the line she'd left on his throat. "You and your cohorts come here time and time again, pretending to be friends and then attacking and killing us when we don't fall prey, again, to your lies. Is that not provocation enough?"

  Nayna regarded him steadily. "That seems a valid point. How often have we come where the event has not ended in violence?"

  Kriter regarded suspiciously. "Perhaps the first two or three times, before we realized that we were lied to."

  "And the times that ended in violence, how often did you have fatal casualties?"

  "Every time. When we were brought here in my father's generatio
n—brought against our wills from our home planet—there were nearly three hundred of us. Now we are but seventy and most that remain are women and children, or the old and infirm. Only we six remain of the Woden warriors."

  "Your grievance appears just. And what were you promised that we failed to honor?"

  "We asked to be set free, if not on our planet, on any planet, that we could make our own way."

  "Are you criminals?"

  Kriter laughed. "When I arrived, I was not yet weaned off my mother's milk. What crime do you suppose I had committed?"

  Nayna nodded. "Very well. I will have to correct this situation. I do not ask you to trust me nor can I promise results as I have limited power. But I will try. Whether I'm successful or I fail, I will come back to tell you how I fared unless I do not survive the attempt." She glanced at the cadets behind her, all standing close to the force field. "Let's go."

  Bryder waited to step out with Nayna which might have been a mistake as they stepped out into a crowd of more than thirty angry "test subjects," most of them sporting badges and Randian blasters.

  "You know, teach, this field exercise might just be a tad too realistic."

  Nayna moved through the cadets to take point again. "I am Nayna. I am the one in authority. These are just students." She dropped the Woden sword she still carried. Perhaps she should have wiped the black blood off of it before she came out. "What have you done with the others?"

  A Simaxian, four armed and colored a dull red, intoned, "Some are dead. Most are unharmed."

  Nayna nodded. "And what do you want from me?"

  "We need a pilot so we can escape. Not only us but all in our groups and the Woden as well, if you haven't slaughtered them," The Simaxian spat. "Randian dogs."

  "I refuse to be less than a cat," said Bryder.

  "Bryder, do shut up." She shook her head at the Simaxian. "I have only a provisional license which the ship will not accept."

  "You lie! You came here in a ship. Someone must be a pilot."

  "Chances are, you killed him already," Nayna said. "I can't help you."

  The Simaxian snarled and pointed the blaster right at her temple. "Then none of you are of any use to us."

  A part of Bryder shrugged. He never wanted to work for Rand anyway and he was a pilot. He could shuttle them somewhere hard to find and then make tracks himself. Except for one thing.

  She knew he was a pilot, too, and she hadn't given him away.

  He should just let her die but…

  "Wait!"

  "What? Are you a pilot?"

  "A pilot isn't your problem," Bryder said. "Say you had one and he could take you somewhere. If you kill her, Rand will find you wherever you hide and burn you and yours to ash."

  "So, you too think we should cower like curs, to be kicked at your discretion as you bleed off our strength bit by bit and remind us of our humiliation?"

  "No, you should convince this lovely lady that it would be much smarter for Rand to do away with this idiotic experiment and, instead, run this exercise with Rand operatives instead of angry prisoners that want to be anywhere else but here."

  He turned to Nayna. "I mean, you heard Kriter in there. This may be the stupidest exercise ever. No diplomat is so good that he is going to win over people little better than prisoners who never get what they're promised and are killed when they balk. And you are the one who told us they were citizens."

  "You have a valid point. But using our own operatives, diplomacy would likely be unnaturally easy."

  "Versus unnaturally impossible. And these folks suffer, for what? So a few cadets can pretend they know how to deal with new alien races? They'll be deluded, that's what." Bryder waved his hands to encompass them all. "If you use seasoned field agents in the training, rotating them so they don't get into a rut, they can bring their own experiences to bear for cadets to learn from. It can be as hard or as easy as we want to make it. And, that way, no one has to die and we don't have to leave ourselves open for ambush."

  Nayna looked thoughtful but not convinced. The test subjects around them looked conflicted. Was this another trick? Well, Bryder could hardly blame them.

  Bryder persisted. "This whole business makes no sense. If they fail today, they'll just try again. They have nothing to do but wait for us to return. If you make a compelling story, you can convince your higher ups to let them go. I mean, what's on this planet? Aren't the natives still here? Surely, they could just blend in with the locals, right?"

  Nayna, who hadn't flinched once during the whole ordeal, asked, "Would that satisfy you? That you be let free to make your way on the planet with no assistance?"

  "And how would we know you wouldn't just gun us down?" the Simaxian asked.

