Three
The tank stood idling in a clearing – it was huge, armour-plated and bristling with weaponry. In spite of its having wide caterpillar treads, it had still sunk somewhat in the forest floor and churned up an ugly scar of mud through the trees.
Suddenly fearful that if she got into the vehicle she’d be lost, Aalu tore her arm free of the soldier’s grip and fled…
He yelled in fury, and put half a dozen bullets into the forest floor just in front of her, sending up a spray of old leaves. Aalu gave a whine and covered her head with her arms, but kept running… until a second slig – this one a smaller worker class soldier – stepped into her path, and she almost ran down the barrel of his gun.
“I’d stop where yer are, if I were yer, miss,” he said, calmly, as she leaped back, startled and panicked, span to find the Big Bro. approaching, a scowl on his face…
“My patience is runnin’ out wi’ yer…” he snarled, softly. “If the boss didn’t need yer an’ yer weren’t so pretty I’d skin yer wi’ my bare hands…”
She backed away. “Stay away from me,” she whispered, bumping into a rock and realising with a sense of horror that she couldn’t get away from him… “Stay away from me…!”
“Leave her alone!” a familiar voice howled, and a small greenish blur cannoned into the big soldier – both went rolling.
Skan was by far the lighter on his feet; in barely seconds he was up and in a defensive position in front of Aalu.
The Big Brother lurched back to his feet, awkwardly, and smiled savagely at seeing who his diminutive assailant was. “My my,” he said, calmly, sauntering over. “Lookie who it is. Ain’t we getting’ ter be a brave li’l sliggy, hey, Skan…?”
“You know him, Skan…?” Aalu whimpered, clutching at her friend’s upper arm.
“Only too well,” Skan growled. “Name’s Lenk. He’s nothin’ but a bully – an’ he’s turnin’ into a fat one, at that.”
“Insults as well, Skan?” Lenk sneered. “Getting’ stupid in yer old age, huh?” He folded his arms, lazily. “Yer seem ter have forgotten,” he said, striding forward, looking threatening. “Exactly why the Four was so damn scared of me.”
“We weren’t scared of you,” Skan asserted, in a hiss. “Yer were just to damned big to take on in single combat.”
“That what yer all tell yerself, hey…?”
Skan scowled and clenched his fists. “Yer came that close ter us killin’ yer, Lenk,” he whispered, hatefully, holding his thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart, by way of explanation.
Lenk pulled an exaggeratedly worried-looking face. “I’m meant ter be scared now, yeah?”
Aalu could see all the muscles standing out in Skan’s throat – he was trying desperately not to let himself be baited, gritting his teeth so hard he was making his jaw ache… She put a restraining hand on his shoulder; “Don’t do anything stupid, please, Skan, please don’t be stupid…” she whispered, frantically, sensing he was losing his tenacious grip on his temper.
“You should listen to her,” Lenk jerked a thumb at Aalu. “She’s smarter than yer ever goin’ ter be,” and he smiled, lasciviously. “An’ she’s a pretty li’l thing, ain’t she? I’ll be glad when you’re outta the way…”
That was the last straw that broke the elum’s back. With a howl of “YOU KEEP YER FILTHY HANDS OFF HER!” Skan went for the huge slig’s throat.
The battle was short and ferocious and ultimately one-sided. When maddened by rage, Skan never fought well; Lenk toyed with him for a few minutes, like a cat with a mouse, until he got bored and calmly beat him senseless.
Aalu collapsed at his side. “Skan?” she grabbed his shoulders, gave him a shake, panicky. “Skan, speak to me!”
He managed a groan, which meant at least he was alive… That was small comfort for Aalu; it didn’t take specialised knowledge to see he was suffering badly – his left hand was mangled and his wiry frame mottled with ugly bruises and vicious cuts. He was struggling to cough the gathering fluid out of his lungs without actually coughing, as it jarred his ribs, three of which were fractured, and cursed weakly under his breath.
Lenk folded his arms and smirked. “I’d’ve killed yer if it weren’t fer the fact that ole’ lady Skillya wants ter see yer,” he said, with a kind of savage glee.
Skan just groaned, miserably…
A small, lean young slig with a medicase pushed past the Big Bro, giving him a brief glare and muttering “bugger off, yer stupid great bloody idiot…” and dropped down beside the pair.
“Mind out o’ the way, miss,” he said, delicately, assessing Skan’s injuries quickly by eye. Frowning, he flipped the lid of the case open and rummaged through the contents for a hypodermic.
“Will he be all right, sir?” she asked, urgently, catching the medic’s arm.
He gave her a blinding smile. “Oh, yeah, jus’ fine. Some o’ the lads back home get mauled worse than this an’ are back on duty in a coupla weeks. An’ don’ call me ‘sir’, makes me uncomfortable. I’m Xar,” he replied, locating the painkiller he was after and flicking the air out of the syringe. Then exclaimed in annoyance as his patient shifted just as he was about to administer the drug.
Skan spat out a mouthful of blood and weakly propped himself up on one elbow, holding his upper arm with one hand in a vain effort to stop the deep, painful gash on it from bleeding. “You were jealous of us, weren’t yer?” he managed, staring at Lenk with a cool smile, finally seeing the cause of the larger slig’s acrid hatred. “Jealous of our freedom, jealous of our speed and mobility, jealous o’ the fact we had friends, jealous that we had everything and yer had nothing…”
“Aw, shaddap,” Lenk muttered, uncomfortably, and booted him smartly in the ribs, prompting a whimper.
The little medic scowled and pushed him away. “I told yer to bugger off!” he barked, and with a glare Lenk lumbered away – the medical staff were the only ones, apart from management, who held any sway over the more unruly element. After all, they were the very cleverest of sligs – they had to be – and everyone had a respect – albeit a grudging one in a lot of cases – for them. Xar made a rude noise at the departing back, then turned back to Skan.
“Yer don’ half pick ‘em to scrap wi’, don’t yer?” he said, dryly, helping Skan sit then giving him the shot. “Skan, right?”
Skan nodded, weakly. “Tha’s right.”
“Thought I recognised yer,” the medic went on, cleaning up the cuts. “Yer picture’s been up in ev’ry mess hall fer weeks, now.”
“That sounds reassurin’,” Skan said, dryly, and winced as the antiseptic got into his cuts and made them sting. “Sounds like I’m on the top o’ the old lady’s shit-list, then…”
Xar laughed. “Sorry, mate; she ain’t jus’ pissed off at yer, she’s fumin’ – yer can all but see the smoke comin’ outter her ears…”
“Yer know, I’m glad yer a medic. If you were a shrink, I think I’d top myself…” Skan said, watching detachedly as the medic bandaged up the worst cuts, except the deep gash in his arm – that’d need stitches… “So, what yer here for? Jus’ come along fer the ride? Ter see all the pretty scenery?”
The other grinned. “Somethin’ like that,” he replied. “Nah, I’m here fer the lady. The bosses weren’t sure whether she’d be in a fit state ter travel. Never expected ter end up havin’ ter patch yer up.”
By now, Lenk had got fed up of waiting, and mooched back. “Stop gassin’ an’ hurry up,” he rumbled. “I want ter get at least halfway by nightfall…”
“Yeah yeah,” Xar replied, annoyedly, waving a hand in a shut-up-and-go-away gesture. “I ain’t goin’ ter patch ‘im up any quicker wi’ yer hoverin’ at my shoulder, so bugger off an’ gimme some room.”
“No – this time I ain’t bein’ pushed around by yer,” Lenk grumbled. “We need ter go, else we’re goin’ ter be even longer out ‘ere.”
“Stunnin’ logic, my brainless friend,” the medic replied, dryly, hunting for a needle. “Well, I c’n always finish this off in the tank, even though it’ll be a bit crowded…” the medic found his needle, and threaded it with the ease of long practise.
Lenk smiled, coldly. “No, yer can’t finish in the tank,” he replied, and gave Skan a nasty look. “’Cause he’s walkin’.”
“Walkin’?! In this heat…?!” Skan exclaimed, and then winced and gritted his teeth as the medic began to stitch the gash in his arm.
Lenk chuckled – unlike Hak’s infectiously deep rumble that never failed to set everyone in earshot laughing, his was a cold, nasal sound that sent a shiver down Skan’s spine. “Mebbe,” he said, his voice soft with implied menace, leaning closer. “Yer shouldn’t have picked a fight wi’ me. Then I’d be less pissed off at yer.”
“If yer don’t be quiet,” Xar barked, furiously, and waved the needle. “I’m goin’ ter stick this in yer eye! Now shuttup!”
Lenk grumbled, but shut up.
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