  "I don't suppose you do, but, if Rand knew that our team here was compromised, they'd burn out this entire facility without hesitation and everyone in it so you really have very little to lose."

  "How would you do it?"

  "I would leave and contact my management from the shuttle, explain that the situation is untenable as is and we cannot train our cadets under the current conditions. Then I would explain that you and your people are serving no purpose and just using resources, as I recommend that I allow you to go. If I can convince them, I will have you set free at another spaceport on this planet where you might find others of your kind or other people that might be able to help you get on your feet or even passage off planet."

  "And you think I'd just trust you to go into your shuttle and do as you say?"

  Nayna looked him straightforwardly in the eyes. "Yes, because I'm leaving the cadets as hostages."

  I'm dead, Bryder thought.

  The Simaxian laughed. It was a bitter sound. "As if you Randian scum give a shit about a handful of cadets."

  "One of these cadets is the only pilot. I'm as trapped here as you if I fail to convince Rand and they destroy us all."

  "Which one?"

  "I won't tell you. I suggest you not kill anyone else while I'm gone just in case." As if they had agreed, as if there was no more to be said, she walked through and past them. Damn if she wasn't something. And they parted for her, too.

  When she'd left, an awkward silence descended on those that remained, four cadets—with a dead one still in Shel's arms—and an angry mob of oppressed people of varying species.

  Shel lay down the dead girl and knelt beside her. Made sense. Might as well get comfortable. Bryder collapsed into a seated position, legs crossed, and ventured, "So, anyone play cards?"

  "Have you no shame?" Shel asked.

  "What good will shame do me? She's dead and won't care and these fellows here have dozens dead for every one of ours. You want to be outraged? Take your turn."

  "You act like they're just like us," Ralf said, sniffing and scrubbing at the remnants of black blood on his skin.

  "They are just like us. They think and feel and care about their loved ones—who people from this class have been systematically killing off—and worry about their planets' fates while they're here—as they should. You think that because they haven't devoted their lives to Rand they're less worthy?"

  "They're not human."

  "Well, neither am I, technically, though I'm closer than most, close enough to breed if I cared to. And that cadet who became a corpse, she's not human either. Her blood is the wrong color. And you and I know there a dozens of races in the corps of the Randian military. Humanity doesn't corner the market on worth or virtue."

  The aggressive people holding them hostage look bewildered with Bryder's words. "I don't understand you," the Simaxian said at last. "I understand these others—rage against those that attack their comrades makes sense—but you, you act as if we aren't enemies."

  "You're not my enemy," Bryder said easily. "I don't choose enemies based on home world or skin color or ideology. I don't like people who hurt other people when they don't have to. You haven't. I'm totally cool with that."

  That seemed to leave both his fellow cadets and th
eir captors at a loss.

  Elon dropped down beside Bryder. "You really don't care that she's dead?"

  "It's not that I don't care. It's that I can't change it, and I don't see why it's more pertinent than the deaths these folks have been dealing with. What impresses me is that Nayna seemed to understand that, too."

  Ralf snorted. "Sure she does. She's probably long gone and left us to die."

  "Well, we'll certainly know soon enough. In the meantime, anyone have cards, dice, or a music box?"

  One of the captors, a Lyran, much like a human except for an exceptional pallor, fished in a pouch and brought out a pack of circular cards. "We could play Dragon Poker," he said.

  "Perfect," Bryder said. "Fairies wild?"

  The Simaxian sat cross-legged by Bryder. "I suppose though it seems like those fairies always seem to avoid me."

  "It's because you're too grim," Bryder said. "Try laughing like you're happy."

  The Simaxian gave him a bland look but one of his own group laughed. "I'll play a hand," she said. "Fairies like me, just fine."

  The original Simaxian shook his head. "I wonder why I married you."

  "A lover's rivalry. This will be good. Except we don't have stakes." He fished around in his own pockets. "I don't so much as a millicredit."

  "Why," asked the second Simaxian, "are you not wearing a shirt?"

  "We sliced up one of the Woden in there, but he'll live alright. I used my shirt to staunch the wound. Pity we didn't bring them out with us. They've got killer poker faces or so I've heard."

  The second Simaxian laughed, a hearty laugh that sounded genuinely amused. "That they do. If you hadn't already lost your shirt to one, they would have taken it anyway."

  Bryder laughed, too, and others, both cadets and captors, laughed as well. It was contagious.

  All at once, the force fields came down, the whole area was unusually silent without the buzz they all had heard but hadn't consciously acknowledged. "Guess Nayna understood more than you gave her credit for," Bryder said. "Now that's a lesson for us all. Perhaps, as agents, we can make friends instead of enemies if we listen and act in accordance with our words."